The Anomaly's Path

A full day had passed since the chaos of the big fight. Thanks to the healing from the academy’s best mages and the gentle touch of Lyssaria’s World Tree power, the torn skin on my right arm had healed.

My core was still a little sore, but physically, I was okay. Not that it mattered. The academy didn’t care if you were feeling good or not, you still had to show up and study.

The morning started with the Practical Combat Training, and Professor Morgana made it very clear that yesterday’s win changed nothing. She beat the whole freshman class into the dirt with hard, fast drills meant to test our stamina while we had no mana left.

By the time the buzzer rang, Roan, Alice, and I were slumped against the arena wall, covered in sweat, our muscles burning.

I barely had time to splash cold water on my face and escape their tired complaints before I had to run across the big campus toward my first elective class.

The elective system had started today. And I was completely, hopelessly lost.

The main academic buildings were a maze of high halls, shifting spaces, and endless white stone pillars.

After getting lost three times, looking at a map that made no sense because of the school’s space shifts, and going down two whole sets of spiral stairs, I finally stopped in front of a heavy, dark wood door in the east wing.

I looked at the brass plate on the stone.

Runes and Arrays. Professor Zane.

”Is this the class?” I said under my breath, my chest still heaving from the run.

I reached out, grabbing the cold iron handle. But before the door was even halfway open, a sharp, cutting voice came through the gap, leaking into the hall like a physical weight.

”Get out! Both of you! Out of my sight before I burn your names off the class list!”

I froze, pausing with the door open just a few inches. I peeked through the small gap, keeping low.

The room inside was a large, tiered lecture hall. Instead of fancy tools, it had simple wooden benches and basic chairs going up the rows.

Standing at the front was not an old, wrinkled scholar. Professor Zane was a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a clean, dark blue coat with silver cuffs. He had sharp features, short black hair, and cold eyes.

Right now, he was yelling at two students standing near the front.

A boy and a girl.

From the looks and their stiff, arrogant posture, they were clearly nobles. I didn’t know their faces — they were likely just background students from the other classes, names the game never bothered to mention. Not that I bothered to remember them either.

”But Professor!” the noble boy said, his face red with shame. ”The line was only off by a tiny bit! The ink was—”

”A tiny mistake in a line does not give you a bad grade, Mr. Quentin ,” Zane cut in, his voice dropping into a scary, calm tone. ”It gives you a small explosion that blows your hand off. You are careless. You are arrogant. And worst of all, you are wasting my time. Pack your things and leave.”

The noble girl looked like she was about to cry, her lip shaking as she grabbed her bag with shaking hands. The boy bit his lip so hard it bled, but under Zane’s cold stare, neither of them dared to say another word. They turned fast, their boots clicking as they rushed to the exit.

I stepped back into the hall just in time for the door to swing open. The two nobles ran past me, the girl wiping a tear from her cheek while the boy stared ahead in shock.

Wow... the professor here is genuinely cruel, I thought, watching them disappear down the hallway.

Taking a slow breath to calm myself, I stepped through the open door and entered the room. As I walked down the stone steps toward the seats, I quickly looked around.

The first thing I noticed was how empty it was. Out of hundreds of first-years, there were barely fifteen students sitting on the long benches. Runes and Arrays was known as one of the hardest, most boring, and most unforgiving classes in the world.

Then, my eye caught a familiar head of messy brown hair that stuck up in every direction like it had been shocked.

Caster was sitting three rows back, his wide hazel eyes moving between the front desk and his own wooden table.

My brow furrowed. Caster is here?

I searched my memory, trying to remember the class lists from the game, but I could not recall such a detail. My knowledge of this world’s story was deep when it came to characters like Arthur, but the game never listed every single elective for side characters.

However... it made sense, though.

Caster had the unique Structure affinity. His whole skill set was based on studying systems, circuits, and building design. Runes and arrays were the peak of magic engineering. It was the right place for him.

In fact, a small thought came to mind as I looked at him. This is perfect.

I wanted to talk with Caster and get him to join my team. He was a genius who could find weak spots in any barrier, and I needed people like him. Today, I would make sure to have a proper conversation with him and see if he was willing to work with me.

I was still lost in my thoughts when the same cold, cutting voice snapped me back.

”What do you want, young man?”

I stopped. Professor Zane had turned around, his cold eyes locked on me. The remaining students all shifted in their seats, their eyes staring at me with a mix of awe and pity. They all knew who I was after yesterday, but in this room, status meant nothing.

I cleared my throat, keeping my face blank. ”I am in this class, Professor Zane. I signed up for this course because I want to learn the runes.”

