Re:Zero: The Path of Pride

We took a left off the main road, slipping once more into a quieter stretch of the capital. The clamor of shouting merchants and clattering wheels softened behind us, replaced by the gentler rhythm of a different sort of street.

The Stone Row, that's what Reinhard called it. A narrow avenue tucked between merchant blocks, where silversmiths and craftsmen set up stalls beneath bright canopies. The ground was cobbled tighter here, footsteps crisp. Hanging signs rattled in the breeze, and bits of metallic clinking echoed like wind chimes.

On one side, a man with soot on his apron was delicately threading fine silver chains through a lattice of tiny gemstone clasps. On the other, a woman hammered out the grooves of an ornamental dagger, jewelry, not combat, but the craft was meticulous.

There was no shouting on this street. Just quiet haggling. The occasional "hm" or "you've got an eye for detail." Most of the crowd here wore tailored coats and carefully maintained boots.

Thankfully, the outfit that Reinhard gave me left me feeling pretty confident when comparing the rather luxurious outfits of others to what I wore. 

Walking towards the end of the row, I noticed that one of the shops on the left had an interesting sign, "Stones of Glint – Magic Crystals Here! Half off on Time Crystals!" 

Lame name. 

But the word magic? That grabbed me.

I'd heard the term tossed around a few times, but never with much explanation. No structure. No rules. No one had sat me down and gone, "Here's how to not accidentally get exploded by a spell."

Did people here really throw fireballs? Were there schools? Could someone just… vaporize a village if they got upset?

I glanced at Reinhard, chewing that thought over.

"Hey, Rein," I said, nodding toward the shop, "I've noticed the word magic floating around a lot."

I gestured vaguely toward the sign.

"How common is that? Like, can people just launch fireballs? Blow up cities with a spell? 'Cause honestly that sounds horrifying, and I'd kinda prefer to know now rather than when I'm being cratered."

Reinhard followed my gesture, his eyes flicking to the sign before offering a faint smile.

"The ability to use magic is relatively uncommon, though not exactly rare. But it's rarely as dramatic as you described. The level of skill required to cause that kind of destruction is extremely high… and highly unlikely."

I raised a brow. "So fireballs are on the table?"

"They exist," he said, amused. "Though throwing one is more complicated than it sounds. Magic here is shaped by three main factors: your gate, your attribute, and your training."

He ticked them off on his fingers as we walked.

"Your gate is what lets you circulate mana. Everyone has one, it's almost like an organ, though not visible, and it regulates how much mana you can use, and how often."

"Like a battery?"

Reinhard blinked. "...I don't know what that is."

I waved it off. "Never mind. What would you call it?"

He thought for a moment. "Here, we think of it more like a filter; it regulates the flow. Some people are born with their gate fully open. Others only partially, which makes using magic difficult, if not impossible. And if overused, it can strain the body. Damage it badly enough… and it might never recover."

"Yikes. Alright. Noted."

He nodded at me, then continued, "Next is your attribute, the type of magic you're attuned to. Most people have one affinity, sometimes two. Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth are the most common."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"The last two, Yin and Yang, are much rarer. And harder to master. Yin governs illusions — affecting the senses, draining physical stamina, and in its most advanced forms, even manipulating time and space. Yang, meanwhile, imparts energy into objects or people — either to empower them or to incinerate them. They're rare enough that most people don't fully understand their limits."

I gave a low whistle. "Got it. So if someone shows up flinging both, they're either blessed... or bullshitting."

Reinhard gave a faint chuckle. "Perhaps."

"Right. Last one?"

"Training," he said. "Even with a good gate and a strong attribute, magic isn't something you can force. It takes discipline. Chanting, control, refined intent. A miscast spell can backfire."

I nodded slowly, absorbing all that as we passed a shop with a floating candle spinning lazily above the doorway.

"Right," I said, "so it's not just raw power. There's structure. Control. Rules."

"Exactly."

I exhaled through my nose. "Good. That's good."

Reinhard tilted his head slightly. "You sound relieved."

"I mean…" I glanced around. "I was half-worried this was one of those worlds where it was really easy for some guy with spiky hair and childhood trauma to just monologue for three minutes and erase a village with one move."

He looked confused.

"Never mind," I added quickly, grinning. "Just… thanks for confirming I probably won't be randomly vaporized by some guy with a slightly sad backstory."

Reinhard let out a soft chuckle.

We walked a little further in companionable silence. My eyes drifted back to the magic shop's sign, still swinging gently in the breeze.

Magic crystals. Time stones. Fireballs. Gates. Attributes. Rare attributes.

Then the obvious question hit me.

"So…" I said slowly, "how do I check mine?"

"Your attribute?" Reinhard asked.

"Both," I clarified. "If there's a chance my gate can't even use magic, I kinda need to know that first. And if I can use magic, then I'd need to figure out which attribute I actually mesh with, right?"

He smiled. "Yes, there are ways to test both. Mage guilds and registered examiners in the capital can identify your natural affinity and assess your gate's condition. It's painless, just a bit unusual the first time."

I raised a brow. "Unusual how?"

He looked forward. "Since this would be the first time you actually touched upon your gate, it might feel a little... uncomfortable. Like flexing a muscle you didn't know you had. I've read the sensation passes quickly."

I blinked. "Right. Cool. So magic's less 'divine revelation,' more 'phantom ab workout.'"

Reinhard let out a quiet laugh. "That's one way to put it."

The thought of activating my gate and finding out what magic I could use made me feel like a kid walking through a toy store with a golden ticket. Pick any spell, any element, go wild. I was practically bouncing in my own skull.

