The Weakest Tidecaller at the Abyssal Academy

Chapter 5: The Flaw in an Impossible Spell

“Get away from the floor!”

Ethan barely had time to react before the black line beneath his bed widened, splitting the medical room’s tiles with a sharp, cracking sound. The bed lurched sideways as the diagnostic display burst into sparks, and a freezing current swept through the room. Clutching his mother’s compass, Ethan threw himself toward the door while something beneath the floor struck the tiles three times.

A woman’s voice rose through the widening crack, carrying a strange familiarity that made his heart pound.

“You have opened the way, Ethan. Why are you running from me?”

Ethan stopped beside the door, his fingers hovering over the emergency release. “Who are you?”

The woman answered with a soft, almost affectionate laugh that sent a chill down his spine.

“I am someone who remembers the day you were born.”

Before Ethan could ask another question, the floor buckled beneath him. He slammed his palm against the emergency release, but the door refused to open. A red warning flashed across the control panel, informing him that the room had been sealed under containment protocol.

“Open the door!” he shouted, striking the panel again. “Someone, open it!”

A dark tendril emerged from the crack, moving like liquid water while maintaining a solid, unnatural shape. It curled toward Ethan’s ankle with unsettling purpose, stretching across the tiles as though it could sense his fear.

Ethan scrambled onto the overturned bed, but the tendril continued advancing.

His Abyssal Sight activated without warning, revealing the hidden magical architecture surrounding the room. Luminous blue bindings connected the floor, walls, and ceiling, forming a protective network designed to prevent unauthorized entry. Most of the connections remained stable, but the black tendril was consuming the energy that sustained them.

Ethan’s attention fixed on a narrow connection beside the emergency panel. Someone had reversed its direction, allowing the tendril to redirect the room’s protective energy into the crack beneath the floor.

He finally understood how the creature was entering.

Ethan leaped from the bed and struck the reversed binding with the heel of his hand. Pain shot through his palm as the black symbol beneath his skin flared, but the corrupted connection snapped before the tendril could reach him.

The creature recoiled as though the broken binding had burned it. A deafening impact followed, and the crack slammed shut, leaving the tiles trembling beneath Ethan’s feet.

He dropped to his knees beside the damaged control panel, struggling to catch his breath. Although the tendril had disappeared, the woman’s words remained lodged in his mind.

Someone who remembers the day you were born.

The emergency door finally slid open, revealing Professor Adrian Thorne standing in the corridor. His face showed both anger and alarm as he surveyed the damaged room.

“What happened here?”

Ethan raised his trembling hand. “Something tried to come through the floor.”

Thorne examined the sealed tiles before turning his attention to the black mark on Ethan’s palm.

“Did it speak to you?”

“Yes.”

“What did it say?”

Ethan hesitated before repeating the woman’s claim that she remembered the day he was born. The moment the words left his mouth, Thorne’s expression changed so abruptly that Ethan felt another chill travel down his spine.

“Come with me,” the professor ordered. “And do not repeat that statement to anyone else.”

“Why should I keep quiet when nobody is willing to tell me what is happening?”

“Because if that thing truly knows the circumstances of your birth, our problems are far worse than I feared.”

Thorne glanced toward the floor, lowering his voice.

“And because someone inside this academy may be helping it reach you.”

The Impossible Demonstration 

By midday, rumors about the incident in the medical room had spread throughout Abyssal Crown Academy. Some students claimed that Ethan had deliberately attacked the containment network, while others insisted that he possessed a forbidden ability to control ancient sea monsters. A few even suggested that Chancellor Voss had personally arranged his admission for reasons the academy refused to reveal.

Ethan heard several versions of the story before reaching the central training arena.

Despite his injuries, Professor Marr had ordered him to attend a practical assessment to determine whether his unusual ability could be incorporated safely into the academy’s curriculum. She had delivered the order personally and refused to explain why the examination could not be postponed.

Now Ethan stood before thirty candidates, trying to ignore the curious stares and whispered accusations surrounding him.

Damon Cross occupied the center of the arena, where he was demonstrating his mastery of advanced water magic to a crowd of admiring classmates. A shimmering sphere floated above his palm, containing narrow streams of water that rotated around one another to form a miniature cyclone beneath the overhead lights.

“Observe the pressure control,” Professor Marr instructed. “A skilled Tidecaller does not merely produce water. A skilled Tidecaller controls its movement, density, and direction through precisely constructed magical bindings.”

Damon gradually closed his fingers, compressing the rotating sphere until it transformed into a long, razor-thin blade of water. Several students applauded when he sliced through a suspended practice target, separating it into two clean pieces.

After lowering his hand, Damon glanced toward Ethan with a mocking smile.

“Perhaps our newest celebrity would like to explain how the spell works.”

