After about two hours of studying—in which Erick fell asleep in his chair with his feet propped on the table, only to wake up, declare "This is boring as hell," and leave to do something more interesting—we decided to call it a day.

  We had dinner in the mostly-empty late dining hall, then headed toward our dorms, talking about Erick's chaotic energy, Theo's creepy mana-sensing comments, how Lina's classes had gone, and how tomorrow our first class would be the same.

  Back in my room, I checked my schedule again. Tomorrow would start with Corruption Studies with Professor Brume, a brief respite before Magical Combat Dynamics with Professor Theron, followed by my private lesson with Emberheart.

  I was still completely resolved to tell Emberheart the truth tomorrow. The prince's move had only reinforced my desire to finally start making real progress. If he thought he could intimidate me into submission through social isolation, he would be sorely disappointed.

  Lying in bed, I let my mind drift, thinking about floating mana, sandwiches eaten in defiance, and the strange allies I was somehow accumulating.

  The next morning, I woke up completely refreshed, feeling ready to tackle the entire day with newfound determination.

  The walk to my first class was surprisingly calm. Most students seemed to actively steer clear of me, and the constant whispers had shifted away from me.

  Instead, most people were talking about Aurora and the Prince in hushed, excited tones. I didn't bother paying close enough attention to understand the details, catching only fragments like "competition" and "finally" and "about time."

  I arrived early at the lecture hall and found Lina already there, hunched over her notes with intense focus.

  She’s really taking this seriously.

  I went to sit beside her but opted not to interrupt her studies. Instead, I focused on trying to gather what people around us were discussing.

  It seemed to be about some kind of competition that Aurora and the Prince would participate in, though no one seemed to know any actual details. They just kept talking in circles about their opinions on who would win, never agreeing on anything, just repeating the same points louder.

  At least it was mildly entertaining.

  When it was almost time for class to start, Lina closed her book and turned her attention to me, her face lighting up.

  "I managed to solve some of the practice exercises!" she said with a proud smile.

  "That's impressive. That probably puts you ahead of the entire class."

  Her smile faded slightly, replaced by concern. "Did you do any extra studying? We need to keep making progress or you won't be able to get a single question right on the test."

  "I tried for a bit," I lied. "But magical theory is really confusing. Like, what do you mean I can just calculate the exact amount of mana I put in a spell?"

  "That's what Mana Studies is for," she explained patiently. "You're not expected to actually execute it yet, just understand the theory behind it."

  "It's still hard to believe it's possible."

  "It is possible. You'll see once you—"

  Professor Brume entered the room with slow, careful steps, carrying her book and notes with visible effort. She set them on her desk with a soft thump and gave us all a warm, grandmotherly smile.

  "Welcome, welcome," she said in her gentle voice. "For those who don't know me, I'm Professor Brume, and I'll be teaching you about corruption this year."

  This time, the atmosphere was much calmer than yesterday's History of Magic disaster. The few whispers were low enough not to interrupt class, and them not being about me made it easier to actually pay attention.

  "Most of you have probably heard about corruption from your tutors—described as the natural decay of magic, perhaps?" She looked around the room, and several students nodded.

  "Good. We'll be exploring over this year what we actually know about how corruption forms, what it does to magic and the world around us, and by the end of the year, we'll touch on some deeper theoretical concepts. Nothing too frightening, I promise—the truly complicated material is reserved for the advanced class." She smiled warmly. "Though if any of you find yourself fascinated by the subject, I'm always happy to provide recommendations for next year."

  Corruption. The thing that had expanded three months ago, the exact timeframe when I'd used my power for the first time.

  Guilt threatened to wash over me, a cold weight settling in my stomach. But I couldn't let it take hold. It could be just a coincidence. It could be only part of the reason I was here. Making assumptions this early would be dangerous.

  "Now, for today's lesson, I want to talk about how corruption actually forms." Professor Brume moved to the board, her chalk scratching out a simple diagram—two circles with arrows between them. "To use magic is to create a disruption in the natural world. You've all heard in your basic education that magic stems from mana, yes?"

  Several students murmured agreement.

  "But here's the question that stumped scholars for centuries: how does mana come to be in the first place?" She paused, letting the question hang in the air. "Where does it originate?"

  A student in the front row raised her hand. "From our bodies? And the environment?"

  "Precisely!" Professor Brume beamed. "The mana in your bodies is a growing energy. Some inherit stronger reserves from their families—bloodline magic, as it's often called. Others develop it naturally over time, seemingly from nowhere." She tapped the first circle on the board. "But here's the fascinating part: that energy doesn't actually leave your parents when you inherit it, nor does it leave the environment around you when you draw from it. So where does your mana come from?"

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  She looked around the room, clearly enjoying the confused expressions.

  "This question led to one of the most important discoveries in magical history." She drew a second circle on the board, darker and more jagged. "There is a second element in this world, which we call the blight."

  The room had gone completely silent. Even the usual whisperers were paying attention now.

  "The blight is a form of energy that grows by absorbing ambient magic. The more magic exists in the world, the more the blight expands. It consumes magic like..." she paused, searching for a metaphor, "like a plant consumes sunlight. And just like a plant, it converts that energy into something else—in this case, corruption."

  A student raised his hand. "So corruption is... the blight's waste?"

  "In a manner of speaking, yes," Professor Brume said with an approving nod. "Though it's more accurate to say corruption is the byproduct of the blight's consumption of magic. Now, you might think this makes the blight our enemy, that it is destroying our magic." She paused, her expression growing more serious. "But I'm afraid the truth is more complicated. The blight is, in fact, a necessary evil."

