Frederick and Mia stood frozen, their gazes locked onto Ashok, eyes wide with sheer disbelief.
It was as if sothing unnatural—sothing beyond their comprehension—had just manifested before them.
Their expressions flickered between shock and silent calculation, as if trying to grasp the impossibility of what they had just witnessed.
Around them, the atmosphere remained eerily still.
The soft glow of mana-infused lanterns cast dim light over the hall, illuminating the rows of students, all still imrsed in their manuals—eyes shut, expressions tranquil, minds consud by the process of learning.
Yet Frederick and Mia paid them no mind.
Their attention was focused entirely on Ashok.
The prolonged silence stretched thin, pressing against him with a suffocating weight.
He could feel their stares boring into him, scrutinizing him like an anomaly—sothing that shouldn't exist, yet did.
It was beginning to grate on his nerves.
"What?" Ashok asked, feeling annoyance under their constant stares.
Mia barely responded, her lips parted slightly, a quiet murmur slipping from her mouth. "Ten seconds…"
The number itself felt unreal, even as she spoke it.
Frederick's sharp gaze remained locked onto Ashok, the disbelief in his voice unmistakable. "You… Did you just learn two arts—five seconds each?"
It wasn't just shock that colored his tone—it was deep, unnerving bewildernt, the kind that ca from witnessing sothing utterly incomprehensible.
Even Ashok himself hesitated as the realization settled in.
Ten seconds.
The chanics of learning from an Art Manual were rigid, absolute.
Once opened, the manual directly projected the knowledge of the entire technique into the learner's brain, initiating a state of subconscious imrsion.
The process could not be interrupted—not by force, not by will.
During that ti, the mind shut out all external distractions, entering hyper-focus, absorbing the technique with total clarity.
But learning an Art wasn't simply morization—it required full comprehension, complete internalization.
A practitioner had to grasp every aspect, every intricacy, so they could execute the technique flawlessly, even without guidance in the future.
Only after completing the comprehension process would the learner exit their subconscious state.
The reason for their shock lay in the very nature of learning an Art Manual.
Even within a state of pure ntal focus, comprehension should still take ti—even the sharpest minds required monts of processing to fully grasp sothing entirely new.
That was why all the other students remained with their eyes shut, their minds still subrged in their subconscious state, absorbing their chosen arts.
But Ashok was different.
Not only had he learned the first art in five seconds, but he had imdiately started another, without pause, without hesitation.
Frederick had nearly intervened, about to warn him—because even after learning one Art, regardless of Tier or complexity, the mind should be given ti to rest.
The process was demanding, a ntal strain requiring recovery before diving into another.
Yet Ashok had bypassed all of that, speedrunning through both arts and still standing completely fine.
Frederick simply could not believe the sheer level of comprehension power the boy possessed.
There were certain things in the world that couldn't be improved through rank or stats- that remained constant, unaffected by external enhancents.
Comprehension power was one of them.
It was innate, an ability each person possessed from birth, varying from individual to individual, unaffected by training or magical refinent.
And yet—Ashok's was beyond anything Frederick had ever witnessed.
anwhile, Ashok himself was equally baffled by the situation.
'Is my learning speed really that high?'
Even he wasn't sure if he could call himself a true genius.
He had always known he was talented, had always grasped concepts faster than others, but that had been the extent of it.
He lacked photographic mory, lacked extre speed-reading abilities—he had never thought of himself as soone beyond reason.
If soone with photographic mory could absorb an entire book in seconds, effortlessly retaining each word as if etched into their mind, then Ashok's process had always been different.
It took him minutes—sotis hours to finish reading the sa book.
But once he did, he understood—not just the words, but the intent behind them which is not sothing photographic mory capable of.
He could grasp exactly what the writer wanted to convey as if the essence of the text had unraveled itself before him.
Yet, he had never seen this as a talent worth ntioning.
He never cared much for books to begin with.
Most of his ti had been spent playing gas, indulging in digital worlds rather than the pages of literature.
If soone had asked Ashok in his previous life what he was good at, he wouldn't have said comprehension.
He would've said, simply—drinking beer.
The thought lingered, unsettling in its simplicity.
'Was I also a genius in my previous life?
But is high comprehension power really sothing to be proud of? Then why did I still sucked at Math and Science.'
