“The trick to creating a sharp blade is indeed practice. But magic scholars throughout the decades have experimented, analyzed, and recreated the best mana formations they could find.”

Instructor Entisimo, a middle-aged woman with bulky muscles and short, brown hair, pointed at the board with her stick. Despite her macho looks, she was in charge of providing the students with information. Her round nose shone under the sunlight.

Though no one dared to doze off in her class. It was too risky.

“Turn to page five of your books,” she instructed with a solid voice.

Shaden did as he was told, as well as Mistilia who was sitting next to him. She had first-handedly experienced the chalk throw of the tall Instructor; she dared not disobey.

Inside the book, various drawings were displayed within boxes that filled up the pages. On it were labels similar to ones Shaden would find in a science textbook, such as Figure 1: Stratified Linear or Figure 2: Twirled. While it reminded Shaden of epithelial cells in the human body, the mana was represented as lines and not individual cells or particles. It looked more like a current—a flow of mana rather than an integral structure.

“These are just some of the countless examples of mana patterns that are known today,” said Instructor Entisimo. “Some are better for defense, some for offense. If you keep these patterns in mind as you train, it will be easier for you to form your mana structure.”

A student raised a hand at the front of the room.

“Yes?”

“How is this different from circulating? My Instructor told me that circulating is different for everyone and that there is no set pattern.”

Instructor Entisimo nodded and put her thick, veiny hand on her chin. “Very good question. Circulation happens inside of your body, so it cannot be altered by your will. Only through training or increasing your mana pool will your circulation pattern change. However, things outside of your body can be altered.”

She walked over to the board, picked up a piece of chalk, and began to draw.

“Just as there are numerous types of magic, there are numerous patterns of circulating. For example, this—”

She circled the rows of straight lines that she drew. “—is great for cutting and slashing. You apply it at the edge of your weapon. But this—”

She circled the circular lines that she drew that were compacted together, like the shell of a turtle. “Is suited for the side of your sword. It boosts defense and hardens your weapon.”

The Instructor turned towards the class and placed her thick arms on her hips. “You will be practicing one pattern at a time, so don’t be overconfident. Having numerous patterns of mana simultaneously flowing through your sword is difficult. Everyone got that?”

The class echoed with a small murmur of agreement.

“Good! Now, turn to the next page. The first picture, also known as the ‘Snake’, was first used by…

While the lecture continued, Shaden placed his hands on his sword and gripped it under his desk, sending his mana into it. Studying wasn’t a problem for him. He had already memorized everything during the twenty minutes of class.

The patterns were right in front of him. It would be a shame not to practice.

He began circulating—

Shaden immediately jerked his head to the side as a piece of chalk thudded against the wood behind him.

“Mr. Limen! Pay attention in class.”

Shaden looked back. The piece of chalk had exploded into dust, and its particles were floating in the air. None of its solidness remained.

He turned to the Instructor with a nervous smile on his face. How keen were her senses? He saluted her perception.

“Yes, ma’am!”

〄 〄 〄

Demund thought deeply to himself. Lately, forming mana patterns was what he was focused on within his dream. Some patterns were extremely different from each other, while some were indistinguishable. The book had stated that before the Great Library was founded, everyone had to survive and develop their mana patterns through countless hours of training and exploration. Only after technology developed sufficiently had researchers been able to map out the flow of mana. Demund was glad the book was available to him. He hadn’t had a clue before on what he was supposed to do.

He did have some ideas, comparable to deriving equations from existing ones, but actually receiving the equation directly from an outside source made it much less time-consuming. Unlike circulating, he was picking up on things very quickly. He knew what he had to look out for, and that’s what he developed.

Within the past few months, he had already been able to cut through the wooden pole with extreme accuracy. It had taken some weeks of constant practice, but now cutting through the wood was as easy as cutting through butter. According to Instructor Reedock, the expectation for students was for them to cut through the wood by the end of the year with a blunt sword; however, Shaden was already finished. With the Instructor’s permission, he had moved on to slicing at the enchanted dummies.

