By now, it was no longer strange to see seniors and juniors mingling during advanced integrated classes.
But Shirone was still alone.
From the mont he enrolled, he stood out—crushing the formidable Black Magicians, becoming the envy of all as Amy’s lover.
Despite his impressive achievents, he remained in Class Seven, the lowest of the advanced classes, leaving even his peers with mixed feelings toward him.
Seriel waved from a distance.
"Oh! There he is! Amy, your boyfriend! Shirone! Over here!"
When the only two people he could call acquaintances approached, Shirone pushed through the crowd to et them.
Amy stood with her arms crossed.
"Hello, Senior."
"Hohoho! This kid. We’re not strangers, and we’re the sa age—just talk casually."
While Seriel played the role of the cheerful diator, Amy remained sulky.
Shirone’s indifferent attitude was partly to bla, but she also felt confused.
’Why do I even care about this guy?’
Logically, not every guy had to like her—and there was no reason they should.
’It’s always been like this.’
From childhood to the Black Magicians incident, whenever she interacted with Shirone, her reactions were always different from what she expected.
"Haha! Still, I can’t do that. You’re still my senior."
Shirone’s calm deanor made Amy’s blood boil again, but she couldn’t exactly voice her frustration.
"When it’s just us, relax. We’re close enough that ’senior’ sounds weird."
Seriel marveled at the power of love.
Amy, who valued pride above all else, was actually yielding to Shirone—sothing that would’ve been unthinkable normally.
Shirone wore an awkward expression.
"No, it’s fine. I’ll go to class now."
He fled as if escaping, and Amy was so angry she felt like crying.
"Fine! If you don’t want to, then don’t!"
As Amy turned away coldly, Seriel hurried after her.
"Did you two fight or sothing?"
"I don’t know! I don’t care anymore! He thinks he’s so great!"
anwhile, Shirone returned to Class Seven with a heavy heart.
’I want to get closer too.’
There probably wasn’t a single person in Alpheas Magic Academy’s advanced classes who wouldn’t want to befriend him.
But acting on his feelings only created unintended barriers between them.
As Shirone sat down, whispers surrounded him from all sides.
"Oh, look at Mr. Popular. Can’t get enough of showing off?"
"Even during class, he’s busy with romance. Can’t even use magic properly—must’ve gotten in on looks alone."
The average age in Class Seven was fifteen, aning most were younger than Shirone.
At that age, even a one-year gap felt significant, and their immature jealousy showed unfiltered.
Worse, mob ntality took over—now even the girls were badmouthing him.
"Total playboy, right? Too busy dating to study, so he can’t even cast a single spell."
This was exactly why Shirone kept his distance from Amy.
If this continued, her reputation would take a hit too.
’Endure it.’
Shirone recalled Temuran’s advice.
If you endure to the end, the end will co. What he needed now was to climb to a higher class as quickly as possible.
Ethela addressed the class.
"Starting today, we’ll reduce theory and focus on practical training. Spend an hour practicing your Fourfold Style specialty, then the remaining ti on pattern variations."
Since integrated classes were originally practical, this marked a return to their original purpose.
While the students gathered in groups to train, Shirone had no place among them.
Even if he expanded his Spirit Zone, his classmates would instinctively avoid him.
’There’s no hostility in my Spirit Zone. If they’re still avoiding ... they’re doing it on purpose.’
It seed to be their unspoken rule.
Shirone settled at the edge of the training ground and finally began his training in earnest.
Honestly, since he possessed the largest Spirit Zone in Class Seven, the solitude suited him.
After an hour of practicing his specialty—defensive form—Shirone moved on to pattern shifting.
’It’s working.’
Though not as smooth as his defensive form, his offensive form was decent, while target form proved more challenging.
’The real problem is the detachnt form.’
Moving the Spirit Zone outside his body wasn’t just difficult—he couldn’t even mimic it.
Of course, nobody in Class Seven could do it, but Shirone, aiming for advancent, couldn’t afford to give up.
’It’s really tough. How do you even achieve detachnt?’
According to Ethela, the detachnt form was the most unique ntal state among the Fourfold Styles.
After all, the idea of separating the mind and body defied common sense.
’Break free. Break free.’
He tried shifting his Spirit Zone to the right, but it only distorted.
’The key is shifting the core...’
