The Last Apprentice of Magic

The fireball was already flying toward Fred's face when the laughter began.

It tore across the assessment arena like a miniature sun, its orange flames twisting around a violently compressed mana core. The heat reached Fred before the spell itself, drying his eyes and making every breath taste like smoke.

He had less than two seconds to react. Maybe even less.

"Move!" someone shouted from the crowd. Fred's feet finally responded.

He threw himself sideways just as the fireball screamed past his shoulder and slammed into the reinforced barrier behind him. The impact shook the entire arena, sending fragments of scorched stone skittering across the floor.

Fred remained crouched for a moment, one hand pressed against the ground as he fought to steady his breathing. Then he heard the laughter.

Hundreds of students had gathered around the Global Academy of Higher Magic's first-year assessment arena. Some wore expensive academy uniforms decorated with family insignias, while others displayed enchanted rings, crystal pendants, or elaborate magical staffs.

They had come expecting to watch talented young mages demonstrate the abilities that had earned them places at one of the world's most prestigious institutions.

Instead, they were watching a boy with almost no mana desperately dodge a spell that could have burned him alive.

"Isn't that the written-exam genius?"

"I heard he ranked near the top."

"Then why can't he even cast a proper spell?"

"Because intelligence can't create mana."

Another voice rose above the others, followed by a burst of laughter.

"Maybe the academy admitted him by mistake."

Fred slowly pushed himself to his feet.

His uniform had already been torn at the shoulder, and a thin line of blood ran down his cheek where a fragment of stone had grazed him.

Across the arena, Lucian Veyr smiled.

He looked completely untouched.

At sixteen, Lucian was tall, handsome, and carried himself with the effortless confidence of someone who had never been forced to question his place in the world.

His perfectly fitted academy uniform bore the silver crest of House Veyr, one of the region's most influential magical families. Even without seeing his test results, most students could have guessed that he possessed considerable talent.

His mana reading had been extraordinary.

1,842 units.

Fred's had been—

31.

The difference between those two numbers had become the entertainment of the morning.

The instructor standing between them still hadn't intervened.

Professor Vale remained at the edge of the arena with his arms folded across his chest, watching the confrontation with an unreadable expression.

"Continue," he said.

Fred stared at him in disbelief.

"Professor?"

"The practical examination is not over."

Lucian raised one hand.

Flames immediately gathered around his fingers.

Fred's stomach tightened.

Thirty-one units.

That was all the mana his magical core could naturally hold.

In this world, that number wasn't merely low. It was humiliating.

Thirty years had passed since magic descended upon Earth, and during that time, society had rebuilt itself around magical ability. Mages powered cities, defended nations, created enormous fortunes, healed the sick, and occupied positions of influence that ordinary people could rarely hope to reach.

Magic wasn't simply a useful skill anymore.

It was status.

And Fred had been born with almost none of it.

His written examination had been enough to get him through the academy gates, but the arena was where theoretical knowledge met reality.

Right now, reality was trying to kill him.

Lucian took a slow step forward.

"You have almost no mana," he said. "Why are you still standing there?"

Fred wiped the thin line of blood from his cheek and looked directly at him.

"Because you haven't hit me yet."

A few students laughed.

Lucian's smile disappeared.

"You think dodging is going to save you?"

"No."

Fred kept his eyes fixed on him.

"I'm trying to understand your spell."

Lucian paused.

"My spell?"

"Yes."

Fred wasn't entirely sure why he had said it.

Perhaps he was buying himself time. Perhaps he was trying to convince himself that there was still something he could do. Either way, he couldn't afford to let Lucian know how frightened he actually was.

For years, Fred had studied magic through books because practical magic had never been an option for him. While other children practiced elemental spells, he had spent his time memorizing magical theory.

Mana circulation.

Rune structures.

Elemental interactions.

Spell formation.

He knew more about magic than most students his age.

But knowledge wasn't power.

At least, that was what everyone had always told him.

Lucian extended his palm.

A new fireball began forming above it.

This one was considerably larger than the first.

The students immediately reacted.

"That's a Level-One Flame Burst!"

"He's going to finish him!"

"Isn't that excessive for an entrance assessment?"

Professor Vale's expression remained unreadable.

Fred's pulse quickened.

He couldn't block that spell. He couldn't overpower it, and there was no way he could continue running forever.

Then something strange happened.

The world seemed to slow around him.

Fred knew it wasn't actually slowing down. His perception had simply become unnaturally clear, as though everything unnecessary had been stripped away.

The fireball forming in Lucian's hand suddenly looked different.

