Chapter 5

"I know you're all about to burst with impatience, so in this lesson, I’m going to teach you a brand-new, highly anticipated, and truly impressive extraordinary art." Raymond looked on with satisfaction as the students’ mouths hung open. "Now, follow me to the practice field!"

As his words fell, a cheer erupted from the students. Several jumped straight from their seats and sprinted outside.

Claire gasped, casting a worried look at Iris.

Iris shrugged. "Let’s go."

After winding their way out of the old building, they arrived at the practice field. Raymond led them to the side of the shooting range, leaned his back against the railing, and began his lecture.

"Before this, we have already learned basic spells like Levitation, Luminescence, Grease, and Magic Missile. Combined with the innate arts you gained upon becoming extraordinary, everyone here already possesses five extraordinary arts."

"For an extraordinary below the second tier, this can be considered a balance of offense and defense. If you wish to learn more, you can trade for them within your families or on Golden Locust Street, but be careful to verify their authenticity. After all, extraordinary knowledge does not come cheap."

A student complained, "But our families won't sell us extraordinary arts, nor will they teach us new ones."

"That is exactly what I am about to address—" Raymond tapped the railing behind him. "Do you know why almost all extraordinaries start with these basic spells? Because the mana consumption of most extraordinary arts is far too high for beginners."

Raymond turned sideways toward the targets. He raised his cane and aimed its rounded tip at the bullseye. Without chanting or any superfluous movement, a fireball shot out in the blink of an eye and struck the center dead-on!

After a brief silence, the students erupted in exclamation.

Raymond tapped the railing again, signaling them to pay attention. "This is what you will learn today—the Flame Art."

Every extraordinary art has an auxiliary incantation before it can be released. The incantation acts as a guide for the mana within the body, directing it to its destination before final release. After Raymond taught them the incantation, he instructed them to recite it silently in their minds while he traced the path with his cane against his slightly plump frame.

"You can feel the mana passing from here, through here—"

Iris followed along, reciting the incantation in her heart and feeling the flow of mana within her body.

But just like the original owner of this body, her mana always dissipated at the final moment of condensation; no matter how hard she tried, it would not take shape.

Iris tried several more times, failing each time, and began cursing under her breath.

"Would any students like to come up and try?" Raymond stepped aside to clear the range.

Several students immediately pushed forward, pulling out short staves, daggers, and other auxiliary weapons to fire off flame projectiles to the awe of the others.

"Do it again! One more time!" someone shouted from the back.

One student attempted the Flame Art again, but when he tried for a third time, he found he could no longer release it.

Under the students' puzzled gazes, Raymond smiled and said, "The mana consumption of the Flame Art is four to five times that of a Magic Missile. This is perfectly normal. Keep practicing, children! By the end of this month, anyone who can cast three Flame Arts in a row will be rewarded with three course credits."

"What? But I can only cast ten Magic Missiles in total!"

"That’s too hard! Mr. Raymond, that’s just not realistic!"

"...Three credits? Mr. Raymond is truly generous. I only got one credit after finishing a week of patrol duty."

Raymond said with a smile, "Practice more, and you will succeed."

Seeing that Raymond ignored their complaints and pressure, they had no choice but to continue practicing.

After a while, more people mastered the correct technique and stepped onto the range.

This included Claire. She was talented and had successfully learned the Flame Art. She returned to Iris’s side with a hesitant expression, clearly wanting to ask about her progress but afraid of hurting her pride.

Iris smiled and said, "Claire, you’re really amazing. Could you tell me the trick to casting it?"

"Well..." Seeing that Iris’s attitude was natural and she didn't seem crushed, Claire didn't shy away. "I try to let the mana in my body condense part of itself while it’s still flowing. That way, I can complete the casting faster."

As someone who had lived as a complete Muggle for over twenty years, Iris was filled with curiosity.

She asked, "What does it feel like when the condensation succeeds?"

Claire raised her right hand, her left finger pointing at the palm of her right hand where she held her short staff. "...It feels like the place where the palm touches the casting medium gets a bit hot? You know my theory isn't great, I—I can't describe it, but I just feel like something is about to come out from there..."

Iris: ...

Damn it, she had absolutely no such feeling.

The dark attribute within her simply did not follow her command to condense into flame.

Seeing her silence, Claire asked cautiously, "How... how are you feeling?"

Knowing exactly where the problem lay, Iris had to lie: "Uh, I think I’m getting the hang of it. Let me try again."

"Didn't you bring an auxiliary weapon?" Claire finally noticed she was empty-handed. "Where’s your dagger?"

"Lost it," Iris said.

In truth, it had been sold by the original owner. After being swindled out of a large sum of money, she had been in such dire financial straits that she had been forced to sell that hard-silver dagger.

Claire clearly didn't believe her nonsense. She said, "...Then you’ll have to rent one to use for now."

Iris turned to leave, asking, "Where do I rent one?"

Claire thought for a moment, then grabbed her hand and said, "I’ll go with you."

