The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World

[Noelle’s POV]

”Again, Ruvian, and this time do not merely release the construct but escort it. [Mana Missile] that is abandoned the instant it leaves your palm will always behave directionless and eager to dissipate.”

Airin called out across the training hall.

From afar, Ruvian inclined his head slightly.

”When you form [Mana Missile], you are performing condensation, vectoring, and discharge. Most novices treat them as steps. But they are not just steps. To put in better words, they are one motion seen in slow thought. Collapse them. Let intent and release exist in the same instant.”

”If your will arrives before your mana, you are slow. If your mana arrives before your will, you misfire. They must arrive altogether.”

”So, try again.”

Ruvian raised his hand and chanted the spell.

The [Magic Missile] shot forward with a clean, cutting thrust. It traveled with a deliberate swiftness, fast enough that the eye could only follow by anticipation rather than sight.

It hit the target dummy a second later.

Boom!

From the sideline, where she sat within the interval of drills, Noelle studied Ruvian carefully. Sweat cooled along her neck, but she didn’t move to wipe it... she wouldn’t allow herself the distraction.

Griffer wandered over after a time, spear resting across his shoulder. He followed her stare, eyes narrowing as another [Magic Missile] spell streaked forward.

”He’s getting better, isn’t he?”

Noelle hesitated at first, almost against her will. Then she gave a small nod.

”It’s... impressive,” she admitted, her face showing no hint of ease. If anything, it only grew more defined.

”For someone without even the slightest affinity for [Pure Mana], improving his [Magic Missile] this quickly shouldn’t be possible.”

”Are we sure he doesn’t have any affinity at all? Because from my standpoint, that looks suspiciously like he has it.”

He tilted his head, squinting as another missile tore across the range. ”And one more thing... is it just me, or has the instructor been riding him harder than the rest of us? Or am I just imagining things?”

Noelle offered a judicious smile.

”No, you’re just imagining it.”

Only then did she glance at him. ”Now go back to your drill, Griffer. I’m well aware you’re trying to slack off.”

Griffer recoiled as if struck. ”Huh? But I’m not!” he shot back, scandalized. His grip tightened on the spear.

”I came here because... you’re slacking off first!”

”What?” Noelle chuckled, shocked.

She shook her head and folded her arms more snugly. ”Either way, you don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

Griffer stared at her for a second, the protest still half-formed in his throat. Then he clicked his tongue with a reluctant huff.

”Heh, you worry too much. You really think I’d fall behind that easily?” he said, almost laughing.

He met her magenta eyes and smiled confidently.

”Watch me, too, Noelle.”

****

[Ruvian’s POV]

Fatigue. Pure, undiluted fatigue. That was what settled over Ruvian as he finally made it back to his room.

Which was mildly ironic, to be honest.

He had an S-rank Mental Strength ability.

In theory, that meant his mind was supposed to be indomitable. Tireless. A paragon of composure under pressure. And in effect, it meant he could push himself far enough to reach levels of exhaustion he hadn’t known before.

True to form, he had done exactly that.

This was the first time he was so exhausted!

’Ah goddamn it... I feel like dying!’

Since morning, he’d worked his body until soreness planted itself deeply.

Whenever time opened up, even briefly, he’d fill it by cycling his [Cosmic Fountain Circulation], refining it again and again, grindingly.

And that was only the beginning, because next came the circle training session, where he’d spent mana as though his reserves were infinite, which they very much were not.

He repeated spell after spell, adjustment after adjustment, and repetition layered atop repetition. He couldn’t count how many times he’d drained his Spellcore close to empty.

Or, most tellingly, how many mana potions he’d swallowed from Airin’s supply.

Ordinary scholars would have mentally burned out.

Ruvian, of course, had not thanks to his blessing.

He shut the door behind him and paused there, letting the silence settle. His arms were heavy. His legs were heavier.

It wasn’t quite pain.

Maybe it was worse than pain!

Still, he had to admit the results were worth it. His control, his casting, and his circulation... all had improved.

Which was satisfying, at the very least.

His gaze dropped to the wall beside the door. That’s when he noticed the mailbox was beaming with light.

Usually, that meant there was something inside.

After inspecting it, it was an envelope.

At the center of the flap rested an embossed seal: the crest of the Academy—a three-tiered spire rising from an open book.

Even before touching it, he could feel the faint pulse of magic coming from it.

”Hmm, what’s this?”

Inside was a single folded sheet, and so, he unfolded it.

==========

Velthia Academy Library

Formal Notice of Recall

To: Scholar Ruvian Castelor

Registry Number: K-49-51-D

This notice serves as an official request for the immediate return of the archived volume currently registered under your custody:

Title: [Cosmic Fountain Theory]

Be advised that a priority requisition has been issued by a higher-ranking scholar of the Academy. Said requisition supersedes all apprentice-level borrowing privileges under Library Statute 3.11, subsection C.

You are therefore required to return the above-named text to the Grand Library Reception Desk no later than tomorrow before the sixth bell of the evening.

Failure to comply within the stated time frame may result in temporary suspension of archive access privileges, formal demerit entry into your academic record, and possible disciplinary review depending on delay duration.

We thank you for your cooperation in preserving the integrity of the Academy’s knowledge repositories.

By Order of the Grand Librarian

==========

”The hell?”

Ruvian found himself frowning, though even that seemed an insufficient response.

He took his seat first, pressing his fingers to his forehead; strangely, this vexation drained him more thoroughly than the entirety of today’s training.

He had, in jest, speculated about such an outcome yesterday. He had not, however, intended for probability to indulge his irony and render it real!

”Haa... this is bullshit.”

He dejectedly sighed.

Ruvian had not yet progressed through even half of the volume’s contents, and already he was expected to return it?

More perplexing still was the question of who, precisely, would submit a request for this particular book.

There should have been no one... no one, that is, besides Zian Herga...

’Wait.’

Then he recognized the flaw in his assumption.

’Ah.’

’I almost forgot...’

There was another person.

Before Zian had ever discovered the text by chance, there had existed an individual who had been searching for this book.

Someone whose name alone carried the weight of inevitability.

During the Sevenfold Tournament, when Zian stood as Wellencrest’s chosen representative, she had been counted among the foremost obstacles barring his ascent.

She was none other than Calyra Arcanis.

Velthia’s peerless prodigy.

Or to be more precise—

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[Chapter 52: The World’s Greatest Prodigy]