Kael was invited to the National Academy and had to leave his village in two days.

  He shared an emotional goodbye with Mira, promising they would meet again at the academy.

  After arriving, Kael met his teacher and saw a sparring match—where the strongest student turned out to be a blind swordswoman.

  “The truth is… she can’t see at all.”

  The words hit Kael like a blow.

  Shock rushed through him, followed immediately by confusion. His gaze snapped back to the girl on the field, replaying every movement he had just witnessed.

  “With her precision and control,” Kael said slowly, disbelief heavy in his voice, “no one would ever think she’s blind.”

  His fingers curled into a fist.

  How is this possible?

  If I tried to do something like that using mana…

  Seeing without eyes was unnatural.

  It should consume an enormous amount of mana—far more than a student could possibly afford. The idea went against everything Kael believed he understood.

  Was I wrong about mana… from the very beginning?

  “Yes,” Kaji said calmly, as if answering his thoughts.

  Kael turned sharply. “Yes?”

  “She uses a Mana Zone.”

  “M-Mana Zone?” Kael repeated, frowning.

  Kaji nodded.

  “A Mana Zone is a technique where a mage spreads their mana outside their body, covering the surrounding area. Anything that enters the zone can be detected through mana sense.”

  Kael listened closely.

  “But it’s a low-level technique,” Kaji continued. “With a normal Mana Zone, you can only sense presence—not shape or precise movement. Just that something is there.”

  “Then how—”

  “She took it a step further,” Kaji interrupted.

  He gestured toward the field.

  “Instead of spreading her mana wide, she compresses it. A smaller zone. Denser. Sharper. It costs slightly more mana than the normal method—but far less than true sensory magic.”

  Kael’s breath caught.

  “And she aligned it perfectly with her sword range,” Kaji added. “Every step, every swing, every block happens inside that space.”

  “No blind spots,” Kael whispered.

  Kaji smiled faintly.

  “She calls it Blade Domain.”

  Kael stared at the girl again, awe slowly replacing confusion.

  A technique that doesn’t force mana…

  But understands how to use it.

  I wonder if she knows the true laws of mana.

  “Where did she learn an ability like that?” Kael asked.

  “As far as I know,” Kaji replied, “she discovered it on her own. She’s been using mana since she was born.”

  Kael’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  Instinct… that explains it.

  She doesn’t understand the laws of nature I discovered—she’s using them unconsciously.

  And because she’s been using mana since birth… even if her method is imperfect, her reserves must be enormous by now.

  For the first time since arriving at the academy, Kael felt it clearly.

  This place was going to change everything.

  “Hey, everyone!” Kaji called out loudly.

  The three students on the training field turned toward him.

  “Come here.”

  They exchanged brief glances before walking over. When they stopped in front of Kaji, their eyes shifted to the unfamiliar boy beside him.

  “Meet Kael Lumis,” Kaji said.

  “He’s the newest student of the academy. From today onward, he’ll be training and studying with you.”

  Kaji gestured toward them.

  “Kael, let me introduce you.”

  He pointed at the boy Kael had seen sparring earlier.

  “Let’s start with the one you saw fighting. His name is Zeph Vardan. He’s from Vardan Village.”

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  Zeph crossed his arms, a confident grin spreading across his face.

  “He practices a technique he created himself,” Kaji continued.

  “He calls it Divine Punch. He detaches his mana in solid form and fires it forward. His current effective range is about one to two meters.”

  Zeph’s grin widened.

  “He also converts his mana into a lightning current—mostly to boost his movement speed and strengthen his punches.”

  “Hmph,” Zeph said, clearly proud.

  Kaji then turned to the girl.

  “And she is Aeris Ash. She’s from Gao Village, near the Azure Sea.”

  Aeris gave a short nod, calm and unreadable.

  “I’ve already explained her ability,” Kaji added.

  Finally, Kaji pointed at the last boy.

  “And this is Kany Rust. He’s from the capital.”

  Kany straightened, waiting.

  “He uses fire magic,” Kaji said flatly. “That’s all.”

  “…Hey! That’s not fair!” Kany protested. “At least tell him how I use it!”

  “It is what it is,” Kaji replied, turning his face away.

  Kany scoffed.

  “Oh, I get it now,” he said loudly, glancing at Kael. “Hey—Kael, right? Do you know why he’s our teacher?”

  Kaji’s eyes shifted toward him.

