Chapter 67: Punishment (1)

Melody shot through the air, soaring past Professor Quinn and the students in her path. Their robes and hair whipped around wildly as each step covered ten feet, significantly easing the strain on her body.

With a flick of her wrist, Melody shifted direction, darting along the inside of the fence. In a matter of moments, she flew past Michael and Rudy, who had been at the front of the group—until she reached the professor once again.

By now, the professor stood in her way, blocking her path. Without Melody’s impeccable control over mana, she would have collided head-on with the woman, likely causing serious damage.

But Melody deftly changed course, intending to dodge the obstacle.

Just as she tried to skirt around the professor, the woman grabbed the billowing edge of her robe with surgical precision—yanking it hard.

“Eeeek!”

Melody was thrown backward, her feet slipping out from under her. Just as it seemed she would land flat on her back, Professor Quinn conjured a cushion of mana beneath her, softening the fall.

“So, you want to skip my strength and conditioning training, young lady?” she asked coolly, manipulating the air to lift Melody back to her feet.

Melody’s blue hair was frazzled, her cheeks flushed, and her usually pale skin showed signs of exertion, despite having completed only two laps of the field. Yet, her expression remained defiant, akin to a spoiled child denied their way.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, “we’re mages, why do we need to run?”

The class fell into a tense silence, though many secretly agreed with Melody. After all, what was the point of physical training when magic could accomplish so much more?

However, the oppressive atmosphere silenced any protests. Instead, most students took a wait-and-see approach.

This idiot… Why would you provoke the combat teacher on the first day?

Michael grumbled inwardly, watching the unfolding scene with growing apprehension. He could only imagine the punishment Melody would soon face.

“Oh?” Professor Quinn raised an eyebrow, a small, dangerous smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t want to run?” Her voice dripped with an underlying threat, sending a ripple of unease through the first-years.

“No, I don’t see the point,” Melody responded, her noble composure faltering slightly under the professor’s intimidating gaze.

“Very well,” Professor Quinn said, nodding as she patted Melody’s shoulder. “This student is right. Perhaps my method was indeed pointless.” She turned to address the rest of the first-years.

Michael’s stomach tightened. “I have a bad feeling about this…” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the professor’s cryptic smile.

“Instead of running, you can all walk. And instead of ten laps, I’ll reduce it to five.” Professor Quinn declared, her gaze returning to Melody. “Does that sound agreeable, young lady? Think of it as some light exercise before we get to the fun part of the class.”

Melody seemed momentarily caught off guard, but she quickly regained composure and nodded. “I guess that wouldn’t be too bad,” she said, fixing her hair and flashing a self-satisfied smile, clearly pleased with herself for forcing the professor to make a concession.

“Wonderful. Now, get moving,” the professor commanded, her tone leaving no room for further discussion.

At her insistence, the group of students including Michael began to move once more to complete the laps. For a few moments, they tensed, waiting for something to happen—but after completing a single lap with no issues, many began to believe that there would be no reprisal.

“Oh, I almost forgot…”

Professor Quinn, now standing in the center of the field, spoke up. Her hands were placed confidently on her hips as she raised her left hand high above her head, summoning a pool of deep green mana that swirled above her palm.

“Gravitas Vincula, flecte corpus, subde terrae!”

Her words rang out like thunder, sending shockwaves through the students walking around the enclosure. A heavy pressure descended on the group as the mana coalesced, forming an intricate magic circle in the air.

“W-What the hell is this?”

“Is she going to kill us?”

Shouts of disbelief and concern erupted from the students as the spell manifested.

Gravitas? Is she manipulating gravity!? Michael thought, his eyes wide with astonishment. As someone with a deep interest in magic, witnessing the spell he had only read about come to life before him felt like a dream.

Unfortunately, there was no time for him to fully appreciate the spectacle.

In the next instant, Michael’s body was struck by a crushing weight, nearly forcing him to the ground. His bones and muscles screamed in protest as they fought to keep him upright.

But many of the other students weren’t as fortunate, now sprawled on their knees or backsides from the added weight of the spell.

Melody was slammed face-first into the ground like a pancake. Only a tiny squeal escaped her lips before she fell silent, completely pinned by the gravity.

“Okay, that’s better.” Professor Quinn announced with a satisfied sigh. “Five laps, let’s go!” she shouted, her voice sharp and commanding.

Five laps like this? How the hell are we going to do that? Michael thought, his gaze shifting to the source of the professor’s wrath—Melody.

He couldn’t afford to focus on her now—scolding the arrogant noble could wait. Glancing painfully around the field, Michael saw only a handful of students still standing out of the hundred or so present.

Braydon, along with his forgettable black-haired lackey, was one of the few still upright, as well as himself and Rudy. Michael’s eyes locked with Braydon’s, who sneered in silence, wordlessly issuing a challenge across the field.

Michael didn’t need to read minds to understand the silent message.

The first person to fall is a weakling.

Ignoring the screams of his body, Michael took a slow, determined step forward, his foot sinking heavily into the ground beneath him. The oppressive weight of the gravity spell made even this simple action feel like the first steps of a toddler.

Once he found his balance, Michael glanced back at Braydon, only to see him already moving—he’d also completed his first step.

Alright, time to get serious…

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