The sound of the expensive carriage of the Drakhan family echoed through the cobblestone streets, a rhythmic clatter that turned heads and hushed conversations. The wheels, crafted from the finest materials, rolled smoothly despite the uneven terrain, a testant to the wealth and power of my lineage.
Inside the carriage, I sat with an air of calm authority. The carriage was richly appointed, with plush seats upholstered in deep crimson velvet and dark wood accents that glead with polish. Golden tassels adorned the curtains, and intricate carvings decorated the interior panels, each depicting scenes of arcane mastery and mythical beasts.
Well, admiring the carriage could follow later.
My mind now focused on the upcoming lecture at the Magic Tower University, I look at the leather bag given by Alfred and take out the docunts from inside. My sight went to the lecture's topic title.
"Royal Senior Professor Draven: The Fundantal Concept of Magic and The Understanding of Mana"
Furthermore, the table of contents is as follows.
-Introduction to Arcane Theory: Magic and Mana
-Magic Circles and Their Branches
-Ley Lines and Magical Conduits
-The Nature and Essence of Mana
-Elentary Magic: Principles and Practices
I read them with total focus and soon got imrsed in them. The prospects, the explanations, and the outlines were fascinating enough for
to realize that the lore and the depth of these docunts were far more intricate and logical than anything I had created in the ga. It was as if I were diving into a whole new world, one that was rich with potential and discovery.
As I studied the magic circles within the docunts, analyzing their complex structures and incantations, a certain phrase appeared in my field of view:
[Comprehension used. Mana -150]
I paused, feeling a slight drain on my energy, but also a strange sense of clarity. The intricate patterns and symbols of the magic circles that had seed so complex before now made perfect sense to . It was as if the knowledge had been instantly absorbed and integrated into my understanding.
"So, the skill is real," I murmured to myself, fascinated by the implications. Comprehension wasn't just a passive skill; it actively consud mana to enhance my understanding of magical concepts. This realization opened up new possibilities. With this ability, I could learn and master magical theories and techniques far more quickly than anyone else.
The carriage ca to a stop, and my attendant opened the door, bringing
back to reality. "My lord, we have arrived," he announced with a respectful bow.
I stepped out, taking a mont to survey the impressive facade of the Magic Tower University. With a deep breath, I collected my thoughts and began my ascent up the grand steps. As I entered the hall, a small figure blocked my way.
"G-Good morning, professor... T-This is what you asked for yesterday..." The assistant's cute but rigid face was frad by wisps of dark hair, her eyes wide with nervousness as she handed
a thick stack of docunts. "For today's lecture, p
"Do I know you?" I asked, caught off guard by her familiarity.
"P-Professor...? I've been working as your assistant for a year?" Her body seed to shrink as she uttered those words, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
"I was rely joking," I smiled, attempting to ease her discomfort. But as I did, I felt a twist in my stomach, as if the rude and cold Draven within
disapproved of any friendly actions toward others.
I glanced at the docunts, realizing they were a detailed script for the lectures, extending several classes forward. "I see..."
Draven was famous for his intelligence, but it was largely a facade. He was a diocre genius, a failed prodigy. The curse that plagued him hindered his ability to fully comprehend advanced mana usage, leading him to rely on his wealth to build his career through backstreet thods. This included asking the assistant professor to work tirelessly to prepare scripts for most of his lectures.
"Yes, professor?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
"It's nothing. You did a great job. Take a rest before the class," I said, my tone gentle. Another twist of discomfort churned in my stomach, but I paid it no heed. This body may resist my actions, but I was in control now. There was no need to follow every whim of Draven's ingrained habits and desires.
As she nodded and turned to leave, I took a mont to review the script she had prepared. It was thorough, and ticulously detailed, and would serve as an excellent guide for the lecture. I made a few adjustnts, infusing the material with my newfound understanding and the insights granted by my skill, Comprehension.
The students began to fill the lecture hall, their faces a mix of anticipation and curiosity. I took my place at the front, arranging the docunts neatly on the podium. The familiar scent of parchnt and ink filled the air, grounding
in this new reality.
"Attention" I began, my voice steady and commanding. "I will now start the lecture,"
___
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!
The sound of Draven's footsteps echoed through the grand lecture hall, each step deliberate and precise, commanding the attention of everyone present. He moved with a grace and authority that seed almost otherworldly, his presence filling the room with an air of quiet power. The students' conversations ceased as all eyes turned towards him, captivated by the spectacle of his approach.
Draven's every motion exuded an effortless elegance, his stride fluid and asured. His back was straight, shoulders squared, and head held high, embodying the very essence of noble dignity. The long, tailored coat he wore flowed behind him like a cape, its intricate silver embroidery catching the light and adding to the aura of regality that surrounded him.
His boots, polished to a mirror-like shine, struck the polished marble floor with rhythmic precision, each step a testant to his unwavering confidence.
His facial expressions were a study of control and refinent, each glance and movent conveying a subtle yet undeniable authority. His piercing erald green eyes scanned the room, assessing the students with a keen intelligence that left no doubt as to his command of the subject.
There were no flaws or gaps in him. It was as if he had been sculpted by the gods themselves, an embodint of perfection and power. His appearance was so harmoniously proportioned, so ticulously crafted, that it seed almost unreal, as if he were a living statue carved from the finest marble.
"That bastard..."
Amberine Poli, sitting at the back of the class, could barely contain her contempt. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Draven make his way to the podium, her lips curling into a sneer. To her, this display of noble elegance was nothing more than a fa??ade, a mask worn by a man who had caused her and many others nothing but grief.
But even to those who harbored resentnt or mistrust, there was no denying the sheer magnetism of his presence. Draven Arcanum von Drakhan was not just a man; he was a spectacle, a force of nature that demanded attention and respect. As he reached the podium and turned to face the class, the room fell into a hushed silence, the students hanging on his every word.
Not just her words, but her actions were as bloody. Amberine Poli bit her lips as hard as she could until they bled, her gaze fixed intently on the man before her—the enemy of her late father. The taste of iron filled her mouth, a bitter reminder of the rage and grief that fueled her every thought.
Draven Arcanum von Drakhan, the man who had brought so much misery to her family. Just like several other scholars who had been 'eaten' by his ambition and treachery, her father was one of them. He had been a brilliant man, renowned for his groundbreaking research in the field of magic. His nurous papers and articles were a testant to his intellect and dedication.
Yet, his greatest work, his magnum opus, had been stolen by the wretched man standing before her.
Her father had died in obscurity, his masterpiece never recognized, his contributions buried under the weight of Draven's deceit. Amberine's heart burned with the injustice of it all, the mory of her father's unfulfilled dreams and his untily death a constant tornt.
"It's fine, father. I will definitely avenge you..." Amberine muttered under her breath, her voice a whisper of resolve. As she watched Draven command the attention of the class, an evil thought crossed her mind. A plan began to form, dark and sinister, fueled by a desire for retribution.
She would bide her ti, play the part of the diligent student, and wait for the perfect mont to strike. Draven might have the upper hand now, but she would ensure that his fall from grace would be as spectacular as his rise. Amberine's eyes narrowed, her mind already working through the details of her revenge. She would not let her father's legacy be tarnished by this man any longer.
She would expose Draven for the fraud he was and reclaim her father's stolen glory.
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