When the results came in, they were... mixed.
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History: 0%
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Geography: 2%
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Politics: 40%
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Military: 100%
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Language: 60%
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Monsters & Beasts: 5%
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Enchanting Theory: 35%
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Rune Magic: 20%
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Magic Theory (in all elements except one): 100%
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Darkness Magic Theory: 0%
- Medical Knowledge : 70%
- Mathematics: 60%
Sam’s perfect military score came as no surprise—he was a war veteran and an avid history buff, especially when it came to tactics and battlefield logistics. His middling scores in politics and language reflected a working understanding but nothing scholarly. His grasp of enchanting and rune magic came from the grimoire he’d been studying, not formal education.
Magic theory was another story. For every element except one, he’d applied basic scientific principles and logic, breezing through those sections with flying colors.
But darkness magic? It made no damn sense. Not to him, anyway.
Next was the magic capacity test—something I had no hope for. I knew I didn’t have any magic.
They handed me a crystal ball and told me to focus on perceiving the energy inside and try to mix my own mana into it.
At first, nothing happened. As expected.
But when I closed my eyes and really focused, tried to imagine the feeling of energy, and then opened them again—I saw it. A faint glimmer of light inside the crystal. Almost as if my mind could touch it.
Figuring I had nothing to lose, I pushed harder. I visualized myself pressing into the ball, willing my energy to flow.
And then it happened.
Silver mist began filling the ball rapidly, spreading through the clear glass like smoke in water. It filled up fast—so fast I barely realized what was happening. Within moments, the entire crystal was shining with a swirling silver fog. I couldn’t push more inside; the thing felt full.
I placed it gently back on its cradle and stared at it, curious.
The crystal was no longer clear. Now, it looked opaque—like a ball made of polished sterling silver, swirling softly with an inner sheen.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one impressed. The Dean leaned in, inspecting the orb like it was his firstborn son, fresh out of the oven.
With the second crystal, I did the same thing—and got the same result. The Dean’s eyes lit up like a kid who just discovered candy grows on trees. I might have misjudged the guy based on his appearance. He wasn’t a pimp-cop after all. That man was a scientist, through and through.
For the third ball, he gave me a new instruction: "Try imagining the energy as light." Easier said than done. I was already feeling a bit drained, like something inside me was thinning out. Still, I focused hard on the idea of light—pure, shining light—and slowly, tiny specks of white started to appear in the crystal.
“HA! I CAN SEE IT!” he shouted, nearly vibrating with excitement. “That’s mana for sure! Stay here—I’m going to get you an energy drink and more balls!” He spun on his heels, half-cackling. “Claire! Cancel my afternoon—I have an emergency!” His laughter echoed down the hall as he disappeared.
Well… shit. I guess I can do magic after all. But it still made no damn sense. What the hell was that silver mist?
I picked up the first ball, still heavy and gleaming like sterling silver. Curious, I tried pulling the energy back out—just to see. At first it resisted, like trying to suck Jell-O through a straw. But I pushed, insisted… and then it all came flooding back into me in a single rush, along with a little of the residual mana that had been in the crystal to begin with.
I felt the mana dissolve under my skin, spreading warmth through my limbs, and then… it was gone. Fully absorbed.
“Nice,” I muttered—right before the crystal crumbled into a pile of ash in my hands.
“...Christ. I really hope these things aren’t expensive.”
When the Dean came back, arms full with a dozen glass bottles and just as many fresh crystal balls, his eyes immediately scanned the table—then locked on my hands.
“Where’s the missing ball?” he asked, voice suddenly sharp. “I’ll have you know these are expensive, and if you’re trying to steal one, the consequences will be severe.”
“Tabarnak...” I muttered under my breath. “Actually… I kind of destroyed it. By accident. Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck, sheepish. “I tried pulling the energy back out and… well… it crumpled.”
Kladius’s mouth dropped open at the foreign curse, then clamped shut again. He pointed at the second crystal. “Do it again. I need to see it for myself.”
“Okay—but only if I don’t have to pay for the ball.”
“Of course! Now show me!”
