Disaster Strikes the Classroom 2
The princess's affirmation. The lecture hall fell into dead silence. No one dared to open their mouth.
The faces of the students who had been mocking Rian, veins bulging, moments ago, drained white as sheets.
'It's a lie… No way.'
Asrion was the one hit hardest. The princess had vouched for Rian's rank, swearing on the names of mages near-mythical to them: the elf great mage Iril, the professors, even the dean.
'Yeah. Makes no sense.'
Something had to be off. The duke's daughter and the princess must have misunderstood. Great mage Iril probably misheard the commoner's ravings about being 4-Circle and took it at face value. That had to be it. Admitting otherwise was less believable than an orc great mage.
"If you get it, then shut up! I've gauged your levels well enough."
Professor Noerden spoke. With the duke's daughter and princess backing him, he figured even these kids would wise up. Unfortunately, the old man had forgotten how sky-high the pride and impulsiveness of thirteen-year-olds could run.
"Now that I know your levels, let's begin the real lesson. Nothing beats seeing magic's principles with your own eyes. Asrion, the 3-Circle student from earlier—come forward, please."
At the professor's call, Asrion rose confidently from his seat. He basked in the envious stares of the noble students as he strode up to the podium.
"Asrion. To show the others your caliber and for demonstration, could you cast a Sleep spell? Something to put a target under."
Sleep magic. The foundation of mental spells, 2-Circle level. Child's play for a 3-Circle like Asrion.
Asrion nodded with an arrogant smile. "No problem, Professor. Doesn't even need incantation."
Noerden smiled, pleased at the brimming confidence. "Excellent. Proceed."
"But casting into empty air won't prove the effect. May I choose the target myself?"
A polite request—he wanted to pick his victim. Noerden nodded without suspicion. Students testing spells on each other was academy routine.
"Fine by me. Pick whoever and demonstrate."
Asrion's gray eyes flashed sharp. He extended his arm from the podium. His finger pointed to a skinny commoner boy yawning, chin propped lazily on his hand.
To Professor Noerden, a calamity in human form.
"I'll demonstrate on Rian over there."
Asrion's lips twisted up. The blustering liar claiming 4-Circle. He'd ram Sleep down his throat, expose his failure to even mount basic mana defense, and let him flop out cold for all to see. The shameless commoner wouldn't dare show his face in class again.
"What?"
Noerden's face froze solid at the choice. Color fled his cheeks. He hadn't expected the mage tower lord's genius grandson to pull this stunt.
'Has the brat lost his mind?'
Cold sweat trickled down Noerden's spine.
'Of all the blunders! I overestimated the kid!'
But he had no grounds to overrule now—he'd already greenlit free choice. Canceling would trash the room's mood beyond repair and bruise his professorial dignity.
No choice.
'Please, just get through without incident.'
Noerden hoped. "Ahem! Very well. Rian, come to the podium? Defend against mental magic as you see fit."
At the summons, Rian rose slowly, visibly annoyed. "Yaaawn."
He stretched a massive yawn, shuffling down the stairs to the podium. Eyes half-lidded, steps listless. The massive high-grade roast beef from breakfast was digesting at terrifying speed inside him. The flood of calories and protein rebuilt his malnutrition-ravaged muscles, organs, and bones, channeling every ounce of energy into physical recovery. Blood flow to his brain dipped, unleashing crushing post-meal drowsiness and fatigue.
"Ugh, sleepy. Hurry up and finish."
Rian drawled from the podium, truly exhausted. But to Asrion across from him, it rang like supreme arrogance, grinding him down.
'Daring to dismiss me, the era's genius representative?'
Flames of rage lit Asrion's gray eyes. No excuse for a talentless gutter rat to strut under princess and duke's daughter protection.
'Time to make you regret it to your core.'
Asrion clenched his teeth, glaring at Rian as they faced off.
"Prepare yourselves. Everyone else, watch how Asrion channels mana during mental spellcasting."
Noerden instructed the class. "It's beyond you 1-Circles, but glimpsing 2-Circle flows now will pay dividends later."
The students held their breath, eyes locked on Asrion. He lifted his chin, relishing the spotlight to flaunt his prowess.
"Begin."
Noerden signaled.
"Sleep!"
Asrion snapped his fingers without full incantation. Flash!
