Let me tell you something important about magic academies:
They are not all sparkling wands, floating candles, and cute uniforms.
No, no, no. That's what dumb fantasy anime wants you to think. The reality? It's a chaotic mess of egos, politics, poorly-timed spells, and at least one noble brat who thinks setting the curtains on fire is "expressive art."
And today? Today was my first official magic class at the illustrious Arcadia Royal Academy.
Spoiler alert: it did not go well.
"Good morning, esteemed students of the First Year Arcane Studies cohort!"
Our professor — a tall, thin man with wild gray hair that looked like it had been electrocuted and a face that screamed "I haven't slept since the last magical war" — stood at the front of the grand, domed classroom, clapping his hands together like an excited squirrel.
"Today, we begin our journey into the Fundamentals of Elemental Manipulation!" he announced dramatically, as if he were about to summon a god or cure world hunger or something. "By the end of this lesson, you will all have successfully conjured your first controlled flame!"
A chorus of excited murmurs filled the room. Most of the students — especially the ones with noble crests bigger than their brains — looked thrilled. Like conjuring fire was the coolest shit since sliced mana bread.
Me? I was already sweating.
Because I had absolute power.
Which meant, theoretically, I could probably summon the sun and roast the entire class without breaking a sweat.
But also… I had no fucking clue how to control it.
The mysterious Earth guy — the one who gave me this bullshit "absolute power" — didn't exactly stick around for a tutorial. No manual. No instructions. Just a glowing orb of chaos shoved into my chest and a casual "use it well or don't."
Thanks, dude. Really helpful.
"Lady Lumière, you may step forward first."
Oh.
Oh no.
Out of everyone in the class, why did the professor look directly at me?
I blinked. "Me?"
"Yes, you," he said, squinting at me like I'd just insulted his lineage. "As the newest member of House Arandale, I'm sure you'd like to set an example for the other students."
"I'd rather set my own hair on fire, thanks," I muttered under my breath.
Too loud.
Several students snickered. Seraphina shot me a glare that could melt steel. Adrian Riven — that dumb blonde idiot from yesterday — gave me a thumbs-up like I was about to perform a miracle or something.
I sighed, stood up, and walked to the front of the class like a woman walking to her doom.
The professor handed me a mana focus crystal — some shiny rock on a stick that was supposed to help channel magical energy. I took it reluctantly, gripping it like it might bite me.
"Now then," the professor said, clapping his hands. "Conjure a small flame in the palm of your hand. Nothing too extravagant. Just enough to prove you can control the flow of elemental energy."
Easy, right?
Wrong.
I held up the crystal, closed my eyes, and tried to focus.
C'mon, you useless pile of cosmic spaghetti. Do something useful for once.
Nothing.
I opened my eyes, glanced at the professor, then at the rest of the class, who were all watching me like I was about to either save the day or blow up the campus.
"Uh… give me a sec?" I said, sweating bullets.
"Take your time, Lady Lumière," the professor said, though the way he said it made it clear he was already regretting calling on me.
I focused again.
And again.
Still nothing.
Okay, Kim Min-Jae, think. You've got infinite magical power. You're literally unstoppable. You just have to… uh… access it? How the hell does that work?
I clenched my fist around the crystal, frustration bubbling up inside me like a fucking pressure cooker.
And then…
BOOM.
A sudden burst of golden fire erupted from my palm.
Not a small flame. Not a controlled little spark. No, no, no.
I unleashed what could only be described as a miniature fucking sun in the middle of the classroom.
The fire roared to life, engulfing my entire arm and shooting up toward the ceiling like it had a personal vendetta against gravity. Students screamed and scrambled out of their seats. The professor yelled something about "containment" and "divine intervention." A nearby chandelier exploded into sparks. Someone shouted, "IS SHE TRYING TO KILL US ALL?!"
I panicked. Naturally.
"OH, FUCK— I DIDN'T MEAN TO— SHIT SHIT SHIT—"
I dropped the crystal. The fire didn't go out. If anything, it got stronger.
"LADY LUMIÈRE, STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!" the professor bellowed, waving his hands frantically as he summoned some kind of water spell to douse the flames.
I finally managed to think the right thing — probably out of sheer desperation — and muttered, "Okay, okay, shut the hell up, fireball."
And just like that, the flames vanished.
Silence.
Dead silence.
Everyone was staring at me. Some looked terrified. Some looked impressed. A few looked like they were already drafting my expulsion notice.
The professor stared at me like I'd just personally offended the gods of magic.
"…Lady Lumière," he said slowly, his voice dangerously calm. "Would you care to explain what that was?"
I swallowed hard. "Uh… spontaneous combustion?"
More silence.
"…That was not spontaneous combustion," he said through gritted teeth. "That was a tier-five fire spell. The kind that requires years of training to even attempt. And you just… did it on accident?"
"Yep!" I said brightly, trying to play it cool. "Guess I'm just naturally talented!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're coming with me after class."
"Yes, sir," I mumbled, already planning my escape route.
After Class: Interrogation, Threats, and Zero Regrets
The professor dragged me into a tiny side office that smelled like old parchment and regret. He closed the door. Sat down behind his desk. Stared at me like I was a lab experiment gone horribly wrong.
"You do realize you nearly destroyed the classroom, correct?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"Uh… not destroyed, per se," I said, leaning back in the chair like I didn't just almost incinerate half the school. "More like… renovated with fire."
"You could have killed someone!"
"Not my fault they can't dodge," I shot back. "Besides, no one got hurt, right?"
He glared at me. "That's not the point."
"Isn't it?" I asked innocently. "Because from where I'm standing, I just showed off some next-level magic. Pretty sure that's a good thing."
"It is not a good thing when you can't control it!" he snapped. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? That kind of power—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I interrupted. "I'm a walking magical disaster. Lucky me."
He stared at me for a long moment. Then he sighed, rubbing his temples like I was giving him an aneurysm.
"Look. I'm not saying you're expelled… yet. But you're being placed under strict observation. No more unsupervised magic. No more showing off. And if you so much as think about lighting something on fire again, I'm personally dragging you to the disciplinary council."
"Got it," I said, saluting him sarcastically. "No fire. No fun. Got it."
He didn't look amused.
Neither was I.
But hey — at least I didn't get expelled. Yet.
And that was how my first official day of magic class ended:
With a catastrophic fireball.
With a terrified professor.
With a banned list of spells.
And with me walking away like I hadn't just nearly burned the school down.
Oh, and did I mention the five love interests?
Yeah, about that…
One of them might've seen the whole thing.
And he definitely thinks I'm some kind of mysterious, untamed magical goddess.
Awesome.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]