Ethan shook his head. “I don't know how you constructed it.”

“Then you should pay attention,” Damon replied.

He extended his arm and summoned another water blade, allowing it to hover beside his shoulder.

“Your turn, Vale. Show everyone what makes you so special.”

Professor Marr immediately intervened. “Candidate Cross, this is an instructional demonstration, not a personal challenge.”

“Of course, Professor,” Damon answered. “I simply thought Ethan might benefit from seeing what genuine magical talent looks like.”

Several students laughed, and Ethan felt the familiar sting of humiliation rise through his chest. His palm still hurt from the incident in the medical room, and he had no desire to become the academy’s entertainment again.

However, something about Damon’s spell caught his attention.

The water blade had remained stable during its first strike, but its outer edge flickered briefly before Damon reinforced it. Ethan’s vision sharpened as his Abyssal Sight revealed the intricate bindings holding the blade together.

Most of the connections were arranged correctly, controlling the water’s compression and maintaining its razor-thin shape. However, one connection near the base was carrying more pressure than it could safely withstand.

The flaw was subtle, almost invisible, but Ethan recognized its significance immediately.

“Your third binding is unstable,” he said.

Damon’s smile disappeared. “What did you say?”

“The connection between your compression thread and the outer edge is carrying too much pressure. You can maintain the spell during a short demonstration, but the structure will become unstable if you redirect the blade too quickly.”

For a moment, Damon stared at him in disbelief before breaking into laughter.

“You think you can evaluate my spell because you destroyed a diagnostic crystal?”

“No,” Ethan replied. “I think I can evaluate it because I can see the flaw.”

“Then prove it.”

Professor Marr stepped forward, clearly preparing to end the exchange, but Damon had already turned toward the center of the arena.

“I challenge Ethan Vale to a controlled spell contest,” he announced. “No direct attacks, no lethal techniques, and no external interference. If he can identify and neutralize my spell, I will publicly acknowledge that his ability has practical value.”

Damon turned toward Ethan with open contempt.

“If he fails, however, he can stop pretending that a series of strange accidents makes him a genuine Tidecaller.”

Excited murmurs spread through the crowd. Ethan looked toward Professor Marr, who appeared ready to reject the challenge, but Chancellor Voss’s voice suddenly sounded through the arena’s communication system.

“Proceed with the controlled assessment.”

Professor Marr stiffened at the order.

“Candidate Vale,” she said quietly, “you are not required to accept this challenge.”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “Are you afraid?”

The question struck a nerve because Ethan had spent his entire life avoiding situations in which his lack of magical power might be exposed. He was tired of allowing other people to decide what he could or could not attempt.

“I accept,” he replied.

A ripple of excitement passed through the spectators as Damon stepped onto the central platform. Ethan approached the opposite side, and a transparent barrier rose around them, separating the contestants from the audience.

After the automated system announced the rules and warned both candidates against using excessive force, Damon bowed mockingly.

“Try not to embarrass yourself.”

Ethan ignored the insult and concentrated on the spell forming above Damon’s hand. He knew he could not defeat his opponent through raw power because his tide capacity remained almost nonexistent. His only advantage was his ability to recognize weaknesses that other people could not see.

The signal sounded, and Damon attacked immediately.

His water blade shot across the platform so quickly that Ethan barely managed to duck. The blade passed over his head and struck the protective barrier behind him, sending a shudder through the arena.

Damon twisted his wrist, redirecting the blade into a sweeping arc that forced Ethan toward the platform’s edge.

“Your special sight won't save you forever!” Damon shouted.

Ethan retreated while studying the spell’s moving structure. Every time Damon changed direction, the third binding strained beneath the shifting pressure, confirming Ethan’s earlier observation. However, recognizing the weakness was not enough because Damon’s control remained excellent, and his movements gave Ethan little opportunity to interfere.

Another sweeping attack forced Ethan to stumble backward.

He could not afford another mistake.

The spell’s structure remained visible, but its rapid movement made the unstable connection difficult to target. Ethan realized that he needed Damon to redirect the blade sharply enough to place maximum pressure on the damaged binding.

Instead of retreating again, Ethan deliberately moved toward the center of the platform.

Damon interpreted the movement as an opening and thrust his arm forward, sending the blade toward Ethan’s chest. At the last possible moment, he twisted his wrist to redirect the attack.

The third binding strained violently.

“Now!” Ethan shouted.

He stepped sideways and struck the water blade near its unstable connection with his palm. Rather than generating a counterspell, he disrupted the flow passing through the weakened binding.

The water blade collapsed instantly.

A burst of water exploded across the platform, drenching both contestants. Damon stumbled backward with wide eyes as the remaining water splashed harmlessly against the protective barrier.

