Prologue Story

There were a few changes that came to me as a second-year student.

The biggest change, of course, was related to magic.

First, I became able to use teleportation.

Originally, I could teleport objects, but now I could move myself.

Ah, not through barriers, but purely with teleportation magic.

Still, it was too much for me to transport other people.

And there was one more thing; I was now able to create a “passageway,” one of the abilities I had aimed to master with my space-time magic.

Maybe because I used a gate as a model, the passageway I created was a flat circle and a deep black color.

The basic principle of the passageway, as I understood it, was to connect one space to another.

To explain further, I could create a passageway here and another one over there.

Then, by going through this passageway, I could come out through the other one.

It felt like, “Opening a door to another world~.”

However, the passageway I had only recently managed to create was very fragile.

The area was only the size of a needle’s eye, and the distance I could connect was only as long as a finger.

It also broke easily with a small shock.

But the fact that I succeeded in magic at all was meaningful in itself, so I didn’t mind.

My magic was growing steadily.

Yet, when there are smooth things, there are also things that aren’t so smooth.

Not long after I began learning martial arts for magical combat, it was determined that I had almost no talent for martial arts or other physical abilities.

At best, I was a bit below average?

That was a noticeable flaw for a combat magician.

It seemed I wasn’t particularly gifted in combat.

The day I first heard that, I accepted it calmly.

I even thought it was only natural.

Of course, it would be. I’m just an ordinary person.

But my friends reacted with disbelief at first when they heard it.

I think they mistakenly believed I could do anything because I always showed excellent skills in magic.

But really, I’m not that kind of person.

I wasn’t completely devoid of combat ability, but most of it was limited to magic.

Things like flexibility of thought, adaptability, response ability, reflexes, and so on.

Additionally, I had been putting a lot of effort into developing my synesthetic abilities lately.

Teacher Min had suggested it, saying it was essential to use illusion magic across an entire space.

I was even introduced to a related virtual system.

According to them, when it comes to talent in magic alone, I’m one of the few who show promising potential in combat.

I was quite good at applying techniques, and because of my sharp eyesight, my perception and awareness were quick.

But as for physical abilities, I was… not terrible, but only average.

My magic handling was perfect, but my body couldn’t keep up.

Friends who had started martial arts training a few months later than I did were actually doing better than me.

After the final psychological evaluation, the overall conclusion was that I wasn’t well-suited for combat.

Even if I joined a battle, I’d play a supportive or defensive role.

It was exactly in line with my own thoughts, so I accepted it without much resistance.

All of my friends agreed too.

Of course, since I was still just a child, it wasn’t something set in stone.

It was only a matter of natural ability, and for someone as young as I was, it was common not to fully realize one’s talents.

Both my teacher and I knew that well, so we didn’t waste effort by giving up.

Also, as we advanced to second-year, we naturally had to part with a few people.

We weren’t completely separated, but… for instance, Yoo-jung unnie and In-ho oppa, who had been in our same Class I, were now placed in different level-based classes.

And the third-year seniors, including Eun-hee unnie and Seonghu oppa, graduated from high school.

Seonghu oppa, as I’d heard before, entered college to pursue a teaching career, and Eun-hee unnie was appointed as a guard at our school.

As a result, we hardly met as often as we used to.

That’s right, Eun-hee unnie and Seonghu oppa started dating this spring.

It was a bit bittersweet, but it was a good thing.

And lastly… the thing that shocked us the most was this.

When we became second-years, we were split into different classes.

It was unavoidable, but we were split in an oddly unfair way.

Everyone was placed in Class 3, while I was the only one in Class 1.

What is this unfairness?

Still, since I couldn’t do anything about the class divisions, I quickly let it go.

It was the others, not me, who fussed and fretted about our class separation.

The day we first found out about the split, there was complete chaos.

Min-hee was hugging me and crying… I mean, why all the fuss just because we were in different classes?

Even now, several months later, my friends occasionally show regretful expressions.

“I’m off to school!”

“Okay, take care.”

And just like that, we became second-years.

☆

I parted ways with In-ha at the classroom door.

After gently pushing the reluctant In-ha into the next class, I entered the classroom, set my bag down, and threw the windows open wide.