But the excitement cooled just as fast as it came.

I ran the situation through logically. The whole process of getting my gate and element affinity checked, especially by someone trustworthy in the Magic District, sounded like the kind of thing that came with a price tag, and not a small one.

And unfortunately, I was broke. Like, cartoon hobo broke.

All I had to my name was my phone and that legendary twelve-pack of Dr. Pepsi sitting in my guest room. Everything else, literally everything, had been thanks to Reinhard's generosity.

And that realization hit like a brick to the chest.

A wave of guilt washed over me, pulling down any lingering excitement with it. I didn't even have a coin to spare, and I was out here living like I'd been invited to the royal spa package.

Reinhard had been footing the bill for everything: my room, the meals, the clothes I was wearing, hell, even the fucking little snack we just had at that café a little over an hour ago. All of it.

What the hell was I contributing in this relationship? My stupid banter? Stories and concepts from my world? The occasional half-decent observation?

'I can't just keep taking and taking from him, it isn't fair.' 

Reinhard slowed beside me. I hadn't realized I'd been walking a little quieter, a little heavier, until I felt his eyes on me.

"Something's on your mind," he said softly.

It wasn't a question.

I hesitated, staring at the curve of the cobbled path ahead. The hum of conversation whispering past my ears and warm wind caressing my face.

I felt like a freeloader with cool hair.

"I was just thinking," I said, trying to keep it casual. "About the magic test. How that's probably… expensive."

Reinhard didn't respond right away. He let the silence settle for a moment before answering, calm and careful.

"Not really. But that's not what's bothering you." 

Of course, he saw through it.

I sighed, shoving my hands deeper into my coat pockets. "I'm just realizing I've been coasting this whole time. You've taken care of everything since I got here. And I've just been… existing. Eating your food. Sleeping in your house. Wearing your crest."

He opened his mouth, but I raised a hand to stop him.

"I know you don't mind. That's the problem. You're too nice to say anything. But it doesn't sit right with me, man. I don't want to just be some tagalong you have to keep feeding. I wanna pull my own weight."

Reinhard was quiet again.

Then he said, with the gentlest conviction I've ever heard:

"You're not a burden, Ethan. You're my friend."

That made me go still for a second.

He continued, "And you haven't just taken. You've given me something too. Something I don't often get."

I looked over, eyebrows raised. "What's that?"

He smiled faintly.

"Someone who talks to me like a person."

That hit me in the feels.

He didn't say anything more after that, just turned his gaze ahead. Gave me space to sit with it.

Eventually, I broke the silence again.

"Still… I wanna earn my keep. Maybe not all at once, but something, hey, maybe I could think up some inventions from my old world."

My eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

The idea had real merit.

'I mean… I have Reason and Judgment now, right? Holy shit. I need to check this.'

Click.

The world ground to a halt.

In my mind's eye, hundreds of thousands of motes of light spiraled through the frozen space ahead of me. Each one a memory. I focused on one, and it sharpened into a familiar image: me, back in my room, slouched in my chair, watching videos play out on my monitor.

'Just one of a thousand identical days of me scrolling through the internet, huh?'

The screen lit up with a "How It's Made" episode. Jelly beans.

'Disgusting candies. Why the hell did I watch this shit?'

I skipped it. I refused to unleash those abominations upon this world.

Memory by memory, I sifted through the clutter.

Most of what I found was… underwhelming. Modern inventions weren't made by a single person with a dream. They were the result of factories, assembly lines, automation, and a thousand moving parts I never paid attention to.

Even the most basic objects relied on resources I couldn't name and chemicals I couldn't reproduce.

Worse, most of those casual YouTube explainers weren't exactly rich in detail. I hadn't taken notes. I hadn't memorized schematics. I'd watched for the aesthetic. The vibes. The satisfying videos of watching millions of peanuts being turned into peanut butter.

'And I sure as hell hadn't fallen down the Wikipedia rabbit hole for every single process known to man.'

Time resumed its flow, and I continued walking alongside Reinhard. 

Reinventing some of the ideas from my world here was going to take a little more time and money than I had right now. 

"I guess that'll have to wait," I muttered in disappointment, mostly to myself.

Reinhard tilted his head. "The inventions?"

"The everything," I said, shrugging. "I wanted to find some genius way to contribute, y'know? Something cool. Useful. Prove I'm not just dead weight."

He stopped walking, and so did I.

"I didn't bring you here because I needed you to prove anything," he said.

I met his eyes. He wasn't scolding me. Just… stating fact.

"You're not a burden. You're not freeloading. You're figuring things out in a world you didn't ask to be thrown into. That takes time. And if I can make that easier?" His smile was soft. "Then I will."

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again.

"Rein… I appreciate that. I do. But I want to be useful. I don't want to just take and take—"

"Then don't think of it as taking," he said, gently cutting me off. "Think of it as investing. I believe in you. So let me help you get on your feet. That's all."

He stepped ahead before I could think of a response, then glanced back and tilted his head with that usual easy grace.

"Come on. We've still got enough time to get your gate and elements checked."

He said it so casually, like none of this mattered. Like, whatever it cost him wasn't even worth considering.

'This guy is just too damn nice, man... fuck. No way I start crying.'

It was right then, quietly, firmly, that I swore a second oath.

Not just the one about becoming a knight, standing by his side in battle, and keeping people safe.

But this one too:

I would pay him back for everything.

For the kindness.

For the trust.

For the second chance he gave me, with no demands and no conditions.

Even if it took the rest of my life.

—

Pushing my stride a little harder, I caught up with Reinhard as we turned out of Stone Row, heading toward wherever the magic district of the capital was.

