22 Oz The Chair Rider & The Karmalith

*Screeeetch*

Metis, perched on the bedroom window, screeched non-stop. Her wings fluttered anxiously, and her sharp golden eyes gazed out the window as if she had seen something lurking outside.

Sam, August, and Nathan rushed over, trying to calm Metis, but every time they reached out to her, they were met with sharp pecks and deep scratches from her talons. Her feathers puffed up, making her seem twice her size.

"You stupid bird! I swear, I'll roast you!"

Nathan's high-pitched scream echoed through the room when Metis scratched his hand with her sharp claws, drawing a small line of blood.

"Incendia Orbis!"

Nathan waved his wand recklessly. His frustration took over as he want to turn Metis into a nicely roasted bird.

He figured apologizing to Oz later would be easier than dealing with the chaotic owl now.

*Poof*

"Huh?"

Nathan stood there, bewildered.

His spell fizzled out before even forming properly. No flames, no heat, nothing. He glanced at his wand in confusion, knowing well that his starlight had been used.

*Screeeetch*

Suddenly, a ball of fire materialized above Metis' head, swirling in a violent blaze before hurling itself toward Nathan with terrifying speed.

*Boom*

The fireball exploded on impact, enveloping Nathan in a sudden burst of flames.

Luckily, the fire didn't spread beyond his body, but his once shiny, perfectly styled hair was now singed black and frizzed out in all directions.

"Hot! Hot!"

Nathan screamed, slapping his head with both hands, trying to put out the fire that had engulfed his hair.

"Aww, my hair!"

He whimpered as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His beautiful hair were now reduced to a charred, tangled mess.

*Screeeetch*

Metis' screech echoed again, but this time, it sounded disturbingly like laughter. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, as if enjoying Nathan's torment.

"Looks like that's not an ordinary owl."

August murmured, stepping closer to Metis.

His gaze narrowed as he recalled the owl's strange ability to dispel magic before launching it back at Nathan with even more force.

"Ah, I think Oz doesn't realize he's keeping a karmalith."

Karmalith is a rare magical creature that could shape-shift into almost any animal. They were infamous for their ability to mimic pets like cats, dogs, or foxes to blend in.

But more importantly, karmaliths could absorb and store magic, then release it at their will, making them an anti-magic nightmare for wizards.

They only follow people with extraordinary karma, whether it's good or bad. The higher your karma, the more loyal they are.

But if they sense someone else with higher karma, they'll switch sides without a second thought.

"Oi, how high must Oz's karma be for a karmalith to follow him?"

August's voice trembled slightly, the realization sinking in. What had Oz done to gain the favor of such creature.

"He's always messing with people, pulling pranks and all. Maybe that's where his karma comes from."

Sam said, as he recalled how Oz kept playing pranks on others.

*Creak*

The door creaked open, and the person they were just talking about strolled into the room casually.

"Oz! Look at what Metis did to my hair!"

Nathan complained right away to Oz.

*Screeeetch*

Metis looked up at Oz with a smug expression, as if showing off her successful prank. Her feathers fluffed up in pride.

"… Want me to buy you a wig? Its better than going bald."

Oz said with a smirk, clearly unfazed by the situation. His tone was light, as if Nathan's burnt hair was just another joke in his day.

"Oz, from where did you get that owl?"

Sam pointed at Metis, who was still perched on the bedroom window.

"Oh, Metis? I got her from my darling, Professor Goldilock."

Every time Oz mentioned the headmaster, his eyes lit up, and a wide grin spread across his face, as if he were lost in a daydream.

The moment they heard where Metis came from, the room fell silent. Sam, August, and Nathan exchanged glances.

*Screeeetch* *Screeeetch*

Metis let out another piercing screech, breaking the heavy silence. She hadn't stopped since earlier.

"Metis, what's wrong?"

Oz, now visibly annoyed, raised his head to address the owl. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

*Screeeetch*

Metis turned sharply toward the bed, her wings stretched, pointing to the window, as if she had spotted something dangerous outside.

