I Refused To Be Reincarnated

A steely glint of determination flashed in his eyes, and defiance consumed his heart as he walked into his room.

Without wasting a second, he isolated himself in his soul sea, clutching Durgrim's orb and devouring his knowledge with unwavering focus.

'I'll only have one enchanting teacher: him!'

The academy staff disappointed him too much. Unlike Beatrix, who motivated every student with her contagious enthusiasm, the ones here only showed respect after he revealed his talent.

'Hypocrites.'

The more he thought about their snakes' smiles and silvery tongues, the more his determination blazed.

'I don't need to prove my worth to these pompous fools. I'll become the best by myself.'

His jaws and fists clenched as a disdainful smirk twisted his lips. He banished their dismissive faces from his mind and focused on the intricate symbols and theories pulsing in the soul orb.

As he lost himself in centuries-old knowledge, a storm shook the academy's ground unbeknownst to him.

In its center stood Elara. A deep frown creasing her brows, yet her back straight and eyes flashing determination, she knocked on Moira's office door.

"Enter."

The dean's voice resounded as elegant as usual, and her anger evaporated in the flames of Adam's humiliation. After a few brief minutes, she had already dismissed his existence entirely.

However, when she noticed Elara clutching Shepard's arrogant disciple's blade, her eyes narrowed into fiery slits.

"I already assessed his craft."

Tinged with hints of annoyance, her voice echoed in the office.

"There is no need to delve into the matter anymore. Correct, teacher Elara?"

Instead of convincing her with words, Elara swung the blade. Sundered, the air sang a song of sharpness and metal. Then, a muttered word and a flash of azure light erupted from her hand.

BANG

A tier two water projectile crashed on the weapon. Locked in a confrontation for a second, it lost momentum before leaving a clear victor after disappearing.

Without waiting for Moira to speak, she placed the blade on the intricate desk.

"It has three enchantments, making it an epic weapon. You made a monster in the crafting fields to hate every teacher here. Maybe even every dwarf. For what?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her words cut through the wind like sharp arrows. The time for niceties was long gone, and Moira's rank or privilege didn't outweigh her mistake.

Yet, despite the accusation, Moira pushed herself off her seat and glared at her.

"Impossible. You either helped after I left or are making a poor joke."

She shrugged, clasping the sword by its edges. A bright scarlet light erupted from her hand as the metal melted and evaporated.

Amidst the rising wisps of blackened smoke, a chilling smirk stretched across Moira's face.

"A hundred and twenty years," she began, her voice low and dangerous.

She took a menacing step forward, towering over Elara. The air crackled with invisible pressure. The kind only a powerhouse could exert.

"Every crafting method in the world," she continued, each word a hammer blow.

"Not even the archmages can boast a better mastery in the field."

Moira leaned closer, her eyes glinting with icy disdain.

"Yet, you want me to believe a student, after a mere three days of isolation, could craft an epic weapon? An amateurish technique succeeding where countless others have failed? You want me to doubt my own expertise?"

Elara faltered for a second. Her hand trembled, and her throat itched under the arcanist's pressure. Moira's achievements spoke louder than words. Not only hers but her entire lineage was acclaimed as the undisputed number one in enchanting.

Unfortunately, her pride, grounded in skills, veered to blind arrogance. She could see it now through the dean's fiery eyes.

As the pressure threatened to suffocate her trembling frame, Moira's cold whisper engulfed her ears like the insidious murmur of evil ghosts.

"If you understand the gravity of your false accusation, leave. Your salary shall be halved for six months in consequence."

Without glancing at the sweating teacher and uncaring of the terror smearing her face, she sat behind her desk. As if nothing had transpired, she regained her usual composure and read a document with rapt attention.

Meanwhile, Elara's mind almost crumbled.

'Is that how a dean should act?'

For the first time, she questioned the world of arcanists. What would they teach their youths if all ten wielded authority to manipulate truths to their convenience? How to become hypocrites?

Her wobbly legs took her out of the office as she pondered.

'That's not the vision I had when I became a teacher.'

The thought echoed her past dreams of building a better world. One in which nobles walked hand in hand towards progress.

She shook her head, a bitter taste filling her mouth.

Somehow, the academy lost its warmth, becoming a bleak place handled by an icy iron hand in her eyes.

Yet, a glimmer of hope sparkled in her heart.

'The world is vast. I'm sure I'll find someone sharing my dream.'

Determination slowly returned to her brown eyes, sparking a nascent fire that perhaps would become an inferno one day.

***

Meanwhile, Edgar Voldaren's eyes glinted. With a sweeping, firm glance, he gazed at his staff in the eyes.

"I want everything to be perfect in three months!"

His voice pierced the Academy of Summoning office like a spear. No mishap could occur in this year's tournament, especially after Orion negotiated the right to house it like a savage beast.

Even if he won, every arcanist would scrutinise the organisation. Like hawks, they would search for the slightest mistake to denigrate him.

As a proud arcanist, he would never accept the other's scorn, especially from Orion, Shepard, and Moira, whose academies ranked last in the decennial tournament.

He couldn't lose in his own territory, either. The shame would burn his heart. No! He would ensure his students earned first place in the Battle Monster bi-decennial tournament.

His hand itched to his card holder pouch. With a snap, he opened it and retrieved three of them.

"Give them to our three best players. Defeat is not an option!"

He glanced one last time at the three horrifying creatures depicted in their middle. Then, he smirked coldly as he saw their levels.