"Mirai!"
Kazuma Sensei stern voice cut through the classroom's silence like a sharp blade. "Wake up immediately!"
Mirai had been deep in slumber, her head resting on her folded arm on the desk. She jolted awake at the sound of her name, slowly lifting her head to find dozens of eyes staring at her. She wiped the sleep from her eyes with a lazy motion, trying to sit up straight.
Kazuma sighed deeply, lines of frustration evident on his face. "Mirai, this is the third time this week. Sleeping in my classes has apparently become a habit for you."
"Yes, sensei." Her response was devoid of any interest, as if reciting a word she'd memorized by heart.
Kazuma returned to explaining his lesson while Mirai's eyes wandered into empty space. She stared out the window, watching the slow clouds drift by with a laziness that matched her own.
The bell rang, announcing the end of class, but Kazuma didn't gather his papers as usual. Instead, he cast a careful glance at the large clock hanging on the wall, then turned to his students.
"Listen carefully. Everyone head to the training grounds now. Today you'll face a practical test of your magical abilities." He paused, sweeping the class with a sharp gaze. "This isn't just a routine test. It's your chance to discover the limits of your talents... and surpass them."
The students rose with obvious enthusiasm, whispering among themselves as they streamed toward the door. Mirai walked behind them with heavy steps, yawning with boredom.
*Always the same thing,* she thought as she dragged her feet. *Silly tests for abilities I mastered years ago.*
Mirai wasn't like other children. Since she'd become aware of the world, she breathed magic as naturally as air. She was born with an exceptional talent that allowed her to grasp the most complex spells after reading them just once. What took others months to master, she accomplished in minutes. This blessing had become a curse—the world became boring when nothing challenged your abilities.
Everyone arrived at the spacious training grounds. Kazuma stood in the center, his usual dignity filling the space, and gestured for the students to line up.
"We'll begin the assessment now. Each of you will perform a spell of your choice before everyone." He raised his hand in warning. "Remember, this isn't a display of power. It's a comprehensive evaluation of precision, control, and creativity. I want to see your real progress."
The demonstration began. Student after student stepped to the center, gathered their focus, and cast their spell. Small fireballs danced in the air, transparent barriers formed and vanished, miniature lightning bolts shot toward illusory targets. Some showed remarkable skill, while others stumbled slightly but displayed clear determination.
"Mirai, your turn."
She advanced with lazy steps toward the center of the grounds. She looked at Kazuma with half-closed eyes, as if about to fall back asleep. "Which spell exactly do you want?"
"Choose something..." Kazuma paused, searching for the right words, "something that won't destroy the academy or turn us all to ash."
Mirai let out a soft laugh. "You always ask for the impossible."
She closed her eyes for seconds, gathering her inner energy. At first, nothing happened. Then, very slowly, thin threads of flame began dancing around her fingers. They were red at first, ordinary flame like any other.
But Mirai wasn't satisfied with that.
She pushed more of her energy, focused deeper. The flame began to change, transforming from ordinary red to deep crimson, like the blood of ancient dragons. The heat rose noticeably, making nearby students instinctively retreat.
She raised her hand toward the magical training dummy. She released the crimson flame in a focused beam. The dummy didn't burn—it vaporized. It turned to ash in fractions of a second, as if it had never existed.
But Mirai wasn't finished yet.
The crimson flame began spinning around her, forming a vortex of living fire. She turned toward Kazuma and began walking toward him slowly, each step leaving a burned mark on the ground.
"I've developed a new technique," she said in a neutral tone, as if discussing the weather. "A shield of living flame. Anything that touches it..." She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Well, you saw what happened to the dummy."
Kazuma retreated two steps, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. "Excellent! Very excellent! You can... you can extinguish it now, please?"
Mirai extinguished the flame with a lazy wave of her hand. The suffocating heat suddenly vanished, leaving a strange coldness in the air.
"By the way," she added while examining her nails indifferently, "I've reached level twelve in darkness, water, wind, and lightning elements. Earth is still at eleven, but I'm working on it."
Heavy silence descended upon the grounds. Even the sound of wind seemed to have stopped.
"I've also invented a new spell. I call it 'Lightning Rain.'" She continued as if explaining a recipe. "I merged water with lightning to create a storm cloud. Every raindrop is charged with electricity. It hits its target, electrocutes it instantly." She sighed in frustration. "The only problem is it's only level ten. It won't affect demon lords' generals much."
*Demon lords' generals?* Kazuma thought, his eyes widening. *Is this child planning to invade the world?*
"Well done," he finally managed to say, his voice barely a whisper. "You may... return to your place."
Mirai returned to the line amid complete silence. The gazes fixed on her were a complex mixture—admiration mixed with awe, suppressed envy, and fear that dared not reveal itself. As for Kazuma, he was lost in his thoughts. Mirai was a rare talent, but talent without guidance or discipline could be...