The air between us felt... awkward. Or at least, it did to me. Clearly, not to him.

Because as we rounded the corner onto a slightly more crowded street, Rein just turned his head, calm as ever, and offered me that same warm, easy smile.

What else could I do but return one of my own?

We continued through the capital as the sun climbed high overhead, beating down with the full weight of midday. I'd fully expected to be sweating buckets, after all, I was wearing a long coat over a black shirt. Not exactly the ideal outfit for wandering a massive city in what definitely felt like midsummer.

And yet… I wasn't miserable.

Warm, sure. But not melting. Not drenched. Not silently questioning every life choice that led me to this moment.

If anything, I felt like I was being passively cooled somehow.

'Magic? Enchantments? I still know almost nothing…'

That thought cracked open the floodgates again, and I decided to bombard Rein with my curiosity.

What could you do with the basics of each attribute of magic?

What kind of accent did that fruit vendor have?

What's a decent gate size, and what's the average?

I probably rattled off thirty questions by the time we reached the Magic District. Normally, I wasn't this outwardly inquisitive, but I could tell Reinhard was enjoying it. He never looked annoyed; in fact, his smile only grew the more I asked.

Just as I was reorganizing my thoughts to ask another question on how the different strengths of spells changed simply by adding a different prefix before the original incantation—

'Oh, and whether you really have to fucking chant or speak to cast magic in the first place, sounds kinda lame.'

—I suddenly stopped.

Not because Reinhard himself had also stopped.

But because my eyes finally caught sight of it.

The threshold.

We stood at the mouth of what could only be described as an intentional divide, not a gate, but a transition sculpted into the bones of the city itself. The street ahead narrowed between two rising blackstone columns, flanking a single arched bridge that curved gently over a dry-stone channel.

Reinhard stepped forward beside me and spoke softly, "This is the official boundary of the Magic District."

He didn't gesture grandly, and didn't perform a short monologue; he let the sight speak for itself, and it did. 

This place gave off a much different atmosphere from the city I was standing in, and I hadn't even walked across the bridge yet.

After I stopped staring like a wide-eyed tourist, we moved on, wherever our destination was within this strange little city tucked inside the capital.

The bridge itself wasn't long, just a slight arch over a small dry stone channel that you could have jumped, but the moment we stepped across…

I noticed it.

The air shifted, cooler, cleaner. And somehow, the sunlight dimmed slightly, as if the district had its own shade.

Stepping into the district proper, I immediately noted that the flagstones used on the roads were sharper and grey, which seemed to be the common theme tying this place together, among other traits.

The buildings were taller, not in height, but in posture. Their silhouettes were darker, sharper—gray slate and black-brick masonry replacing the cream-colored stone of the outer capital. Windows sat deeper into walls, most of them barred; it was the type of design used to keep people out. This place wasn't just more refined. It was more valuable.

The lamps lining the streets were taller, glass-domed, with bright blue crystals within them; their designs looked more advanced than the lamps outside the district and were placed much more frequently down these streets.

Then came the people.

The difference in fashion was immediate. Outside the district, people wore whatever, armor, tunics, dresses, cloaks, and the occasional noble in tailored suits.

Here? Robes reigned supreme.

Clothed almost exclusively in layered robes, dark, worn, personalized. Some carried thick scroll cases, others clasped worn tomes, and more than one moved with a hand hovering near their satchel, as if thoughts might fly free and need to be caught mid-air.

A few scribbled while walking.

A few muttered to themselves.

The district gave off the feeling that it was almost like a giant library that just happened to be outdoors.

It was quieter here.

Gone were the crowds and shouting merchants.

No stalls. No carts. No screaming over prices.

Instead, real storefronts lined the streets, stone and wood buildings with modest signs carved above the doorways. I passed places advertising enchanted tailoring, rare fruit imbued with elemental properties, secondhand spellbooks, potion shops, and charm forgers.

Each one looked permanent. Disciplined.

Like they had been there for decades and would be there for decades more.

Further down the avenue, far deeper into the district at what seemed to be the center of it, stood a Time Tower, tall and proud. Its sharper silhouette and darker stonework contrasted heavily with its lighter, shorter brother on the other side of the capital.

That had been a surprise when I first learned about it, those weird crystals I'd seen back at the café or in some rooms of the Astrea estate? Yeah, turns out those were Time Crystals. Their glow wasn't just for show; they were this world's answer to clocks. No gears, no ticking hands, just a magical countdown tuned to the planet's flow. Cruder, but easier to distribute. Cheap enough for businesses. Advanced enough for nobles.

I brushed the curiosity aside and tried to refocus. There'd be time to ask questions later.

Right now, we were here for a reason: getting my gate and magical aptitude checked.

It looked like our destination lay just beyond the Time Tower, as Reinhard led me further down the avenue, weaving us through a loose crowd of what I could only describe as scholars. Robes, scrolls, muttering. The works.

I glanced over at Reinhard. He'd been quiet since we entered the district, content to let me gawk around like a tourist. When he caught me looking, he offered a soft smile, patient as ever.

I turned my gaze back ahead.

"So, where do we go exactly?" I asked, gesturing vaguely at the sea of storefronts. "You got a spot in mind?"

"Indeed," he said with calm confidence. "The Academy. It's just ahead, past the Time Tower."

He pointed forward, and sure enough, now that we were nearing the tower, I could see the outline of something massive in the distance. A low, looming complex tucked behind trees and black wrought fencing.

As we kept walking, I tried to get more specifics.

"So how's this gonna go? We just walk in with no appointment and no ID, and ask them to… what, gaze into my soul?"

