The Academy's south training hall wasn't just massive—it was alive with energy.
Vaulted ceilings arced high above the trio as they entered, glowing softly with enchanted skylights. Platforms hovered lazily overhead, distant targets bobbed in and out of range, and faint glyphs pulsed against the walls—wards layered so thickly even an explosion wouldn't leave a scorch.
Kai let out a long, satisfied breath. "Finally. Space to move without being watched like a hawk."
"Speak for yourself," Aiden said, glancing at a levitating orb in the corner. "There's definitely a monitoring glyph watching us."
Kai waved it off. "Yeah, but it's not judging me."
Ethan trailed behind them, his steps slower, more thoughtful. The moment they stepped inside, he pulled up the system.
It appeared with a soft flicker.
He stared at the list, lips tightening.
Not even impressive ones. No massive teleportation. No lightning chains. No mythical sword conjuration. Just... the basics. The ones he'd clawed into himself through accident and urgency.
And worst of all—there was no instruction. No progression bar. Not even a hint of how this "level" thing worked. It just sat there, mocking him with its emptiness.
In the novels he used to read, systems offered guidance, skills, progression. This one? It was barely a notepad.
He sighed and let the menu vanish.
"So," Kai said, walking toward one of the outer zones, "you guys wanna warm up or just jump into it?"
Ethan shrugged. "You're the one with all the spells, apparently."
Kai grinned and raised a hand. "You're damn right I am."
A flicker of red mana surged through his palm, wrapping around his wrist and shoulder in a quick burst. He balled his fist and struck forward—sending a compressed arc of energy blasting toward a training dummy.
It didn't explode, but it did rattle the stand and send it skidding back.
"Impact Wave," Kai said, clearly proud. "Got it from a combat tutor last week. Short range, but hits hard."
Aiden stepped forward next. With a subtle flick of his wrist and a focused hum, a series of light runes sparked into shape along his palm. They spun for a moment, then launched forward in a curved motion—like a rope made of golden threads—before dissolving into nothing.
"Binding Threads," Aiden said simply. "Useful for stopping people from running away. Or smacking them if you're creative."
Ethan crossed his arms. "You two really came prepared, huh?"
"You've been asleep half the time we're learning," Kai teased.
Ethan didn't argue. He was still learning to use the magic he'd written—knowing it on paper was one thing. Feeling it, living it, shaping it from mana in his core—that was an entirely different game.
Kai spun back toward him. "Alright, what about you? Any cool tricks left you haven't flexed yet?"
Ethan hesitated. "...You saw most of it already. Fireball. Aqua Sphere. The anchoring one. Gale Rend if I don't blow myself up."
Kai whistled. "Damn. And you picked up that Anchoring Step like it was nothing. Lucky."
Ethan paused, considering.
It wasn't luck. Not really.
"I... used something," he said slowly. "A technique. Something I learned the day I got here."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Mana Threading," Ethan said. "It's not a spell. It's a way of moving mana through your body. Cleanly. Controlled. Makes casting more stable."
Aiden folded his arms, intrigued now. "Never heard of it."
"You wouldn't have," Ethan said. "It's obscure. Old. And hard. But if you get it working, it changes everything."
Kai was already nodding. "Alright, alright—teach me."
So Ethan took a breath. Stepped forward. And began.
"It starts here," he said, pressing a palm against his chest. "You don't summon mana. You let it wake up. Just... breathe. Find the center of it."
Kai and Aiden mirrored the motion.
Ethan continued. "Then you guide it. Not all at once. Like pulling thread through your veins. Start at the core, push it gently down your arm, or leg—wherever you need it to go. Don't force it. Don't flood it. Just flow."
They focused. Aiden's expression was calm, meditative. Kai's was more like a kid trying to open a stuck candy jar with sheer willpower.
"Slow down," Ethan said gently. "Think thread, not waterfall."
A few minutes passed like that. Ethan pacing between them, guiding them, offering adjustments.
Then—Kai gasped. "Wait. I think I feel it."
He raised a hand. Mana rippled faintly around his wrist—not blasting, not swirling, just flowing.
Aiden opened one eye. "...I feel it too."
Ethan grinned. "Then test it."
They turned toward one of the smaller platforms hovering a few feet off the ground. A flat disc of stone with nothing around it but air.
And just like that—he didn't fall.
He stood in midair, both feet planted on an invisible surface.
For a moment, both boys stood suspended like statues.
"Holy crap," Kai whispered. "This... this is sick."
And then, of course—he ruined it.
"I got an idea," he said. "Watch this."
"Kai—" Ethan started.
Kai pushed mana down his legs, focused hard, threading it perfectly into place—and then used that flow to reinforce his strength. His muscles tensed, the power surged—
Straight off the platform.
He flew like a cannonball, arms out, laughing—until he slammed shoulder-first into a reinforced wall with a deafening thud.
He hit the ground with a groan. "Ow. Ow. I'm okay. My pride's not, but I'm okay."
Ethan winced. "That was mana reinforcement, wasn't it?"
Kai wheezed from the ground. "Hell yeah it was. New move. Felt the mana thread through my legs so cleanly, it just—launched me."
Aiden was already kneeling beside him. "Stay still. I've got you."
He pressed his hand against Kai's shoulder, and a soft, golden light began to pulse beneath his fingers.
"Light healing?" Ethan asked.
Aiden nodded. "Easier to stabilize when the wound's not deep."
He closed his eyes. Then—softly—began to chant:
"From calm light and woven threads,
mend the break where pain still treads."
The glow brightened. Kai let out a relaxed breath.
"Thanks, mom," he muttered.
Ethan watched the spell, eyes narrowing.
He needed all of this.