Mistilia, though a little slower than Shaden, had quickly caught up. Once she understood the concept of flowing mana through objects, her keen senses had allowed her to form mana patterns with dangerous accuracy. Being able to sense the flow of mana better than the Pure races, beastmen were very skilled at combat—Mistilia was no exception.

During sparring, however, they were prohibited from forming patterns on their swords. Not only was it too dangerous and they too young, but it used up mana very quickly if one wasn’t careful. The key was not to have your mana flowing through your sword at all times, but rather bursting it through only when it was necessary. Therefore, their training had developed from slashing to slashing + putting in mana right before the sword hit the surface of the wood.

Still, the enchantment was tremendously tough. Shaden only managed to make a few cuts into the wood without being able to slice it completely. Everyone was impressed at his feat—even Mistilia couldn’t do it—but Shaden was discontent. He had seen Rother’s slashes once during break time. Deep, solid, smooth cuts on the dummy that completely chopped it apart.

He was six years old though; he would catch up someday. Nothing came easily. Speaking of that—

Demund looked at Rhyne who was furiously solving practice problems while clutching his hair. He was always like this—lazy during normal days and very motivated right before he had a test. It was procrastination and cramming to the max, and Demund—along with his friends—looked at the passionate boy with pity.

“If you studied, you would be able to play with us now,” stated Riley. “Why are you like this. Why.”

“I don’t know! Why am I like this? And hey, Demund. How do you solve this problem?”

Demund smiled and explained the equation to Rhyne like he always did. It was good to see him so motivated, but…

“You sure you don’t want to join?”

“Stop. You’re distracting me.”

Demund held in a laugh and cleared his throat. “Alright, whenever you need me.”

He returned to the game of Dictators he was playing with Riley and Enariss. It was good to relax oneself before a test. Cramming was okay, but since they had reviewed and practiced earlier, they were free to relax a little bit.

“Was he like this during middle school too?” asked Enariss as she threw the dice on the game board. Rolling a three and a four, she moved her figure to the corresponding box and picked up two cards.

“Long story. He used to be at the top of our class during elementary school without ever studying. It was too easy for him…and now, he hates studying.”

“Really?” said Demund while rolling his dice. He cheered internally as he took some money from his friends’ piles.

“Yeah. We had a pretty tough time in middle school. What he’s doing now is still an improvement. Everyone, give me three.”

“Darn it.”

“I have a protect card,” said Enariss. “Sucks to be you, Dem-Dem.”

“Hmph.” These peasants didn’t know what they were in for. Demund covered his evil smile behind his excellent cards. They would all be destroyed next turn. He wanted to laugh out loud but suppressed the desire. Actions spoke louder than words.

〄 〄 〄

“Please! Can you ask the Headmistress if I can go?” begged Mistilia. Her hands were together as if praying earnestly, her puppy eyes sparking at the rugged Instructor.

“Ask her yourself,” replied Instructor Reedock nonchalantly. “Or perhaps she said no already. In which case, I have no say in it.”

“Pleeaase?!”

“I told you kid, I can’t do anything. I’m employed. I don’t control this place.”

“But the Headmistress always seems to listen to you.”

“Because I tell her things she wants to hear, dimwit. Try thinking for a moment.”

“No fair!”

“Shaden, get this persistent girl off of me, please.”

The Instructor’s dark circles seemed to deepen as he turned his face away from the sad girl. Shaden sighed at the view.

“Misty, it’s his free time right now. Let’s get back to swinging.”

“But Shaden! You don’t understand. I was invited to someone’s house, you see? They said I could stay over for the summer since school closed for a little bit. But the Headmistress just says no! She says I’m too young to take care of myself. What does that mean? I’m strong enough. I can swing my sword properly now. This is the first time a friend invited me over, so if I don’t go now, who knows—Gyah! What was that for!"

Mistilia quickly threw away the ice that had formed on her neck.

“You need to cool down. The Headmistress is a wise person. She must have her reasons.”

“You don’t understand. You don’t have friends.”

Normally, this would be a hurtful comment for a child. But Shaden shrugged.

“I have you. And my brother. And plenty of adults. Of course I don’t have friends—everyone is older than me. You really think anyone would like to hang out with a kid?”

