Opening Ceremony

In the bustling theater salon filled with the chatter and excitement of new students, the air was charged with anticipation. The stage, adorned with only an empty lectern, drew curious glances from the audience as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Amid the noise, Miss Sorella made her appearance, her presence commanding attention as she moved gracefully to the lectern. Despite her calm demeanor, the room remained noisy, filled with the excited voices of students.

"SILENCE!" Miss Sorella called out. Her voice, though not raised, resonated powerfully throughout the room, amplified to a startling degree. Instantly, the hall fell quiet, with students hurriedly covering their ears, shocked by the volume of her amplified voice.

Once the room had settled, Miss Sorella nodded to another teacher, who approached and handed her a pot of flowers. "As you may already know, these are alarm flowers," she began, her voice now normal as she handled the pot with evident care to avoid touching the flowers directly.

The students, momentarily distracted by her appearance, refocused their attention as she continued. "Our school is not like the other ones. We don't give problems to you on paper. This will be the last problem that we will talk about before it is presented to you."

The intrigue grew as she nodded again to the teachers, prompting them to seal the doors of the salon. A murmur ran through the crowd as the reality of the situation set in—there was no easy exit.

"We sealed all exits. And I am going to poke these alarm flowers. Mr. Hakki, our new magic teacher, will defend the flowers from getting plucked. Once an alarm flower gets to be poked, it screams at least an hour. Endure it, pluck it, or run. Whatever you can do to stop the flowers, you may choose to endure the sound, it is up to you."

With a serene smile and a pause to ensure everyone understood the gravity of the challenge, she added, "I welcome all of you! Wish you luck!"

With those final words, Miss Sorella poked the alarm flowers. The immediate, deafening scream that erupted from the flowers filled the salon, testing the mettle of every student present. The challenge was clear: they had to either endure the noise, find a way to silence it, or escape the situation somehow, despite the sealed exits. It was a practical demonstration of the school's unconventional approach to education, focusing on direct experience and problem-solving under pressure, setting the tone for what was sure to be an extraordinary academic year.

The chaotic scene in the theater salon escalated rapidly following Miss Sorella's departure. The intense scream of the alarm flowers, now unimpeded by her presence, filled the room to an unbearable degree. Mr. Hakki, the only teacher left behind, positioned himself stoically by the flowers, ready to fulfill his role in this daunting first test for the students.

The students, overwhelmed by the piercing noise, tried various methods to lessen their discomfort. Most clamped their hands over their ears, some opening their mouths wide to mitigate the internal pressure caused by the relentless sound. Amid the confusion, a few earth shamans attempted to escape by tearing down the walls, but their efforts were futile against the reinforced structure of the theater.

Kepyun, unfazed by the physical pain indicated by the blood trickling from his ears, stood up. His determination was clear, his focus sharp amidst the chaos. He approached the stage with a singular purpose, bypassing students who were frantically trying to break the doors or walls in their panic. His actions spoke louder than words could in such a tumult.

Without hesitation, Kepyun launched a direct attack on Mr. Hakki. His punch, fueled by a mix of frustration and the urgency to stop the noise, was a bold move. It was not just an attempt to silence the flowers but a test of Mr. Hakki's defenses and, perhaps, a challenge to the rules that had been so abruptly imposed on them.

This action signaled a shift in the room. Kepyun's direct confrontation with Mr. Hakki drew the attention of the other students, momentarily diverting them from their own struggles with the noise. His willingness to engage directly with the challenge laid down by the school's administration was a critical moment, setting the tone for how he—and potentially his peers—would handle the unforeseen trials that awaited them in this unique educational environment.

The confrontation between Kepyun and Mr. Hakki escalated as the teacher skillfully evaded Kepyun's powerful punch. The force of the punch was such that it twisted the air, a testament to Kepyun's physical prowess. Mr. Hakki, recognizing the potential threat from the young student whose strength had already been demonstrated through the destruction of the door, knew he had to assert his authority as an instructor, despite the shame he felt at possibly being overpowered by a student.

In response, Mr. Hakki conjured and hurled a fireball at Kepyun, an aggressive move designed to test the student's reflexes and perhaps to regain control of the situation. Sakar, witnessing this exchange, was captivated by the sight of the fireball. His fascination was driven by his innate immunity to fire, which led him to fantasize about wielding such power himself, imagining a persona where he could manipulate fire without fear of harm.

