The perception of time is something that differs according to individuals and species. Elves could live up to seven hundred years and perceived a week as a human or halfling day, while dwarves perceived four and gnomes two. However, one thing is certain, the two hours of "Manual Versatility" css passed much more quickly than those of "Theory of Magic", regardless of the species' perception.

  The longer the life expectancy, the slower the raw mass of course information is assimited. The elves and dwarves ended up with a pretty bad headache and the others simply looked as though they had spent a sleepless night.

  It is therefore with a tired face, a walk devoid of energy, and a stack of course sheets that Princess Syria joined her three comrades, just returning from a practical css.

  — Whoa, you really look awful, remarked Loyd.

  — Save… me…, the princess asked weakly.

  Arimélia then joined her friend, who pressed her forehead against her chest.

  — I don't want... I don't want... I don't want to be a magician anymore, she added, groaning.

  The half-dragoness took Syria in her arms, then passed her right hand behind the princess's head to gently caress it, in order to comfort her.

  — It will be alright, it's over now, Arimélia reassured.

  Following this action, the princess began to calm down.

  — Until tomorrow, at least, added Elwyn, recalling without much compassion a terrible truth, which made the princess moan again about her fate.

  — I don't want to come back... I don't want any more magic... I want to go home...

  — Was it really that terrible? asked Loyd.

  Syria straightened up and left Arimélia’s arms to join Loyd with heavy steps, before handing him her handwritten sheets.

  — You can't even imagine...

  Loyd took the sheets and began to read their content. As he turned each page, his brain began to saturate from the overload of information. The more he read, the more he forgot the previous content.

  Seeing the empty look of his nephilim comrade, Elwyn cast a gnce at these sheets.

  — They are just vocabury words with their definition. Putting precise words on what you want to do is the very basis of magic, remarked the young boy.

  — What would a non-magician know about magic? asked the princess, somewhat annoyed by Elwyn's nonchant behavior.

  — Because I have read the magic books of my adoptive mother and witnessed many spells that she cast. I also copied vocabury and definitions to improve my understanding of the world and words, as well as to progress in my writing, he replied simply, not even taking into account the change in the princess's tone.

  — You're not human, that's why it's so easy for you, replied the princess to reassure herself about her situation.

  Involuntarily, this remark, targeting only the young boy, also affected Arimélia.

  “I'm not so different from him… So I'm… too… different from the others… Do I really have a pce here? …“

  Elwyn's gaze and face then became serious and his voice took on a reproachful tone.

  — I am half-human and I am not in the special css by chance or luck. Since I was very little, I have worked hard, every day, to get here. It is my efforts and my will that have brought me to where I am today. Magic is demanding, indeed, but you can't even imagine the number of people who would wish to be in your pce despite that.

  Since he was very little, the young nephilim of the Domain of Life had had this attraction for magic, and even today, it is still present. He has just long since resigned himself to not being able to use it.

  This fleeting change in Elwyn's attitude surprised everyone and made the princess reflect on her own attitude.

  _________________________

  As the st two hours of css were to be held outdoors, the students were asked to deposit their course sheets in their room. Once this task was completed, they had to go to the arena's locker room to change before gathering in front of the academy's entrance.

  Under the academy's entrance arch stood Aldric, a man in his thirties, retively tall and imposing, with a robust and muscur build. He was entirely cd in an impressive scale armor. His massive cuirass, made up of numerous overpping metallic scales, protected his torso and shoulders, while his arms were covered with matching armguards and shoulder pads. His legs were enveloped in thick and sturdy greaves. His short blonde hair was slightly disheveled, complemented by a fine mustache that accompanied his beard. His brown eyes were expressive and kind, and his face wore a warm smile, giving him a jovial appearance.

  Facing this imposing warrior were the hundred students who looked as frail as twigs.

  — Well! Dear students, it is now time to stretch your legs, after having sat for so long in front of your books and other papers. Between fighting or fleeing, you will have to choose, but whichever your final decision, in both cases, if you want to survive, you will need a robust and enduring body. Never forget, a strong body improves confidence and self-esteem. A strong body improves your performance as a magician. And finally, a strong body improves your attractiveness and increases your chances of finding love, decred loudly the somewhat over-enthusiastic professor.

  A heavy silence fell. The students knew very well how things were going to unfold next, another hell. But this time, it would be the body that would be severely tested. However, a doubt began to surface concerning the number of students to be managed by a single professor. To remedy this, Professor Luth and Professor Sylvia, in exercise attire, arrived alongside Aldric.

  — For the "Physical Conditioning" css, you will have to divide yourselves into three groups. Each professor will take care of one group with a specific exercise, before rotating after twenty minutes. I will supervise you on a running session around the arena, added Aldric.

  — As for me, I will take care of your muscle strengthening, continued Luth.

  — And finally, as for me, it will be your coordination that will be tested, concluded Sylvia, showcasing a ring set with a purple crystal carved like a precious stone, on her left index finger.

  Elwyn immediately recognized this crystal, simir to that of Ophélia’s wand.