Reinhard gave a quiet chuckle.

"There's no need for an appointment. Dozens of aspiring mages come in every day to have their aptitude tested. And as for identification—" he offered a small tilt of his head—"you have me."

That was reassuring, and I couldn't help chuckling at the sheer confidence. Reinhard saying "you have me" had the same energy as a royal seal. I could've walked into a war tribunal, and they'd still ask if I wanted tea.

Continuing forward, the Time Tower plaza opened up around us, wide and serene, like a magical garden plucked from a fairy tale. The usual stone gave way to softer walking paths and low-set benches, nestled among beds of almost-glowing flowers. Towering trees anchored each corner of the plaza, their leaves fanned out like giant parasols. Gazebos dotted the space here and there, most of them occupied by quiet mages scribbling notes or sipping on something under the shade.

Though, to be fair, this whole district was so well-shaded already that the gazebos almost felt like overkill.

The farther in we walked, the quieter the world became. Nobody here spoke above a whisper. If I sat down, I was pretty sure I'd fall asleep on the spot. There was a stillness in the air, a peacefulness so deep it could put even an insomniac out cold.

Eventually, the path led us through the plaza, where the avenue opened once more onto a sharp stretch of blackstone road.

And then we reached it.

If I had to describe the Academy in one word?

Massive.

What I'd seen earlier from behind the Time Tower was just the front. Now that we were approaching the entrance proper, the true scale of the place came into view, and it was staggering. Multiple wings stretched back from a central hall, and the entire complex looked like it took up a full third of the Magic District with how it sprawled.

The fence surrounding it was tall and gothic, black steel, sleek and cold-looking, like it was built to contain something more than just people.

We approached a large, open gateway. No guards. No doors. Just an arch wide enough to let a small carriage through. From the other side, robed figures came and went, mingled with a few people dressed more like the citizens from the outer capital.

I stopped in my tracks for a second, blinking at the sheer scale of the Academy. 

Reinhard, of course, hadn't slowed in the slightest. I caught back up with little effort; there was no chance I'd get left behind, but still, I wasn't exactly eager to test that theory.

We slipped through the open archway together, joining a stream of students, robed instructors, and the occasional citizen who looked just as out of place as I probably did. The interior stretched into a wide reception hall, ceiling high and ribbed with beams of dark wood, polished so smooth they looked like glass. Everything here was sharp lines, clean tile, and quiet purpose. Even the acoustics seemed… managed, like some subtle spell was muting the noise to just a civilized hush, or maybe the people here were just respectful.

Several reception lines had formed ahead, each one guided by long wooden desks manned by workers dressed in sleek, rune-trimmed vests. People shuffled forward at a steady pace while the receptionists moved with surgical precision, filtering applicants and inquiries with well-practiced speed.

Reinhard and I took our place in one of the middle queues.

It was halfway up the line when I noticed it.

The receptionist, blonde, businesslike, ears twitching, looked up to address the sixth person in line. Her tone was flat, professional. Standard script stuff.

Then her gaze flicked past him. Past the next five.

And landed directly on Reinhard.

Her posture straightened like a bolt had hit her spine. Her voice stalled mid-sentence. Her golden eyes widened.

The ears on her head, tan and neatly furred, twitched twice.

A demi-human. Part cat, if I had to guess. Her uniform was flawless, and her expression instantly switched from half-bored to wide-awake.

She wasted no time flagging down someone who looked more important, a man who waddled over with the sort of gravitas that only came from being too rich to move quickly.

He was… large.

Morbidly large.

The kind of large where his robes didn't flow so much as they clung on for dear life. Rings adorned each of his sausage-like fingers, and a gleaming amethyst pendant hung from a chain buried somewhere under three chins.

His voice?

Like syrup sliding over gravel.

His black beady eyes flickered between me and Rein, but upon seeing the red hair, he clearly decided who deserved more attention.

The… thing, grinned large, "Ahh! Sir Reinhard van Astrea, it is truly an honor, no, a privilege, to have the Sword Saint gracing our humble institution today. If we'd only known, we might have prepared a more appropriate reception. Red carpet, fanfare, a small choir perhaps, ha ha!"

'Really laying it on thick there, eh?'

I tried not to giggle at my own stupid jab while the man's second and third chins fought.

Reinhard offered a small, graceful nod.

"No need. We're only here for a standard gate and attribute test."

The man practically waved that away with a pudgy hand, continuing without pause.

"But of course! Of course. Even a humble test becomes a grand affair in the presence of your excellence. Ah, but where are my manners?"

He gave a bow, not deep, obviously, but enough to make his robes shift like a collapsing tarp.

"Magister Uldren Vexley," he said, puffing his chest proudly. "Administrator of Receptional Affairs, Head of Public Registry, and, if memory serves, we were both in attendance at Duke Karsten's winter gathering five years ago, were we not?"

Reinhard tilted his head slightly and paused for a second..

"I don't believe I attended that particular gathering," Reinhard finally said with his usual calm.

"Ah, of course, of course," Vexley chuckled, waving it off like a bad hand of cards. "I must be thinking of another occasion, no doubt! It happens."

Rein's expression didn't change, but something about the way he paused made me wonder if he was actually searching his memory… or just giving the guy a chance to backpedal.

Magister Vexley, still basking in the sound of his own voice, turned with the grace of a rolling boulder and gestured down one of the branching corridors.

"Right this way, Sir Reinhard. I shall escort you myself, an honor, of course, and a duty I would never dream of delegating."

Then he began to move. 

