Chapter 32 On What Grounds?
I stared at the little thing in front of me, trying hard to focus my thoughts: steady, just float there, yes, right there...
The silver-gray "Wasp" wobbled unsteadily, like it was drunk, swaying back and forth in the air in front of me. Several times it nearly dropped, scaring me into a cold sweat.
This was way harder than channeling magic into potion-making.
When making potions, magic flows along the tools and ingredients like water. But now... it was like trying to hold a helium balloon with a thread that had been soaked in water and gone all slippery - one moment of lost focus, and it would drift away.
Theodore's machine had already stabilized, floating obediently in front of him. He could even make it sway slightly with his thoughts, like it was nodding. The guy had a gift for precise control. Isabelle was also fixed in the air. Fine beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead, but she still looked much better off than me. Lillian... her brow was furrowed tight, like she was sensing some complex fluctuation. Her drone was slowly rotating in a strange trajectory.
The other freshmen's situations were mixed, too. The whole classroom was filled with suppressed gasps, annoyed curses, and tense, rapid breathing.
"Some people just seem naturally suited for playing with this junk." A familiar voice, dripping with undisguised superiority, came from behind and to the side.
I didn't even need to turn around - just from that tone, I knew who it was. Leon, that persistent asshole.
I gritted my teeth and ignored him.
My attention was locked on maintaining the levitation.
But his drone, that damn silver-gray "Wasp," was incredibly stable. Not only was it perfectly still, but the glow from its surface runes was noticeably brighter than the others'. He could even make it slowly circle around his head like a showing-off metal halo.
"Mr. Abbott, very well done. Stable magic power, control precision far above average," Flint commented as he passed by - a rare occurrence.
Leon smiled modestly, but his gaze shot past the professor, landing precisely on my drone that was still trembling in mid-air.
Then he controlled his drone at an extremely subtle, extremely well-hidden angle and bumped Lillian's drone that happened to be flying past him.
"Ah!" Lillian cried out. Her already unstable drone, knocked by this light tap, immediately went off course and flew straight toward me.
My mind went "buzz" - my thoughts couldn't react in time.
"Thud!"
A dull impact.
My drone was hit square-on by Lillian's machine, completely lost balance, tumbled toward the ground, and crashed onto the floor with a teeth-grinding sound.
The whole room went instantly silent.
Flint turned around, expressionless, looking toward our area.
Lillian's face went pale. She stammered, "Professor Marshall, it wasn't me! My machine suddenly lost control... it seemed like it was... hit by something..." She glanced uncertainly at Leon.
Leon had already stopped his drone steadily in front of him, looking at me with an innocent expression and just the right amount of "concern." His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for people in the surrounding rows to hear. "Charles, you should be more careful with basic exercises. Your magic control is still unstable - how can you handle such a precise device? Magic is something that, for some people, just can't be forced."
Damn it.
A surge of anger shot straight from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.
That collision was definitely on purpose. This guy just wanted to make me look bad in front of Isabelle and everyone else. And now he dared to put on this act.
I picked up my drone and checked it. There was no visible damage on the outside, but I could feel the connection had become a bit choppy.
I didn't know if the internal structure was damaged.
"Professor Marshall, it wasn't Charles's fault just now," Isabelle said urgently. Though she didn't know exactly what had happened, she sensed it. "There was interference. Right nearby. Leon... you..."
Leon's eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly, then returned to that nauseating gentleness. "Isabelle, I know you and Charles are close, but throwing around accusations about classmates in class isn't good. Drone collisions caused by unstable magic control are very common. I suggest Charles go back to his dorm and do more basic meditation, then next time... try again?"
He deliberately emphasized "try again," the mockery in his eyes almost solidifying.
I took a deep breath, gripping the cold metal sphere in my hand, my fingertips going numb.
Not from fear, but from anger.
I looked at Leon's face that practically screamed, "My family is great, my talent is great, I'm better than you," looked at his expression of charitable pity that was actually grinding me under his foot again and again. He wasn't just humiliating me - he was taking the little bit of confidence I'd finally picked up and the small foothold I'd just found in this magical world, smashing it publicly, then grinding over it repeatedly with those polished leather shoes.
Magic drones?
Modern magical warfare?
Wizards' pride and the evolution of combat arts?
Screw all that.
He didn't get it at all. He didn't understand what I'd sacrificed to stand here. He didn't understand how I survived those three years of being mocked as a "squib." He didn't even understand what it meant for me to control this stupid thing. All he knew was how to use these things to show off his superiority, to prove he was born to stand above me, watching me struggle, then casually using "can't be forced" to nail me to my past.
The flow of magic carried a scorching temperature, surging angrily through my body. I could almost hear my heartbeat pounding against my ribs, thump thump, thump thump, like war drums.
Why the hell should I be mocked so freely by someone like this just because I couldn't operate a metal ball steadily?
Why?
I felt the Bone Lord in the ring seem to "look" over. I could imagine his expression now: watching the show, maybe even a bit expectant. Watching how this weak guy would handle trouble?
No. It was just a small conflict.
I clenched my back teeth and forced that surge of anger down.
I didn't shout "4v1" at Leon as I had before, and I didn't argue with him like a shrew. I just stared at him steadily for a few seconds, then slowly stood up, held the "Wasp" that had taken a fall and whose connection signal was starting to flicker in my palm, turned around, and faced Flint.
"Professor Marshall," I tried to make my voice sound calm, even though it felt like it was stuffed with burning coals, "I request to pause the exercise and check the equipment. There was definitely an unknown magical interference just now. Also..." I paused, my gaze sweeping over Leon's fake innocent face before returning to Flint's. "I hope that in future exercises, we can avoid any unnecessary close contact. Certain 'accidents' not only damage public teaching property but can also easily affect teaching quality. Don't you agree, Professor Marshall?"
I emphasized "unnecessary" and "teaching quality."
Flint pushed up his thick glasses, his gaze sweeping back and forth between me, Leon, and the two now-still drones on the ground. Everyone in the classroom held their breath.
After a few seconds, he nodded. His voice was still flat and emotionless, yet it came down like a huge stone. "Charles, your request is valid. You can go to the repair room after class for inspection. Leon, Lillian," he glanced at Leon and Lillian, "adjust your control areas, maintain distance. This is a basic control class at the beginning of the semester. Any extra collision interference - whether intentional or not - will negatively affect course grading. Clear?"
"...Clear, Professor Marshall." The smile on Leon's face finally faded a bit, but he still maintained that mask. The look he gave me was even colder, though, like it hid needles.
Lillian quickly lowered her head in agreement.
Alright then, Leon.
This time you didn't lose your temper. Looks like you've grown quite a bit, too.
I sat back down and reconnected with the still-awkward drone. My fingers gripped my wand tight, knuckles white. This time, I didn't carefully "thread the line" anymore. I sank my thoughts down and kept communicating with the core inside that damn silver-gray sphere.
You want to play, huh?
You want to see me give you a "surprise" as I did in Magic Potion class last time?
I'm not good at much else, but I'm sick of being pushed around. Modern magic? Drones? Fine, I'll remember this.
Next time.
Next time, you just wait.