Chapter 379 – Is It Me or Them?

Chapter 379 – Is It Me or Them?

Lifting his satchel into his lap, Kai ruffled inside for a book to take notes on. The barest trickle of mana flowed to sharpen his senses. Muffled whispers and stolen glances all confirmed Rob’s words.

Are my Space skills really that good?

If only he’d gotten one lesson, he would have gained a frame of reference. Why had Jolene not warned him? Whether it was deception or simple miscommunication, he would need to have a word with his advisor. But first, he had to minimize the damage.

Thank Yatei, I undersold my skills.

With a notebook and his dad’s pen in his fingers, Kai set down his satchel and cracked open a clean page. “I bet plenty of students here can do better than me.” He gestured to the young woman two rows below. “Like her.”

Rob softly snorted, though his burnished yellow eyes never stopped examining him. “Jill is a fourth year. No other first and second year can cast a displacement spell that well. And probably just a few in the third.”

Uhm… They can’t be that bad, can they? Maybe they just joined the course this year for fun.

Kai shrugged, genuinely unconcerned by his feat. “Short-range blinks are the one thing I’m good at.” Downplaying himself too much would look suspicious—better to redirect. “And the most skilled students are probably in the advanced class.”

“The advanced— How do you even know—” Rob clamped down his rising voice, mouth shut. He leaned on the desk, feigning attention to the class as he whispered. “How did you learn? That’s not something you learn in a day.”

“I didn’t. Same as with every skill. It was lots and lots of practice. A mage showed me the blink trick when I was a kid. And I always wanted to replicate it. Kind of like a hobby. I slowly got better.”

True, he hadn’t made much progress until he got trapped in the Hidden Sanctuary, but the best lies always build on a foundation of truth. The more he said, the greater the chance he’d betray himself.

“Mister Markol, Miss Sonelle, Miss Varsh. Come here.” At the bottom of Onyx Hall, Professor Asterelle moved to the row of seats circling the lecturer’s platform. “The dean is only here to offer advice. Show us what you worked on during break.”

Jill briskly moved to join two other fourth-years in the class. They bowed to the dean with perfect form. Their backs straightened, and their chests puffed up upon receiving the barest look of acknowledgement.

Astarelle arranged a series of tools along the desks of the first row: wooden polyhedra, beads and enchanted contraptions of metal and crystals.

Kai ignored his roommate’s flitting glances and focused on their presentation. The dean’s motives remained a mystery, but he hadn’t seemed to care about him hiding his skills either way. If nothing else, the man offered an excellent excuse to keep quiet and take notes.

Guess it could have gone worse. The main issue will be other students. At least while I’m enrolled, I should be safe from outsiders taking an interest…

Below, the technical talk of spatial spells and concepts made no more sense than arcane chanting. His pen raced over the page. Finally, they started casting. The technical details might sound gibberish to him, but he could observe the effects.

A bead of blown glass rolled over a spiraling rail. Iridescent hues shimmered on metal, the air rippled as if heated by fire, pulled by spatial forces. Crossing the first half, the bead smoothly tripled its motion. It zipped along the rails at a speed that should have normally sent it flying before abruptly slowing on the last track.

Asterelle leaned in and adjusted her lenses. “An exemplary application of stretching and folding, Miss Varsh. Your casting speed and precision have noticeably improved.”

Despite hardly moving, Jill was clearly beaming.

“An almost seamless transition.” The dean nodded. The bead blinked into his hand. He held it up to show a tiny crack on the fluted glass, making the girl’s expression dim. “I’d focus on the spatial layering. Even opposite aspects have a point of conjunction…”

From Jill’s bobbing head and gleaming gaze, the obscure technical jargon made sense to her. Exchanging a few quiet words, she prepared for another cast. Her hands rose, brows knitted in focus. Two motes of silvery light fizzled to life above her palms.

Huh, what… it almost looks like…

Kai gaped upon realizing what he was seeing—a portal. Well, a micro-sized one. The passage might fit a cotton thread, but it was still a portal. Dean Astares gave it a thoughtful nod. When the twinkling motes collapsed seconds later, Jill’s smile didn’t falter. Being able to hold a stable connection for any length of time was impressive. She took the feedback with a graceful bow and stepped back.

Where would I even start?

The next student was already preparing his spell. At the go-ahead, he performed a linear spatial distortion. His index traced a glittering line, slicing through a steel bar. The cut alternated jagged shavings and smooth metal. Despite his imperfect control, his posture lifted with the tips he got.

Kai scribbled more notes, narrowing Mana Observer on each spell.

Professor Asterelle produced the tools for their demonstration. After his classmates in forest green, a dozen third-years in burnished yellow followed. The murmurs stirred by his blinking trick faded at the prospect of receiving personal guidance.

Unlike his own test, most students cast a single spell before returning to their seats. When executed properly, Space could be entirely invisible to mundane senses.

Dean Astares shared a word of advice with each of them. His terse expression and tone never wavered, though his answers became more and more brief as he moved through the class.

Urgh, I get it.

Kai felt a strange kinship. Iridescent motes swam in his vision from prolonged focus. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. Had his expectations been too high? Were people showing their worst cantrips for better advice? His head drowned with new spell ideas, and the fourth years were impressive. Some of the third years, too.

Still… kinda disappointing.

With a few months of dedicated efforts, he could probably copy even the best demonstrations, and that’s because they’d applied Space Magic in directions he’d never thought to try. Among the second-years, a couple seemed not to have even advanced their skill to Yellow.

How are they that bad? Unless… are they also hiding their abilities?

Sensing a presence, Kai looked up to see his roommate head for his turn. “Good Luck. If you want, later I’ll give you tips on blin—sorry, spatial displacement.”

“I don’t need it.” Rob flashed a grin. “The luck, I mean. The tips, I’ll take.”

Kai matched his smile. “The first session is free. Then I’m sure we can find some arrangement. Lots of chores to do around the house.”

“Hey, that’s not—”

“Look!” His eyes slightly widened, and he lifted his chin to gesture down. “It’s almost your turn. You don’t want to make Dean Astares wait.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Whipping his head to the queue below, Rob turned back to throw him a dirty look. “Funny.”

“I know. Go make the first-years proud.” Kai stretched his legs, set to watch the last demonstration.

All four students in burgundy—including him—showed spells that matched the second years.

The good ones probably get moved to the advanced class.

His roommate went last, casting an odd spatial bubble-shield. Whatever it did, he was one of the few to earn a nod from the dean.

As Rob sauntered back to his seat, Professor Astarelle raised her voice. “I hope you’ve all gained useful insight to ponder. For now, please thank Dean Astares for taking the time to help your learning.”