The students beneath the stage were all itching to give it a try, eyes blazing with anticipation.

Loewen absentmindedly ran his slender, pale fingers along the smooth wooden shaft of the brand-new wand he’d received that morning, his touch gradually warming the polished surface.

His gaze was lowered, fixed on the two glass cups set before him. After adjusting his breathing ever so slightly, he slowly pointed the tip of his wand at the cup filled with water.

As if performing some sacred ritual, Loewen first closed his eyes and meditated for a moment, quietly picturing himself as the magical heroine from his little sister’s favorite cartoon — Bala La the Little Sorceress.

Then, he cracked one eye open, muttered the spell under his breath, and mimicked their instructor’s demonstration, carefully casting the spell at the cup.

The water’s surface remained perfectly still. Not even the faintest ripple.

Loewen wasn’t discouraged. As if determined to prove something to himself, he repeated the spell over and over again, directing his wand at the cup with persistence.

Up in the front row, Qixiu frowned hard enough to leave wrinkles. Her brows were knitted, her entire posture tense with focus.

She, too, had been practicing for a while now. But every time the water droplet barely floated past the lip of the cup, the spell’s effect would fizzle out.

The droplet would fall, helpless against gravity, landing with a soft plop on the table — never making it into the second cup which was barely ten centimeters away.

Over time, a small pool of water had already begun to gather on her desk.

Looking around the room, most of the other students weren’t doing much better. There were only a handful who could precisely and flawlessly transfer the water using the spell — a rare sight indeed. And among those few was Felix, who honestly hadn’t expected to be one of them.

With each spell he chanted, the water droplets lined up in the air like a string of tiny ants, crawling obediently toward the empty cup, one after another.

The training was going so smoothly, it soon felt dull. Felix found himself glancing sideways, sneaking peeks at Loewen’s progress.

Loewen, unfortunately, was still accomplishing nothing. The water in his cup remained stubbornly unmoved.

Felix’s gaze lingered for a moment on the perfect curve of Loewen’s jawline before he snapped back to attention, sighing as he turned back to his own cup and kept practicing out of sheer boredom.

And then—something odd happened.

He blinked. A strange realization dawned on him.

For a brief moment, he’d zoned out… and completely forgotten to chant the spell. Yet the droplets were still moving. They continued to float in the air, neat and orderly, as if nothing had changed.

Felix froze for several seconds. His mind was blank.

He instinctively loosened his focus. Instantly, the water droplets stopped moving — but they didn’t fall. Instead, they hung suspended in midair, frozen like a paused scene in a painting.

Felix stared at the line of floating droplets, a chill running down his spine, quickly replaced by a bubbling sense of something thrilling and inexplicable. Without even thinking, he quietly set his wand down on the desk. His eyes fixed intently on the cup as his nerves grew increasingly taut.

The water in the glass gave a low, bubbling sound — and then, unbelievably, began to boil.

Pure white bubbles churned and popped inside the transparent glass. Steam curled upward and dissolved into the air.

Felix’s gaze lifted and followed the mist.

The pale vapor twisted and danced, responding precisely to the pull of his thoughts, shifting into shapes and patterns of his will.

Was this… water element control?

That’s it? That easy???

From beside him came a soft, almost inaudible sigh. Felix’s attention snapped back toward Loewen.

Loewen was rubbing his sore wrist, then casually tossed his wand onto the desk and pulled a book out from beneath it. He flipped it open without a second glance at the cups.

“Miss Flenqi, aren’t you going to keep practicing?” Felix asked under his breath.

Loewen, eyes still glued to the pages, lazily replied without looking up, “It’s boring. I’m done.”

Garbage magic. A waste of life.

Felix hesitated for a moment before trying to persuade him. “Maybe you should give it another try. You never know—you might just pull it off.”

A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corner of Loewen’s lips. “It’s no use.”

Before he enrolled at the academy, Lady Flenqi had personally taken him back to the Divine Sanctum one last time. Yet even the Sacred Spring refused to reflect his image—a sign that he was born talentless. Years had passed, but nothing had changed.

Inwardly, Loewen sighed a long and weary sigh. So much for transmigrating to another world. He had foolishly hoped he’d get a golden cheat code like those protagonists in stories. But no. He was stuck with the same trash settings he started with.