He didn't know what to make of himself.
As his mind wandered, a subtle movent caught his attention—another pair of eyes fluttered open among the students.
It was Althea.
A mont later, other students began stirring, slowly returning from their subconscious imrsion, their expressions shifting as they processed what they had learned.
Ashok sighed internally.
'See? Not that big of a deal. Only a matter of a few seconds.'
He shrugged off his previous thoughts, dismissing them like ripples in water. There was no point in overthinking.
After all, comparing his natural talent to these students would be like comparing a single drop of water to the vastness of the sea—and Ashok was not arrogant enough to make that mistake.
As more students began opening their eyes, Mia's focus drifted away from Ashok.
She turned her attention to the others, particularly Althea, who had erged from her subconscious imrsion within thirty seconds, followed shortly by the rest.
anwhile, Frederick's thoughts remained fixed on Ashok.
'Just what kind of monstrous comprehension power does this kid possess?'
Comprehension wasn't just raw intelligence—it reflected one of the greater qualities of one's mind that affected many other qualities, and if Ashok's ability was this extre, then it was highly unlikely that the other qualities of his mind would be lacking.
His curiosity stirred.
"What is your na?" Frederick asked, his voice asured.
"Adlet," Ashok replied, his tone steady.
Frederick muttered the na under his breath, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"So this is the boy the Dean took in—even though he arrived late," he mused internally.
'Not to ntion, how long has it been since I've seen this many talents gathered in one place?'
His gaze shifted, scanning the other students, lingering particularly on Althea.
Even without extensive analysis, his instinct as a seasoned Mage told him one undeniable truth.
In terms of pure talent—He lost to this child.
The realization was clear, unshakable.
His thoughts lingered on Althea.
'It seems the next head of the Magic Tower will at least be soone competent—far better than the current one.'
A wry smile crept onto his lips.
'Though I wonder… will she have the ability to take that position from that shrewd bastard?'
Even the re mory of that shrewd bastard ignited Frederick's fury, the bitterness resurfacing despite the years that had passed.
'Just how unfair can this world be?
A slight difference in rank… a single rank.'
That was all it took for him to take everything away from .
Frederick clenched his fists, suppressing the old resentnt that still lurked beneath his composed deanor.
He had long since accepted his position, yet the sting of injustice never truly faded.
anwhile, Mia scanned the hall, ensuring all students had finished processing their Art Manuals. With a calm, authoritative voice, she addressed them.
"Since everyone is done, we will now return to class."
Frederick exhaled sharply, shaking off his wandering thoughts.
To think—even after all these years—I'm still stuck over these things.
With a flick of his wrist, he snapped his fingers.
Instantly, a large magic circle blood across the stone floor, its intricate patterns glowing with pulsing energy.
The light expanded, engulfing every student, including Mia, in its shimring embrace.
The next second, they were gone, vanishing in a flash of magic—leaving Frederick alone in the vast hall.
Silence settled around him.
He stretched his fingers absentmindedly before a smirk crept onto his lips.
'Maybe I should start teaching again.
But first—'
He rubbed his hands together, anticipation lighting up his expression.
'I should make an appointnt to et that dwarf.'
After all, nothing delighted him more than the chance to rub salt over new wounds.
Aether Class
The students found themselves back standing scattered around the spacious classroom, the lingering effect of their abrupt teleportation still evident in their posture.
Mia's voice rang out from the front, commanding their attention.
"Everyone, be seated."
Slowly, the students settled into their places.
"You have now received everything the Academy offers for free. Make sure not to misuse these privileges—like certain students."** Though her tone remained composed, the implied warning was unmistakable.
She scanned the room, her gaze firm.
"Let be clear. The use of your Weapons, Mana, or Aura against another student is strictly prohibited. If you wish to fight, you may challenge a fellow student to a practice duel—but only under the supervision of a teacher.
You cannot break this rule under any circumstance."
"Lastly, I advise every one of you to start preparing for the Ranking Tournant, which will take place three months from now.
The First Rank of the Aether Class will receive a special privilege—one that stands above all other students."
Her words sent a ripple of intrigue through the room, though no one dared speak.
"You will receive your class schedules tomorrow, and lessons will comnce accordingly."
"That's all."
With that, Mia turned briskly, heading toward the exit.
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