Infinite point system

Shocking The whole Academy

The training grounds buzzed with nervous energy as students gathered in the morning light. Ethan stood at the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed, watching as Professor Dain—a grizzled veteran with scars running down his left arm—climbed onto the central platform. 

"Listen up!" Dain barked, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Today, you'll be sparring against Master Kael's third-year class. No holding back. First match starts in five minutes." 

A murmur spread through the first-years. Fighting third-years was suicide—they had years more training, stronger spells, and far more combat experience. 

Ethan remained silent. His body still ached from last night's breakthrough, and the System's warning pulsed in his vision: 

**[Vessel Stability: 57%]** 

**[Warning: High risk of mana leakage if spells are cast]** 

**[Recommendation: Avoid combat for 24 hours]** 

He had no intention of fighting today. 

-

Professor Dain scanned the crowd before his gaze landed on Ethan. 

"Gale. You're up first. Against Terrik Voss." 

Silence fell. 

Ethan didn't move. 

Dain's brow furrowed. "Did you hear me, Apprentice?" 

Ethan met his eyes. "I can't." 

A few students snickered. Dain's expression darkened. 

"And why not?" 

"The Headmaster's orders," Ethan said calmly. "I'm not allowed to cast spells without supervision." 

Dain scoffed. "This *is* supervised combat. You think battles wait for permission?" 

Ethan shrugged. "Without spells, I can't fight." 

Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. 

The entire training ground went still. 

---

Whispers erupted. 

*"Did he just refuse?"* 

*"Coward!"* 

*"After what he did to Rolan?"* 

Professor Dain's face twisted in frustration, but he couldn't force a student to fight against the Headmaster's orders. 

"Fine. Garreth! You're up first!" 

The matches began. 

Ethan stayed where he was, eyes half-lidded, watching the fights with detached interest. The third-years dominated—their spells sharper, their movements more precise. Garreth lasted all of ten seconds before a well-placed wind blade sent him sprawling into the dirt. 

No one approached Ethan. 

No one dared. 

Until *he* did. 

---

A shadow fell over Ethan. He looked up to see a broad-shouldered third-year smirking down at him. 

"Ethan Gale, right? The *famous* Apprentice who can't even stand up for himself?" 

Ethan recognized him—**Dorian Veyne**, Rolan's cousin. 

The System pinged: 

**[Hostile Intent Detected]** 

**[Subject: Dorian Veyne]** 

**[Relationship: Acting on Lirien Veyne's orders]** 

Ethan said nothing. 

Dorian crouched, his voice low enough that only Ethan could hear. 

"Lirien says hello. She also says you're not as impressive as you think." He grinned. "I agree. Hiding behind the Headmaster's orders? Pathetic." 

Ethan exhaled slowly. 

"You done?" 

Dorian's smirk faltered. "What?" 

Ethan closed his eyes again. "Then move. You're blocking my sun." 

The training grounds *erupted*. 

Laughter. Gasps. Outraged whispers. 

Dorian's face flushed red. His fists clenched—but he couldn't attack an unarmed, non-combatant without consequences. 

With a final glare, he stormed off. 

---

The matches continued. Ethan remained seated, unmoved, as the third-years crushed one first-year after another. 

No one else approached him. 

When the bell rang, signaling the end of training, Professor Dain gave Ethan one last, unreadable look before dismissing the class. 

As the crowd dispersed, the System updated: 

**[Social Standing: Decreased]** 

**[Short-Term Benefit: Vessel Stabilization Progressing]** 

Ethan stood, dusted off his robes, and walked away without a word. 

He had a library to visit. 

And a body to strengthen. 

---

The training ground sand crunched under Ethan's boots as he turned to leave, the jeers of third-year students still ringing in his ears. The morning's display of weakness would cost him socially, but his damaged vessel couldn't risk another magical confrontation so soon after the breakthrough. 

A meaty hand slammed against his chest, stopping him mid-stride. 

"Leaving so soon, coward?" Dorian Veyne's hulking frame blocked the path, his third-year combat robes straining across broad shoulders. The Veyne family sigil - a silver serpent coiled around a blade - gleamed on his lapel. 

Ethan didn't flinch. "Move." 

Dorian's grin revealed a chipped front tooth. "Make me." Behind him, a dozen third-years formed a loose circle, cutting off escape routes. 

**[System Alert]** 

**[Hostile Engagement Imminent]** 

**[Opponent Analysis: Dorian Veyne - Knight Disciple (Level 3)]** 

**[Primary Weapons: Enhanced Physicality, Basic Combat Spells]** 

The crowd's murmurs died as Professor Dain folded his arms from the sidelines, making no move to intervene. 

"Fine." Ethan adjusted his robe's sleeves. "But I don't fight meaningless battles." 

Dorian barked a laugh. "What, need your precious magic to feel brave?" 

"500 gold coins." The words cut through the training ground's tension like a blade. "If you win." 

A collective gasp rippled through the students. That sum could feed a common family for a year. 

Dorian's confidence wavered for half a heartbeat before his greed won out. "And when I win?" 

Ethan met his gaze evenly. "You won't." 

The circle around them tightened. Someone produced a practice sword, which Dorian snatched mid-air. 

The training ground fell silent as Dorian Veyne, a hulking third-year Knight Disciple, cracked his knuckles and smirked. The crowd of students had formed a wide circle around them, whispers spreading like wildfire. 

*"Did Gale really accept?"* 

*"He's insane! Dorian's a monster in close combat!"* 

*"After refusing to fight earlier... what changed?"* 

Ethan stood motionless, his expression unreadable. The System's warning pulsed in his vision: 

**[Vessel Stability: 58%]** 

**[Warning: Excessive mana expenditure may cause backlash]** 

He ignored it. 

Dorian grinned, rolling his shoulders. "No spells, remember? Just fists." 

Ethan said nothing. 

Professor Dain, standing at the edge of the ring, crossed his arms. "Begin." 

---

Dorian lunged forward, his massive frame moving with surprising speed. His fist, wrapped in reinforced knuckle guards, shot toward Ethan's face— 

Ethan raised a single hand. 

**"Gravity's Grasp."** 

The air itself seemed to **warp** around Dorian. His charge came to an abrupt halt as an invisible force **slammed** him into the ground. The packed dirt cratered beneath him, dust exploding outward as if a meteor had struck. 

Dorian gasped, his body pinned like an insect under glass. His muscles strained, veins bulging, but he couldn't move—not even a finger. 

Silence. 

Then— 

**Chaos.** 

---

### **The Aftermath** 

The training ground **erupted**. 

- **First-years** stumbled back, eyes wide. 

- **Third-years** shouted in disbelief. 

- **Professor Dain** dropped his clipboard. 

Ethan lowered his hand. The spell released, and Dorian wheezed, his face pale as he scrambled away on all fours. 

No one spoke to Ethan as he turned and walked away. 

No one **dared.** 

---

As Ethan left, the whispers followed: 

*"That was **Gravity's Grasp**? Since when does it do that?!"* 

*"He didn't even chant..."* 

*"Dorian didn't land a single hit!"* 

Professor Dain stared after Ethan, his expression unreadable. 

Somewhere in the crowd, Lirien Veyne's silver eyes gleamed with something darker than anger. 

**Interest.**