  "Ethérite… That promises… We'll have to avoid spells…"

  Ethérite is a crystal used as a catalyst by magicians. It forms when ether crystallizes in an environment of high density of that element or when it is artificially maniputed to subject it to high pressure. By exploiting ethérite, a magician can open a micro-extrapnar portal to the Ethereal Pne, thus allowing him to draw directly the ether necessary for his spells. This catalyst facilitates the casting of rge-scale spells with minimal effort to gather and attract the ether to oneself. However, its use requires a high concentration and mastery of the ether in order to avoid any risk of magical catastrophe.

  The other students, also recognizing the crystal, began to feel cold sweats at the thought of the coordination exercise.

  — Alright! Now, form three groups and get moving! ordered Aldric, after cpping his hands to rouse the bewildered students.

  This order then made the tter react vigorously, and, in a certain haste, they began to form the requested mixed groups.

  During this chaotic moment, a cold draft blew behind Elwyn, Loyd and Arimélia, prompting them to turn around to discover its source. They then realized that Professor Ezekiel had arrived suddenly, equipped with a long and thin sword at his belt, featuring a curved hilt and pommel.

  — You three, come with me, the professor ordered them.

  The students closest to the group also turned towards Ezekiel's voice and looked at each other in astonishment at his presence.

  — What? But why? Do we have a special css with you? asked Arimélia, visibly the only person surprised in the group.

  — Indeed, otherwise, this css risks being very soporific for you. It would be a shame to waste your time on childish exercises. Especially since some of you possess powers that are among the most dangerous to master, he replied, carefully fixing his gaze on Arimélia during her st sentence.

  The half-dragoness shuddered at the contact of the professor's piercing and icy gaze, who was not particurly in a bad mood.

  — Very well, she replied weakly, her gaze turned towards the ground.

  The trio of particur elements then followed Ezekiel out of the academy, under the astonished gaze of Princess Syria and the annoyed gaze of her cousin Lorian.

  — Professor, one moment please, intervened the tter.

  Ezekiel sighed, before turning towards the disruptive element.

  — What do you want?

  — Professor, you just said that this css was too simple. Allow me then to join you.

  The professor sighed once again, but with annoyance, in the face of this ck of respect towards their educational system.

  — You have nothing particur to assert to me. You are a magician, that's already something.

  — But, Professor, I also want to become stronger. If you take the crow's head, then I don't see why I couldn't come as well.

  In appearance, Elwyn and Lorian had a simir build, slender but muscur. However, as a half-Entity belonging to the Domain of Life, Elwyn dispyed a perfectly proportioned silhouette and much denser muscuture. As for Loyd, also a half-Entity, but a bit older, he surpassed the other two in height, shoulder width, and muscuture.

  Ezekiel's gaze turned towards Elwyn, who then understood that things were not going to go the way he would have liked them to.

  "He wants to settle it with me… Idiot without a survival instinct… You’re the type to step on a dragon’s tail and then compin about getting burned…"

  — Professor Ezekiel, I have no interest in confronting him. It would only be a waste of time and energy. If he wants to fight, he can face Loyd. I'm sure he would be delighted, replied Elwyn simply.

  The aforementioned nephilim of the Domain of War nodded affirmatively.

  — You say that because you are a coward. You are afraid to face me and lose your special css privilege for this course, retorted Lorian.

  Elwyn then turned towards Lorian and waved his right index finger from left to right as a sign of refusal.

  — Sorry for you, but provocation and insults do not work on Entities like me. They are the preferred weapons of the weak and the incompetent. Besides, if I beat you, I will gain nothing in return. It is therefore a waste of time and energy for me.

  Lorian clenched his fists and his jaw in discontent, his face showing a very displeased expression.

  — Hey, blondie. Elwyn already put you to your knees yesterday and you did nothing about it, so stop wasting everyone's time, added Loyd.

  "I wonder how long it will take before he loses it, that one…"

  — Tsk! Yesterday, I was caught off guard. I won't be fooled a second time by his trickery, retorted Lorian.

  This dismal spectacle had obviously attracted the attention of all the first-year students, and the professors preferred to keep a certain distance to observe the evolution of the situation.

  Arimélia, who had taken a step back behind Elwyn, was also observing the situation; however, she was worried about the turn that events were taking. Dragons, creatures passionate about fighting among themselves or against beings of equivalent power, had developed a particur instinct that allowed them to assess the strength of their opponents. The half-dragoness clearly saw the difference in strength between the two young boys.

  — Prince Lorian, I beg you, you are not a match for him, do not face him, implored Arimélia, hoping that it would help.

  Having heard that familiar and particurly unpleasant, if not horrible, voice, Prince Lorian turned towards the half-dragoness and gave her a particurly disgusted look.

  — How dare you speak to me? Hideous creature! Go back to rot in your wild nd, instead of subjecting me to the sight of your monstrous head, he replied in a virulent tone, accompanied by a look full of hatred and contempt.

