Ch 5 Fireball

He exhaled slowly, a long, controlled breath that frosted slightly in the warm air. He was finding it harder than usual to adjust his internal frequency, possibly because he still had the [Overcharged] status effect.

Aggressively pulling the roaring ocean of mana inward, he wrapped it in layer after layer of mental steel.

More… he commanded his body. His heartbeat slowed to a sluggish crawl. A little more.

For a second, he thought it would be funny if the school found an archmage fainted in front of their building because he failed to pass the alarm system. That would be embarrassing, no humiliating enough for him to probably never leave the 11^th floor again.

Focus.

His pale skin paled even more. The natural warmth from his body vanished, replaced by the ambient temperature of the stone beneath his feet.

Physical pain pulsed through his body as he slowly, agonizingly compressed his mana until it was tied so tight, so impossibly small, that it became the size of a speck of dust.

If a healer were to test his pulse right now, they would be absolutely horrified to find that a walking corpse was standing in the courtyard.

The compressed mana in his core felt impossibly heavy, his body protesting the unnatural state of near-death, but his mind was sharp from the pain.

Relying on momentum, Asterion carefully directed his stiff legs toward the grand stairs.

The moment Asterion passed through the entrance, he felt the dense mana of the scanning barrier pass over his body. It felt like walking through a wall of lukewarm gelatin… without making it jiggle.

The stone dragon’s scales glowed with a faint, red light.

He took a step forward.

Zap.

A tiny spark of static electricity flared against the skin of his wrist, but the giant doors remained open, and no alarms went off.

Success.

He could imagine what would’ve happened had his concentration slipped for even a fraction of a second: the stone dragon would have sprung to life, aggressively spewing fire, and campus security would have swarmed in.

Having raided enough paranoid lords’ castles and plundered the hoards of actual, living dragons over the years, he recognized the setup immediately.

He was lucky to have picked up this ridiculously high-level concealment technique. It was ironic, really; it hadn’t been a master thief or a shadow-rogue who had taught him how to flatline his life force.

It had been a reclusive high elf—a notoriously arrogant race that usually preferred to announce their presence with blinding light.

Asterion’s smile faded as a brief memory of his old comrade flashed through his mind.

He shoved the memory back into the dark corner of his mind where it belonged.

He looked around the pristine hall to distract himself. The floors were polished marble, and floating crystal chandeliers casted a welcoming light.

Now, he just had to find a way to get to the basement and grab his relics.

Mana was abundant inside the academy as well, as it was in any of the floors of the Abyss.

Asterion strolled down the long, stretched-out corridor. Beyond the windows of the classrooms lining both sides of the hallway, various practical exercises were in full swing.

Flashes of rudimentary lightning, the clamorous, overlapping voices of the professors shouting, and the faint smell of burnt… flesh?

He only noticed the smell because feeling the mana streams in the air to pinpoint the location of his relic made all his senses sensitive.

His gaze was drawn to a specific classroom near the end of the hall.

It wasn’t just the smell. The heat bleeding through the open doorway was thick, but no smoke was coming out.

Asterion nonchalantly walked inside.

A scorched, metal-plated target dummy was positioned at the front of the room.

Inside, amidst a taut silence, twenty students sat rigidly at their desks. He must’ve entered through the front door because a single female student was standing on the elevated dais, focusing every ounce of her nervous energy onto her outstretched fingertips.

The girl let out a trembling breath.

Looking at the mana cube trying to sustain its shape at her fingertips.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Asterion recognized the spell. She was trying to cast a low-tier [Fireball].

Who used [Fireballs] these days?

There were too many fire resistant or fire immune monsters to make use of it.

And it had the risk of a forest fire.

Of course, Asterion would never make such elementary mistakes, but the average mage was not Asterion.

He scratched his chin. For some reason, the future seemed to have regressed in terms of studying and wielding magic.

First, [Breathing] to gather mana.

Second, [Fixing] the coordinates for the spell.

Third, [Forming] an invisible mana cube around that coordinate.

Fourth, [Condensing] the inside of the cube with mana.

She was stepping through the fundamental phases methodically. Her stance was solid, her mana pathways were clear.

If I had to nitpick, it’s a bit disappointing because it’s too textbook.

The final stage would be [Chanting].

It was a process of adding the commands to the cube, giving it a coding script.

Obviously each spells requirde different codes, which was why mages had protected the knowledge with their lives.

Her lips parted slightly. But no incantation came out.

…Chantless casting? Asterion’s eyebrows shot up.

Instead of reciting the incantation, she was trying to stabilize the spell formula using only her mind.

Bold move.

It was a nice attempt. The problem was, chantless casting required the mage to calculate the complex formula in their head. And commanding the mana to follow that formula exactly.

Chanting a long incantation lifted those weights off.

It was just too difficult for her current level of control for a mere 2^nd circle to handle.

When she tried to keep the condensed mana inside the cube, the whole thing began to vibrate violently. And instead of projecting forward, the edges of the mana cube began to war and waver.

“…Ah!”

The mana cube lost its shape and scattered in all directions with a bang.

The backlash of heated mana whipped backward, sweeping directly past her hand. She clutched her burning fingertips and let out a short scream.