Well, "move" might be generous. He lumped his way down the hall like every step was a negotiation with physics. Reinhard followed smoothly, unbothered. I trailed after them both, caught between secondhand embarrassment and veiled curiosity.

This structure felt like the orientation sections of the Academy. We passed wide classrooms and small auditoriums, some open to reveal glowing diagrams or strange magical displays. 

Paintings lined the corridor, elegant, commissioned work showing the four basic magical elements in grand over-the-top depictions. Fire erupting from hands and creating massive firestorms, water mending entire battalions of soldiers on a battlefield, or forming massive glacial spears, earth rising in grandiose shield walls, and wind ripping a forest apart. 

I got a good look at everything.

Partly because I was genuinely curious.

Mostly because Vexley walked like a man wearing lead boots.

He kept talking the whole time. Sorry, Rein, I tuned out after the fourth "as you no doubt recall" and started imagining this guy getting winded tying his shoes.

'Seriously, how the hell is this guy a manager here? Is this one of those cliché noble appointments? He looks like he's one surprise sneeze away from a heart attack.'

Finally, we turned right into a narrower hall, plain walls, numbered doors, no decoration. Just clean, whitewashed stone and quiet.

We stopped in front of Room 4, the plaque labeled with all the creativity of a brick.

Vexley, still mid-ramble, reached for the handle.

"—and I told Lady Meralith, if she wished to summon a rainstorm indoors, she ought to at least have the foresight to reinforce the flooring enchantments first—ha! Can you imagine? Nearly drowned three first-years and ruined half the scroll archive."

My heart beat harder.

This was it. This was the door.

Behind it could be a glowing ritual circle. A magic scanning array. Some gleaming contraption that would unlock my soul's inner nature.

Instead, Vexley pushed the door open...

And revealed a room with a chair.

Just one.

Not a ritual chair. Not a machine chair. Just… a really nice chair.

The kind of chair you'd find in Reinhard's house. Elegant. Hand-crafted. Cushioned. But still just that.

A chair.

Reinhard and I stepped inside while Vexley waddled off to fetch whoever actually knew how to do the testing.

I glanced around the room, trying to spot any magical clues, runes, orbs, or scrolls. Anything to give me a hint of what was coming.

Nothing.

No tubes. No lights. No whirring devices or carved inscriptions.

I triggered Reason and Judgement, but all it gave me was confirmation that the chair hadn't been used before, fresh wood, untouched cushion, zero wear. Brand new. 

'Kind of a letdown, not gonna lie.'

Still... maybe that was for the best.

I turned to face Reinhard, who had taken up a spot against the wall near the corner of the room. He looked relaxed, arms folded, gaze calm. I gave him an awkward smile.

"Man, that guy sure had a lot to say, huh?"

Reinhard returned the look with a patient smile.

"He was quite the verbose Magister. His talents must stem from his position overseeing reception at the Academy."

'Right… talents. Reception. Truly a lofty position'.

I smirked, then glanced back toward the chair.

I gestured to it silently. It seemed pretty obvious I was meant to sit there, but this was a new world, and I'd learned not to assume anything.

Reinhard gave me a small, confident nod.

With that, I sat down.

It only took a minute before the door knocked twice.

The man who entered wore the same robe style I was starting to recognize across the district, gray with gold-lined sleeves, crisp and well-maintained. He had a clean-shaven face, sharply parted green hair, and the demeanor of someone who took professionalism as seriously as breathing.

His hands stayed folded behind his back as he stepped inside and gave a short, respectful bow.

"This is for a standard attribute evaluation, correct?"

Reinhard nodded. I followed quickly.

"Yes. My friend Ethan hasn't used his gate before, and we'd like to know his attribute alignment and whether he's suited to magic at all."

The man nodded once, then turned his attention to me. His tone was polite, but clinical.

"I will place my hand on your forehead. There will be no pain."

I swallowed and gave a shallow nod.

Here it was, either I had something… or I didn't.

He stepped forward, pressed a gloved hand lightly against my forehead.

I closed my eyes.

Focused.

Tried to feel something. Heat, vibration, light, anything.

But all I felt was the warmth of his glove.

A few seconds passed. Then he stepped back.

"Rather impressive, Mr. Ethan," he said. "You show strong compatibility with both Fire and Yang attributes."

My eyes opened.

Wait what?

His gaze narrowed slightly, and he gave a brief hum of consideration.

"Your gate is also well-developed. You may not have used it consciously, but it's healthy, stable, and capable of sustained casting in the future. With proper training, you will be more than capable as a mage."

He gave a polite half-bow toward Reinhard.

"If that concludes your business, I'll take my leave. The Magister of reception has arranged to cover your registration—" his tone remained neutral, but there was the slightest lilt of amusement— "for reasons I'm sure you can guess."

Reinhard gave a warm nod in return. "Thank you."

The man stepped out without another word.

And then I exploded.

I shot up from the chair and turned to Reinhard like someone had hit me with a bolt of lightning.

"Professional, right!? Like, insanely professional. But more importantly, I have magic! Holy shit, Rein, you heard that, right!? He said I had good potential! Like, not just a spark, but actual potential! And Fire AND Yang! Yang's one of the rare ones, right!?"

Reinhard pushed off the wall with a quiet smile, his posture as relaxed as ever, like this was all going exactly as he'd expected.

"I did hear," he said gently. "And I think the entire Academy probably did, too."

I blinked.

Then winced.

"...Too loud?"

He chuckled softly. "Not at all. This was something worth celebrating."

He stepped closer and rested a hand briefly on my shoulder, just long enough to ground me, not enough to feel heavy.

