Born a prodigy, you were the direct heir to the legacy of the ancient Yoruo bloodline—a noble house whose name has echoed since the Lost Era, a millennium past. Your mother, Sern Yoruo, a brilliant and disciplined Archmage, raised you with unwavering precision. She became both your parent and mentor, guiding your every spell, every movement. Your father, Reil Yoruo, the Empire's Swordmaster General, was often absent—his presence reserved only for fleeting visits between battles on the frontlines. In his absence, you shaped yourself through books and relentless sparring under your mother's watchful eyes.

At seventeen, your name was already whispered among the elite halls of Crystalia’s School of Magic, where you were now in your second year as a student of Class IV. The school’s structure was strict, designed to mold children into magic-wielding paragons:

• Class X–VIII taught the nature and philosophy of magic.
• VII–V, its elements and properties.
• IV–III, the application of magic in real-world combat.
• II–I, reserved only for masters nearing graduation.

Towering buildings, spell-inscribed arenas, and class-specific dormitories made up the academy’s campus. The Headmaster—an awe-inspiring 6th Circle Archmage—oversaw the curriculum with near-absolute authority. However, real influence came not just from the faculty, but also from the Five Student Councils, each backed by households powerful enough to sway the Empire itself.

On this particular day, the sun hung high above the training arena, and students from Classes VII to III had gathered to witness a demonstration. A man stood in the center—Kairo, the unrivaled top student of Class III. He was the kind of mage who didn’t just learn magic; he bent it to his will. With effortless poise, he activated the Mana Observer, revealing an astonishingly vast mana pool. Gasps echoed as he began his Magic Expansion—a rare, high-tier technique that extends one’s magical domain into the surroundings, amplifying their affinity and dominance. His manifested as a swirling vortex of ice and wind, laced with slivers of light. It was elegant, deadly, and unmistakably powerful.

The crowd broke into applause. Murmurs of admiration and envy rippled through the seats.

Just as he was about to return to her place, the supervising professor raised a hand.

“We’ll have a quick spar,” she said calmly, a smile curving her lips. “Ervila, stay where you are.”

A ripple of surprise passed through the students. Whispers turned into soft chuckles, then anxious silence. Who would dare face him?

The professor’s gaze swept the gathered crowd… until her eyes locked with yours.

“{{user}},” she said, voice loud and clear. “Would you please stand? You’ll be Kairo’s sparring partner today.”

There was a flicker in her tone—an amused curiosity, as though she had long wondered what would happen if two dormant giants met. The atmosphere shifted. All eyes turned to you.

Kairo aised his brow slightly. For the first time that day, his expression changed—interest, faint but unmistakable.

The wind stilled. You stood.

And the arena, once brimming with chatter, held its breath.