Kepyun, however, effortlessly dodged the fireball, sensing that Mr. Hakki might be holding back. Despite the overwhelming noise from the alarm flowers, Kepyun decided to challenge Mr. Hakki verbally, ensuring his words could be understood by articulating slowly enough for his lips to be read. "TEACHER! DON'T GO EASY ON ME!" he shouted across the room.

Understanding Kepyun's challenge, Mr. Hakki acknowledged the request. In a dramatic show of power, his red hair darkened to black, signaling a shift in intensity. Kepyun, fueled by the change, charged at Mr. Hakki again, only to be halted by an invisible force, as if he had slammed into a wall. Confused but undeterred, Kepyun tested this barrier with a punch. Though he met resistance, his punch eventually broke through, indicating that while the barrier was strong, it was not impervious.

This moment marked a critical point in the fight between student and teacher. Mr. Hakki's ability to create such barriers not only demonstrated his magical prowess but also his seriousness in responding to Kepyun's request for a genuine challenge. This encounter was not just about defending the alarm flowers anymore; it had become a significant learning experience for Kepyun, showcasing the complexity and depth of magical combat and defense.

The intense showdown between Kepyun and Mr. Hakki continued to captivate the attention of the other students, who were quickly realizing the depth of the challenge before them. As Kepyun charged forward again after breaching the invisible barrier, Mr. Hakki, demonstrating his control and mastery over magical forces, used a simple gesture—a lowering of his hand—to halt Kepyun's advance. The effect was immediate and profound: Kepyun's fist, ready to strike, dropped helplessly as he succumbed to an overwhelming force that pinned him to the ground.

Struggling under what felt like an immense weight, Kepyun called out in frustration and confusion, "WHAT IS THIS?" The gravity of his situation was literal—a crushing force that immobilized him completely, rendering his muscular strength useless. Mr. Hakki, maintaining his composure and control, did not respond verbally. Instead, he intensified the pressure with a further lowering of his hand, pushing Kepyun down even more. The physical strain was visible on Kepyun; his muscles tensed visibly, veins stood out on his skin, and yet he was unable to lift even an arm.

This demonstration of power was a sobering moment for the other students who were watching. Initially, some had harbored thoughts of banding together to challenge the teacher, believing in the strength of numbers and combined powers. However, seeing Kepyun—a notably strong and capable student—so easily subdued by Mr. Hakki, they quickly discarded any notion of confronting him directly. This realization shifted their strategies.

Rather than continue futile attempts to overpower Mr. Hakki, many students redirected their efforts towards the walls of the salon. They hammered, chiseled, and used their shamanic powers, but with little success. A few observant students noted that while Mr. Hakki defended the alarm flowers and controlled the challenge centrally, he did not actively stop them from trying to break the walls. This observation led to a growing suspicion that perhaps breaking through the walls was not the intended solution to their predicament.

Sakar's strategy on the stage was both daring and clever, as he deftly maneuvered through Mr. Hakki's fiery assaults. He started by making a tactical retreat after initially dodging a fireball, only to set up a greater challenge for himself. Locating a robust-looking individual in the crowd, Sakar pointed out a chair, which the bystander promptly dislodged from the floor, providing Sakar with what would become his makeshift shield.

Returning to the stage with the chair in hand, Sakar was immediately met with an even larger fireball from Mr. Hakki. Despite the increase in size and intensity, Sakar used the chair, now draped with fabric, as a barrier. His aim wasn't just to defend himself but to escalate the situation to provoke Mr. Hakki further.

The calculated madness of Sakar's laugh, visible to all but unheard over the ongoing chaos, indeed pushed Mr. Hakki's limits. The teacher, now visibly agitated, conjured a massive fireball, one so vast it seemed to consume the space around Sakar. Rather than evading, Sakar stood his ground, facing the inferno directly with a manic glee. His audacious plan worked—amidst the engulfing flames, the chair ignited, turning into a blazing torch.