"Fire and Yang are a powerful pairing. Rare, too. You should be proud, Ethan."

I looked up at him, still reeling, still not quite sure how to hold all this.

"You think I'll actually be good at it?"

Reinhard's smile didn't waver.

"I have full faith in your capabilities. You just haven't practiced yet."

Reinhard stepped toward the door, glancing back with a small smile.

"Would you like to try something?"

I blinked.

"Wait, seriously? Here?"

He nodded. "There are practice chambers here on-site. I'm sure they'll permit us to borrow one, given the circumstances."

'Given the circumstances, probably translated to Reinhard van Astrea asked nicely.'

We left the assessment room and moved through a different hall, quieter, less decorative than the main corridor that we had walked through. No murals. No robed scholars muttering to themselves about mana diffusion curves.

The walls here were smooth-cut stone, darker and cooler than the rest of the Academy. The windows were fewer, narrower. Rein led the way without asking directions, and I followed without hesitation, because, of course, he knew where we were going.

"This wing is for applied testing and advanced spell training," he said as we walked.

"They allow students to rent private rooms by the hour or by appointment. But for us, I doubt there'll be any delay."

Sure enough, one polite conversation with a staff member later, and a short detour through a security checkpoint of robed sorcerers donning sleek white ceramic masks, that mostly involved them apologizing to Rein, we arrived at the training chamber.

The door was thick, reinforced, and enchanted. I didn't need Reason and Judgement to guess that.

Rein pushed it open, and we stepped inside.

The air changed immediately.

Cool. Dry. Still.

The room was large, bigger than I expected. Maybe twenty feet by twenty-five, with high ceilings and rounded corners. No windows. The walls were gray stone, but not raw; they'd been polished and etched with faint, glowing runes. Stabilizers, maybe. Or shielding.

The floor was flat, made of dark-tiled stonework with scorch marks in several spots. A few faint impact dents dotted the walls. One side of the room had a small spread of wooden and metal training dummies, scuffed, battered, and clearly used. No decorations. No furniture. Just space.

Everything in here had one purpose: containment.

This was where people went to throw fireballs and not burn the place down.

I stepped forward slowly, boots echoing lightly off the floor. My eyes trailed the glowing lines along the walls, following the way they spiraled toward the ceiling before fading out.

"Feels like a bomb shelter," I muttered.

Reinhard chuckled softly behind me.

"It's built to absorb up to mid-tier level casting."

Reinhard gave me space in the training chamber, stepping toward one corner with his arms behind his back like this was any other Tuesday.

"You'll need to speak the incantation to focus your mana," he said gently. "Basic combat fire magic starts with the word 'Goa.' Keep your intent simple. Picture the flame forming. Let the word direct the flow of mana from your Gate. Too much and the spell can overload and backfire on you, too little and nothing will happen."

I nodded, practically vibrating.

'Right, not too much, not too little, 'Goa,' and imagination, right?' 

I stepped forward, heart hammering, and planted my feet. My palm opened in front of me like I was trying to warm it near a fireplace.

I reached down inside myself, much like I had when I first touched upon my Authority, and once more, it felt rather instinctive to find this new sensation, my Gate. 

There it was within me, the filter to take in and expel mana, right now I needed to expel some mana to form a spell. 

'Okay. Magic. Real fucking fire magic. Just say the word and draw some mana out to feed it.'

I drew it out.

The air shifted faintly around me. 

I imagined in my mind a flame, something small and contained, like the flame from a lighter.

And then I whispered the word:

"Goa."

A spark ignited in my palm.

Tiny. Flickering. Wild.

I flinched, but didn't lose it.

I opened my eyes to see a flame no larger than a candle dancing just above my hand. It curled upward like it was tasting the air, barely stable, but very real.

"Holy shit," I breathed. "I just cast a spell."

Reinhard nodded, calm but clearly pleased.

"Good. Try focusing the flame. Shape it outward. Imagine a contained ball of mana, you're going to make a fireball, then I want you to cut the flow of mana, and throw it at a target."

I stared at the fire, felt the mana threading out of my Gate, and opened the filter just a little more. I needed more mana if I wanted anything real here.

The trickle I had going suddenly turned into a stream of mana, and the little candle grew into a basketball-sized fireball. 

I narrowed my focus, pulled my arm back, cut the flow of mana flowing into the ball, and took a breath. 

Then threw.

The flame surged and launched to where I aimed, right at one of the training dummies on the other side of the room. It arced upward and through the air, then suddenly, it lost cohesion, then exploded into midair about halfway to the target in a gust of smoke. 

I blinked. 

Jaw dropped. Eyes wide. 

I had just done that. 

'Sure, it hadn't even made it to the target, but damn, I just threw a fucking fireball that exploded!'

Reinhard stepped forward slowly, a light smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"That was… enthusiastic," he said, voice warm with quiet amusement. "And surprisingly close for a first attempt."

I looked at him, still trying to decide if I should laugh or panic.

"It exploded halfway there."

"It formed, traveled, and dispersed without hurting you or damaging the room." He raised an eyebrow slightly. "That's more than most can say after their first cast."

He stopped beside me, letting his gaze drift briefly to the faint scorch mark the fireball had left in the air.

"You let too much mana pour in at the end. The structure couldn't hold, so it collapsed mid-flight. But the control at the start was good."

I blinked.

"So… like, B-minus?"

"More like high marks for potential. And style." He smiled a little more now, and there was something proud behind his eyes, even if he didn't say it directly. "You'll improve quickly. I can tell."

"Thanks, buddy, I think I wanna try again, is that fine with you?"