The breeze blowing in felt refreshing.

Sitting at my desk, I closed my eyes briefly and enjoyed the wind.

I found myself regretting that I wasn’t seated closer to the window.

Then, I heard footsteps in the hallway, and the classroom’s front door slid open with a squeak.

For a moment, I thought In-ha couldn’t resist and came to visit, but I quickly realized it wasn’t her from the sound of heels.

Turning to check, I saw it was the homeroom teacher.

“Oh? Eun-ha, you’re here already?”

Our homeroom teacher this year, like last year, was a woman.

As I was pulling out my books from my bag, I paused and bowed my head.

“Hello, teacher.”

“Yes, hello. Do you come at this time every day?”

“Yes.”

She looked around the room and then asked,

“Is it you, Eun-ha, who opens the windows every morning for ventilation?”

“Yes…”

“Oh, I see. So you’re the one who’s been airing out the classroom every morning.

I knew you were a good kid, but I didn’t realize you were so diligent too. Good girl.”

The teacher came over and patted my head.

I lowered my head, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me.

I counted as a model student.

Being shy, I tended to follow the teacher’s words and school rules well.

Model students usually earned the teacher’s trust and affection.

But receiving praise this openly was quite embarrassing.

“Well then, I’ll give my good Eun-ha a little present.”

The teacher took something from her pocket and handed it to me.

It was candy and chocolate, wrapped in plastic.

“It’s just for you, so shh, keep it a secret from the other kids, okay?”

She whispered to me as if talking to a child.

Although I knew it was childish, it always felt good to receive praise.

I clutched the chocolate and candy in my hand and bowed my head.

“Thank you.”

“Yes. Keep reading lots of books.

If you read a lot, you’ll grow up to be a great person.

I feel like you might be the reading champion this year, Eun-ha.”

I fumbled with an awkward feeling.

The teacher left the classroom with a smile.

Only then did I let out a sigh.

Really, what’s my mental age?

But I suppose a shy personality isn’t something that changes easily.

Because of this, I feel tense whenever I have a one-on-one conversation with the teacher.

I glanced toward the hallway, then opened the book I had taken out and began reading.

As time passed, the classroom filled up with students.

The kids in my class chatted noisily with their friends.

Almost no one came up to talk to me.

If they spoke to me, it was only when they needed something.

By this point, no matter how young you are, everyone knows.

We understand each other’s types, who would likely get along with whom.

And I, as always, was the type to be alone.

I was shy and painfully quiet around unfamiliar people.

Because of that, hardly anyone approached me.

Even fewer tried to speak to me on purpose.

But honestly, I found it very comfortable.

Comfortable and familiar.

My friends worry that I might feel lonely without them, but that’s not the case at all.

Sure, it might be a bit disappointing or lonely that I couldn’t talk with them as often as before.

But the fact that I was alone in this noisy class wasn’t lonely in itself.

Since I’m so bad at dealing with people, it was actually more comfortable that no one tried talking to me.

Why do so many people think that being alone always means being lonely?

It’s different for everyone.

In the past, I used to feel lonely sometimes because I didn’t have any friends, but now I had friends I got along with.

So, being alone didn’t make me feel lonely or bother me at all.

However, I do know that, from an outsider’s perspective, I come across as an unlikable type.

Always alone, quiet, only responding curtly to others, and sometimes my gaze seems so sharp it looks like I’m glaring.

It’s kind of troublesome that there are kids who talk behind my back because of that…

“She’s been reading that book this whole time. So boring.”

“What’s the use of just being good at studying if you can’t even use magic properly?”

“Honestly, isn’t Eun-ha kind of gloomy?”

“Yeah, totally gloomy.”

Um, excuse me, I can hear you.

Reading my book, I winced slightly at the prickle in my chest.

They might not know it, but gossiping like that… I can hear everything.

‘Well, nothing I can do about it. This is just how my personality is.’

I might be timid but diligent, so to teachers, I seem like an exemplary student and earn their favor.

But among kids my age, I’m seen as quiet and gloomy, which easily rubs them the wrong way.

Recently, it seemed like the voices talking behind my back had gotten a bit louder.

I knew why.

Some people cheer for those who are weaker than they are, but others look down on them instead.

