Central Magic Academy—one of the five royal academies directly under the Eastern Human Territories’ Royal City, and also the most bizarre.

The five academies were named by cardinal directions: East, South, West, North, and Central. Logically, most would assume Central Magic Academy reigned supreme—after all, it bore the name "Central" and sat closest to the Royal City in Central City, while others lay nearly six thousand kilometers away. But if you thought that? You’d be painfully naive.

Reality loved slapping faces. Central Magic Academy wasn’t the strongest of the five. It was the weakest…

Rumors spoke of deep historical roots. Centuries ago, the academy produced a genius who surpassed SSS Rank at an absurdly young age—so far beyond it, records claimed he could crush SSS Rankers with a flick of his palm. Yan Yi snorted internally. *At least it wasn’t "crushed under one finger."*

Such a prodigy should’ve elevated the academy. Alas, dreams were sweet; reality was bitter. The genius… eloped.

Ah, elopement takes two. He fled with his lover—not pressured by his own family, but by *hers*. An entire race opposed them. He’d dared an interspecies romance. His beloved was an Elf. Yan Yi’s jaw tightened. *Burning hell! I’m jealous. ELVES!*

Elves deemed themselves noble beings, wielding overwhelming power. No human nation dared provoke them—their territory’s sheer size proved it.

Logically, such arrogant creatures would never tolerate kin mingling with outsiders. Yet after the genius vanished with his Elf lover, they didn’t raze the human world. This became one of history’s great mysteries.

Central Magic Academy’s leaders fumed at losing their star. Determined to breed another prodigy, they dug into his background—and broke into cold sweats. He’d been a commoner. A *pauper*. From a backwater village called Ink Village, admitted through sheer luck!

Sweating bullets, the administrators cursed their past blindness. They unanimously overhauled admissions.

While other academies tested age and mana levels, Central shifted focus. Age limits remained, but the second criterion became *quotas*. Each region received fixed slots—non-transferable, non-negotiable. Central’s spies monitored every district; no bully could steal a spot. This "noble" tradition endured to this day.

Problem was, student numbers stayed the same—but quality plummeted. Villages like Ink Village each got a slot. Imagine the sheer number across vast territories.

When Central’s rankings plummeted in the Five Academies Grand Competition, the leaders finally realized: *Holy crap. We screwed up.*

Too late to reverse course. They’d boasted, "Opportunity for all!" Changing now would invite ridicule. Already scorned by peers, Central clung to its title and let things slide…

Moral of the story? Don’t dig your own grave. Once you start, you finish it on your knees.

Yan Yi remembered finishing that history, his eye twitching violently. He’d yelled:

"Damn it! A whole cult of Aqua’s idiot disciples!"

Which brought him back to his dilemma. First, the academy screamed "doomed, utterly doomed!" Second—how to handle his *zero mana*?

Picture it: Yan Yi failing every spell. A mana crystal ball staying pitch-black when he touched it. *That* would definitely piss off some stressed-out administrator with half a brain.

Sweat slicked his palms. *They’ll target me. Send me on suicide missions to vent their frustration. My peaceful retirement dream… gone.*

"Uh, I—"

Yan Yi wiped his brow, opening his mouth—only for Mo Qing to cut him off.

"No need to speak, Little Yi. We know."

*Since when do I know this?!*

"You’ve always been lonely. We’ve seen how you watch village kids cast spells—your eyes full of awe and longing."

*Who said that?! Can’t it just be "admiring"?!*

"Don’t worry. Our quota opens once every three years, but the children here are too young. It’s perfect for you. No burden at all. Old Mo Ping already filed the paperwork—it’s a surprise! See? …Why that face?"

Mo Qing expected tears of joy. Guilty over springing this on an outsider, he’d added comfort. *They’d already submitted the forms. Little Yi must be overjoyed.* He didn’t grasp their target had *no mana*. Seeing Yan Yi wipe sweat again, Mo Qing frowned.

"Ah… I’m thrilled."

*Thrilled? More like terrified! I’m leaving the village? My cozy retirement plan—gone! This plot’s moving too fast!*

Watching Yan Yi’s "joyful" (Oscar-worthy acting) smile, both elders felt bittersweet pride. *Our child’s grown up.*

"Good. Also, Little Yi—keep an ear out for Yu’er. She didn’t go to Central, but with its web of gossip, you might trace her. Tell her… to come home."

Seeing their faint sadness, Yan Yi sighed inwardly. *When I find that freeloading "sister," I’m punching her lights out.*

"Don’t worry. I’ll bring Sister back."

He smiled, radiating confidence. This time, it was genuine.

*Fine. Next mission accepted.*

Unbeknownst to Yan Yi, reuniting with his sister would take far longer—and cost far more—than he imagined.

"Rest early. Central City lies three hundred miles away. You’ll leave at dawn. We’ve secured a safe route—no Magical Beasts above D-Rank."

Yan Yi nodded. *Yeah, "safe" for anyone but me. D-Rank beasts are trivial for normal students. For me? Hah.*

As the three shared warm smiles, a crimson orb shot into the village sky. Blinding red light erupted.

Mo Ping and Mo Qing’s eyes widened in horror.

"Low-tier peak magic… Meteor Firestorm!"