He nodded and proceeded back to his corner of the room, "Of course, if you need me, I'll be right here."

'Alright, one more time.'

I stepped back into position, centered myself, and raised my palm again. This time, I wanted to do it properly, that meant focus.

'I think I have just the tool for that.'

The moment I reached for my gate, I paused.

And activated it.

Reason and Judgement

Click

The world froze.

The smoke from my failed attempt stopped mid-drift.

Everything around me became perfectly still, perfectly quiet. The lines of mana that threaded from my Gate to my arm hung in place, coiled, mid-motion. Not something visible, but clearly felt.

Reinhard stood silently across the room, locked in place, his expression halfway between patient and proud.

The rush of elation I had felt over gaining and casting magic for the first time dulled away into mild amusement. 

No more jitters, no rush from adrenaline, just clarity. 

I looked down at the palm of my hand.

Last time, I'd poured in too much mana. I hadn't felt it then, but now… I could see it.

I let the scene rewind, replayed the moment frame by frame. Every microsecond perfectly available, captured in crystalline focus by Reason and Judgement.

I watched myself speak the incantation. Watched mana flare outward, forming the initial spark.

Then came the misstep: trying to follow Reinhard's guidance without knowing the feel of balance.

The glow at the spell's core was bloated. Uneven. Heat shimmered in the air like a mirage — the magic was overinflated, fragile.

'Too much intake. Like Rein said, I was too slow cutting the stream.'

And yet… it still mostly held. That explained why it didn't detonate in my hand. It collapsed because the excess weight threw off the structure, and eventually it crumbled.

If I had to guess? I'd overshot by… forty, maybe fifty percent.

I turned my attention inward, followed the threads of mana back to the source, to my Gate.

Still open. Still humming, waiting for me to guide the flow.

But now I understood. Now I could feel what the balance should be.

Ease the draw. Stabilize the core. Let it breathe.

'Alright. Let's do this right.'

I let Reason and Judgement go.

Time resumed.

The confidence stayed.

"Goa."

Heat surged through the air again. Fire bloomed in my palm, warmer this time, but steady.

I didn't rush.

I shaped the image in my mind: the size, the weight, the density. I adjusted my draw from the Gate, not too much, not too little... and cut.

Arm raised. Hand aimed.

The heat rejoined the air. The fire in my hand pulsed again, warmer now, but manageable.

This time, I didn't rush it. I visualized the shape I wanted. The size. The weight. I adjusted my draw from the Gate, not too much, not too little... and cut.

Arm raised, hand aimed.

The flame snapped forward.

I didn't need to lob it like a grenade; a proper Goa should fire like an arrow.

No wobble. No overblown puff. And no clumsy arc.

It flew straight, clean through the air, and struck the training dummy full in the chest. A controlled whoomp of flame spread out on impact as the magic combusted, blackening the torso as flames licked the ground around the dummy in a meter radius.

A slow, calm grin spread across my face. "…Now that's more like it."

I lowered my hand and flexed my fingers. They still tingled from the cast, residual heat, maybe. Then I felt the leftover confidence of my Authority fade away. 

My breathing shifted. Not panting or gasping or anything, just… aware. Like I'd been running drills.

A slight ache sat behind my eyes, the kind you get from too much screen time or not enough water. Nothing debilitating, but definitely noticeable.

'Mana drain?'

I couldn't quantify it in numbers, but I felt like I still had a decent enough amount left in the tank to try out my Yang magic. 

Reinhard stepped closer, his gaze moving briefly to the blackened training dummy before settling back on me.

"That one flew true."

I smirked. "I cheated."

His brow lifted slightly. "Authority?"

"Authority," I echoed.

He nodded once.

"Good tactical use of your skills."

"So?" he asked, voice gentler now. "How do you feel?"

I rolled my shoulders. Focused on the thrum still buzzing through my chest.

"Bit winded. Like I've been jogging while holding my breath."

I paused, then gave a small grin. "But I'm good. I've got enough left to try one more."

Reinhard tilted his head, already sensing where I was going.

"Yang?"

"Yang," I repeated, giving a nod.

But then it hit me.

Wait, what even was Yang magic?

Fire was self-explanatory. Fireball go boom. Warmth, heat, destruction. Maybe if this whole magic system is a little more advanced, there was temperature manipulation in there. Even if I didn't know the details, the vibe was clear.

But Yang?

I frowned slightly.

'I mean… Yin and Yang, right? Balance, light and dark, that whole deal. So Yang must be light?

'Wait, I don't even know the incantation to cast Yang magic.' I turned to face Rein, but before I could even open my mouth, "One of the basic combat incantations for Yang is 'Jiwald.'" he answered.

'Ever the mind reader, my friend is.'

But I still had questions. The last thing I wanted was to pop off some rare, half-understood magic and accidentally purify myself out of existence.

"So what does Jiwald actually do? I'm guessing Yang magic is, what, light magic? That's how it worked in my world, balance, brightness, light."

I waved a hand vaguely. "Does that mean I'm gonna turn into a walking, eh… light crystal?"

Flashlight was the word I wanted, but I was pretty sure that concept didn't exist here. Closest thing I'd seen was one of those blue-glowing wall stones.

I glanced at Reinhard.

He caught the look.

"Yang magic is generally used as a force multiplier, but in combat manifests as radiant energy," he said calmly. "The basic combat spell, Jiwald, channels a concentrated beam of heat and light. From the fingertips, usually."

"So… a finger beam?"

"In simple terms, yes. But don't underestimate it."

He nodded toward the metal dummy at the far wall.

"A well-formed Jiwald can pierce through solid wood, and sear iron. And a poorly formed one—"

"Could probably cook my entire arm?" I offered.