  The contemptuous words and disdainful looks of the prince towards Arimélia were not rare, especially when she was near him. However, he generally took care not to express them openly in public. Although some people were shocked by his words, most knew of the deep animosity of the inhabitants of the kingdom of Hercor towards the dragonoids. The tter are regurly subjected to attacks, with dragons located not far from their coastal borders, just above the sea.

  In the face of these words, the blood of Princess Syria began to boil, but she had to hold herself back from intervening and striking her cousin. As for Arimélia, she could only lower her head in the face of his hostility. Loyd, meanwhile, merely gave Lorian a withering look.

  The words did not affect Elwyn; he did not care at all. For him, words only had force or weight if one gave them that, which was not the case for the young nephilim. However, he knew that others were different and could therefore be affected more or less strongly.

  "I cannot run away… I must therefore fight… Will he have a body robust and enduring enough to take my life lesson? We shall see…"

  Elwyn finally turned his gaze towards Loyd, the person most capable of arbitrating this kind of situation.

  "A conflict, great! He’d better give that filthy degenerate prince a good beating..."

  — Very well, let us face each other. But know that you will regret all the words you have spoken against me, Loyd, and Arimélia.

  — Perfect, I will knock you off your branch, the Crow.

  Elwyn's gaze then turned towards Ezekiel.

  — Professor, may I give him a lesson?

  — As you wish, as long as he does not die.

  — What would be the point of giving him a lesson if he cannot integrate it in his lifetime?

  Meanwhile, Loyd moved between the two young boys to prepare the arbitration and the rules of the duel. He then extended his arms in the direction of the fighters and a red thread came to connect their hearts to his hands.

  — Very well, for this duel, you will not be allowed to use any form of powers. Only a physical confrontation. If you want a weapon, I will provide it. Do you have any requests or particur conditions?

  A malicious smile appeared on Lorian's face.

  — If the Crow loses, he will have to permanently swap his pce with me for this course.

  Loyd turned his head towards Elwyn, who nodded in agreement to the condition, before speaking.

  — In that case, if I win, I demand that no form of treatment be administered to you after the fight, regardless of the extent of the injuries. And since you were the one who challenged me, I choose as a condition of victory the inability to fight.

  Loyd then turned his head once more towards Lorian for confirmation.

  — Very well, I accept your conditions.

  Loyd then brought his hands closer and tied together the two red threads.

  — Perfect, now that the rules are established, what weapon do you want? he asked simply, with an air strangely calm given the situation.

  — I will take a simple training sword, asked Lorian.

  It took no more than two seconds for the requested sword to appear in Loyd's right hand, who then extended his pommel to Lorian.

  — And you? asked Loyd, confident about his fellow nephilim's choice.

  — None.

  An amused smile appeared on Loyd's face.

  — Perfect, in that case, you may begin the fight.

  Lorian assumed a standard combat stance, the sword held with both hands and the tip directed towards his opponent's face. Elwyn, for his part, remained stoic, without adopting any particur body position and without raising his arms in front of him. He simply waited for Lorian to take the initiative.

  This behavior of the half-Entity greatly annoyed his opponent, who did not feel taken seriously.

  — So, you are already giving up? You think you can do what without a weapon and without power? You think you can beat me with your bare hands?

  — For someone who wanted to fight so much, I find you particurly talkative when it matters. Is it a form of regret on your part? Or rather, is it a way to escape your responsibility?

  Lorian's hands clenched, full of rage, on his pommel, and finally, he lunged at full speed towards Elwyn, ready to deliver a vertical blow.

  From an ordinary point of view, such as that of the majority of first-year students, Prince Lorian seemed fast and confident in his actions. After all, he had been trained in swordsmanship by a particur professor since the age of five. However, the distinction between the two young boys stemmed not only from their training combat experience, but also from the quality of it.

  Lorian had acquired the art of sword fighting mainly for aesthetic purposes, in accordance with his status as a prince. He had not been trained to be a frontline fighter, especially since the discovery of his aptitude for magic. In short, he was more of a ceremonial soldier.

  In contrast, Elwyn had been trained by Volden, a former adventurer. The tter had always ensured to maintain a difference in strength between the two of them, with the aim of ensuring Elwyn's survival in the outside world. Moreover, Volden wished to pass on his skills, his knowledge, and share his experience with a child. Elwyn, being closer to the Entity than to a human, was particurly receptive to this kind of honest and sincere intention.

  Thus, when Prince Lorian delivered his blow, Elwyn made a simple quarter-turn to the right at the st moment and extended his left foot to make him stumble. In his eyes, trained by Volden's speed for seven years, the prince was far too slow. When Lorian tripped over Elwyn's feet, he began to fall forward due to his momentum, his arms raised and his sword drawn back. His chest, now completely exposed, allowed Elwyn to deliver a powerful punch, violently propelling him backwards. Lorian then nded on his back, with a great impact, which made him drop his sword, before rolling like a stone for a few meters, before coming to a stop on his side with a cough and some painful moans.

  Elwyn did not wait for him to stop before joining him. Once by his side, he delivered a kick to knock him onto his back, before pressing his chest with that same foot and positioning himself above him in a dominant manner.