For several seconds, the spectators stared at Ethan in stunned disbelief. He remained standing in the center of the platform, breathing heavily while pain spread through his palm and a sharp ache developed behind his eyes.

Damon looked at his empty hand before turning toward Ethan.

“You cheated!”

“I didn't cast a spell,” Ethan replied.

“You interfered with my binding!”

“You challenged me to neutralize your spell, and that's exactly what I did.”

A few students began laughing, although this time their amusement was directed at Damon. Professor Marr raised her hand, and the noise quickly subsided.

“The assessment is complete,” she announced. “Candidate Vale demonstrated an unusual ability to identify and disrupt spell architecture. Candidate Cross demonstrated strong control but failed to account for a structural weakness.”

Damon’s face reddened with humiliation.

“This proves nothing about his actual magical power!”

Ethan met his gaze. “No, but it proves that magical power isn't the only thing that matters.”

For a brief moment, Damon appeared ready to attack him, but the barrier lowered before he could act. The arena’s communication system crackled, and Chancellor Voss’s voice filled the room.

“Candidate Ethan Vale is to report immediately to the administrative tower.”

Ethan’s victory had lasted less than a minute before the academy reminded him that he remained under suspicion.

THE SECOND SEAL

The administrative tower was nearly empty when Ethan arrived. Professor Thorne waited beside a window overlooking the deep ocean, while Chancellor Voss stood behind his desk with a sealed document in his hand.

“You performed well in the arena,” Voss said.

Ethan remained silent, unwilling to mistake the chancellor’s acknowledgment for genuine approval.

“Your ability to identify spell weaknesses could prove extremely valuable to this academy. However, your recent activities have raised serious security concerns.”

“Something tried to reach me through the floor of the medical room,” Ethan replied. “I only survived because I broke the binding that allowed it to enter.”

“And yet you remain unharmed.”

“Because I knew what to do.”

Voss placed the sealed document on his desk.

“Your admission will remain provisional. You will attend your assigned classes, submit to regular examinations, and avoid all restricted areas. Any further unauthorized interaction with the containment network will result in immediate confinement.”

Ethan glanced at Professor Thorne, whose expression warned him against arguing.

“Understood,” he replied.

The chancellor nodded toward the door, indicating that the meeting was over. However, as Ethan turned to leave, he noticed the holographic model floating beside Voss’s desk.

The seven concentric rings beneath the academy had changed. One was now completely dark, while the second flickered between blue and black.

Ethan stopped beside the display.

“Professor Thorne, why is the second seal changing?”

Thorne turned sharply toward the hologram, while Voss’s expression hardened.

“Who authorized you to examine that display?” the chancellor demanded.

“No one. I can see it.”

Ethan stepped closer, and his Abyssal Sight revealed the hidden architecture beneath the holographic rings. Thin silver threads connected the seven seals to a central point deep beneath the academy, forming a network that appeared far more complicated than the official diagrams suggested.

One of the threads had been deliberately severed.

Ethan studied the broken connection, his stomach tightening as he recognized the same unnatural pattern he had seen in the medical room.

“This is why the containment pressure is falling,” he said. “Someone has been weakening the seals.”

Thorne moved beside him, examining the display with growing concern.

“How can you tell?”

“The fracture is too clean to be accidental. Whatever happened to the first seal, the damage wasn't caused by the creature pushing against it. Someone deliberately cut the binding.”

Chancellor Voss remained silent.

Ethan continued examining the network until he noticed that the severed thread did not end in darkness. Instead, it extended upward through the academy’s magical infrastructure, passing directly toward the administrative tower.

Toward the chancellor’s office.

Ethan slowly turned to face Voss.

“Someone inside the academy is helping the prisoner.”

Thorne immediately grabbed Ethan’s shoulder.

“Enough. You need to return to your dormitory.”

Before Ethan could respond, the hologram flashed red, displaying a warning that made everyone in the office freeze.

SECOND SEAL FAILURE IMMINENT.

AUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED.

Beneath the warning, a name gradually materialized.

ACCESS HOLDER: ADRIAN THORNE.

Ethan stared at the professor, whose face had turned completely pale.

“I didn't do this,” Thorne whispered.

Before anyone could move, the office doors slammed shut. Black water spread across the windows, obscuring the ocean beyond, while the lights dimmed until the room was illuminated only by the warning on the hologram.

A familiar voice whispered through the walls.

“Excellent work, little Tidecaller. You have found the first traitor.”

Ethan felt his mother's compass begin spinning inside his pocket. He pulled it out, but the broken needle moved so violently that he struggled to hold the casing steady.

The unseen speaker laughed softly.

“Now find the second.”

Beneath Abyssal Crown Academy, the second seal began to break.