"It's certainly a possibility," he replied with an infuriatingly gentle smile.

I exhaled then raised my right hand again, this time with fingers extended in finger-gun fashion.

'Okay, Yang Magic. Beam of light, controlled output so I don't cook myself.'

A breath in.

'Draw from the Gate. Just enough.'

"Jiwald."

What happened next wasn't "just enough."

It was a goddamn solar flare.

The beam that exploded from my fingertips wasn't neat or narrow; it was a blinding column of white-gold light that shrieked through the room like it had somewhere to be.

It slammed into the metal training dummy and—

SHHHRRRKKK—

Clean cut.

Dead center.

The top half of the dummy slid off the bottom at an angle with a slow metallic groan, clanging to the floor a second later like a fallen gong.

Smoke curled from the edges of the slice.

The room went still.

I stood frozen with my fingers still extended and my mouth slightly open.

"...Woah," I said. "That was more than I expected."

Then the fatigue hit.

Hard.

Like someone had unplugged my soul for a moment and forgotten to warn me.

My knees didn't buckle, but I felt the warning, my chest hollowed, my fingers shook slightly, and the back of my neck went clammy.

Reinhard stepped forward calmly, eyes flicking from the bisected dummy to me.

"That," he said, "was an overcharge."

"No kidding." I swayed a little and straightened back up. "That took way more out of me than Goa."

He nodded.

"Yang magic pulls from deeper reserves, but you also poured far too much through your Gate without a limiter in place."

"And sliced the dummy in half, I thought you said Jiwald could only sear iron?"

Reinhard gave a faint smile, already moving to my side.

"That was in regard to a well-formed Jiwald. You definitely had the power there, but the control was a little lacking."

He finally reached my side and gave me an arm to help steady me.

"But regardless, considering this was your first time using magic, and you succeeded in getting results on your first cast in both cases, I'd say you're doing exceptionally well."

That made me feel a little better, though the lack of energy I was currently facing stifled that. 

Reinhard glanced at me thoughtfully.

"There are ways to recover mana more quickly. Rest, of course. But there are also certain foods that stimulate the gate."

I blinked. "Like a magical energy drink?"

"Something like that," he said. "A fruit, specifically. Bokko. It's often eaten raw or used in tonics. Helps rejuvenate spent mana by activating it in your body."

Of course, that was the moment Rein pulled one out of his coat pocket and handed it to me.

My eyes narrowed in confusion as I stared down at it. It looked exactly like a walnut, but purple and slightly longer.

"Where did you even get that? When did you even get that? I've been by your side the entire day…"

Reinhard looked at me with that same serene, perfectly honest expression that made lying seem like a mortal sin.

"Back in the market around noon, when you stopped to ask the merchant about ground dragon stirrups. You were distracted for six seconds."

I blinked harder.

"…You bought this fruit while I was asking about leather accessories?"

"I had a feeling," he said simply.

"Right… well, thanks. So, I just eat it?"

"Yes, you might feel a sudden surge in energy."

I looked down at the fruit again, then slowly up at Reinhard.

"…This is reminding me of the last time you handed me something 'good for me.'"

He tilted his head, clearly innocent.

"The potion." I offered. 

Still nothing from him, just that calm, polite smile like he hadn't once given me something that tasted like fermented despair mixed with regret.

I narrowed my eyes at the Bokko fruit.

"This isn't gonna taste like swamp-flavored betrayal, is it?"

"It's a fruit," he said, as if that settled anything.

Still suspicious, I took a bite anyway.

'Holy shit.'

Crisp. Sweet. A little tart on the edges. Somewhere between a peach and a melon.

I blinked.

"Damn, this is actually pretty good, and here I thought you were playing with me again. Sorry for doubting you, buddy."

Reinhard gave a small shrug, as if to say it was fine.

And then it hit.

The kick.

Like a thunderclap inside my chest.

Mana didn't trickle back in; it poured, rushing through my Gate like a wave breaking through a dam.

I jolted upright, eyes wide.

"OH—holy what the fuck—"

I had to brace myself against Rein as the jitters racked my entire body for a couple seconds. Every vein in my body felt like it was vibrating in a major key.

And then, just as quickly as it hit—

It passed.

I straightened slowly, hand still braced on Reinhard's shoulder. My pulse had stopped doing cartwheels, and the invisible buzzing in my bones finally quieted down.

"Yeesh," I breathed, blinking the last traces of energy-jitters out of my vision. "That was… an experience."

"It was effective," Reinhard offered.

"Effective? That thing hit harder than coffee mixed with crack cocaine."

He just gave a small shrug, as if the experience of having your mana rebooted with the force of a divine slap was completely ordinary.

I took another glance at the training room. One dummy a bit burnt up, another cleaved clean through, and probably a solid chunk of my mana bar missing. Not bad for a first day. 

"We should head out," Reinhard said gently. "The Academy doesn't typically offer lodging to non-enrolled students, and you've done more than enough for one afternoon."

"Yeah…" I exhaled, suddenly aware of just how long the day had been. "Let's get outta here before someone comes in and asks why their dummy looks like it got hit by a solar cannon."

We stepped back into the corridor, the heavy door to the practice chamber clicking shut behind us. The halls were quieter now, fewer students, the afternoon winding toward evening. That subtle haze of the Magic District's cool air met us again as we crossed through the orientation wing, out past the Time Tower plaza.

I felt a profound sense of accomplishment blooming in my chest. 

I was capable of magic.

And then the thought hit me.

'Why the hell was a fireball the first thing I started with?!'