"Alright!" Professor Yani Griffin shouted with enthusiasm that filled the classroom like a gust of wind. "We'll be going back to the basics—Thread Ball!"
'Thread Ball…?' Cipher blinked, his brows knitting. The term was entirely foreign to him.
Yani walked to the center of the room with an almost theatrical energy, hands gesturing in circles as he spoke. "As you all know, your mana is represented by a yarn ball, right?"
A chorus of students responded with confident nods and affirmations.
"Yep!"
"The basics!"
But Cipher just stared, stunned. 'My mana is a yarn ball?' he repeated the idea in his mind, baffled.
Professor Yani didn't pause. "The longer your thread, the greater the amount of mana you currently possess. Think of it like this: your mana pool is not just a floating well of energy. It's a tightly packed thread—thin, powerful, and versatile."
Cipher tried to imagine it. 'A ball of yarn, tangled inside his body?' The image made no sense, yet the way others nodded told him this was second nature to them.
"There are thirty-two known colors of thread," Yani continued, pacing with a chalk in hand. "Each color represents a different elemental alignment. For instance, if your thread is currently white, that indicates wind affinity. But—and this is important—you can split your thread into sections and assign different colors to different parts. It's not fixed."
The professor drew a circle in the air, mimicking a yarn loop.
"Now—just because your thread is white doesn't mean you can immediately cast wind spells. First, you must cut a portion of your thread from your mana pool. Once separated, you can shape that segment into a form."
Cipher's head tilted slightly. He followed Yani's every word with intense focus.
"For example," the professor explained, "to create a basic wind spell called Wind Gale, you must shape your thread into a spiral. But the shape alone isn't enough."
He raised one finger, emphasizing the point.
"After shaping, you must liquefy a fresh portion of mana—this is called liquid mana. You then pour this liquid mana into the prepared thread shape. If the thread is a circle and you pour in white mana, it becomes Wind Burst. Pour in red, and it transforms into Fire Spike. Same shape, different outcome."
Gasps and impressed murmurs rippled through the class.
"Think of it like this," Yani said, drawing invisible diagrams mid-air, "thread shape is the mold, liquid mana is the ingredient. Change the ingredient, change the result."
Cipher leaned forward, both fascinated and overwhelmed. 'My dad taught me our blood magic… but he never mentioned anything like this.'
"Skilled magicians," Yani continued, "can even combine two threads—different lengths, colors, and forms—to create compound spells. But be warned: it's complex and dangerous. Most people mess up the shapes or blend the wrong elements."
He chuckled, rubbing his neck modestly. "Of course, I can do it. Haha!"
Some students laughed along, others rolled their eyes.
"One more crucial point," he said, more serious now. "If the thread shape is close enough, the spell might still cast, though weaker. But if the thread is malformed, too strange, or unstable—it might not work at all. Worse, it could cast a completely different spell."
He clapped his hands, ending the intense crash course with a dramatic sigh. Though the students had supposedly learned this in Pre-Magic School, many still looked confused.
Cipher was completely lost. He opened his mouth slightly, as if the air would help organize his thoughts. 'This is... nothing like the blood magic Father showed me. Nothing about threads, colors, or shaping mana. Just rituals and cuts. Is that... outdated magic?'
"Cipher!" Professor Yani's voice snapped him back to reality.
Cipher stiffened. "Y-yes, sir?"
"We're heading to the training grounds. I'll demonstrate everything I just taught."
"It hasn't even been thirty minutes into class…" a red-haired girl scoffed from the front row, her voice laced with arrogance. She stood up, arms crossed, an unmistakable smirk painted across her face. "I'll show this Nunica kid how real family bloodlines work!"
Yani blinked in surprise. "Red hair… You must be from the Umazaki family?"
She smiled with haughty pride. "That's right! Finit Umazaki, at your service."
From behind, Caprio leaned forward in his seat. "Shall we get going, Professor?"
"Ah—yes, yes! Let's move out!"
---
The training grounds behind Arcadia Academy were massive—more like an open-air coliseum than a school facility. Stone flooring covered the wide arena, and shelves of practice weapons lined the walls, along with enchanted dummies that could withstand everything from basic spells to explosions.
The students lined up in six straight rows. Cipher hesitated, shrinking back to the end of the line.
"Cipher! To the front," Yani called, gesturing firmly.
Cipher flinched. "Yes, sir…" He stepped forward, slow and hesitant, his presence alone creating a bubble of awkward silence.
A space had been left between Caprio and Ohara. Cipher took his place between them, feeling like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong box.
Yani clapped once to draw attention.
"Now then! I'll demonstrate a basic wind spell—Wind Burst. It requires only a simple thread circle and white mana. Very beginner-friendly."
He turned to the class, arms raised.
"Wait—you're aiming it at us?!" one student cried, stepping back slightly.
"Don't worry," Yani said with a reassuring smile. "Wind Burst isn't designed to harm. Just watch carefully."
The professor inhaled deeply, then faced the students with a confident stance. "I'll recite the incantation for clarity, though it's not strictly necessary if your threading is good."
He raised his arms like a conductor about to cue a symphony.
"Wind Goddess of the great mountains, hear the wind through!"
For a moment—nothing. Then—
FWOOSH!
A powerful gust erupted from Yani's palm. The wind surged like a miniature storm, blasting toward the students.
Most of them shouted in alarm, arms flying up to shield their faces. Clothes flapped, hair whipped about, and bags tumbled across the stone floor.
But seven students stood firm—unmoving.
Caprio. Ohara. Cipher. Finit. A long-haired boy with obsidian-black hair. A wild-looking boy with spiky black hair. And a pink-haired girl who kept one eye closed, seemingly bored.
Yani raised an eyebrow. 'These kids… unfazed?'
He pointed at the long-haired boy first. "You. What's your name?"
The boy ran a hand dramatically through his hair. "Neo Morgyle! The most glamorous student of all!" He ended the sentence with a flourish and a laugh.
Yani blinked. "Right…"
He turned to the next. "You. Spiky."
"Huh? Me?" The boy looked around, as if surprised he was being spoken to. "I'm… uh…"
Yani frowned. 'Is this kid trying to remember his own name?'
"…I think it was Floyd?" he offered weakly.
All eyes turned to him with disbelief. A shared thought echoed across the line: Is he serious?
"…Right." Yani moved on quickly. "And you, pink-haired girl—Oregon family?"
"Yes! I-I am!" she stammered. "Ganite Oregon."
"Good. The seven of you," he said, facing the group. "You stood firm. You might have innate talent."
The crowd behind them began whispering, excitement building. Every student wanted to believe they were one of the chosen seven—even the ones who had nearly toppled over from the wind.
Cipher, however, didn't believe for a second that Yani was talking about him. He kept his gaze low, hands clenched by his sides.
Yani smiled. "Now—how about you all give it a try? I want to see what you're capable of."
Cipher swallowed nervously. He could feel the heat of Finit's glare next to him. Caprio stretched his hands calmly. Ohara merely crossed his arms, unimpressed as always.
As Yani gave them space, the crowd gathered in a semi-circle. The training ground suddenly felt much bigger—and the pressure heavier.
Cipher closed his eyes and placed a hand near his chest. For the first time, he tried to feel the yarn within.
Would he find a thread… or just emptiness?