Kids were no different.

‘Well, some people stay immature even as adults.’

I’m diligent enough that teachers think well of me.

It’s the same when I’m in class, and especially during magic lessons, I never doze off and take notes diligently.

I also read a lot.

It’s enough to be called a model student.

It’s never intentional, though.

The truth is, I genuinely enjoy studying.

The class material is so interesting that I never feel sleepy.

The spell magic we started learning as second-years was particularly fascinating.

Of course, I’d already learned some spell magic before entering this school.

But here, we not only learn how to use magic, but also interpret its trigger words and incantations.

Spell magic is incredibly diverse.

In short, spell magic is magic activated by controlling mana through text, and it’s done in a wide variety of languages.

Even basic magic like “Light” translates to “빛” in Korean, meaning “light.”

Depending on the country where it was created, the language used might be Latin, English, Chinese characters, and so on.

There are even spells created by mixing English, Latin, and Chinese characters.

In higher levels of spell magic, the incantations are so complex that interpreting them becomes academically challenging.

That’s why they teach us to interpret them.

How this word affects mana, how this incantation aids the mental imagery needed to control mana… that sort of thing.

Of course, you can still activate magic by shouting the translated words.

But the power and completeness of the spell are greater when you use the original language.

Spell magic is academically challenging, especially at higher levels, but it’s also the most commonly used magic among magicians.

After all, once you understand how to control mana and know the trigger words and incantations, you can use it.

It’s also the easiest magic for kids to learn when they first start.

More than anything, it’s the type of magic with the largest repertoire.

For someone like me, who wants to accomplish a lot with magic, it couldn’t be more interesting.

But despite studying so hard, I get mocked by some kids.

The reason is simple.

“She really tries hard.”

“Hey, just cut her some slack. What can she do? She goes to Daehyun but can’t use magic yet because her mana control is terrible.”

“Right. It’s been a while since she started learning spell magic, and she still can’t use any of it.”

Well, it’s like that.

I guess you could say that, to hide my abilities, I purposely pretend to struggle with controlling mana, and now I’ve been labeled a failure.

My mana control is terrible?

Not even close!

If there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s my mana control and mana detection.

I might not compare to an adult magician, but among my peers, I’d stand out.

But to keep my abilities hidden, I had no choice but to act this way.

It was an unavoidable decision.

At first, I thought I could pretend not to use magic only at the beginning of the semester, then start using it properly halfway through.

But I gave up on that idea the moment I saw a kid successfully cast magic and show off.

The kids’ magic skills were much lower than I’d expected.

I guess being around talented kids had raised my standards too high.

They managed to succeed, but their light was dim, and their mana was poorly structured, unsteady, short-lived, and took a long time to cast.

I compared their magic to mine in detail when I last used it.

Compared to them, I was on a whole different level.

Then, I abandoned my plan to pretend I was struggling to cast magic.

No matter how slowly I cast magic, my mana control was so exceptional that my magic would still stand out.

I sighed and decided to only use it properly during exams.

By third year, there would be kids who practiced more diligently, I was sure.

Then I would follow behind, as if I had only recently awakened my talent.

That would be enough.

Still, I let out a real sigh.

Having been isolated so many times due to my shy personality, I had developed a bit of immunity to the whispers behind my back.

That didn’t mean I was entirely unaffected… but I was at least grateful that the kids were acting like kids.

If they’d been more mature, they would’ve easily realized that someone this behind wouldn’t have been accepted into Daehyun.

That said, I hadn’t completely given up on showing off my magic clumsily.

Lately, I was practicing my mana control intensely.

If I could raise my mana control ability higher, higher, and even higher… I might be able to pretend I was as bad as those kids.

To be honest, it stung a little to be laughed at.

Just a little.

But it was impossible to manage for now.

No matter how slow or awkward I made my magic, it was noticeably different from the other kids’.

The kids might not notice, but the teacher would.

So, during magic practice, I always break the magic right before completing it.

Unless they’re a detection magician, no one would notice that small detail.

Our homeroom teacher wasn’t a detection magician, so I could practice enough in simulations.

“Hey, no talking during class.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

The kids responded calmly to the teacher’s scolding.

I sighed quietly to myself.