Chapter 5: A Struggle with Magic

Chapter 5: A Struggle with Magic

The bells rang, signaling the start of the afternoon session. Yamauca reluctantly made his way to the theoretical magic lecture hall. The expansive classroom was filled with students, each clutching tomes and scrolls brimming with magical formulas.

Sliding into his assigned seat, Yamauca suppressed a sigh. He already knew that Aetrial Ranolf’s magic potential wasn’t particularly promising. From the novel’s memories, Aetrial had been a mediocre mage—at least when it came to conventional magic. His only true talent lay in dark magic, which, while powerful, was a double-edged sword.

The instructor, a wiry man in his sixties, began the lesson by delving into the principles of elemental magic. Yamauca tried to follow along, but the formulas on the board might as well have been hieroglyphs to him. No matter how hard he focused, the calculations and incantations for fire or water magic seemed stubbornly out of reach.

When it came time for practical demonstrations, Yamauca decided to test his capabilities. He traced the rune for a basic wind spell, channeling mana into the incantation.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, pouring more effort into the spell. A faint breeze rustled the parchment in front of him, but that was all. Around him, other students were summoning gusts of wind, miniature fireballs, and streams of water with ease.

Suppressing his frustration, Yamauca closed his eyes and tapped into the one area he knew he could excel: dark magic. He muttered a short incantation under his breath, focusing on a small shadow at the edge of his desk.

The shadow sprang to life, twisting and elongating into a small, razor-edged tendril. It writhed for a moment before Yamauca cut off the spell, letting it dissipate.

As expected, dark magic responded to him effortlessly. But instead of feeling triumphant, Yamauca scowled.

“Great,” he muttered to himself. “Out of all the types of magic, I’m stuck with this.”

Dark magic was powerful, no doubt about it. Its destructive capabilities far surpassed those of elemental magic, making it a force to be reckoned with in combat. But it came with significant drawbacks.

For one, dark magic consumed a disproportionate amount of mana. A single shadow tendril drained more energy than three basic fireballs combined. It also lacked versatility. While other magics had auxiliary spells for healing, shielding, or utility, dark magic was almost entirely offensive.

“Useless in the long run,” Yamauca grumbled.

He slumped in his seat as the lecture continued, the instructor now droning on about the applications of light magic. The discussion only served to highlight the deficiencies of dark magic further, and Yamauca’s annoyance grew.

Trying to distract himself, he began humming softly—a tune from Earth that had been wildly popular in his past life. It was something upbeat and catchy, a melody that had once been stuck in his head for days.

He didn’t even realize he was doing it until several heads turned in his direction.

“What... is that song?” a girl nearby whispered to her friend.

“I don’t know, but it’s... enchanting,” the other replied.

Realizing he was drawing attention, Yamauca quickly clamped his mouth shut and stared at his notes as though nothing had happened.

The murmurs eventually died down, and the lesson resumed.

Yamauca sighed inwardly.

“Great job, idiot,” he thought. “Now I’ve got people looking at me. Just what I needed.”

He made a mental note to keep his humming under control. The last thing he wanted was to become the center of attention for something as trivial as a song.

As the lesson ended and the students filed out of the room, Yamauca lingered for a moment, reflecting on his situation.

His lack of aptitude for normal magic was going to be a problem, but for now, he had no choice but to make do with what he had. Dark magic, with all its drawbacks, was still better than being entirely powerless.

As he packed up his things and left the classroom, Yamauca resolved to find a way to work around his limitations. If he couldn’t rely on versatility, then he’d make his destructive power so overwhelming that no one would dare challenge him.

Still, the frustration lingered. “I just wanted to live quietly,” he muttered under his breath. “Why does this world insist on making things so difficult?”

As he made his way toward the next lecture, he caught snippets of conversation from other students.

Yamauca’s pace quickened as he tried to put distance between himself and the gossip. He didn’t need any more rumors spreading about him—not when he was already walking a tightrope of suspicion.

For now, his focus had to remain on survival, and that meant staying under the radar as much as possible. But as the day continued, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his offhand humming had already started something he wasn’t prepared to handle.