Pausing his training, Shirone rested his chin on his hand, analyzing his failures.
’If the Spirit Zone’s form changes, it ans the form of thought changes. In other words, you have to fixate on one thought while letting others flow.’
It felt paradoxical.
If even the basic concept was hard to grasp, it was no wonder only a handful in the higher classes could use the detachnt form.
’Let’s build it step by step.’
First, he completely stabilized his Spirit Zone’s form, then slowly tried shifting its core.
’Uh...’
A faint whoosh echoed in his mind, as if his consciousness was evaporating.
’Is this what dying feels like?’
His awareness grew distant, his senses fading as if he were dreaming.
’No!’
Shirone’s eyes snapped open just as his Spirit Zone vanished like a soap bubble.
"Phew... almost passed out."
Focusing solely on detaching the Spirit Zone had nearly made him lose his own consciousness.
’Maybe I should shift the core first, then change the form? No, the first thod is right. If the form collapses, the Spirit Zone won’t manifest at all.’
Shirone felt like he was beginning to understand the detachnt form.
’It’s not a natural phenonon.’
In fact, it was the opposite—an artificial, technical concept that defied nature’s laws.
From afar, Ethela watched Shirone struggle before finally approaching.
"Shirone, how’s it going?"
"The detachnt form is tough. Shifting the core isn’t easy."
"I figured. It’s practically the opposite of your convergence-type affinity. The Fourfold Styles are natural phenona—except for the detachnt form. That one’s unnatural. How about the other patterns?"
Ethela hadn’t expected him to master the detachnt form anyway.
What interested her was Shirone’s natural insight, not his ability for artificial calculations.
"Hmm, the others... seem fine."
Shirone answered honestly.
He was already proficient enough in pattern shifting to feel satisfied with his progress.
Ethela touched her lips thoughtfully and asked:
Ethela:"Then, would you like to demonstrate in the Image Zone once?"
Shirone:"Huh? Right now?"
Ethela:"Why? Are you not feeling well?"
Shirone:"No, it’s not that, but..."
Ethela blinked, puzzled.
The enthusiastic attitude Shirone had shown on the first day of class—eager to use the Image Zone—was nowhere to be seen today.
’Is sothing wrong? Could it be because of the other students’ hostility? He’s more sensitive than I thought.’
Those who knew their own capabilities were usually unfazed by others’ opinions.
Being too strong-willed could make one stubborn, but that very trait was often necessary to achieve one’s goals.
Of course, Shirone wasn’t bothered by others’ gazes either.
The only thing Ethela didn’t know was that Shirone wasn’t just facing mild hostility—he was being deliberately sabotaged.
Ethela:"If you’re not feeling well, we can do it another ti. I just wanted to see because you’re the only one in Class Seven who can perform Quadrantal Conversion."
Shirone:"No, I’ll do it. Please evaluate ."
Refusing Ethela’s guidance just because of his classmates’ criticism would be foolish.
As Shirone entered the Image Zone, countless voices imdiately assailed him—just as he’d expected.
Classmate 1:"Oh? Is he trying again?"
Classmate 2:"Probably wants to impress his lover. Well, that’s the only thing he’s good at anyway."
While the jealousy of his peers was obvious, the upperclassn paused their training and turned their attention to him.
’How much has he improved?’
It had been a month since Shirone successfully perford the defensive form of Quadrantal Conversion, and they were curious about his progress.
Shirone:"Teacher, I’ll begin now."
Ethela:"Alright. Start with one at a ti."
When Shirone activated the defensive form, a sturdy hexahedron composed of 144 facets tightly compressed around him.
Gasps of admiration ca from the upperclassn.
Upperclassman 1:"Just looking at his defensive form, he’s already at an upper-class level. At this point, you could call it ’armor.’"
The more they praised him, the more Class Seven’s students glared at Shirone as if he were a public enemy.
The only reason they didn’t openly mock him was that his skill was undeniably impressive.
When Shirone switched to the offensive form, countless spikes jutted out nacingly.
’He’s skilled. Truly talented.’
Even the top students in the advanced classes now saw Shirone as a potential rival.
As the Spirit Zone shrank further in the offensive form, it transford into a cross-shaped targeting pattern.
Ethela smiled in satisfaction.
’This student has excellent fundantals. At this rate, he could even get an early promotion to Class Six.’
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