Fred blinked.

Words appeared in front of his eyes.

[Spell detected.]

He froze.

The fireball continued growing.

[Analyzing magical structure...]

Fred stared at the strange blue letters floating in the air.

No one reacted.

No one seemed to notice them.

Another line appeared beneath the first.

[Analysis: 41%...]

"What..."

The word barely escaped Fred's lips.

Lucian launched the spell.

The fireball came roaring toward him.

Fred instinctively stepped backward.

[Analysis: 73%...]

The flames grew larger as they raced across the arena, but Fred was no longer looking at the flames themselves.

He was looking inside them.

Something was wrong with the spell.

At its center was a tightly compressed core of mana. Surrounding that core were seventeen interconnected magical pathways, each carrying energy through the spell in a precise sequence.

Fred could suddenly see them.

Not metaphorically.

He could actually see the structure.

One pathway flickered.

Then another.

[Three weaknesses identified.]

Fred's eyes widened.

The fireball was badly constructed.

He didn't know how he knew that.

He simply did.

The first weakness was the unstable core. The second was the uneven circulation of mana. The third was—

Airflow.

Fred's gaze shifted across the arena.

The fireball wasn't simply moving through the air. It was interacting with it, and that interaction was affecting the spell's structure.

That meant he didn't have to stop the fireball.

He only had to change its path.

But how?

Fred had thirty-one units of mana.

There was no way he could manipulate enough air to overpower Lucian's spell.

Unless...

His gaze dropped toward the arena floor.

The protective barrier surrounding the assessment area was still active. Magical energy flowed continuously through the walls, creating subtle disturbances in the air around the battlefield.

Fred suddenly understood.

He didn't need to create the force himself.

He only needed to redirect what was already there.

Fred raised his hand.

The crowd erupted.

"He's trying to cast something!"

"With thirty-one mana?"

"He's insane!"

Lucian laughed.

"Don't embarrass yourself."

Fred ignored him.

He focused on the invisible currents surrounding the fireball and reached toward them with the tiny amount of mana available to him.

Then he pushed.

It was barely anything.

A normal mage probably wouldn't have even noticed the amount of mana he had used.

But the airflow shifted.

The fireball moved three inches.

Lucian's smile vanished.

"What?"

Fred pushed again.

This time, the fireball curved.

A collective gasp swept through the arena.

Lucian immediately tried to correct the spell, but the unstable core reacted to the sudden change in airflow. The fireball twisted violently, its flames spiraling out of control.

Fred stepped aside.

The spell passed within inches of him.

A moment later, it struck the far wall.

The resulting explosion thundered through the arena.

Smoke rolled across the battlefield, and fragments of scorched stone fell from the damaged section of the wall.

For several seconds, nobody said anything.

The arena had fallen completely silent as everyone stared at Fred.

Fred remained where he was, barely moving. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding against his ribs.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Nobody was laughing anymore.

Lucian stared at the destroyed section of the wall before slowly turning his attention back to Fred.

"What did you do?"

Fred looked down at his own hand.

"I..."

He didn't know how to answer.

He didn't understand what had happened either.

Professor Vale finally stepped forward.

"Enough."

His voice carried across the arena with enough authority that no one dared argue.

"The assessment is over."

The students slowly began leaving, although most of them continued whispering among themselves as they walked. Fred barely heard any of it.

His attention remained fixed on the strange blue words that had appeared before his eyes.

They were gone now.

Had he imagined them?

Fred looked toward the damaged arena wall, then back at the space in front of him.

There was nothing there.

Then another message appeared.

[Analysis successful.]

Fred stopped breathing.

A second line appeared beneath it.

[New function unlocked: Magical Observation.]

His heart began pounding again.

Another message followed.

[Warning: Your magical constitution is abnormal.]

Fred froze.

Abnormal?

What did that mean?

He stared at the message, trying to understand it, but the words did not explain.

Then a quiet voice came from behind him.

"You shouldn't have been able to see that."

Fred's blood ran cold.

He slowly turned around.

Professor Vale stood only a few steps away.

But the professor wasn't looking at Fred's face.

His eyes were fixed on the space where the blue letters had appeared.

For the first time that morning, Professor Vale looked genuinely unsettled.

Fred swallowed.

"What... are you talking about?"

The professor's eyes narrowed.

Neither of them spoke.

For several seconds, they simply stared at each other while the last traces of smoke drifted through the arena.

Then, deep inside Fred's magical core, something stirred.

Something ancient had been sleeping there for sixteen years.

And for the first time, it had finally noticed him.