Oz walked over to the window and looked outside, but the night was pitch black, and the usual glow from the garden lamps was too faint to show anything.

"Verinomus Animaviso!"

Oz whispered the spell under his breath. Now he could see hundreds of glowing verinomus of students in Saturn Dorm. But something stood out, a lone verinomus lurking within the bushes behind the dorm.

—Hmm, who is that?

Oz's brow furrowed. Unfortunately, Verinomus Animaviso wasn't powerful enough to reveal who the verinomus belonged to. All it could do was reveal its location.

"Is there something out there?"

Sam whimpered, his voice trembling as he clutched a pillow to his chest, using it as a shield.

"Hmm, can any of you use magic to see in the dark?"

Oz looked around at his friends, hoping one of them might have a spell for this situation. But Sam, August, and Nathan all shook their heads, looking equally concerned.

"If there's someone suspicious lurking out there, we should report it to the academy."

August suggested, his eyes wide as he squinted into the dark, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever Oz had seen.

"Ah, it already gone."

Oz muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he watched the verinomus disappear, slipping away from the dorm and heading toward the other side of Mistheaven Castle. Whoever it was had moved too far for him to able to see.

"Maybe it's Mothman. Curfew's almost here."

Nathan chimed in, lazily rubbing yet another handful of hair oil onto his scalp. His fingers were slick with the thick substance, and his hair gleamed unnaturally in the dim light.

"Senior, if you pass by a candle, your hair will catch fire. Look, you've already used up an entire bottle of oil."

August said as he look at Nathan's hair with a mix of disgust and amusement.

The bottle of hair oil, once full, now sat empty on the bedside table. Nathan's head glistened with so much oil it looked like his entire scalp had been dunked in a bucket of grease.

"Eww, senior, seriously, go shower. The smell of that oil is suffocating the whole room."

August pinched his nose and leaned away as the thick scent of hair oil filled the room.

*Sniff* *Sniff*

Nathan took a deep breath, finally realizing how pungent the smell was.

"Bleugh!"

Without another word, Nathan bolted from the room, his footsteps echoing as he rushed down the stairs, heading straight for the first-floor bathroom.

"Let's get some sleep. We've got an outdoor class tomorrow."

Oz said, stretching as he flopped onto his bed. He punched his pillow a few times, trying to find a comfortable position.

He looked over at Sam and August, giving them a nod as if to reassure them. He didn't want them to overthink the strange figure he had seen outside the window. Besides, whatever it was, it had left already.

As Oz lay there, he suddenly remembered one of tomorrow's lessons. It involved riding magic brooms, a basic but essential skill in Mistheaven's curriculum. His heart sank as he realized something important.

—Fuck, I haven't bought a broom yet!

Panic flickered through his mind as he thought about how he would manage without one. But then, an idea struck him. He wouldn't need to buy a broom if he could make one himself.

That night, as the others drifted off to sleep, Oz lay awake, his mind racing with plans. He was determined to find a way to craft his own broom by morning.

**********

At the west stadium, where the entrance exams had once been held, hundreds of students gathered, creating an atmosphere thick with excitement and anticipation.

They came from different classes, and each class was further divided into small groups of about 20 students.

Each small group was being taught by a senior who served as a professor's assistant, tasked with guiding the new students through the day's lesson.

"Allow me to introduce myself, juniors."

The senior student leading one group said confidently. Her voice carried easily over the noise of the busy stadium.

"My name is Rosanna, a fifth-year student. Nice to meet you all."

Her smile was bright and warm. The yellow hue on her robe's collar signified she was from the House of Venus.

"You all know what we're going to learn today, right? Come on, shout it loud!"

Rosanna's voice brimmed with energy as she raised her hand.

"Uh... flying brooms..."

The first-year students responded in unison, their voices weak and full of shyness at being in front of their peers.

They were afraid of drawing attention to themselves, yet attention was exactly what they got, just not for the reason they expected.

