Days had passed.

And ever since we started our training, the only drop of water that was produced was our own sweat, and maybe a few tears.

The duel was coming closer by the day, and clearly, this wasn’t working.

Ricent tried. He really did. He followed my instructions to the letter, copied every motion, repeated every step until both of our voices grew hoarse. And yet, no matter how many times we went through with it, the magic refused to respond. There was always one or two things that were wrong, or just plain missing.

But what was it that we were missing? I even told him all the “Imagine you’re a fish” stuff from the book, but that didn’t help at all!

I rubbed my eyes, exhaustion seeping into my very bones. Staying up late for training, waking up early for class, repeating the same explanations over and over… it was all starting to blur together. At some point, I couldn’t keep count of the number of times I’d corrected his pronunciation.

It was to the point that it affected me in my classes. I had trouble keeping focus on Feyt lately, with how sleepy my eyes were; a few of my classmates, including Attila, even grew concerned for me, and one of them even offered a piggyback ride to my dorm.

Clearly, whatever this was wasn’t working. I needed a new method, but where do I even look?

“Feyt…?” Ricent’s voice was weak as he sat behind me.

“Yeah…?”

“My mouth is numb…”

“Must be the magic… haha…”

The laugh fell flat.

By now, even Ricent could tell nothing was working out.

Regretting this duel thing, yet?

We both sat lifelessly on the training yard, the moon about to reach its peak.

This was the extent of today’s training, it seemed, and once again, nothing had come of it.

—

I started the next day just like usual, pushing through my heavy eyes.

I headed to the library as Carine, eyes sharp for new books that might help out, even for a little bit. I had read most of the books on water spells and had memorized all the instructions.

And that is to say, I only had the instructions memorized. I still couldn’t find the original text for the chants anywhere, whether in their original language or in translation. It was suspiciously weird how lacking the books were on that front; it was like this Samonian stuff was the only way to document a spell.

How did a spell get taught around back then? Word of mouth?

At the same time, I was once again standing near the arena, trying to eavesdrop on any lessons I could.

And on this particular day, I noticed something rather peculiar.

The class wasn’t reviewing fundamentals for today. Instead, the instructor was introducing new spells. Each student was assigned a different one based on their affinity, meant to expand their individual capabilities. It caught my attention immediately. This was exactly the sort of thing I could learn from.

I leaned in, listening closely.

The instructor began explaining the steps to each of the students. Her explanation was familiar too.

The instructor broke the spell down into steps, emphasizing shapes, breath patters, and the precise order of when to do them. Every detail was laid out carefully, almost word for word with the book, and almost the same as how I’d explain my spells to Ricent.

So my teaching method wasn’t wrong. Or at least, not entirely.

I continued to listen, expecting a small difference or two in the instructor’s teaching method that would make her instructions work compared to mine. I also kept my ears open for Ricent’s turn.

One student stumbled over the chant, the sound catching awkwardly in their throat.

“Wrong,” the instructor said firmly. “You used the twelfth instead of the thirtieth. Next!”

Another tried next. Their pronunciation was clearer, almost perfect, but they hesitated at the last second, seemingly forgetting the next step.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“It’s the second with a slower forward tone,” the instructor corrected. “Next!”

A third student attempted the spell.

The fourth.

The fifth.

Eventually, Ricent’s turn came up.

“Oh, oh! I’ve learned this spell before! I can do it!” he said confidently.

The instructor was silent, almost not believing him. I did the same motion.

“Well then, let’s see it.”

Ricent took a deep breath, then, just like all the nights before… nothing happened.

“There were too many misused tones. Try again. Next!”

As expected, he failed…

But the thing was, none of the other students were successful too. All that came out of their mouths was half-baked gibberish, syllables that didn’t connect, tones that sounded wrong.

I realized then that there were just too many students struggling.

Struggling the same way Ricent had been. Mispronunciations. Inconsistent tones. Forgetting a step or two. And even when someone did manage to do the steps to the end, nothing happened.

But none of them sounded particularly frustrated. It was like this was the norm for them.

I exhaled slowly, the realization settling in.

So, it wasn’t just Ricent who had trouble learning Samonian. Nearly everyone does.

Then, the atmosphere shifted.

“Mirabelle,” the instructor called. “Memorized the steps already?”

“Hmph, of course I do,” she scoffed as her steps echoed through the arena. “Watch me!”

She drew in a breath and, seemingly without effort, began her chant.

