The afternoon was for practical training. In a vast, open square resembling a training ground, mages from different departments gathered under their respective mentors, each class occupying its own area.
Some practiced meditation, others honed their spellcasting. Groups of mages chatted quietly, careful not to disturb those around them.
Thunder glanced around, impressed by the academy's resources and the discipline of its students. Magic of all elements filled the air, yet everyone remained focused.
Beatrice, still fuming from lunch, was unleashing her signature spell—lightning bolts—on an unrecognizable target. Each strike crackled with fury, mirroring her mood.
After a relentless barrage, she finally exhaled, her anger slightly appeased.
"Big sis, look!" Eric's eyes widened as he pointed at the scorched target, his voice trembling with excitement.
Thunder turned and saw a massive number flashing on the device: **192**.
What did that mean?
"Your combat power actually broke 190?!" Eric gasped.
"Hah!" Beatrice's frustration melted into smug satisfaction.
"What *is* that thing? What does it do?" Thunder whispered to Professor Maria.
The professor, radiating warmth with her usual serene smile, explained softly, "It's an alchemical device that measures a mage or warrior's combat power and destructive capability. The higher the number, the stronger the attack. A score below 100 means you can learn first-tier spells. Between 100 and 200, second-tier, and so on. Understand?"
"So Beatrice is almost ready for third-tier spells?" Thunder asked.
Third-tier spells marked the threshold of an intermediate mage—a barrier that stopped eight out of ten mages from advancing further.
"Yes. A few days ago, her score was only around 180. I wonder what caused this sudden leap?" Maria's gaze flickered toward Thunder.
"Natural talent!" Thunder grinned, giving a thumbs-up.
Eric, green with envy, tested his own power. His **Lightning Strike** averaged below 180.
"Why is *your* lazy ass improving so fast while I'm stuck?" Eric whined.
Beatrice preened—until a rowdy group from the Fire Magic class, led by Kyle and Frank, swaggered over.
"Who the hell hit 190?" Frank yelled, only to scoff at Eric's lingering score of 178.
"That's *mine*. Beatrice's already disappeared," Eric sighed.
"No way." Kyle squinted at Beatrice.
"Since when do I need to prove anything to *you*?" She sneered. "Go practice your trashy fire spells somewhere else."
"Professor, is it true?" Frank turned to Maria.
The beautiful woman simply nodded, stepping forward to pat Beatrice's head. "Keep practicing. Let's see who becomes an intermediate mage first!"
"Damn, Beatrice, what did you *eat* for lunch?!" The fire mages gasped.
Big mistake.
The mention of lunch made Beatrice's triumphant smirk vanish. A bolt of lightning struck the ground at Kyle's feet. **"Get lost before I turn you all to charcoal!"**
Everyone recoiled. *Must be that time of the month*, Kyle and Frank thought, exchanging a glance.
"Fine! The academy tournament's in a few days!" Frank shouted while backing away. **"Let's see if you're really that strong!"**
Thunder chuckled at their antics—until he realized Maria, Beatrice, and Eric were all staring at him.
"...What?" He shifted uncomfortably.
**"The tournament!"** Eric burst out laughing, slinging an arm around Thunder. "Bro, your timing is *perfect*."
"What are you talking about?" Thunder shook him off, looking to Maria for answers. Even Beatrice was eyeing him eagerly.
"Every year, the academy holds an internal tournament—individual and team divisions—to assess students' progress. The top three win prizes," Maria explained, her eyes curving into crescents.
"What's that got to do with *me*?"
"Until now, our class could only compete individually. Team battles require *three* members," Eric said excitedly. "With you here, we finally qualify! First place gets ten days of unrestricted access to the academy's highest-level library—plus a fat reward!"
Team matches followed a best-of-three format. Without three members, participation was impossible.
"What about the individual division? Couldn't Beatrice win?" Thunder asked.
Beatrice's face reddened. "I—I wasn't *that* strong last year!"
"She didn't even make top ten," Eric whispered—earning a swift kick from his sister.
**Will Thunder become their secret weapon—or will the tournament expose his lack of skill?**