Many students from other groups turned their heads, not at the volume of their response, but at the sight of something peculiar.

"Oi oi, look at that, a flying chair!"

One of the student whispered, barely able to suppress their laughter.

Of course, the one riding a flying chair was none other than Oz.

While every other student held a standard broomstick, ready for the flying lesson, Oz was sitting comfortably on a wooden chair that hovered a few inches above the ground.

He sat completely relaxed, like he was resting on a beach chair instead of getting ready for a flying class.

"Junior, where's your flying broom?"

Rosanna asked, her cheerful expression giving way to genuine confusion as she eyed the unusual sight.

"Ah, I already turned it into a chair."

Oz replied casually, as if turning a broom into a chair was the most normal thing in the world.

"Sitting on a wooden stick isn't exactly comfortable, you know."

His innocent expression did nothing to hide the mischievous glint in his eyes.

—Seriously, who came up with the idea of sitting on a broomstick? My groin would be killing me after five minutes.

Oz thought to himself, utterly convinced he had made the smartest decision of the day.

He stayed seated on the slightly floating wooden chair, legs crossed and hands resting comfortably on the armrests.

"But junior, we're supposed to be learning how to ride flying brooms."

Rosanna pointed out, her voice tinged with frustration as her earlier cheerfulness began to falter.

"This is a flying broom."

Oz insisted.

"I'm following the academy's definition of a broom. It's legal."

Earlier that morning, before class began, Oz had searched through the school's trash disposal area and discovered several broken brooms that other students had thrown away.

His initial plan had been simple, to use Transmutation Sorcery and turn the broken brooms into new, functional ones. But after reading the academy's handbook, something had caught his eye.

According to the official rules, a flying broom was merely defined as a wooden stick with bristles at the end.

It never said what "shape" the broom had to be, nor how many sticks it could have.

So, with a wicked grin, Oz had decided to push the limits of the definition.

He had transmuted the broken broomsticks into a chair, complete with bristles at the back to fit the specifications.

"Mueheheh."

A low, smug chuckle escaped his lips as he admired his handiwork.

"Hmm, so this is legal?"

Rosanna muttered, her expression troubled as she sent her surveillance bird to contact the academy about the rules on broom designs. She seemed to hope there was some clause Oz had overlooked.

Moments later, the bird returned with the response, and Rosanna's face fell even further.

"Alright," she sighed in defeat.

"The academy accepts this as a flying broom."

Oz could barely contain his excitement.

"Whohooo! Yey! Flying chair!"

He immediately started spinning around in his chair, turning in happy circles as he had just won.

"Uhhh, let's just continue."

Rosanna muttered, clearly done with the whole situation.

As the lesson resumed, she went over the basics of riding a flying broom.

Most of the students were soon able to get their brooms into the air, with only a few struggling.

In no time, the stadium sky was alive with flying students, brooms zipping through the air.

And, of course, one flying chair.

"Whohooo!"

Oz yelled as he performed a tight turn, leaning into the curve with ease.

His movements were more fluid than the others, thanks to the added comfort of sitting in a proper chair rather than ridding a broomstick.

"No more groin pain! Muehehehe."

He giggled to himself, taking great delight in his comfort.

The other students could only look on in confusion, while Rosanna simply shook her head, wondering how she was going to explain this day to her professors.

[Test test test. All students who can already use flying brooms, the academy is now hosting a broom race event.]

From the loudspeakers, an announcement about the latest event echoed across the stadium.

The sky above Mistheaven was clear, but tension hung in the air as students whispered excitedly.

—Oh, a flying broom race event today?

Oz thought, his mind immediately racing ahead to the competition.

[Let me introduce myself. My name is Frona Welse, but just call me Professor Frona.]

A few students in the stands whispered, recognizing the name. Professor Frona was famous for being one of the best flyers in the academy's history, having set a record in broom racing years ago.