  “Because he’s the weakest mage in the entire kingdom,” Kany declared, laughing loudly.

  “Hey! That’s not true—and you know it!” Kaji snapped.

  “It is what it is,” Kany replied smugly, mimicking Kaji’s tone as he turned away.

  Kany and Zeph burst into laughter.

  Kael smiled faintly.

  That smile vanished the moment Kaji noticed it.

  Something inside the teacher snapped.

  The reputation he had endured for years—the impression he had built in Kael’s eyes—was fading right in front of him.

  Enough.

  “I will tell you why I am your teacher,” Kaji said sharply.

  The air grew tense.

  “Kael. Kany. Go to the training ground.”

  The open field stretched wide beneath the sky.

  “Kael,” Kaji said, his voice firm, “hit Kany with the strongest spell you have.”

  “…Whaaat???”

  Both Kael and Kany froze.

  “Teacher, wait—!” Kany started.

  “Do as I say,” Kaji cut in, anger laced through every word. “Kael.”

  “…Okay,” Kael said hesitantly.

  He stepped back, putting distance between them.

  Mana gathered.

  The air around Kael twisted unnaturally, rushing inward as if being dragged by an invisible force.

  A massive fireball formed before him.

  The wind howled. Dust lifted from the ground.

  Everyone could feel it.

  Even Aeris stiffened.

  “W–Wait… wait—don’t do this!” Kany shouted, panic breaking through his voice.

  Kael released the spell.

  The fireball tore forward.

  A violent explosion swallowed the field.

  Smoke and dust surged upward.

  When it finally cleared, Kany lay sprawled across the ground, unmoving.

  “…I wasn’t expecting that,” Kaji muttered.

  Kael’s heart dropped.

  “Kany!” He ran forward. “Are you okay?!”

  “…Am I dead?” Kany muttered, then opened one eye.

  He blinked.

  “…Hey. I’m fine.”

  He slowly sat up.

  Then rage hit him.

  “What the hell was that, you piece of crap?!” Kany shouted, turning on Kaji.

  Kaji smiled calmly.

  “This,” he said, “is my ability.”

  “When I activate it, I can create an invisible armor around anyone within my effect.”

  Everyone fell silent.

  “If someone takes damage,” Kaji continued, “that damage is redirected to the armor instead. The person themselves receives no physical harm.”

  “…Then why did it hurt so much?” Kany growled.

  “Because the armor absorbs impact,” Kaji replied. “Pain still registers. Injury does not.”

  “And it disappears once it absorbs too much damage,” he added.

  “…Too much?” Kael asked. “How much is that?”

  “It depends,” Kaji answered. “On my mana when casting—and how much protection I choose to grant.”

  He glanced at them.

  “If multiple people are protected, the armor’s durability is divided equally.”

  Kael frowned.

  “That shouldn’t be possible,” he said slowly. “Not with normal mana rules.”

  Kaji’s smile widened.

  “You’re right, Kael.”

  The students stiffened.

  “I am a Vow User.”

  “…Vow user?” several voices echoed in confusion.

  “You can only achieve so much by forcing mana to obey,” Kaji said. “But when you make a vow—nature itself allows exceptions.”

  He raised a finger.

  “The stronger the vow, the more unreal the result.”

  “So what’s your vow?” Kany asked.

  “I vowed that I will only create invisible accessories,” Kaji replied.

  “I inscribe rules into them at the moment of creation.”

  “The mana cost is paid once—during creation and rule inscription.”

  “After that, the accessory functions independently. No maintenance. No active control.”

  Kany’s eyes widened.

  “…That’s why I couldn’t move. Or cast spells.”

  “Exactly,” Kaji said with a small smirk.

  Aeris crossed her arms.

  “Doesn’t that make you immortal?” she asked.

  “Couldn’t you just make an accessory with the rule: ‘The wearer is immortal’?”

  Kaji shook his head.

  “No.”

  “That kind of rule would require more mana than I could ever possess,” Kaji said calmly.

  “And there’s another restriction.”

  He looked directly at Kael.

  “If I have never physically touched the target, such rules will never work.”

  Silence fell over the training ground.

  “Then why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Kany demanded.

  “We’ve been here for a whole month.”

  “Because there was no need,” Kaji replied, a faint smirk forming as he glanced at Kany.

  Kael finally understood.

  This man wasn’t weak.

  He was restricted.

  And restriction—when chosen—was power.