The male teacher went first, shooting spell after spell at Mercuria, none of which hit their target. She seemed to stave them off before he even cast, eliminating the possibility of any close calls. Most likely, she was predicting them in advance from the parts of the incantations she heard and the patterns he was already forming. Realizing this, the teacher began to hide his mouth, but even then she had no problem dodging everything. It was as he was midway through a slightly longer incantation that Mercuria shot back with a spell that was quicker to chant. It overwhelmed his, despite its length, and its shock waves struck his body with full force and made him cry out.
Mercuria closed the distance between them at once, pointing her cane at the base of his neck. It was over.
“I still managed to defeat you, even limited to a single spell.”
“Yes... That was quite something.”
“So. Can you tell me why you lost?”
“You were able to swiftly predict my magic based on my incantations, and avoid it accordingly. I believe that your final spell must have used some rather powerful words and phrases.”
“Exactly. And did aether have anything to do with it?”
“Well...”
Mercuria’s spell hadn’t been especially aether-hungry. The power required was within the levels of every student here.
“Do you understand now? Of course there is a difference between those with lots of aether and those with less. But if you underestimate an opponent based solely on their lack of it, you inadvertently open yourself up to counterattacks. Even an aether-rich magician can be trounced by the application of knowledge. And it is knowledge, rather than aether, that we ought to revere.”
She turned back to the students. “Remember this. Don’t think you are special just because you have a lot of aether. At the Institute, you will learn how to control your power precisely, and improve your knowledge and creativity. If you think you don’t need to work hard because you’ve measured in the ten thousands, you will quickly learn how wrong you are. If you were to take that attitude with you onto the battlefield, you’d be dead in a matter of seconds. All the aether in the world won’t mean a thing when you mis-incant or pick the wrong spell for your situation.”
Mercuria looked at the statue that stood in the training grounds. “See that statue? It is of Radeon, one of our kingdom’s greatest magicians. He tore away some of our western territories from the Empire and contributed much to our nation’s development. Do you know how much aether he had? It is said that two Beastly Flames would have pushed him to his limit. In modern terms, that’s equivalent to five Flamrunes.”
It really wasn’t a lot of aether at all—less than even Arcus possessed.
“And Radeon isn’t our only example of people who have left their mark, despite a lack of aether. Astia, of The Spiritual Age, made up for his weakness with knowledge and ingenuity to stand against demons and monsters alike.”
Astia’s story was a famous one. One of the three sages alongside the Mistletoe Knight, Floam, and Chime, also called Shion the Diviner, his ingenuity had allowed him to overcome many trials.
“Of course, the average size of a person’s aether reserves has gone up since then. Just as every other organism adjusts to suit its circumstances through the generations, human beings’ aetheric potential has grown to match our reliance on it. At some point, posterity will look back at our aether and think it low. So make sure you get it right. Aether is important, but knowledge and proper use is even more important.”
Mercuria turned once more to the perplexed male instructor. “You will be reevaluated.”
“Ma’am?!” The blood ran from his face. His despair was palpable. His lesson had flown right in the face of the head lecturer’s principles, and it was obvious that that would have an effect on said evaluation.
But it seemed that Mercuria was in a charitable mood. “Ordinarily, what you have disclosed to me would result in a poor evaluation, but I think it’s quite likely that many of the other lecturers hold similar views. It wouldn’t be fair if you were the only one punished.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“So I think I’ll overlook this for now. Just be more careful about what you teach our students going forward.”
“Yes, ma’am!” A sliver of hope sparked in his eyes, but Mercuria’s glare quickly had him trembling; such was the might of a state magician.
As head lecturer, she couldn’t allow anyone to think themselves better than her. If she let him off without any sort of warning, he would only go on to repeat his mistakes.
Mercuria turned her gaze to Arcus and quickly raised her eyebrows. “Say, Arcus Raytheft. You still have your Order of the Silver Cross, don’t you?”
“Oh, um... Yes.”
“Why aren’t you wearing it, then?”
“While I do wear it with formal dress, I thought it would be a bit much to wear it at the Institute.”
“Listen. An Order is an honor bestowed upon you by His Majesty. You should always wear it in formal situations, including during your time at the Institute.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“I hope not to see you without it anymore. And the one place you must wear it is when you are invited to the palace by His Royal Highness.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The other students began to murmur.
“An Order? What’s she talking about?”
“There’s no way you can get an Order at our age.”
“Actually, I did hear about a noble child getting one a while ago.”
Astonishment and doubt. But what else would he expect? Even Shinlu had said it was unprecedented to award an Order to someone so young.
“Arcus was given his Order for his service in Nadar’s recent uprising,” Mercuria explained. “As His Royal Highness’s retinue, he slew several enemies, including an entire magic troop, in service to our kingdom. It would only take two or three more achievements—no, not even that—for him to be welcomed into the peerage.”
A state magician’s claims had real weight to them. Personally, Arcus thought the part about the peerage was laying it on a little thick, but no one was questioning him now. They were staring at him, eyes rounded with fear. It was enough to make anyone self-conscious.
“That can’t be!” The instructor was first to react. “No one with aether as low as this boy could ever pull off such feats. There must be some mistake!”
It was an outburst that would only serve to worsen his situation, such was his utter disbelief.
Mercuria’s gaze grew sharp. “A mistake?”
“I’m sorry?”
“As a state magician, I cannot let that accusation remain unchallenged. You have just stated publicly that you distrust His Majesty’s judgment.”
The teacher let out a short shriek. The air around them seemed to creak, and the glass in the surrounding buildings screamed as if it were splintering. Mercuria was intensifying her aura, and she wasn’t even using any aether to do it. Even the student onlookers were turning pale. Arcus had seen this at the Guild meeting: the rigid loyalty to the king. When it came to him, a state magician couldn’t overlook even the smallest of slights.
“What have you to say for yourself?”
“Forgive me! Please! Please!”
“His Majesty would never bestow an award on one who did not deserve it.”
“I’m sorry!” The instructor was already on his knees.
What with the frightened students besides, it would be clear to anyone looking just how powerful a state magician was in both authority and raw strength.
Mercuria swept her gaze over the children. “Hear this. Arcus Raytheft is a perfect example of what can be achieved regardless of aether. During the uprising, he smashed through a new style of defensive magic with an original spell of his own. I saw the spell for myself and, though unrefined at the time, I can attest to its quality. Enough that I believe him a better candidate for the NDS than any of those who took the exam last year.”
Arcus’s face felt like it was on fire. Now she really was laying it on too thick. The instructor still looked like he wanted to voice his doubts, but a single glare from Mercuria shut him up.