*Murmur*

The stadium quickly filled with excited chatter, especially among the male students, their eyes gleaming at the mention of a race.

Boys had a natural love for competition, and the idea of soaring through the air, maneuvering brooms at top speed, was thrilling.

[Around the fifth floor, there are dozens of floating rings, each numbered in sequence. You will race by passing through these rings in order. If you miss a ring, you must go back. The race will finish after 12 laps. The top 100 racers will earn 100 PP!]

"Boss, you'll definitely win this time!"

Tim, Eben's loyal follower, couldn't hide his excitement as he marveled at Eben's new flying broom.

"Of course, the 'SSS-Class Speedstar' is the latest product on the market. Not many can afford it, hahaha."

Eben boasted, holding his broom up for all to see.

The broom's sleek, pitch-black surface shimmered in the sunlight, decorated with lightning symbols. Crafted from 1,000-year-old wood, it was one of the most expensive brooms available, designed for pure speed.

"I need to be the first to finish each lap."

Eben declared, his voice dripping with determination.

"The first position in every lap gets 1 HP. With 12 laps, that's enough to give me a huge edge."

His eyes narrowed as he recalled how much money he had spent preparing for the last event, only for it to be canceled. This time, he wasn't going to waste his efforts.

"Boss, look who it is."

Cratchit whispered, nudging Eben.

Eben followed his gaze and spotted a boy with light brown hair and striking blue eyes.

It was Nichola Nickleby, a misfit. Due to his poor entrance exam scores, he had been placed in the House of Uranus, even though the orrery showed that Uranus was in 4th place.

"Hey, orphan! Get over here!" Eben barked.

Nichola hesitated but ultimately complied, knowing he had little choice.

Being a misfit and a commoner with no powerful connections, he had to survive by doing whatever was asked of him.

"Y-young master Eben. How may I assist you?"

Nichola asked, his voice low and humble, though his dignified features didn't fit the role of an errand boy.

"Massage my back. It's sore from all the flying practice."

Eben commanded, stretching out like he owned the world.

Nichola bit his lip but stepped forward, beginning the task without complaint.

"Me too!"

Tim chimed in, along with a few other students who were always eager to follow Eben. They treated Nichola like a servant, despite his clear discomfort.

From above, Oz watched the scene with a thoughtful look. Something about Nichola seemed familiar. He had seen this boy before.

—Ah! During Oliver's divination… He was there with David!

Oz's eyes sharpened. Could this boy be part of the protagonist's party? Or perhaps, he also a protagonist himself?

Seeing a handsome boy like Nichola being bullied only solidified Oz's suspicions. If he were ugly, fat, or a nerd, it wouldn't mean anything.

[A reminder to gather at the starting line! If you're late, you'll start from the back!]

Professor Frona's voice cut through the noise, and suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. Students rushed to their starting positions, searching for the best spots at the front.

Oz, however, stayed calm, sitting comfortably in his flying chair.

Unlike the others, who stood nervously next to their brooms, Oz's chair floated a few feet off the ground, catching the crowd's curious eyes.

Even though he didn't have the best spot at the start, he wasn't worried.

—This chair is made from eight broomsticks. Wait till they see how crazy the broom version of a V-8 engine can be. Muehehe.

[Three, two, one… Go!]

The sound of hundreds of brooms taking off at once filled the air, like the buzzing of a massive swarm of bees.

The front of the race was dominated by the Nobles, naturally claiming the best positions.

Eben, Estella, Allan, and Avis led the pack. These four were part of the strongest faction in the first year, known for their wealth, connections, and talent.

"Estella, why don't you just give up now?"

Avis taunted, her broom zipping smoothly through the rings.

"I know you're not exactly a master at flying, ohohoho."

Estella, though at the front, was visibly struggling to keep up.

Her broom wobbled occasionally as she struggled to fly through the rings. At one point, she nearly missed a ring.

"Heh, if you have time to mock me, maybe you should focus on improving your own skills, huh? Isn't that right, third place?"