  She added more details to her diagram, arrows showing flow and counter-flow.

  "Without the blight consuming magic, our spells wouldn't decay naturally. Magic would instead accumulate in the world, spreading and building until it reached what we call critical mass." She pointed to a section of the diagram where the arrows all converged into a chaotic scribble. "At that point, the magic would become so dense and unstable that it would collapse catastrophically. We're talking about explosions of raw magical energy that could level entire regions."

  That... sounds bad.

  "So the blight prevents this by constantly consuming ambient magic and converting it to corruption," she continued. "This diagram—which you may have seen in your magical theory classes—shows the rate of natural decay of magic into corruption."

  She sketched a curve on the board that started shallow but grew steeper.

  "As you can see, the relationship isn't linear. The more magic present, the more corruption forms—but not at a constant rate. It accelerates." She tapped the steepest part of the curve. "This is because the blight itself grows more active as magic becomes more abundant. It's a self-regulating system... to a point."

  "But Professor," a girl near the window asked, "if corruption grows faster when there's more magic, what happens if we use too much magic?"

  Professor Brume's smile faded slightly. "An excellent question. And the answer is: we don't entirely know. The blight consumes magic as a food source, but the process isn't perfectly efficient—some magic escapes the cycle. This inefficiency means corruption naturally decays over time when magic usage decreases."

  She set down her chalk, her expression troubled.

  "The problem is that no nation in this world would ever voluntarily reduce their magical usage. To do so would be to weaken themselves while their enemies remained strong. It would be devastating, both strategically and economically. Our entire civilization is built on magic."

  The room had grown heavy with the implications.

  "So we're caught in a cycle," she continued quietly. "We need magic to survive and prosper. But using magic feeds the blight. And the blight creates corruption. And too much corruption..." She trailed off, leaving the conclusion unspoken.

  As class continued, Professor Brume walked us through various aspects of corruption—how it manifests in different materials, how it affects living creatures, the warning signs of corrupted zones. The information was dense but she presented it with enough gentleness and real-world examples that it never felt overwhelming.

  But through it all, a feeling of impending doom kept creeping up on me.

  If magic kept growing at its current rate, and the blight kept consuming it, and corruption kept accelerating...

  When was it going to stop?

  And what happened when it didn't?

  "What do you have next?" Lina asked as we made our way out of the lecture hall, her notes tucked carefully under her arm.

  "Magical Combat Dynamics..." I checked my schedule even though I'd memorized it. "Any idea what that's about?"

  "What, did you just pick courses randomly without knowing what they were?" She looked exasperated but didn't wait for an answer. "Never mind. It's about how magic interacts with opposing magic in combat situations. Like magical theory, but specifically for when spells collide or counter each other."

  "Oh." My stomach sank. "So it'll be just as much of a nightmare as Theron's first class."

  "Yeah it will," Lina said with unfortunate honesty. "And I can't help you with this one—I'm not really interested in combat applications. My only combat-related courses are Spellcasting and Defensive Magic."

  "I'll manage," I said, knowing full well I probably wouldn't.

  She gave me a look that said she knew I was lying but was too tired to call me out on it.

  Class with Professor Theron was exactly as bad as I'd expected.

  He launched immediately into advanced calculations, assuming we all had a "complete foundation in magical combat interactions." He kept referencing what he called "normal interactions" without ever bothering to explain what those actually were, so I spent the entire two hours completely lost, frantically taking notes that I didn't understand.

  By the time class ended, my hand was cramping and my head was pounding.

  I walked slowly through the hallways afterward, grateful I had some time to rest and eat before my private lesson with Emberheart. As I approached the dining hall, I noticed a magical notice board floating prominently above the entrance, shimmering with golden light to draw attention.

  Several students were clustered around it, talking excitedly. I moved closer to read the message.

  ACADEMY-WIDE ANNOUNCEMENT

  First Saturday Event of the Year: The Leadership Challenge

  To all students,

  As many of you know, an expedition into the Corrupted Borderlands has been approved for later this semester. This expedition represents both an invaluable learning opportunity and a dangerous undertaking that will require exceptional leadership.

  Therefore, we are announcing a competition to determine which S-rank student shall lead this expedition.

  Format: Two teams will compete in a series of challenges designed to test leadership, strategy, teamwork, and magical aptitude. Each team will be led by one of our S-rank students.

  Participation: Any student wishing to participate may add their name to this board using the enchanted quill provided. You may indicate your preferred team leader, or you may choose to remain neutral. Students who do not indicate a preference will be assigned to a team based on their abilities and rankings to ensure balanced competition.

  Stakes: The leader of the winning team will command the expedition. All participants will have their performance evaluated and recorded.

  Consider this an opportunity to distinguish yourselves.

  Date: This Saturday, beginning at dawn.

  Final Note: Both participation and observation are encouraged. This is a chance to witness our finest students at their peak, and for those competing, to prove your worth.

  Good luck to all who choose to participate.

  — Academy Administration

  So that was what the rumors had been about this morning.

  The "first Saturday event of the year" meant there would be more. Every Saturday, apparently, the academy organized something. Competitions, challenges, exhibitions. So much for my plans to sleep in and relax on weekends.

  This particular competition was the Prince's chance to lead the expedition. Making it a formal competition allowed the academy to save face if he failed. He could lose and it would be framed as "Aurora was simply better" rather than "the prince was deemed unworthy."

  It was genius, politically speaking.

  And I was actually excited to see how it would unfold. A competition between two S-rank students? That would be incredible to watch.

  How naive I was, assuming I could just observe this one from the sidelines.

  Fate, as always, had other plans.