I nodded and picked up the second crystal. This time, it felt smoother—less alien. I was starting to get a better grip on the energy inside me. I could feel it now, starting from somewhere deep in my chest—my heart maybe—and moving outward through my limbs like warm mist in a pipe.
As I focused, I noticed something new. Looking down at my forearms, I could just barely make out threads of silvery vapor pulsing through thick veins beneath my skin, shifting with every beat of my heart.
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“Damn… that’s cool,” I mumbled, completely entranced.
"Ha! Fascinating!" the Dean exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "I can see the mana dissolving passively into your system, yet I can't detect what it transforms into. How interesting..."
He suddenly tossed me another crystal ball. "Now try something else—imagine pure destructive, malicious, chaotic energy. Push that into the crystal."
That one wasn’t easy. My first attempt accidentally created fire mana—not what he wanted. I tried again. And again. For an hour and a half I sat there, grinding through trial and error while chugging the Dean’s mysterious ‘energy drinks’ .The moment the taste hit my tongue—sickly sweet, like licorice and regret—I was back in downtown Québec. Not literally, of course. I wasn't about to hallucinate a Tim Hortons or a poutine stand in the middle of a wizard academy. But damn if that drink didn’t taste exactly like a J?ger Bomb.
I chuckled to myself, earning a suspicious glance from the Dean.
It had been a wild night. Me and the boys had gotten ourselves kicked out of the base pub for reasons I still maintain were mostly not our fault. Someone may have tried to race an arm-wrestling champion using only their face. Details are hazy.
Anyway, instead of calling it a night like responsible adults, we commandeered an L.A.V.—Light Armoured Vehicle for the uninitiated—and rolled straight into downtown Québec like it was our own personal party tank. Parked it right in front of the bar like war heroes home from the front, which technically wasn’t wrong.To be fair we were fresh out the plane. The bouncer didn’t even ask questions.
I grinned, swishing the energy drink in my mouth. Back then, we drank J?ger Bombs until we either blacked out or someone dared someone else to jump off the second floor onto a snowbank. It usually ended in bruises and laughter.
Now here I was, years later, in another world, drinking the fantasy equivalent of a frat shot before flinging magic around like a wizard version of a drunken demolition crew.
“Yup,” I muttered to myself. “Just like old times.”
Then—finally—I did it.
Tiny specks of mat black absorbing the light formed in the crystal, like flickers from a black hole.
"Amazing..." Kladius whispered, his face a perfect blend of awe and scientific glee. "You possess a form of energy that can crystallize into both mana and rune essence. That’s... unprecedented. And you can absorb energy from monster cores, too?"
He rubbed his temples like his brain was overheating, then looked at me with sudden seriousness.
“Sam. Keep this completely under wraps for now. I need to report this to the higher-ups immediately. For now, you’ll be placed in both mana and rune theory classes, but under strict conditions. You're not to use either in public until further notice. Your practical training will take place privately, under my direct supervision.”
His eyes narrowed. “You are strictly prohibited from consuming mana or runa energy from monster cores, artifacts, or anything else other than standard potions, taken in normal doses. Am I understood?”
I straightened instinctively. “Yes, Dean!” I barked, reflexes kicking in like I was back in basic training.
“As for your classes,” Kladius began, slipping into full academic mode, “you will be receiving catch-up lessons in geography, history and monster & beast knowledge. Once your scores reach the minimum standard, you’ll be integrated into the standard curriculum.”
He walked to a large desk, picked up a thick stack of papers, and started leafing through them.
“You will also be placed in the Elite Class—a curated group composed of the academy’s finest students and instructors. You’ll know them by their purple and gold accessories. I suggest you wear yours with pride, and with awareness: your classmates are the best of their age, and they’ll expect nothing less from you.”
He paused, tapping a finger on the stack.
“I’ll have the necessary books, uniforms, and equipment delivered to your room. Do not lose them. Most of it is expensive, some of it irreplaceable.”
As he turned to face me again, the tone of his voice dropped an octave—just enough to signal something important was coming.
“As for extracurriculars, there are several clubs I would normally recommend to someone with your profile, but I’ve been informed by Father Mathias that you expressed a particular interest in artificery.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“If that’s true, you may want to formally request placement with Miss Makina—though, based on your recent demonstration, I suspect she’ll be requesting you.”
