(Almost) like normal...

* * *

I walk away from the mirror, sitting down on the bed in my dorm. I wonder if the school will do anything different after the attack. 

"System," I mutter, extending my hand outwards.

[System interface.]

[Name: Vajra.]

[Alias: Pierce.]

[Mana type: Fire, Sub-Type Lightning.]

[Mana rank: E+.]

[Titles: Regressor, Prophesied, System Bearer

The window pops up, showing me just my normal status window. I didn't end up saving anyone, but the quest completed anyways... it confuses me. Using more than just 1 of my brain cells, I can assume that there were multiple participants... which means multiple systems.

It's probably just prophesied people that have systems... but how do I find out without exposing myself? If I go by the logic that it's everyone who gives me a weird feeling, then I've already met... an unusual amount of people prophesied.

More importantly, I made most of them quite irritated. I should probably take the time to scan them next we meet. I flip the system to my inventory, withdrawing a manual from the space.

[Lightning Spear Technique: B rank.]

[Mastery: 26%.]

Not bad progress, but could be better. Lightning Spear lets me conjure a construct of my lightning and either throw it or use it manually as an actual spear. I haven't gotten a great chance to test it out yet though, since I'm still hiding most of my ability... not that I'm very strong yet, anyways.

I just prefer to be underestimated... makes fights easier. Channeling my mana, I move it in a spiral shape towards my palm before sending it out of my body. I will it into the shape of a spear, although not quite as refined as it could be.

I just... hold it there a while, seeing how long I can sustain the technique. I'm counting as I go, making sure to keep track and not lose focus. My hand is warm and I can feel my arms nerves lighting up, but I ignore it. Eventually, after maybe 4 minutes, the technique collapses. My arm goes rigid, pins and needles setting off throughout it.

"8 seconds more than last..." I mutter, writing down the number in my notes. My handwriting is neat, oddly so, to a degree some would consider strange.

I cast it again, letting my fingertips slightly char. It's beneficial for my growth, so I don't flinch when doing so. The slight scent of burnt flesh fills my nostrils, but I continue on until the spell fails. I can do this a few more times, but that level would be too dangerous for what growth it provides.

* * *

Arthur Ishviel POV...

Sat on the bed, I'm writing in my journal again. I've found that I occasionally doodle off to the side while I'm writing, a habit I thought I left behind in middle school. I finish writing, standing up from the bed. This morning, I woke up... weirdly early.

I walk out the door, down the hallway and towards the classroom. The halls are quiet today, empty and still. I take a deep breath, looking forward today. I feel an unusual sense of being watched again, but don't acknowledge it or look in its direction.

I open the classroom door, walking in and closing the door. The medium-sized class is a few people smaller than I remember, missing about 3 kids. The thought of where they are hurts me slightly, knowing they likely won't show up.

I take a seat in my chair in the middle, not realizing something funny. Gram didn't have to force me today...

I lean back in the chair, sighing slightly. Variel is already here and to my right, ready for class to start 5 minutes ago. She has her desk all set up, mine as well. Maybe it's just because I'm half elf...

Class eventually starts and Gram hasn't shown up yet. Pridwen is sat to my left, looking downwards most of the time. I look at the door, waiting for Gram to show up. Maybe 30 minutes into class, he finally pops through the door.

He walks up the rows before spotting me, frowning a little. Oh... he probably just stood at my door knocking for the whole time. He wiggles his way past everyone in the row and into his seat, taking it shamefully. He's definitely a little embarrassed.

The class right now is just Literature 1, fairly standard and all. Poetry, poetry, poetry. I suppose having it first kinda subliminally ties poetry and meaning to come first or something... I dunno. I'm not a teacher.

Although the literature in this world is... fascinating. I really undermined the culture and its differences from my original world. Most of the popular books in this world center around peaceful and quaint stories with good morals and low conflicts. Yearning for what a lot of people don't have, I suppose.

"One of the most influential writers of our age, Bert Flowers wrote The Cauldron," The teacher says, picking up a copy of the book. "For anyone who hasn't yet heard of it, The Gauntlet is a story of the town of Saline and its witch hunts."

She drones off for a while, but I'm tuning most of it out. It just sounds like an alternate version of The Crucible... I've always hated The Crucible. Regardless, I have a feeling that I will be forced to read this alternate version of the book later on.

Eventually, I slide through all of my classes and get to physical combat studies. This class has slimmed down a little as well, although not as noticeable since the class is denser. I train with Gram in routine, once again doing badly. Maybe one day I'll win without being underestimated... maybe.

* * *

Back in my dorm again, the daily cycle is repeating. It's been fairly standard since school started I guess... maybe I just adjust to routines really fast. It's maybe 6 PM, getting close to nighttime. I don't have anything in particular that I need to do, however...

I draw my sword from my sheath and begin to channel mana into it, this time intending to go to the mysterious space. I just stand there sending my mana into it a while until a flash of darkness shoots through the room, consuming my vision.

I'm slightly dazed, being thrown about the darkness without a sense of direction for a moment. Admittedly more disorienting than the last time. I'm back in the dark space again, the man appearing before me instantaneously instead of delaying. 

"I did not expect your return to be so soon, young one," He says, looking at me from afar. He hasn't changed in the slightest, as if the time from our firs meeting to now was but a second. "I assume you have consolidated yourself further, correct?"

"Correct," I respond, nodding slightly. I'm wondering if I have enough conviction, but that in itself is doubt. I just need to have faith.

He nods lightly, closing his eyes and tilting his head down. For a moment, I feel seen through despite his eyes being closed. He looks back up again, opening his eyes.

"What is it that you fear?"

* * *