Claire led her to the side of the practice range, where a wooden display rack stood.

Iris noticed there was only one dagger left. She took it down—it was silver-gray all over, the blade had chips, and the leather wrap on the hilt was loose. It couldn't compare to the silver-shining dagger Iris originally had, but this was no time to be picky.

She had barely warmed the hilt in her hand when she heard someone shout from behind, "Wait, you can't take that!"

Iris looked back to see a freckle-faced boy. His eyes were fixed on the dagger in her hand. "I need to use that. Give it to me!"

This was a blatant robbery.

"First come, first served," Iris said concisely.

She didn't have the habit of letting go of things she had already obtained.

The boy immediately reached out to snatch it. Prepared, Iris stepped half a step to the side, and the boy lunged forward, nearly crashing into the display cabinet. This scene made Claire let out a soft laugh.

Seemingly surprised by her resistance, the freckled boy froze for a moment before his movements became even more frantic, waving his hands to grab her.

"You damn—"

Seeing that he wouldn't let it go, Claire hurriedly blocked the space between them with her staff, warning him sternly, "Stop it, Keane! We were here first. If you want to use it, you have to wait in line!"

"Claire... ha, stuck to this freak all day. Are you her mother?" Keane mocked her. "She can't use extraordinary arts at all, she can't even pass the exams. It’s a waste to give this to her."

Keane raised his volume as he spoke, clearly wanting everyone to hear him humiliate Iris.

Iris scanned the surroundings quickly and found that everyone was watching with cold, tacit indifference, accompanying this violence they were all too accustomed to.

"You brought your own weapon," Claire said coldly. "Did Julian send you to pick a fight? You really are his good little dog!"

This struck a nerve. Keane suddenly lashed out and shoved Claire to the side. She nearly hit a pillar, but was steadied by Iris's quick reflexes.

Iris had long noticed Claire’s protection of her, and now she finally understood why—she had remembered who Julian was.

His grandfather was an elder with some status in the family. Julian had once said some very obscene things to Iris, and after she scolded him back, he began picking on her constantly. He and his cronies had kept up this boring behavior for over a year without stopping.

Iris stood in front of Claire, expressionless, and pointed the dagger at Keane.

...She really hated trouble, but if she ignored someone pointing at her nose to pick a fight, there would only be more trouble later.

Bullying and violence only had two outcomes: being thoroughly dispelled or escalating without limit.

Keane looked at Iris, who was holding the dagger, with a sneering smile. "You want to fight me? Look at that amateur stance of yours. Do you think this is a dagger for combat?"

Iris said, "The pain it causes if it stabs you won't necessarily be any less than an extraordinary art."

Iris quickly assessed the situation in her mind—although she wasn't good at extraordinary arts, she and her opponent were about the same height and neither was particularly strong. Both were teenagers in their growth phase; it wasn't certain that she would be at a disadvantage.

Would the teacher maintain order?

Not necessarily. Given the family's tendency to only consider those with ability as human, the teacher and the family rules would likely side with Keane.

Because she was worthless.

"You wouldn't dare." Keane wore an expression of knowing her cowardice all too well. He raised his chin. "You don't have the guts, and hurting a clansman is punishable..."

Iris interrupted him with feigned impatience: "Do you think I care about that bullshit punishment?"

She said it loudly on purpose, so that the onlookers and the other bastards who had been thinking of harassing her would hear it clearly.

"Anyway, I can't pass the exams, and I'll probably never finish paying off those damn debts in my life—"

"But I can choose to take a few eyesores with me to the grave before I die."

Keane was shaken by her gaze and her words. He took half a step back, still watching Iris nervously, afraid that she might actually charge at him to fight for her life.

Was Iris the kind of person who would do that?

Keane realized that he actually felt a hint of fear toward Iris, a character he had previously disregarded.

"What are you all doing?!" A voice broke their standoff.

Raymond stepped past the onlookers and walked quickly toward them, his gaze sweeping over both of them in an instant.

Although it was brief, Iris caught the impatience hidden beneath his amiable facade.

Raymond stood between them. "Who can tell me what happened? Child, you tell me." He pointed at a nearby student at random.

"Not quite sure, it seems they were arguing over who gets to rent the weapon..." the student said vaguely.

"We were here first," Claire said, beating them to it. "Keane tried to snatch the dagger we got."

"It seems there was some oversight by the staff in charge of supplies." Raymond gave a breezy solution. "I think you can take turns using it so you won't delay your practice."

Iris frowned: Raymond’s fence-sitting attitude was obvious.

To not handle it fairly was to favor one side.

"Don't look so sour, children." Raymond suggested, "There are still thirty minutes left in this lesson for you to practice. Ten minutes for each of you."

"Alright, sir." Keane spoke first, his confidence restored by Raymond's handling of the situation.

He turned to look at Iris, the smile on his face widening.

"We can have a fair contest. Whoever performs better during their practice time, whoever has more successes... gets the final ten minutes."