Chapter 85 Lessons from Emptiness
The classroom had just quieted down from the thunderous chaos of the experiment. An atmosphere thick with tension hung in the air, as some students sat in silence, their faces etched with confusion, while others spilled into the hallway, their eyes glimmering red and hands trembling like leaves caught in a fierce wind, as if they had just emerged from the very eye of a storm of uncertainty. In the midst of this turmoil, Rinoa remained rooted in her seat, her gaze intensely fixed on Fitran, who stood at the front like a lighthouse amidst a turbulent sea, serving as her only anchor in this overwhelming disarray. Each breath she took felt like a laborious task, heavy with the weight of apprehension pressing down upon her chest, and her heart raced uncontrollably, pounding like a wild drum, threatening to shatter her already fragile calm. Her arms, pressed firmly against the chair, quivered not only from the oppressive nature of Fitran's piercing stare but also from the anxiety that twisted and coiled within her, foretelling the unknown that lay ominously ahead. The stillness of the classroom stretched time, each tick of the clock echoing in her mind like the slow drip of water in a cavern, as waves of anger and confusion surged within her, creating a tempest that threatened to consume her whole.
With fierce determination igniting her spirit, Rinoa finally stepped forward, breaking the invisible barrier of fear that held her back. She drew an object from the depths of her cloak—a small black crystal that pulsed with a soft luminescence, its gentle rhythm echoing a calm heartbeat amidst the chaotic tempest of emotions that whirled around her like a tornado.
Her fingers tightened around the crystal as if squeezing the courage she so desperately needed from its seemingly powerless form; she envisioned the small gem as her beacon of strength, an anchor amidst the storm of doubt and confusion that threatened to engulf her.
"This is a Gamma fragment. I managed to stabilize it in a vacuum," she announced, her voice steadfast and clear yet infused with a flicker of hope. "If I can align its frequency with my body's resonance, perhaps I can store a new type of magic energy within myself. I want to create a personal magic model. I want to try."
A profound silence enveloped the classroom, suffocating and taut.
Fitran's gaze bore down on her, heavy and unyielding, a dark cloud looming overhead ready to unleash its storm. After what felt like an eternity in the suffocating silence, he smiled—a thin, chilling smile that carried no warmth, only an unsettling air of disdain. Rinoa felt his stare slice through her uncertainty, sharp and glinting like a knife wielded in dim light, each moment heightening her resolve even as it threatened to unravel her.
"You want to create personal magic?" he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt like venom from a fanged serpent. He stepped closer, each deliberate movement amplifying the already charged atmosphere, which felt thick enough to slice through. "A disabled child who cannot store mana dares to propose a new magical system, based on a fragment of the continent that even the Archmages have forbidden to touch?"
His words flowed out like smooth silk—seductive yet laced with a razor-sharp edge, poised to cut through the mounting tension. Rinoa could feel the oppressive weight of his gaze enveloping her like a heavy fog, and the cold sweat trickling down her spine sent shivers through her body. As the fabric of her bravery began to fray, she tried to ignite a spark of anger within her spirit, only to find it suffocated by an undeniable fear that seeped in like a dark shadow, coiling around her resolve.
"Rinoa, you don't need a magic system. What you truly crave is satisfaction. Yet, instead of seeking healing, you keep diving headfirst into your wounds, disguising them as 'knowledge.' You call yourself a scientist, but all you do is encase trauma within layers of sterile theory, as if trying to preserve a decay that ought to be laid to rest."