Zane looked at me for a moment. He slowly pulled a silver pocket watch from his vest, opened it, and looked at the face.

”Do you know what time it is, Mr. Celestial?” Zane asked, his voice flat. ”The bell rang exactly two minutes ago.”

The room went very quiet. I was sure he was about to let out a wave of curse on me just like the two nobles before me. I braced myself, ready for it.

Instead, Zane simply closed his watch and put it back in his vest.

”Take a seat,” he said coldly. ”Next time, make sure you are not late. If you cannot manage your time, do not bother coming. Sit.”

”Thank you, Professor,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

I walked quickly up the stone steps and sat in the empty seat right next to Caster. The half-dwarf let out a small, high-pitched sound of surprise as I sat down, giving me a quick, nervous smile while wiping sweat from his forehead.

He leaned over, his voice a fast whisper. ”Mate... I thought you were dead. That guy gave me a cold look because my ink pot wasn’t straight.”

”Just stay quiet and watch,” I whispered back, resting my left hand on the cold wood.

At the front of the room, Zane tapped the stone desk with a long piece of white chalk. The sound was sharp, pulling everyone’s attention to the big black board behind him.

”Let us begin,” Zane said, his voice clear without any help from magic.

”Most of you are here because you have strong elemental powers and think that drawing lines on stone will make your spells stronger. Let me fix that wrong idea. Runes are not magic. Runes are the written language of magic itself — a way to put intent and mana into a physical or magical object. The symbol you draw does not hold the power. It is the anchor that directs and steadies the energy around you.”

He turned, his chalk moving across the black board, drawing a series of sharp marks.

”This is why there are so few true rune masters,” Zane went on, turning back to face us, his eyes scanning our faces.

”It is a very hard path. Because you are all low-ranked students, you do not have the refined will needed to put your soul directly into reality. So, you cannot just make high-level rune symbols out of thin air. You must train your mind to stay clear. You must learn to hold complex patterns in your thoughts while moving mana through your body with perfect control.”

Listening to his lesson, my mind started to work. Does that mean studying runes actually makes your willpower stronger too?

In a world where keeping your mind focused could mean the difference between life and death during a core failure, training your mind through these symbols was a cheat code for mental control.

If your intent wavers for a second, the rune fails. If your focus breaks, the energy shatters. It takes a lot of mental energy just to keep one mark steady.

My mind went to the bigger picture of the world.

The best rune users I knew of belonged to House Runeweaver, one of the Four Great Houses. They were the smart house of scholars and enchanters, in charge of the big defensive barriers that protected human cities and the large teleport networks.

But even House Runeweaver did not know everything.

The true origin of these old rune symbols was unknown — even I didn’t know. The game had never told me where they came from.

A strange realization hit me, and I let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

If you wanted to learn more about runes, you had to look toward the Magic Tower City. Those crazy bastards were always doing research and working on mysteries. They must have done some research on this at some point.

”To put it simply for your young minds,” Zane’s sharp voice barked, pulling me from my thoughts as he pointed his chalk at the board. ”Runes are the base of civilization. They are used for barriers, teleport networks, weapon boosting, and holding things in place. Look at this.”

Zane raised his right index finger. A tiny, very dense drop of pure, colorless mana formed at the tip of his nail. With a smooth, steady motion, he drew a single, simple three-lined mark in the air above a small iron block on his desk.

The air crackled, a faint blue light glowing where his finger had passed.

”This is a basic structural rune for weight control,” Zane said.

”To do this, you cannot just want it to happen. You must put your full focus into it, shaping your intent into a solid form. If your line thickness changes by even a tiny bit, or if your focus drops during the stroke, the drawing will reject your core frequency.”

The moment he finished the last stroke, the blue light snapped down, sinking into the surface of the iron block.

Thud.

The heavy wood of the professor’s desk groaned under a sudden, big increase in weight. The iron block had not changed size, but its density had changed completely.

”For the rest of this block, you will not be casting spells,” Zane said, his eyes flashing with a cold challenge.

”You will be practicing the exact lines. On your desks are basic slates and dull styluses. You will draw the core symbol for Stability over and over again. If your focus breaks, the slate will shatter, and you will start over.”

Caster let out a low, sad groan next to me, his broad shoulders dropping as he picked up his stylus with a shaking hand.

I looked down at my own slate, my single open eye staring at the blank stone.

I gripped the stylus with my left hand, my mind working out the lines. The first class was just the basics, but as I brought the stylus down to begin the first stroke, a strange pressure moved through the air around my desk.

The slate shook, a sharp crack forming along the edge before I had even finished the first line.

My eye narrowed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.