There was nothing left to do. It seemed he could only follow his original plan—to walk this dark, thorny path to the very end.

Time slipped by quickly. The class was about to end when Ms. Rossi tapped her wand twice against a glass cup—ding, ding—and the murmured chants filling the room fell into silence.

“Is there anyone who’d like to volunteer for a demonstration?”

The classroom remained dead quiet.

Suddenly, a hand shot up.

“Well then, let’s have this student go first,” Ms. Rossi’s face broke into a warm, pleased smile.

Oran Flynn withdrew his hand and rose gracefully to his feet. He walked to the front with an ease that seemed almost choreographed, lightly tapping his wand against the glass cup as he fluently recited a spell.

A perfectly clear droplet of water floated slowly from the surface, drifting weightlessly to another cup, then falling neatly inside with a soft plop.

“Absolutely flawless!” Ms. Rossi beamed and began clapping.

The room burst into applause and praise.

“No wonder he’s the class president—he’s good at everything!”

“I wish I were that amazing…”

Oran smiled sweetly, offering a noble’s bow to the class before casually returning to his seat.

“Anyone else want to give it a try?” Ms. Rossi encouraged.

From the back row, a loud voice suddenly called out, “Ms. Rossi! I suggest the next demonstration be done by our top scorer in the mid-year tests—Miss Flenqi! Everyone’s dying to see it!”

The students in the front rows turned to look curiously. The voice had come from none other than Gerard, the student who had, rather embarrassingly, ranked dead last on that same test.

Ms. Rossi’s eyes lit up with interest. “Oh? Ranked first? Where is this Miss Flenqi?”

A ripple of murmurs and whispers spread through the classroom. Several students even held their breath, watching in shock as Loewen quietly stood up from his seat.

Gerard grinned maliciously, clearly savoring the moment, as though he were about to watch a spectacular show.

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and he shot a glance full of warning at Gerard’s gloating face.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Rossi,” Loewen said honestly. “I haven’t learned this spell yet.”

Ms. Rossi blinked and kindly replied, “That’s quite all right. You may sit back down. As for the student who made the suggestion—you can come up and demonstrate in her place.”

Gerard, who had been lazily leaning back with his legs crossed, immediately sat up straight like a spring-loaded toy. His neighbors burst out laughing.

Throwing them an annoyed glare, Gerard stood up and swaggered toward the podium.

Though he’d accidentally dragged himself into the mess, he didn’t think of it as bad luck. Quite the opposite—he saw it as a golden opportunity.

After all, he’d only just learned the water control spell and had been practicing it quite smoothly. He figured his skills weren’t much worse than Oran’s. If he could show off here, maybe he could finally shake off the shame of his last-place ranking.

Suppressing a smirk, Gerard pointed his wand at the glass cup and began chanting.

He finished the spell—yet nothing happened.

Gerard froze. This wasn’t how it had gone when he practiced earlier.

He took a deep breath and tried again. Still no reaction. Refusing to give up, he attempted it a third time.

Murmurs and shifting sounds began to stir in the classroom.

Felix sat quietly, gaze locked onto the cup on the podium, his eyes unblinking. With nothing but sheer will, he kept the surface of the water perfectly still, blocking Gerard’s attempts without so much as a ripple.

The laughter and whispered mockery grew louder. Ms. Rossi gently hinted that it was fine if Gerard stepped down to continue practicing later.

But Gerard, stubborn as ever, suddenly dug in his heels and kept forcing the spell, determined to succeed at least once.

And then—it happened.

The water in the cup suddenly shot upward like a sprayfish’s stream, smacking him straight in the eyes.

Gerard yelped, shutting his eyes in pain and stumbling backward in a graceless heap.

One of his legs smashed against the podium, knocking the glass cup over. The water in the cup spilled out with a loud splash, landing squarely on Gerard’s lap—making it look exactly like he’d just wet himself.

The classroom erupted in laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls in utter chaos.

Somewhere in the middle of the noise, the bell signaling the end of class chimed serenely.

Felix’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. He turned to Loewen and said casually, “Class is over. Let’s go.”