Foreign words reached my ears, yet, so familiar.

“Oh, great flames of the skies

Bring your presence unto me

Cover the earth with your warmth

And smother the ground with your heat

[Scorching Carpet]”

The air around the arena thickened, then fire began to crackle into life. I couldn’t see what was happening inside the arena, but based on the chant and the sound, it seemed her spell had covered parts of the ground in flames.

I stood in silence. In awe even.

So this was what it was supposed to sound like.

When a chant was done correctly, it wasn’t just a series of strange syllables like I kept hearing all this time. It was a chant in the truest sense of the word, something you could feel.

Something I could hear.

“Eighty points,” the instructor said.

“Wha—?! Again?!” Mirabelle snapped. “How was that not perfect?!”

“You fumbled a little on the third step. A few more inconsistencies like that, and you’ll find the spell activating right at your feet.”

You know… this time, I agreed with Mirabelle. She did that on her first try, and she didn’t get a perfect score? Even I would’ve snapped.

If that was what eighty points spell was like, then the ninety points she earned on the second day of class weren’t just luck.

I had a feeling she might’ve had a knack for Samonian, perhaps a Talent or two that helped her adapt to it faster than others.

On one hand, I was amazed. Even beyond the Magical Talent, she had more up her sleeves. She was going to climb the ranks for sure at this point.

On the other hand, though… Ricent was screwed.

He wasn’t just going against a regular mage; he was going against a literal prodigy in the making.

Maybe, perhaps, perchance… this situation… was hopeless.

—

After classes, I walked by the courtyard absentmindedly. At this point, it might be best to leave Ricent up to his fate. Not only were things dire, but it was hopelessly dire. But, as his friend, I couldn’t do that.

At the very least, he needed to cast one spell. Just one, to show that he could put in an effort.

But how? I couldn’t understand how Samonian really worked, and the times I talked to Mirabelle as Carine almost always went nowhere. It goes kind of like:

“Mirabelle? I’ve been curious about how you cast your spells.”

“Oh, it’s easy! I just follow the chant!”

“And how do you follow this chant?”

“I mean, you just follow the steps…?”

At first, I thought she was just bad at explaining things.

But now, I realized that was her explanation.

She really was just that good; it was almost natural for her.

Maybe I should try to beg her to go easy on Ricent once more.

As I debated whether or not I should discard my dignity, I picked up the sound of a commotion.

Near the northern gate, a crowd had begun to gather. Students, academy staff, and even a few instructors were swarming the area, their attention fixed on something I couldn’t quite see from here.

Carine, too, was still in the main building, with Lionne clearing the way for me towards the exit and Eveliana by my side, so I couldn’t get her eyes to see what was going on for me from a high ground.

With nothing much to do, I decided to approach the commotion. Curiosity was better than dread, after all.

As I began my approach, their murmurs began to grow clearer and clearer.

“Why is she here?”

“Is there an event or something?”

“Do you think she’ll give me a smile?”

From the way these students were talking, it sounded like a celebrity just come through those gates.

And, unfortunately, I wasn’t far off.

The crowd parted as a flash of pure silver hair came into view. Her personal attendant moved ahead of her, firmly clearing a path as she walked, hands clasped apologetically in front of her.

“Sorry! I’m on urgent business right now! Excuse me!” she said, smiling brightly despite the situation.

My steps froze mid-air.

Princess Munith.

Again.

I need to run away, now.

But, as if sensing my presence, her eyes locked onto mine, and they lit up.

“Ah, there you are!” she said like a hunter with their prey.

Before I could even consider retreat, her personal attendant, Rene, moved with practiced efficiency, clearing a straight path through the crowd. Munith followed immediately, her pace quick yet clumsy.

Welp, there goes my chance of running.

Damn, is she good at spotting people.

“Feyt! Long time no see!” she greeted, cheerful as ever.

The courtyard fell deathly silent.

Every eye turned to us as the literal fiancée of the First Prince approached me like we were old friends. I barely had time to open my mouth before she grabbed my wrist firmly, but not roughly.

“Come on, come on!” she said excitedly. “Let’s talk!”

“A-Ah, wait—!”

And just like that, I was being pulled along.

We wove through the stunned crowd, students parting instinctively as if afraid to get in her way. Before I could process what was happening, we’d reached her carriage.

The door opened.

I was guided inside.

And the carriage rattled to life.

And thus began my second kidnapping by the royal family.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep