Althea blinked once, unsure why Frederick had repeated the sa question he'd asked Isolde.
'Wasn't that supposed to be it?'
By all her calculations, her earlier answer should have been sufficient — clean, logical, and perfectly neutral. She'd expected him to move on to the next person.
Yet here he was, giving her another chance… or perhaps laying another trap.
In her mind, she ran through the possible outcos like a strategist on a chessboard.
If she gave the sa "None" like Isolde, there were two outcos: either she'd be accepted but leave a disappointed impression, or she'd be electrocuted into the infirmary for "plagiarizing answers."
Neither was worth the gamble.
And if there was one thing Althea detested more than failure, it was copying soone else.
'No, I'll have to give him sothing different — sothing thar reflects my own strength.' thought Althea
With a small, confident smile, she began,
"Teacher, I am not completely unaware about raw Mana Control. I have studied a lot about Mana and I have already achieved a basic level of control on my own. So my reason for joining this class is not to learn sothing entirely new, but to further refine what I already understand."
Her tone was soft, almost innocent — the kind of honesty that could pass for humility if one didn't listen too closely.
And yet, as soon as those words left her mouth, Ashok felt his left eye twitch violently.
'There it is', he thought, the worst possible answer.
To anyone else, it might've sounded like the composed, confident response of a genius — soone stating a fact, not bragging.
But to a teacher like Frederick? It was practically an invitation.
After all, this was the sa man who had warned them not to give foolish answers, who had specifically said that mana control couldn't be mastered easily, and now here ca a bright-eyed student declaring that she had already achieved it.
Isn't it the worst possible answer even for soone confident.
However, Ashok knew better than to expect a normal reaction out of Frederick.
For any other teacher, Althea's words would've sounded arrogant enough to spark a lecture—or worse, a lightning bolt to the face—but Frederick was anything but ordinary.
The old man thrived on unpredictability; reason and temper rarely walked the sa path with him.
One of his eyebrows rose slightly, that familiar glint returning to his eyes. Then, with a casual tone that only made the situation more dangerous, he said,
"There's no need for any more explanations. How about a simple demonstration of what you already know?"
Althea blinked, surprised. "Teacher, what kind of demonstration?"
Frederick leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lazily on the armrest.
"Anything you deem fit," he said, the corners of his mouth lifting just a little. "But rember—your demonstration must prove your words true."
A few seconds of silence followed.
'???'
Even Isolde's usually calm expression twitched with confusion. 'What kind of instruction was that supposed to be?'
The teacher could have easily specified what he wanted—an elental display, a spell pattern, a mana compression test—but instead, he left everything hanging in the air, giving Althea complete freedom… and all the risk that ca with it.
Because everyone in the room understood what that ant.
If Frederick didn't like her demonstration—if she failed to et whatever unseen expectation he had set—then the outco was obvious.
Isolde's gaze shifted to Althea, her curiosity sharpened by the silent tension in the air. 'What kind of display will this girl give now?'
'Truly, a main protagonist type mont' Ashok already knew what cliché was going to happen next and the biggest difficulty he can't interfere in this one.
Althea remained still, her eyes half-closed in concentration, as if weighing every possible approach inside her head.
It was not hard to tell she wasn't hesitating out of fear, but choosing the most efficient way to prove her claim.
The requirent was simple enough: demonstrate basic mana control.
Yet that simplicity was a trap. If she made sothing too extravagant, it would look like showing off. If too plain, Frederick might dismiss it as unimpressive.
After a short breath, Althea lifted both her hands until her palms hovered before her chest.
Soft ripples of blue light unfolded at the center of each palm — two identical, delicate magic circles that glead like reflections. Between her hands, a thread of mana connected the two circles, and droplets began to condense in mid-air.
The moisture gathered swiftly, drawn into a tiny sphere of water that grew, drop by drop, until it reached the size of a tennis ball.
The orb floated perfectly suspended, shimring faintly as it rotated in place.
Ashok could hear the faint sound of its spin — like a light whirl of rain in the hollow of a shell — as Althea exhaled slowly, her focus unbroken.
Then, as she released her control over the magic circles, they faded from her palms.
But the water didn't disperse. It remained steady, spinning faster and faster, as if responding directly to her will.
The shape began to shift. First, the smooth orb stretched, flattening into a disc, then folding again into a revolving square.
Tiny droplets split from its corners as it transford into a triangle — and finally, a dicone, two cones eting tip to tip, spinning in a precise balance that reflected her delicate command over the flow of mana.
Isolde's eyes sharpened, her focus narrowing as she studied the stability of the structure — not one ripple out of place. Even she had to admit, the girl's control was impeccable.
Frederick didn't blink once.
The old man's expression was unreadable — sowhere between amusent and intrigue — but his fingers stopped tapping.
But Althea didn't stop there.
Slowly, she extended one hand forward, her fingers trembling slightly while the other continued to guide the floating water. The sphere pulsed gently with each asured breath she took, as if echoing her heartbeat.
Beads of sweat traced down her temple and disappeared beneath her collar, yet her eyes never wavered from the shifting orb.
'She's already made her point. What's she trying to prove now?' thought Ashok, watching the faint blue glow reflecting off the magic in her determined eyes. The air around her felt denser now, rippling faintly with the flow of mana that she kept tightly under her control.
Unlike Isolde or even Frederick, Ashok wasn't interested in this kind of magical display.
He'd seen far grander things—he knew what mastery of Mana Control and even Ether Manipulation could lead to. This? This was just a fancy juggling trick with extra light effects.
Still, as he watched her brow furrow and her hand tremble slightly from the strain, another, far more entertaining thought crossed his mind.
'What would happen if I just… sneezed? Right now? Loudly. Maybe follow it up with a polite "excuse ."'
A smirk unnoticed by everyone ca on Ashok's face as he delved deeper in that thought.
He could almost picture it: the majestic orb losing shape, splashing across the floor, Althea's expression frozen sowhere between horror and outrage.
The urge was dangerously tempting.
Ashok bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, removing that evil grin off his face.
He crossed his arms, leaning side slightly against the wall, utterly unimpressed. The others were holding their breath, watching Althea shape her magic like it was a divine revelation, but to Ashok, it was just another overconfident prodigy showing off for attention.
'Calm down' he told himself. He knew if he sses around now, that old crook will throw him straight out of the class and that kind of massive disrespect was intolerable.
So he did what he could do best — cursed silently, looked disinterested, and waited. His ti to act, or rather amuse himself, would co soon enough.
As Althea's arm straightened, the dicone of water suspended in the air began to unravel, releasing a thin stream that slithered through the air like a living ribbon.
The thread of water moved with eerie precision, circling gracefully around her extended arm—first her elbow, then her forearm—leaving behind faint droplets that glimred like morning dew on glass.
The entire class watched in silence, the faint whirr of mana in the air the only sound that broke through.
The stream moved closer and closer to Althea's palm, and with every slow rotation, the dicone above her other hand grew smaller, its mass being fed into the flowing stream.
Ashok's jaw tightened as his eye twitched.
'This bitch… so that's how she decided to score points.'
He didn't even try to hide the scowl that crept onto his face. That thin stream of water — smooth, precise, moving like a serpent responding to its master — wasn't just for demonstration.
It was a deliberate imitation of Frederick's thunder-serpent spell, a direct nod to his own elent and his pride.
'Clever move,' Ashok thought bitterly. 'Flatter the old man by copying his trick, and you'll have him eating out of your hand in no ti.'
The tiny stream reached Althea's outstretched hand, curling once around her fingers before coiling into a perfect circle, shimring like liquid glass under the light of the mana stones.
Every movent was fluid, every rotation deliberate — there was no wild flourish, no reckless attempt to impress. Only control, refinent, and that subtle, dangerous touch of arrogance that ca so naturally to prodigies.
Frederick's eyes glead faintly, his fingers pausing their lazy tapping on the chair's armrest. Isolde watched with silent focus, recognizing just how fine a display of mana discipline this was.
Ashok leaned back on his cushion, 'It would not be surprising if she bows at the end too'
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