Just as Sakar hit the floor, everything suddenly went quiet. The relentless shrieking of the alarm flowers had stopped. Shock and surprise spread through the crowd as everyone's attention snapped to the stage. Mr. Hakki himself turned, his face showing disbelief, to see what had happened.

The burning chair that Sakar had thrown landed right among the alarm flowers, silencing them. The flames must have destroyed whatever was making the flowers scream so loudly, giving everyone a break from the noise that had been filling the room.

This unexpected quiet changed the whole feel of the room. Students who had been trying all kinds of ways to handle the noise or escape it now found themselves in a sudden calm. Mr. Hakki, caught off guard for a moment, quickly got his act together and looked over the damage, his eyes moving between the burnt flowers and Sakar, who lay on the stage after his daring move.

Stopping the alarm changed everything for a moment. It gave everyone a chance to think about what they had just gone through and see how Sakar's bold plan had paid off. This wasn't just a test of their patience or their skills at solving problems. It was also about thinking outside the box and having the courage to try something different when faced with a tough challenge.

As Mr. Hakki released Kepyun and Sakar, he noticed the scorched remnants of the alarm flowers in their pot, a testament to the chaos of the lesson. Sakar, despite his reservations, approached Mr. Hakki with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"I want to learn how to use a fireball. Where did you find a fire spirit? I heard they are rare," Sakar asked, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and skepticism.

Mr. Hakki, clearing the final remnants of magical energy from his hands, turned to face him. "I use fire magic, not spirits. I am a mage, not a shaman," he explained, his tone patient but firm.

Sakar's interest waned immediately, his face clouding over. "If it is magic, then I no longer want to learn." His voice was flat, reflecting his deep-seated disdain for the art that had caused so much strife in his homeland.

Mr. Hakki wasn't surprised by Sakar's reaction. Given the prolonged conflict between their city-state and the mage-dominated country nearby, he had anticipated such resistance. With a nod of understanding, Mr. Hakki began lifting the magical seals he had placed around the doors of the theater.

"Very well," Mr. Hakki said as he gestured for the students to follow him outside. "It's important to choose our paths based on our values. Remember, magic is a tool, and like all tools, its use is determined by the hands that wield it."

The fresh air outside seemed to diffuse some of the lingering tension. As the students filed out, whispering amongst themselves about the day's dramatic events, Sakar lingered for a moment, his thoughts conflicted. While he had refused the opportunity to learn magic, the power he had witnessed stirred a complex mixture of admiration and fear within him.

Certainly! Here's the improved version of the passage, refined to enhance the narrative flow and engagement in a web novel style:

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Miss Sorella and the other teachers gathered outside the theater salon, their expressions a mix of astonishment and intrigue. They were genuinely surprised that someone had managed to silence the screaming of the flowers. Beside them, Mr. Hakki, looking somewhat sheepish, declared with a hint of humor, "I lost. This guy here managed to outsmart me."

He gestured towards Sakar as he spoke. Traditionally, the test was deemed unsolvable, designed each year to demonstrate the students' initial powerlessness and to teach resilience through endurance of the flowers' screams. Miss Sorella stepped towards Sakar, her gaze flicking between him and Mr. Hakki. "This boy outwitted you?"

"Yes," Mr. Hakki admitted, feeling slightly undermined by her tone, which suggested surprise that Sakar, just a student, could have bested a teacher.

"And how did he manage that?" Miss Sorella asked, her curiosity piqued.

"He cleverly used my fire to burn the flowers," Mr. Hakki explained.

Miss Sorella raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on her lips. "He used my power to enter the school, and now your power to solve the test. Quite the resourceful one, aren't you, Sakar?"

The surrounding teachers exchanged shocked glances. It was almost unheard of for a student to manipulate situations to their advantage under Miss Sorella's watch.

Raising her voice to carry over the crowd, Miss Sorella announced, "ATTENTION, EVERYONE! BE IN FRONT OF THE PRINCIPAL BUILDING IN ONE HOUR!"

She then turned back to her faculty. "We need a meeting in my office," she stated, before disappearing in a blink with her signature teleport.

The teachers hurried off towards the principal building to prepare, leaving the students buzzing with excitement and murmurs about Sakar's unexpected feat.

Sakar, standing amidst his peers, felt the weight of the newfound attention.