Estella shot back, reminding Avis that she had ranked higher than her in the entrance exams.

Avis flushed with embarrassment, her grip on the broom tightening.

"Tch, you just got lucky. If David hadn't helped you back there, you'd be the one ranking 3rd right now."

Once again, Avis attacked Estella with her sharp words.

Meanwhile, Eben and Allan were fiercely competing for first place.

Eben, with his more powerful broom, kept ramming into Allan's broom, trying to knock him off and make him miss a ring.

"Eben, cheating like that won't help you win a race."

Allan, ever a believer in chivalry, mocked Eben for his unsportsmanlike behavior.

"Hah, save that speech for the commoners. You won't last long in this world with that mindset as a noble."

Eben retorted, his words reflecting the harsh reality of the world. After all, in politics and business, schemes and fraud were nearly impossible to avoid.

There were 40 rings in total in this race. The course stretched across Mistheaven Castle, Kuiper Town, and several forests and lakes.

By now, the four of them had already passed more than 20 rings. They were confident that one of them would win the race, until a flying chair suddenly zipped past them.

"Move! Move! Move!"

*Whoosh*

The sound of rushing wind echoed as the chair zoomed by the four of them.

"Ahhh! I forgot to install a braking system! Kyaaa!"

Oz's scream was drowned out by the sheer speed of the chair as it hurtled through the air.

"Why don't streamers ever talk about brakes when discussing cars and only focus on the number of engine cylinders? Now I know how important brakes are! Kyaaa!"

The four students who had been leading the race fell silent, unable to process the absurdity of what they had just witnessed.

"Um… was that a chair?"

Allan asked Eben, still stunned.

"Yep. That was a chair."

Eben replied, glancing at his high-end broom, which had just been outperformed by a chair. The broom had lost all its pride.

Although Oz couldn't stop his chair, his superhuman reflexes allowed him to avoid colliding with other participants and to stay on course without missing any rings.

"Bleugh, bleugh, bleugh."

Oz's mouth was hanging open, the wind causing his lips to flap as he made strange sounds at such high speeds.

Everyone on the fifth floor was also in shock, staring in disbelief at the flying chair that streaked across the sky like a comet.

By the time Oz had completed 12 laps, the other participants had only finished 6 or 5.

[And the winner of this broom race is… a chair— I mean, Oliver Twist from House of Saturn!]

*Clap* *Clap* *Clap*

The entire audience burst into applause, amazed that a chair could fly so fast.

But after crossing the finish line, Oz still hadn't stopped and continued to zoom ahead.

"Help! How do I stop this thing?!"

Oz spotted a lake and steered his chair towards it.

*Boom*

A loud explosion followed as water shot up into the sky, creating a rain-like downpour as it fell back down.

While Oz had finally managed to stop his chair, he now found himself floating in the middle of the lake.

*Blub* *Blub* *Blub*

—That was terrifying! Next time, I'll make a proper braking system!

As Oz tried to swim to the surface, he noticed something at the bottom of the lake. There appeared to be some sunken buildings.

—Hmm, I'll ask the mystery club about this later.

Though the ruins at the bottom of the lake piqued his interest, Oz prioritized getting to shore first, especially since he had just spotted a catfish the size of a car.

Oz swam as fast as he could, but the fish swam faster. With a single gulp, the fish swallowed Oz whole.

Back at the race, the spectators were growing curious about Oz's whereabouts.

Cheers erupted, celebrating Oz breaking the record. His time was almost twice as fast as the previous record.

Ever since he shattered the record, everyone on the fifth floor started calling him the "Chair Rider." Though it sounded strange, no one dared challenge Oz to another broom race, not even the sixth-year students.

But that day, Oz broke yet another record. He managed to catch the legendary giant catfish, a creature known for its high resistance to magical attacks.

No wizard had been able to capture it for hundreds of years. Of course, after Oz punched it from the inside for an hour, the catfish died from a stomachache. No magic needed.

—Kyaa! I've had enough!