He shook his head, banishing the dark thoughts.
After all students finished their demonstrations, Kazuma gathered them again. "Good performance from everyone. I'll see greater improvement next time." Then he added in a serious tone, "Don't forget to prepare tomorrow's lesson. Continuous training is the key to development."
---
The Academy Day finally ended. Mirai walked toward her home with the same heavy steps. Upon arrival, she glimpsed her brother Lars exiting the main gate.
"Good evening, Mirai-nee san." He greeted her with a tone full of genuine respect.
"Good evening." She replied with her usual coldness, then asked, "Where to at this hour?"
"I have some free time. I'll practice swordsmanship in the back training ground." He paused, then added enthusiastically, "What do you think about joining me? We could train together."
Mirai gave him a long look, then said coldly, "Thanks, but... swords? Really?"
She shook her head. "Magic is enough for everything. Why waste your time with a primitive piece of metal? I advise you to focus on developing your magical abilities instead of..."
"I understand." Lars interrupted, trying to hide his disappointment. "Perhaps another time. See you later."
Mirai watched him walk away, then shrugged and entered the house. She went straight to her room, threw herself on the bed without removing her shoes. She stared at the ceiling, counting the fine cracks in the paint.
Time passed with killing slowness.
When the dinner bell rang, she sighed and dragged herself toward the dining hall. Upon entering, everyone was gathered around the table—her father Aizen with his usual dignity, her mother Elene with her warm smile, and her three siblings.
Mirai sat in her usual place and began eating in silence. She was about to rise when she finished, but her father's voice stopped her.
"Mirai." His tone was calm but firm. "I've received concerning reports from the academy. Sleeping in classes, lack of interest in lessons..."
"They have nothing worth being interested in." She replied without looking at him.
Aizen sighed, stroking his beard with a familiar gesture. "Mirai, you're a princess. Your actions reflect on the entire family. On the kingdom."
Mirai finally raised her eyes, a clear look of defiance. "I'm in an ordinary local academy. If I were in the Demon Lords Academy like Lars and Nanaki, perhaps..." She paused, then added, "But I'm not complaining. Just... if you want discipline from me, I want something in return."
"What is it?"
"The Seitan Forest. I want to go there."
Elene's spoon fell from her hand. Nanaki gasped audibly. Even the usually calm Lars looked shocked. Only Aizen remained still, his eyes studying his daughter carefully.
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"This isn't the right time," he finally said. "You can't just leave the academy like that."
"With respect, Father," Mirai leaned forward slightly, "the academy is a waste of time for me. They teach me nothing new, and I can't use a tenth of my real abilities. In the forest, I'll unleash everything I have. I'll test my true limits." She paused, then added in a softer tone, "Afterward, I promise to follow all academy rules. Even if it kills me with boredom."
"Impossible!" Elene burst out. "Mirai, you're twelve! The Seitan Forest... the monsters there are endless. They say they return to life every minute!"
"I know." Mirai replied with frightening calm. "That's why I want to go. I'm not foolish, Mother. I know my limits well. And I know I can survive."
Long silence. Then, to everyone's surprise:
"Agreed."
Elene turned to her husband in shock. "Aizen! Think about this! This is madness!"
"The matter is settled," Aizen said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then he turned to Mirai. "Tomorrow at dawn. Be at the training ground."
Mirai nodded, and for the first time in a long while, something resembling a smile appeared on her face. "I'll be there."
She rose and left, leaving her family in stunned silence.
---
In the darkness before dawn, Mirai woke without need for an alarm. She dressed in her training clothes, tied back her long hair, and looked out the window. The last stars were bidding farewell to the night, and the eastern horizon was beginning to blush with embarrassment.
She arrived at the training ground to find her father waiting. He stood in the middle of the empty grounds, his black cloak rippling with the cold dawn breeze.
"Ready?" he asked without preamble.
"More than ever."
"Good. But I have a condition." He said while studying her facial expressions. "I'll accompany you to the forest. I won't interfere, just... observe."
"I don't mind," she replied simply.
"Then let's go."
---
At the entrance to Seitan Forest, they stood contemplating the giant trees that blocked the nascent sunlight. Heavy air charged with danger emanated from within.
"Mirai," Aizen began, his voice carrying unusual seriousness, "the conditions I've set for entry are difficult. You must kill a thousand monsters daily, for a full year. If you fail even one day..." he paused, "you'll remain trapped here forever."
Mirai turned to him, her eyes gleaming with sharp intelligence. "That's why you used the duplication spell?"
A slight smile crossed Aizen's face. "You noticed then?"
"From the first moment. Your energy is exactly half the usual."
"Well done. I split myself in two. If... what we don't hope for happens, this body will disappear and its memories will transfer to the original." He looked at her directly. "The final question: do you still want to enter?"
"Yes." She answered without hesitation, and her eyes sparked with an excitement that hadn't shown for a long time. Then she paused. "But... a whole year? Isn't that long?" She smiled sarcastically. "It might seem strange for me to say this, but won't I be expelled from the academy? Even being a princess won't excuse me."
Aizen smiled mysteriously. "Don't worry. I've already arranged everything." Then he gestured toward the forest. "Now, let's go."
---
The moment they crossed the forest's invisible gate, Mirai felt the immediate transition to a completely different world.
The trees were gigantic beyond logic, their trunks thick as towers, their branches intertwined above to form a ceiling of dense greenery that blocked all light. Leaves fell with strange slowness, as if time itself moved to a different rhythm here. Thick fog wrapped everything, moving as if alive, winding around trees and creeping between giant roots.
The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and ancient moss, mixed with something else... something metallic and sharp, like the smell of old blood and black magic. Every breath was an effort, as if the air itself resisted entering the lungs.
The sounds... were the strangest. Whispers emanated from every corner, from every tree, from the ground itself. Not words, but something older, deeper. As if the forest breathed, watched, waited.
Cold crept through her clothes, not natural cold, but something that arose from within the bones. And in the air, strange energy pulsed like a giant heart, pressing on every cell in her body.
Suddenly, something moved among the trees.
It appeared from nothing, a nightmare incarnate. A huge wolf's head on a twisted body, crimson eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. Black fur like night, stained with viscous fluids dripping from wounds that wouldn't heal. Legs covered in bony thorns, and long claws that scratched the ground with each step. Its roar came from bottomless depths, a sound that made the trees themselves tremble.
Mirai stood, watching it with half-closed eyes. No fear, no tension. Just boredom.
The monster launched like a black storm, the ground shaking under its weight, its fang-filled jaw open to swallow her.
At the last moment, Mirai raised a single finger.
A small crimson flame, no larger than a candle flame, shot out lazily.
The moment it touched the monster, it vaporized. It didn't burn—it vanished, turned to ash atoms that scattered in the still air.
Mirai turned to her father, frustration clear on her face. "Please tell me they're not all this weak. I'll die of boredom before I complete a week."
Aizen smiled knowingly. "Well, who knows? I can't tell you anything. This is your challenge."
He revealed his huge wings, black feathers like night gleaming with faint light. "I'll watch from above. When you kill the thousand, they'll all disappear and return at the next dawn. I'll come to you then."
Mirai nodded, and her father took flight, leaving her alone in the heart of the nightmare.
The march began. Each step deeper into the forest, each breath heavier than the last. The strange energy increased in density, pressing on her senses, trying to penetrate her defenses.
The sounds changed. No longer whispers, but muffled screams, moaning coming from every direction. She stopped, listening, analyzing.
Then the forest exploded with movement.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of creatures pounced from every direction. Monkeys with twisted faces, hollow eyes radiating madness, fangs dripping black poison. They moved like shadows, jumping from tree to tree, surrounding her from all sides.
"Finally, something worth the effort," Mirai muttered.
She raised her hands, and the air around her began to ripple. Invisible wind blades formed, dozens, hundreds, spinning around her like a tornado of death. She released them.
Screams filled the forest. Severed bodies fell like rain, black blood staining everything. But for each one that fell, two appeared. The forest vomited its creatures endlessly.
*This is better,* she thought as she moved to the next attack. *But still too easy.*
Hours passed in this dance of death. Mirai moved among enemies like a ghost, every movement calculated, every strike lethal. Crimson fire, blue lightning, wind blades, earth thorns—her magical arsenal was inexhaustible.
Then she felt it.
A different presence. Stronger. More dangerous.
The trees parted, and it emerged.
A dragon? No, something worse. A dragon's head on a warrior's body, metallic scales reflecting light with no source, cold blue eyes like death itself. Every breath from it made the fog freeze, every step left frost in its wake.
Mirai looked at it, and for the first time, felt a spark of real interest.
It pounced on her with speed surpassing lightning. She released her crimson flame, expecting quick victory.
But the creature did the impossible. The part of its body that would have been hit by the flame... separated. It cut it by will, letting the flame pass through empty space.
*Interesting.*
It reached her in an instant, its claws tearing the air. She slid backward, released a powerful lightning bolt. It pierced its scales, but it didn't stop. As if pain fed it.
She turned the ground beneath it to quicksand. It jumped before being swallowed, pounced from above like a block of winged death.
*Enough playing.*
In a fluid motion, she drew her sword. Not just any sword—her true weapon, which she rarely needed to use. The moment her hand touched its hilt, everything changed.
The air itself seemed to bend to her will. Her speed multiplied tenfold. Her power flowed like a roaring river.
They met in the air. One strike.
The creature split in half, its frozen blue blood scattering in the air like ice crystals.
She landed gracefully, catching her breath. But the forest granted her no rest.
A new wave, larger than all before. Monkeys and wolves and nameless things, all pouncing at once.
She jumped high, her hands drawing in the air. A huge magic circle formed beneath her, pulsing with raw lightning energy.
"Storm of Destruction!"
A thousand lightning bolts descended at once. The forest lit up as if a sun was born in its heart. Screams mixed with the sound of deafening thunder.
When everything ended, she stood in the center of a circle of ash and destruction.
*A quarter of my energy,* she assessed calmly. *And hundreds still remain. If I continue like this...*
She changed her strategy. Instead of brute force, precision. Instead of wholesale destruction, calculated strikes. Each spell with the minimum energy needed to kill.
The following hours were a lesson in lethal efficiency. Mirai moved like a programmed war machine, every movement studied, every strike a kill. Monsters came, monsters died, monsters returned. An endless cycle of violence.
Sometimes, she faced unique enemies. A giant bird with wings of black fire. A snake with a thousand heads, each spitting different poison. A spider the size of a house, its threads cutting like swords.
Each one a new challenge. Each one a lesson in adaptation.
The sun—if it rose in this cursed place—set and returned multiple times. Or was time itself moving differently here? She couldn't be sure.
What she knew was the counter in her head was approaching a thousand.
Last monster, last strike, last death cry.
Then... silence.
Absolute, complete silence, almost audible in itself. The monsters vanished as if they'd never been. Even the blood and corpses evaporated.
Mirai collapsed to her knees, then fell on her back. Her chest rose and fell violently, her heart beating like war drums, every muscle in her body screaming in protest.
"Good performance for the first day."
She opened one eye to see her father landing beside her. She didn't bother to respond.
Aizen smiled. "So? Fun or boring?"
"I won't say boring," she managed to say in a tired voice. "But... exhausting. Very exhausting. If I'd used my full power from the start, my energy would have depleted and I'd have died before reaching a hundred."
She looked at her father's robe, that legendary robe made of eternity crystal. "If you gave me the Crystalline robe... I could really enjoy myself here."
Aizen sat beside her. "That's cheating, and you know it."
"Just one day? It won't hurt anyone."
He laughed. "Alright, I'll give it to you." Her eyes lit with hope. "On the last day."
Hope turned to immediate frustration. "You're the worst father in history."
Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her she hadn't eaten since dawn. She rose with difficulty, directed her hand toward the nearest tree. It turned to dry wood in seconds. She arranged it, lit a warm fire.
She looked at one of the monster corpses that hadn't disappeared—perhaps because it was killed after the thousand? She turned to her father. "How do I cook this thing?"
Aizen smiled slyly. "First, you need to clean it. Remove the skin, internal organs, anything inedible..."
Mirai began working with tired but precise movements, using her sword to cut parts of the monster. Every movement was an effort, her muscles protesting more activity after a day of continuous fighting.
"Now," Aizen continued while watching her, "cut the meat into thin slices. It'll cook faster, and the taste... well, will be less bad."
She followed his instructions, hanging the slices over the fire using branches she found. She watched the flame with heavy eyes, her thoughts swaying between exhaustion and curiosity about what awaited her in the coming days.
The smell that began emanating from the meat wasn't... encouraging. She took a small piece, tasted it cautiously.
Her face froze in an expression of absolute disgust.
Dry. Tough. No taste except a strange bitterness that stuck to the tongue. Like chewing burned leather mixed with ash.
"This..." she began, then stopped, searching for suitable words. "This is worse than anything I've eaten in my life."
Aizen laughed quietly, took a piece and ate it without hesitation. "Not everything in life is delicious or comfortable, Mirai. Sometimes, survival means enduring the unbearable."
"But this is torture!" she protested while forcing herself to swallow another piece.
"Your fault," Aizen said in a teacher's tone. "You came without preparations. No medical kit, no salt or spices, not even clean water. Arrogance, daughter, is an enemy more dangerous than any monster."
"Trivial details don't concern me," she replied stubbornly.
"Trivial details," he corrected calmly, "are what separate survival from death in long-term battles."
She completed her miserable meal in silence, each bite a battle with her instinct that screamed rejection. When she finished, she was full but miserable, tired but restless.
She lay on the cold ground, fatigue pulling her toward sleep.
"The monsters will return at six in the morning," Aizen said. "Be ready. I won't wake you."
But Mirai had already sunk into deep sleep before he finished his sentence.
Aizen looked at her for a long moment, a tender smile crossing his usually stern face. Then he lay down in turn, surrendering to sleep.
(To be continued.)