He shuffled a few more documents and almost turned away before pausing again.
“Oh—and before I forget—get yourself a pair of good boots. The hard kind, meant for running and bleeding in.”
I blinked. “Bleeding?”
“You’ll be joining the other Elite Class students on a monster hunt in two weeks. Standard survival exercise. Don’t worry—we usually bring most of them back.”
"Under 10% loss is considered acceptable in my book. How are your numbers?" I asked, tone light, but not unserious.
Kladius looked up from his parchment, unbothered. "Around 8% of normal students and 5% of the Elite, for the worst years we’ve had so far."
I grinned wide, the kind of grin that made officers nervous during debriefings.
“Let’s make this year count then,” I said, winking like I hadn’t just talked about student casualties like sports stats.
Kladius didn’t laugh—but he did smile. Just a little.
“Let’s.”
Lilith POV:
Once Sam left, I had to take a solid minute just to breathe. He was one hell of a looker—and he’d seen me in quite an embarrassing position. Uncle Mathias said he’d be interesting, but there’s interesting… and then there’s that. It felt weird, having some stranger just show up with ideas that were utterly out of this world, only to dump them in my lap with full creative freedom and a generous share of the business. I blushed, a bit flustered, then turned back to the chalkboard. The concept was sound—most of it simple, exploitable, and honestly revolutionary. Almost too simple.
The tech would massively accelerate resource acquisition, lowering material costs, which would then drop the price of the engines and boost production even more. A feedback loop of progress.
But also… I like horses. Sure, carriages suck, especially for long rides since only the nobles can afford decent suspension—but still. Mounts have character. And carriages don’t fly like griffins.
I flipped the chalkboard and started sketching what a piston might actually look like, working out whether it could function using only hot water vapor. I was mid-calculation, totally in the zone, when a hand suddenly gripped my wrist.
I yelped, startled, spinning around—half-expecting Sam to have come back for the gun he’d left on the table.
But the person standing there wasn’t Sam.
Instead, it was him—Adamias Sunbrak, the son of the Duke of Westria from the Melenor Empire. That smug piece of shit stood there with the same condescending smirk he always wore, the one he used whenever he came around to announce some new layer of ridiculous interest added to the loan.
And my father—the fool—had named me as collateral.
He was too naive to believe that anyone would use underhanded trickery to trap him like this. Too idealistic to see the Empire’s nobles for what they really were. Now, unless something changed fast, I’d be chained to this bastard’s whims—nothing more than a glorified slave to a shit-eating brat.
And the worst part? I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. My father might be a baronet, but that’s barely nobility. Just enough title to get into trouble, but not nearly enough to escape it.
Trigger Warning:
This chapter contains scenes of physical abuse and non-consensual acts. Reader discretion is advised.
If you do not wish to have that part of the story please carry on to the next chapter now.
How about you stop wasting your time with all that useless junk and submit already. You are wasting both of our time, Admamias said.
Don't touch me asshole I said ripping my wrist out of his hands. before the back of his hand smacked my head so hard it sent me spraling on my desk.Shut the fuck up bitch you are nothing you ear me? Nothing! I'm done waiting for you ungratefull ass to accept reality.
I didnt say a word still stunned by the backhand and trying to get back up.
when i finaly stood back defiantly at him. he grabed my neck chocking me a bit.
Now listen bitch if you keep resisting I'll not only take you but I ll take everything else including everything your piece of shit of a father own. You are nothing but an ant for me to play with you ear?
Fuck you. i whistled out of breath
Realy? he said before starting punching my face again and again. still holding my neck in one hand.
before trowing me on the ground. half concious beaten to a pulp.
He took off his belt and started beating me with it using the heaving buckle as a mace against my back. You rabbid dog will learn your place and until you learn to keep your mouth shut i'll keep making your life hell.
I was terrified and in terrible pain. However nothing could prepare me for what he did next he ripped the back of my dress open taking off his trouser. and forcing his way.
The next minute was filled with despair and agony. the vile beast taking my innoncence to the grave.
I wailed in terrible pain as despair filled my soul.