Mana bloomed from his fingertips. Perfect 2-Circle mental basic—Sleep. The array gleamed smooth and precise, belying his age. True genius craft.
The mana sliced air, sinking dead-center into Rian's brow.
Students gulped, awaiting his crumple.
"Yawn."
Rian just gaped another yawn. His bleary half-shut eyes unchanged. No limp legs, no lolling head—zero signs of enchantment.
"Huh?"
Asrion's brow furrowed. Hit confirmed. Why no collapse?
'Delayed effect?'
He snapped again. Flash!
Second Sleep engulfed Rian. Same result. Rian blinked lazily, staring blankly ahead.
"Done now? Wait, class—polite speech. Can I go up?"
Rian murmured drowsily to Noerden. The polite slip amid exhaustion echoed his past life's schooling.
Noerden nearly nodded, inwardly cheering, ready to gloss over and wrap.
"Not yet!"
Asrion bellowed, veins throbbing. "It's not over!"
He thrust both hands, unleashing dual Sleeps in rapid succession—not true double-cast, but blistering chain. Unbelievable for his age.
Whoosh—mana burrowed relentlessly into Rian's skull.
Still, Rian stood firm. He scowled irritably, muttering. "Sheesh. Nitpicking nothing stuff is boring me sleepier. You're a real sleep aid."
Pure truth from Rian. Drowsy as hell, buzzed by a gnat's nagging.
But that raw honesty shredded Asrion's pride like the ultimate insult. His Sleep less potent than his own ineptitude?
"You bastard…!"
Asrion's face burned crimson with shame and fury. Losing composure, he maxed his mana, spamming Sleep wildly. "Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!"
Pop-pop-pop!
Spells evaporated on contact like mirages. Noerden, closest witness, pierced the truth.
Not defense magic. Pure mana mass disparity.
Asrion was 3-Circle genius. Rian packed 8-Circle great mage reserves. Puddle versus lake. Splashing puddle-water raises no ripples in a lake.
Unless Rian unleashed his mana or stood utterly defenseless, 3-Circle mental spells fizzled.
But Asrion can't sense Rian's mana.
Noerden eyed him pityingly. Rian's closed-loop 4D-circle structure masked him as mana-less norm. Even Noerden missed it without yesterday's firsthand view.
So Asrion couldn't grasp the failure, convinced of dirty tricks.
"Hah… hah…"
Asrion heaved on the podium, sweat dripping thick. Mana scraped bottom from chaining spells. Undeterred, bloodshot eyes bored into Rian as he wrung out more.
"What trick are you pulling?! Fall under the spell! Artifact hidden or what?! What is it?!"
Asrion's enraged roar echoed. Students, seeing spells fizzle, sensed the weirdness. Tension choked the room silent.
"Ugh, seriously."
Then Rian snapped, at wits' end from noise and tedium, scratching his head irritably.
"Too damn loud."
He eyed the panting Asrion through heavy lids, muttering softly.
"Sleep."
A casual toss into the air. But as the word dispersed—
"…!"
Asrion's pupils dilated blankly. Thud-crash!
He pitched forward, face-smashing hardwood in horrific impact. The class rang with the brutal sound.
"…!"
"Gasp!"
Students inhaled sharply. Friction like that could've snapped a nose or chipped teeth. Any normal person would've writhed screaming.
But face-planted Asrion didn't twitch. Instead, steady, peaceful breaths leaked out.
"Huuu… zzz…"
Deep slumber respiration.
"Oh no…!"
Noerden bolted forward in horror. Students who'd jeered Rian gaped, frozen statues.
Checking the fallen Asrion, Noerden's eyes bulged.
"Zzz…"
Despite facial trauma, consciousness drowned in profound sleep. Far beyond standard 2-Circle—absolute forced slumber, curse-like, unbreakable without caster's release.
"Rian! What did you do?!"
Noerden demanded, voice quavering.
Rian scratched his nose nonchalantly. "Put him to sleep for a bit. He was so damn noisy."
Noerden's lips twitched at the casual reply. Chantless, waveless mental magic of insane potency.
"Release the spell now!"
Truthfully, even Noerden needed effort to dispel. But the caster could snap it instantly.
"Eh, too bothersome."
Rian yawned hugely. "Just let him sleep it off for thirty days or so."
"No, people die sleeping thirty days!"