Just days ago...

"See, if you weave Mana like a spider’s web," Edward pointed at the blueprint, "it can trap slower or weaker Mana flows. Then, this net structure dismantles them bit by bit..." He strained to explain his idea to Deya and the senior Mechanical Department students.

But Deya scoffed. "Enough! Do you even know how much Mana it takes to build your so-called Mana Disruption Web? Or how to stabilize it? Stop spouting useless fantasies."

"What do you mean, useless fantasies? This is a revolutionary fusion of tech and magic!"

"Then build one and prove it."

"You—"

"If it can’t be made, isn’t it just a fantasy?"

Every time the talk reached this point, Edward fell silent. His skills couldn’t match the design’s precision and strength. Even if they could, it was still theory—requiring endless tests and tweaks.

Mechanical Mages were war mages. Everything had to work in combat. With constant scoring matches between students, no one wasted time, energy, or materials on pointless experiments.

"Get real, Edward. Quit chasing nonsense." Deya tossed the blueprints and notes aside, striding out—they were trash to her.

"Hey, don’t throw them!" But these "scraps" were Edward’s painstaking work. He scrambled to gather the scattered pages, kneeling to reorder them.

"Edward, your ideas are all fantasies." "Do something useful." "Worthless. All talk, no action." The other students left with sneers, showering him in mockery and contempt.

"I’ve had enough... I’ve had enough—! Ugh, cough cough..." Alone in the tiny conference room, Edward choked out his rage, only to collapse into violent coughs.

Damn it... Damn this weak body. This congenital illness. If not for it, he could’ve proven himself—not just a dreamer.

"If I had power... real power..."

"And what would you do with it?"

"Huh?" Edward snapped his head up. A stranger sat on the windowsill, backlit by sun. Edward couldn’t see his face, but he seemed Edward’s age. "Who are you?"

"Who I am doesn’t matter. Why let those fools upset you? They’re not worthy of your ideas."

Edward froze. Right. I’m the genius. They’re just ignorant. Why care what idiots think?

The man stepped closer. "Earlier, you said you needed power. To prove your talent?"

"Yes! Power to prove myself."

"Hmph... Is that all?" A sinister chill seeped into his voice. Edward shivered but pressed on.

"W-what do you mean?"

"All those insults. That contempt. The unfairness. Will you just let it go?"

"This—" Edward hesitated, then growled, "Never!"

"Good. Make them suffer tenfold. A hundredfold."

"Absolutely!"

"Excellent." The man placed a headband before Edward. "Wear this. Gain the power you crave."

"This is—" Edward lifted it. When he looked up, the man had vanished.