(Arin's Perspective)
Dark clouds hung low over the capital, blocking the sun from touching the ground. However, the true storm was brewing right beside me.
Erika, her face flushed a deep crimson, was bombarding me with a relentless stream of scolding.
"Do you realize how panicked I was when I saw them carrying you in all bloody? I told you to rest, but why is your brain only filled with recklessness? Now look at you. Your arm is in a cast! Hey, Arin! Are you even listening?"
"Yes, Miss. My ears still function, so please lower the volume," I replied flatly, trying to calm the tempest next to me.
"You won't stop unless I do this! You always ignore your own safety. Can you worry about yourself for once? Your arm is broken like that, and besides..."
"Erika, may I ask for a favor?"
"What favor?"
"Please be quiet."
"..."
Erika's mouth snapped shut. Her eyes blinked in surprise, then the blush on her cheeks deepened. This time it wasn't from anger, but embarrassment. She looked ready to explode again with a fresh barrage of words.
Before that could happen, I quickly pressed my index finger to her lips.
"Sorry, Erika. The lesson is about to start. Save your energy."
Erika flinched. She froze, then slowly nodded innocently while holding her own lips.
Thump-thump.
My ears caught the sound. Erika's heartbeat. The rhythm was sincere, warm, and slightly rapid from nervousness.
It seemed the side effect of the frog heart serum had truly sharpened my hearing to a microscopic level.
Meanwhile, discordant whispers began to drift from the back rows.
"The Trash and the Weakling, a perfect match."
"Look at that Cripple, acting cool with his arm in a cast. He probably got beaten up by thugs."
"Poor Erika... she has a sweet face, but she is stuck clinging to non-magical garbage."
I could hear it all.
This was the first year the Academy accepted syndrome sufferers like Erika and me. It was natural for many pure-blooded nobles to feel insulted sharing a room with us. To them, we were stains on fine silk.
Shortly after, the classroom door opened. A woman in a tight black uniform marched toward the podium. It was Instructor Adnia, the lecturer for Amphitheater Theory. Her gaze was sharp, sweeping the class with the arrogance typical of a senior mage.
After explaining the basic theory of ice elements, Adnia glanced at the front row. Her gaze softened, bordering on fawning, when it landed on a girl with silver hair.
"Lady Rhyms, would you be so kind as to redemonstrate that spell for your friends who... lack talent?"
Elena Rhyms. The eldest daughter of Duke Rhyms. A genius Class S student who, for some reason, took this elective class. Her silver hair shone like holy thread, and a pair of golden eyes could bewitch anyone who looked into them. The school idol, the definition of perfection.
"Certainly, Instructor," Elena answered calmly. Her voice was melodious but cold, devoid of emotion.
She stepped up to the podium, raising a practice wand made of white Mahogany. Her lips murmured a short incantation.
Fifteen seconds.
It took only that briefly for a complex blue magic circle to form in the air. The room temperature plummeted drastically. The practice dummy in front of her was instantly encased in ice crystals shaped like rose petals.
Second Circle Magic: Flower Freezing.
Thunderous applause erupted. Every student watched in awe. Beautiful. Perfect.
However, my ears heard a different story.
Beneath that stunning layer of ice... THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
Elena's heart was racing unnaturally. The rhythm was chaotic, and her breath was hitched in her diaphragm.
She was indeed fast. Cutting casting time from thirty seconds to fifteen for a First Circle mage was a genius feat. But her body was screaming in protest.
I glanced at Erika. The girl beside me looked down, her shoulders slumping. Faced with a monster talent like Elena, her confidence was shattered.
"Magnificent, Lady Elena. As expected of the pure blood of the Rhyms Family," Instructor Adnia praised with a wide smile.
Then, the woman's eyes hunted for prey. Her gaze fell on Erika. Her smile twisted into a cunning sneer.
"In that case... Erika. Come to the front. Show us what a 'talent' like yours can do. Compare it with Lady Elena."
Erika flinched. Her face went pale. That crazy instructor was practically licking boots.
This was not education; it looked more like a public execution. Adnia deliberately wanted to showcase the difference between 'Gold' and 'Trash' to raise Elena's value in the public eye while humiliating Erika.
With trembling steps, Erika walked to the podium. She raised her dull wand. Her lips quivered as she recited the spell.
Seconds ticked by agonizingly.
Ten seconds... Twenty seconds...
A magic circle began to form, but the lines were broken and dim.
Thirty seconds... Still not finished.
"Enough! You are truly embarrassing!" snapped Instructor Adnia, cutting off Erika's chant. "See the difference? That is why syndrome trash should not dream of becoming mages!"
"Hahahaha..."
Laughter broke out, filling the room. Erika stood frozen, clutching her skirt tightly, holding back tears.
Elena, the genius, merely watched the scene flatly. She didn't laugh, but she didn't care either. Cold.
My blood boiled. Not from anger, but from disgust at this stupidity. I took a deep breath, calming my own heartbeat, then raised my voice.
"Your circuit is wasteful, Lady Rhyms."
The sentence slipped out calmly, yet it was loud enough to cut through the laughter of the entire class.
Silence seized the room instantly. Every head turned toward me. Their gazes implied disbelief: The Cripple dares to criticize the Princess?
"You wasted thirty percent of your mana just for the useless visual effect of ice flowers," I continued, staring straight into Elena's golden eyes. "That is why your body temperature dropped drastically in the neck area and your heart is experiencing mild tachycardia. You are burning your own engine for the sake of aesthetics."
Elena glared. Her mouth opened slightly, ready to refute. Her right hand reflexively moved to touch her neck, which must have felt freezing cold.
Those golden eyes trembled. She knew I was right.
I shifted my gaze to Erika, who was still rooted at the podium.
"And you, Erika. Your circuit isn't broken. Your flow is just too dense at the base, so it clogs when trying to exit through the wand's tip. That isn't 'low talent'; it's a problem of mana channel diameter mismatch. It is a structural error, not a personal failure."
The class went into an uproar.
"What is he talking about?"
"What does the Cripple know about magic?"
"But... Lady Elena is holding her neck. Is he right?"
Instructor Adnia's face turned a deep shade of red as her authority was stepped on.
"Enough! Arin, shut your mouth! How dare you disrupt the class with nonsense theories! Class dismissed!"
The woman packed her books roughly and stormed out, failing completely in her attempt to humiliate us further.
Elena snorted softly. She gave me a fleeting glance, a look hard to interpret, somewhere between offended and intrigued, then turned to leave the class without a single word.
Erika walked listlessly back to her seat. She sat beside me, tears pooling in her eyes.
"You're just comforting me, Arin. I really am untalented. The difference is too great..."
I patted the top of Erika's head with my healthy right hand.
"I don't comfort people, Erika. That isn't scientific and is a waste of time," I said firmly but quietly. "If I say your circuit can be fixed, it means it can be. I will draft a training theory for you later. The two of us will turn this arrogant class upside down."
Erika looked up. Her cheeks flushed red seeing my seriousness. Slowly, a thin smile rose on her lips.
"Really?"
"Absolutely."
Erika's heartbeat returned to normal. Warm, stable, and alive. Far more pleasant to listen to than the tinkling of arrogant ice magic earlier.