"It's useless, Flat is just waiting for you to scatter."
Reines hadn't even finished her sentence when Flat started waving his arms.
"Mhm, mhm, just like that, spin around in circles over there!"
If you were observant enough, you would notice that before Flat started waving his arms, he struck the sa pose as the invaders. This wasn't just simple mimicry, but a type of sympathetic magecraft—more plainly put, a curse.
"Interference begins (Playball)."
With a brief chant, the lightning released by the invaders changed direction the mont it left their spell formations.
The next second, the area was filled with the screams of the magi being burned by their lightning.
Strictly speaking, the sympathetic magic Flat was using wasn't the orthodox Western magecraft taught at the Clock Tower but was instead derived from Asian sorcery.
However, to him, it made no difference, for he was a genius—a true genius.
Flat Escardos was born into the Escardos family, an ancient lineage of magi from the diterranean region.
This family is quite interesting—if we're talking about history alone, few families in Europe can compare. However, the heads of the Escardos family through the generations could only be described as diocre—whether it was their natural talent or their mastery of magecraft, there was nothing remarkable about them. Many magi mocked them as a family unable to turn their history into a genuine mystery.
—Until Flat was born.
This child seed to be born to compensate for the family's years of diocrity, possessing an exceptional number of magic circuits as well as overwhelming talent to control them.
He was sent to the Clock Tower with great expectations as a prodigious child. However, this genius proved to be a handful even for the Clock Tower.
He was initially assigned to the Departnt of Spiritual Evocation under the Deputy Director of the Summoning Science Division, Rocco Belfeban. However, within a few months, he was transferred to another departnt. Though his extraordinary talent was welcod by each departnt he entered, as he continued to break the record for how quickly he overwheld his instructors, he was eventually shunned.
Why did this happen? The answer is simple. Every professor wants a student who is smart and diligent, and who can quickly grasp their lessons. However, few professors understand the sorrow of encountering a student who is too talented.
Learning quickly, understanding instantly, and grasping the essentials at a glance—these are good things.
Applying knowledge across different areas and thinking outside the box—this is even better.
Comprehending everything taught, then refining and surpassing the teacher—this is a perfect student, a dream co true.
However, if these three steps are completed in an extrely short ti—before the teacher even finishes the lesson—and the student starts pointing out the teacher's mistakes, how would the teacher feel? Would they think their life had been in vain?
This could still be excused—after all, the world occasionally produces a universal genius, a superhuman like Da Vinci.
What made it worse was that Flat embodied the ideal attitude of a magus, yet he had no awareness of what it ant to be a magus.
Modern magi are driven not just by their supernatural abilities, but by a fierce obsession passed down through generations—an unyielding pursuit of the mysteries of history that itself possesses a terrifying power. No matter how far science surpasses magecraft, as long as this mindset persists, magecraft will never completely vanish.
However, Flat lacked this kind of obsession entirely. He wandered around aimlessly, ddling in everything, pestering others about spells he hadn't seen before, quickly analyzing them, and then pointing out their flaws with a naive smile.
Try to discipline him. Sorry, but there aren't many in the Clock Tower who could even win against him. His opponents' spells would be thoroughly dismantled by the ti they made a move, and they'd be the ones left humiliated.
Don't discipline him? That would hurt your pride.
And yet, despite goofing off all the ti, this guy maintained perfect scores across all subjects, constantly embarrassing his instructors—even the lords weren't spared. His nickna, The Idiot Among Geniuses, ca from his legendary history of humiliating the entire Clock Tower.
As one of his most frequent victims put it, Flat's presence severely disrupted the teaching order of whichever departnt he was in. After cycling through eleven of the twelve departnts—save for the Departnt of Policies—the Departnts eventually dumped him into the El-lloi Classroom for problem children in the Modern Magecraft Theory Departnt, where he has stayed for years.
Just how many forms of magecraft does a young man who has been in all twelve departnts possess? Even he couldn't say for sure. For instance, when it cos to Galliasta's lightning magecraft, Flat could counter it with his eyes closed.
"The breakthrough has been made," Flat said with his usual innocent, smiling expression, standing amid the groaning bodies around him.
"Gray kiss!!"
Svin howled at the sky, radiating wild charm—if you could ignore what he was saying.
Although the two constantly bicker and seem like sworn enemies, their movents are fluid and coordinated, as if they were born twins, leaving their enemies battered and beaten.
As they called out, a third voice echoed.
"Umm... Please don't call that... El-lloi Classroom's Gray, entering the battle!"
A small figure in a cloak rushed into the enemy formation, leaving a trail of wails in her wake.
Don't be mistaken—Gray wasn't using a scythe-like a reaper, nor was she wielding a battering ram like a siege weapon. She carried a shield, and from the strange face on it, it was clear that this was another form of Add.
The shield itself wasn't particularly frightening, nor did it have any offensive capabilities, but the sheer brute force of its wielder made it an unstoppable force.
She charged through the lightning, smashing through the invaders' formation, all in under two minutes since Flat had appeared.
"See that? This is the power of the El-lloi Classroom!"
"Enough!"
An enraged, almost twisted voice erupted alongside a deafening roar of thunder.
This was no ordinary lightning; it was on an entirely different level from the previous sparks. If that was the true standard for lightning, then the earlier attacks were re static.
The thunderous lightning blazed with a blinding light, tearing through the dark clouds and ripping through the atmosphere.
Its target was none other than the seemingly unassuming but most lethal mber—Gray!
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