The black-haired girl was simply outraged. She belonged to one of the ancient noble families, admired and respected throughout the Griffon Kingdom. She had always been treated like a princess of royal blood; no one had ever dared disrespect her.
Now, not only did she have to endure all those harsh words, but she also had no way to bite back at Professor Vastor. Threatening a mage belonging to an academy was like spitting toward the sky—it would always backfire.
All he had to do to put an end to her career as a healer was to give her a bad evaluation. Having five siblings and being at the bottom of the line of succession, magic was her only redeeming feature.
She could only swallow her pride and answer:
"The lower tiers of light magic have two insurmountable limits. The first being that light magic can only enhance the recovery of the patient. If they suffered from an excessive blood loss or are already on the verge of death, healing magic is useless.
"The second limit…"
"Okay, enough. Your turn, edgy face." He cut her short, pointing his finger at Stella.
"The second limit is that it cannot regrow lost body parts, be it organs or limbs. Clean-cut fingers or extremities can be reattached, but only if well preserved and within an hour from the amputation."
"Correct and correct!" Vastor almost sounded disappointed.
"Now, who can tell me how, hypothetically, the first issue could be solved?"
Everyone raised their hand once again.
"You, with the pauper face." He said to a petite girl with long brown hair, sitting a few desks away from Stella. Because of her small and scrawny build, it was hard to imagine her being twelve years old; she barely looked like she was a day past eight.
Clearly, she had suffered from malnutrition for a long time. Stella's sixth sense told her that the academy's uniform was probably the first pretty clothes the girl had ever had.
With all the stress from her first day at the academy, the threats and insults from Professor Vastor had been the last straw for her. When she tried to answer, only hiccups came out—she was fighting back her tears.
Her hand instinctively played with the Ballot, but she didn't activate it. It was the girl's problem, not hers. She had done nothing for Stella when she had been bullied twice that morning, so Stella had no reason to bother helping her.
Her movements, though, didn't escape Professor Vastor's eyes. He muttered to himself, clearly worried about the Ballot and its potential consequences.
"I'm so sorry, young miss. I didn't mean to offend you. There, there. Take your time before answering." His voice was suddenly all milk and honey, offering her a handkerchief from his chest pocket. Despite her frail looks, she needed but a second to compose herself.
"The only way to do it…" she replied, sniffing from time to time.
"…would be to somehow infuse the patient with an external source of life force. But that's impossible. I worked as a healer since I was six years old, I've tried countless spells and always failed.
"Light magic cannot create or pass energy, only nourish what is already there."
The whole class nodded. Stella thought, The only patients I have ever failed were those that arrived too late to be saved. Not even my true magic could transfuse life force.
"Correct, young miss!" This time he sounded genuinely happy. The class was starting to think he suffered from severe mood swings.
"And don't worry, here at the light department we will fix your growth problem in a snap, you have my word." After making sure that he was out of the hole he had dug for himself, he resumed using his snarky tone.
"The little one is right. Light magic cannot do it. No matter how talented the mage or how complex the spell, it's impossible. Yet tier four light magic can. Anyone want to take an educated guess?"
The classroom fell silent; no hand was raised. Professor Vastor sneered at their ignorance, puffing out his chest.
"Oh, oh, oh! Seems you still have much to learn. But you have come to the right place. The answer is: it's only possible by mixing it with darkness magic."
"What?"
"How?"
"The f*ck?"
Professor Vastor ignored their shocked expression and the exclamations filling the classroom. He waved his hands in the air, generating with first magic a black and white circle identical to Earth's representation of Yin and Yang.
"The greatest legacy left to us from Magus Silverwing is the knowledge that light and darkness magic are but one. They perpetually dance together in all things. When one pushes, the other pulls.
"When light steps forward, darkness steps backward and vice versa. When they are in harmony, life thrives—otherwise, only death awaits. The key to tier four light magic is weaving them together.
"Dark magic takes the energy from the donor, while light magic allows it to enter the patient's body without a backlash. Balancing them is the key to success."
Stella thought, How can I be so stupid? I read that goddamn book hundreds of times, I should have understood this years ago by myself. I wish I was more talented in magic, or at least smarter.
"Excuse me, Professor, I have a question." Snob face awoke them from her self-pity moment.
"If here at the White Griffon we mix light and dark magic together for healing, what's the difference between us and the Black Griffon? Can't they do the same?"
"The difference, dear snob face, lies in the purpose. Here at the White Griffon, we are proud of our light magic department, where we can cure almost everything.
"At the Black Griffon, they specialize in destroying things."
The rest of the hour Professor Vastor showed them again and again the simplest tier four light magic spell until everyone was capable of performing it.
The fastest students turned out to be young miss, an arrogant-faced kid, snob face, and edgy face, in this order.
Stella had done her best. She needed to experience the spell with fake magic before being able to reproduce and enhance it with true magic. Yet she ended up in fourth place.
After that, Professor Vastor opened a Warp Steps that brought them right outside the academy's hospital.
Stella observed carefully. By keeping the portal open for so long, the Professor gave me the time I needed to analyze it. The reason why the staff can create them with such ease is because of the ring with the academy's insignia they wear.
The whole castle is a giant artifact. They simply use the rings to tap into its powers. If my uniform has so many functions, I can't even imagine what something as big and powerful as this building can do.
She didn't reply further—just wondered how powerful she could become if she regained what she had lost. She had only found mentions of magic towers in fairy tales, and they were described as something unfathomable.
According to the lore, within their own magic tower, a mage was nigh omnipotent. But fairy tales also told about fairy godmothers, elves, sprites, and happy endings, and she had yet to meet someone who took any of those things seriously.
When she had spoken about them with Nana, Lark, and the Marchioness, they had all mocked her for her childish daydreams.
When the students entered through the double doors, they found it hard to believe their eyes.
The academy's hospital ward would put any Earth hospital to shame. The floors were able to self-clean, the beds would move and massage the patients' bodies to avoid bedsores, and they constantly monitored their vitals.
The air was fresh and clean, free from the smell of disinfectants that usually plague these kinds of places. Everything looked more like something out of a celebrity resort rather than a place where people went to die.
"What a marvel of magic!" said the arrogant-faced boy from before, a fifteen-year-old 1.65 meters (5'5") tall with red hair. "But I suppose it was to be expected, since you were the one designing the whole thing, Professor Vastor."
"Yurial, my boy!" Professor Vastor finally recognized him.
"Long time no see. How is your old man, Deirus? Being an archmage is a big burden. You must be ready to step in and help him as soon as possible."
"My dad is doing fine, thank you. I'll send him your regards. With your help, I'm sure I will be able to keep the family tradition."
"But of course! Mage bloodlines are highly treasured here at the light department. I hope you'll show all those snotty nobles and poor commoners what a true magician is made of."
Stella thought, I stand corrected. He does discriminate—just not the way I am used to. He seems to be a sucker for magical families instead of noble ones. I guess not every Professor can be like Trasque or Nalear.
Just thinking her name sent a warm feeling throughout her body that Stella hastily suppressed.
She despised herself for her weak, hormonal body wasting her precious time and energy on teenage delusions.
Stella could not afford any slip-ups. The trial round was about to begin, and she was determined to shine among her peers.