“I'm your friend?”

“I guess? No, I’m sure we are friends.” Shaden noticed that Mistilia was going through a change. Ever since she was introduced to peers her age, she had been obsessed with hanging out with them. With the Headmistress’s permission, she was now going to the nearby market almost every day with her new classmates. Shaden went straight home unlike her, so he didn’t know who they were exactly.

“I see. Then can you ask the Headmistress if I can stay over at my friend’s house?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why? You’re my friend, right?”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

Mistilia’s mood visibly dropped with her ears and tail, and she formed a pout in her mouth.

“See? You don’t understand.”

Without saying another word. She gripped her sword tightly and began to swing at the dummy with great force.

“Girl! Control your mana. You’re using too much inefficiently.”

“I know!” grumbled the Mistilia as she continued to swing without changing anything. Instructor Reedock put his hand to his head and closed his eyes.

Why couldn’t he have some normal, obedient students who didn’t break his expectations constantly? He glanced over at Shaden and closed his eyes again.

He had thought Mistilia had been the wild one once.

〄 〄 〄

Instructor Pinec hummed happily as he stuck a poster on the school wall. After nodding in satisfaction, he continued to slide across the hall elegantly, sticking another poster after a decent amount of distance. He couldn’t wait for summer to come.

“Hey Teth! Watcha doing?”

Instructor Pinec looked up from his posters and smiled at the incoming figure. “Instructor Strongon. What brings you here?”

“Ah, you know, the usual. Headmistress called for some additional planning.” The bald, bearded, bulky man glanced at the pile of papers on Teth’s hands. “Diligent as ever, I see.”

“Of course. The students need everything they need, and it is our duty to provide it.”

“Hah!” Instructor Strongon slapped Teth across the shoulder with his muscular arm. “Very good! Very good. I need to learn a thing or two from you. I must go now. Goodbye!”

The large man laughed heartily as he walked away through the hall. His footsteps could be heard from a mile away. It lacked elegance.

Teth undid his smile and continued to stick poster after poster on the walls. They were essential for nurturing students. His excitement rose as he thought about the potentials that some of the students held. Especially that one student.

For the first time, he had thought the Headmistress as foolish for not sharpening such a strong weapon. She was a fool for being afraid.

Even the old wizards had been more open-minded.

〄 〄 〄

“Come on, cheer up.”

“No.”

“Please? I have some good news.”

Silence.

Shaden sighed internally. Mistilia was still upset about her not being able to spend the summer with her friends. It was understandable; she had been stuck here for all of last year and half of this. All she did was hone her skills. Now that she had gotten friends, it was only natural that she would want to do some ‘other’ things that friends did together.

Miraculously, Shaden had found something that could work. He placed the sheet of paper in front of Mistilia’s sad face and dangled it.

“Here. You can read, right?”

Mistilia snatched it away and began to read. Her eyebrows rose in confusion at the words imprinted on the paper.

“Summer Sword Camp?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No!” Shaden raised his hands to himself. “Not at all. Do you even know what a camp is?”

Mistilia shook her head.

Shaden quickly took a seat next to Mistilia on the grass. “Camps are places where you can hang out with your friends all day and all night long. You play games and sing songs and get to know each other better. But in this case, you would practice your skills instead of playing.”

“Together with friends?”

“Yep. Almost everything is done together. If you want to spend time with your friends, tell them to join the camp with you.”

Mistilia’s eyes lit up. “Really? Will that work?”

“Everyone here is a hard worker. They’ll probably say yes.”

Mistilia’s frown slowly transformed into a relieved smile. “That’s good. I’m going to ask them tomorrow.”

Shaden clapped his hands in relief. “Nice! Now, can we go back to practicing?”

With a snort, the wolf girl jumped onto her feet in an instant, simultaneously grabbing her sword off the ground. “Thanks.”

After brushing the dust off of herself, she turned her yellow eyes at Shaden. “You said you’re my friend, right Shaden?”

Shaden nodded. “Yes.”

“If you’re my friend, then you have to come with me to the camp too.”

“Ah…!”