Abyssal Monarch: Rebirth of the Forsaken

Another night, gone. The sun wasn't up yet.

Same nightmare again. The figure couldn't let him have a peaceful night of sleep. It came to show and affirm the same message over and over while he sank deeper and deeper. The figure—its shape, its message, the oppressive weight it carried—lingered like a shadow in the back of his mind. It didn't need to speak aloud anymore. Its presence alone was enough to convey its meaning: You are sinking. You are not in control.

This time, though, he didn't wake up kicking and screaming. He simply sat up straight. For a moment, it felt like he was sweating bullets, his throat dry, and hunger gnawing at him. But as soon as he tried to focus on that feeling, it disappeared—like a mirage teasing the edge of his senses.

The sound of scribbling came to his ears.

He looked at Min-Ho, still scribbling away in his notes. Tossed paper balls littered the floor around him, and a tall stack of papers stood precariously beside him. The green turtle Jin-Su had gifted him was being used as a paperweight, its shimmering eyes giving it an oddly watchful appearance in the dim light. Min-Ho hadn't even changed out of his uniform from yesterday.

How long had it been?

Ten hours since Jin-Su's last class.

Min-Ho was utterly engrossed in his writing, the faint hum of mana-infused ink mingling with the scratching of his pen.

Deciding not to disturb him, Jin-Su slowly got down from the bed. He instinctively stretched, though his joints failed to give him the satisfying crack he was hoping for. The room was dimly lit by Min-Ho's desk lamp, which cast flickering shadows that seemed to dance in time with the movements of his pen. The air smelled faintly of old paper, the sharp tang of mana-infused ink, and the lingering traces of tea.

Jin-Su's gaze swept over the room before falling on the green turtle. Its faint glow gave it an almost lifelike quality, as though it were aware of its surroundings.

He padded softly to the corner where their shared kettle sat. Its engraved runes pulsed faintly, still warm. Instead of preparing food for himself, Jin-Su busied himself with making something for Min-Ho. With quiet precision, he set about assembling a small plate of bread and preserved fruit alongside a steaming cup of mana-infused tea.

Carrying the modest meal, Jin-Su approached Min-Ho's desk and placed it beside him. The soft clink of the cup startled Min-Ho out of his trance. His gaze flickered briefly toward Jin-Su before darting back to his work.

"Thanks," Min-Ho muttered distractedly, glancing at the food and tea but making no move to eat. "But I can't stop now. I'm onto something—something big!" His hand shot out to grab another piece of paper, the pen scratching furiously as if racing against time itself.

Jin-Su raised an eyebrow and glanced at the scattered diagrams and dense calculations. The chaotic spread of symbols and glyphs stirred something familiar in his mind.

"You're stuck on the energy loop symmetry," Jin-Su remarked casually. "Your redirection nodes are splitting the flow unevenly, which is why it destabilizes under high output. Try reversing the glyph rotation and channeling through dual conduits."

Min-Ho froze mid-stroke. His wide eyes flicked toward Jin-Su, and for a moment, he was utterly still. Then, realization dawned.

"That's it," Min-Ho whispered, his voice barely audible. He straightened in his chair, excitement building in his expression. "That's it! Of course! Why didn't I see it sooner?"

Grabbing the cup of tea, Min-Ho downed the scalding liquid in one long gulp, unbothered by the heat. He slammed the empty cup down with a decisive clink, his focus already returning to the papers. With newfound energy, he scratched out old calculations and began rewriting them at a pace that bordered on manic.

Jin-Su smirked faintly, stepping back to give Min-Ho his space. He watched as his roommate poured every ounce of energy into his work, the tea cup now glowing faintly from the mana-infused liquid it had held moments earlier. The green turtle, still perched on the desk, seemed to shimmer approvingly under the flickering lamplight.

Min-Ho's discovery wasn't just an idle experiment; it was a groundbreaking step in mana flow optimization. The technique he was developing would allow mana to be redirected with precision through dual conduits, minimizing energy loss during high-output spells. In combat, this could revolutionize how mages sustained their magic, allowing for faster casting and adaptive responses. Defensive barriers could be converted into offensive attacks mid-cast, and energy reserves could be preserved for longer engagements. If successful, it could change the dynamics of how mana was used in the academy—and beyond. Jin-Su is using a far more advanced and personalized version of this technique which practically makes all of his casts in spirits almost instant and comparatively very fast for magic.

**

Jin-Su sat back on his bed, the faint creak of the mattress breaking the quiet rhythm of Min-Ho's furious scribbling. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face as he tapped it awake.

The schedule app opened automatically, its interface sleek and minimalistic. At first glance, the grid displayed an overwhelming array of options—rows upon rows of classes, spanning every subject imaginable. Combat theory, advanced mana manipulation, spirit integration, celestial studies, enchanting techniques, and even interdisciplinary workshops mixing science with magic.

Jin-Su raised an eyebrow as he scrolled through the endless list. Unlike a typical student's schedule, which would only show their assigned classes, his displayed everything. Every available class across the academy was at his fingertips.

A small icon in the corner glowed faintly, labeled Keeper Privileges.

"Of course, I almost completely forgot about that entire painful evening." Jin-Su muttered to himself, leaning back against the wall as he continued scrolling. As a Keeper, he had unrestricted access to all the academy's resources, including the ability to attend any class at any time. He could enter a lecture on divine artifact theory, join a combat simulation, or even sit in on private research sessions.

Yet, a bold red notification appeared at the top of the app: Designated Student Instruction Requirement – Minimum 3 Classes Per Week.

A series of checkboxes was displayed beneath it, with the first already ticked. Jin-Su's mind flashed briefly to the class he had held yesterday. That was one down, two more to go—though he still had plenty of time, as today was the weekend. The app noted that the first week was designated as a "free week," giving him the flexibility to explore and plan as he saw fit.

He tapped on his designated student list, the names of those under his instruction appearing alongside their respective skill categories. The Keeper system wasn't just a title—it was an obligation, binding him to nurture and challenge these students.

"Well," Jin-Su muttered, flicking through the classes again, "if I can take anything, I might as well use this to my advantage." He couldn't help but smirk at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Not only could he sit in on advanced topics, but he could also observe the techniques of other professors and instructors, potentially learning more about the academy's inner workings—or its weaknesses.

He set the phone down for a moment, his thoughts shifting. With the first week being free, he had a rare opportunity to explore without the immediate pressure of responsibilities. Still, the fact that he had to hold three classes each week loomed over him. The system was clear: he could do whatever he wanted, but there was no escaping the obligation to his students.

Glancing back at Min-Ho, who was now muttering excitedly to himself while scribbling away, Jin-Su felt the faintest twinge of amusement. "At least someone's already hitting the ground running," he said under his breath, picking up his phone again to scroll through the class options

One class piqued his interest. Temporal Divination and Prophetic Insights. Can they really see the future? Or has it been a legal scam.. Maybe I can find out today. 

He leaned back, the faint hum of mana circuitry in the room blending with the rhythmic scratching of Min-Ho's pen. It was going to be an interesting day.