Arcane Heir: History's Strongest Mage

"Everyone please take a seat," a youthful voice welcomed the approaching first-years into the spellcrafting classroom—resulting in some hushed chatter.

"Who is that?"

"Is he our substitute teacher?"

As Michael walked into the room, he saw a familiar figure leaning against the desk at the front of the class. He had a pale complexion and sparkling hazel eyes—his tousled brown hair seeming as if he'd just gotten out of bed.

His eyes lit up in recognition.

It's Charles!?

Michael was pleasantly surprised to see the guy here, taking over for Professor Murphy. Though they had seen each other briefly during the entrance exams, they had not had a chance to speak.

Though he'd looked for his old tutor during the first semester, he was nowhere to be found.

Their eyes met briefly and Charles sent him a warm smile. He gestured to the rows of seats—as if silently telling him now was not the time for a rendezvous.

Melody too seemed to recognize the man, yet she just gave him a brief yet respectful nod before heading over to the seating area. Judging by her reaction, she didn't seem too surprised to see him here—piquing Michael's curiosity.

Without a word, he joined her, taking their usual seat.

After a few more minutes, Charles waved his hand and closed the door to the classroom before addressing the class.

"As you might have seen, Professor Murphy is indisposed currently—hence my appearance before you." He stated eloquently, gesturing to himself.

"My name is Charles Gray, a graduate of the academy over two years ago now," he added, giving a brief bow. "The headmaster has tasked me with overseeing the first-years spellcrafting examinations, to which I readily agreed."

A few people seemed to recognize the name, resulting in some whispers around the class. The Gray family were also nobles. Though not as prominent as the Bishop family, they were quite renowned for their magical scroll productions—supplying most of the continent with their wares.

"As someone well versed in spellcrafting, particularly drawing them…" he began, his intelligent gaze moving over the rows of seats. "I believe I have the acumen to assess your capabilities."

No one refuted his words. Most either knew of his family or were like Rudy—oblivious and uncaring.

"So if no one has any objections, let's get right to the exam." He said, a small yet confident smile on his lips.

"You will each have two minutes to construct a tier two spell, drawing the magic circle with your mana. The spell must properly activate—which means you'll have to supply the correct amount of mana yourselves." He explained succinctly.

Without waiting for a response, he continued. "The exam will be scored in two parts: functionality of the magic circle, and execution."

As he said this, Charles flourished his hand, his sleeve billowing slightly and revealing two green rings upon his wrist.

Michael's eyes flashed in surprise. The last time he'd been tutored by Charles, the guy only had a single green ring, meaning he'd gotten stronger since that time.

"Allow me to demonstrate," he stated, deftly summoning mana from his body towards the tip of his index finger. Each stroke he made in the air was filled with both confidence and purpose—as if he'd completed the magic circle countless times.

Before long, a decent sized green magic circle glowed brilliantly in the air in front of him. It seemed to be alive, humming with power that invoked a sense of awe and appreciation from the crowd.

"This is the first criteria; execution," Charles said with a small smile, "how well can you draw your magic circle? And next, how well do you supply your mana."

As soon as he said those words, the man lifted his left hand and sent out a steady stream of green mana towards the magic circle. The circle pulsed, letting out a brilliant verdant green light as it greedily sucked in the supply.

When the final stream of mana was absorbed, the magic circle shuddered briefly before sparks ignited. The sound of static entered everyone's ears before wind began to assault the classroom—causing the parchment atop the desk to flutter into the air.

In front of their eyes, a tornado began to form. Since most students could cast the tier two whirling tornado spell, it didn't seem that impressive.

But that was before a surge of lightning fired from the center of the spiral—letting out a thunderous roar that assaulted one's ears. Before anyone could recover, the small tornado grew in size drastically, coming to life in front of everyone's eyes.

BANG

Another blinding lightning bolt surfaced, this time causing the hairs on Michael's neck to stand up. He stared at the devastating attack with trepidation, feeling his mouth turn dry.

Yet just when it seemed like the spell was going to go on a rampage, it was sliced in two—fracturing apart. It turned into green motes of light, the remnant mana returning to the atmosphere.

"Second criteria; Functionality. Determining how effective the spell you've drawn is." Charles completed, still wearing the same smile he'd been donning the whole time.

The class was silent, still enamored with the powerful spell that the young man had drawn so casually in front of them. Not only was it powerful, it was done with an ease that no one could have expected.

I guess that's why he was our tutor… Michael thought, his appreciation for the teen growing.

While he knew that the guy was knowledgeable, he subconsciously didn't equate this to strength. Yet after a single display, Michael realized his mistake.

"When I call your name, head up to the front and construct your magic circle," Charles said casually, leaning against the desk as he looked at the class.

"Oh, and don't worry. There will be a shield active to protect the rest of the class in case of any accidents." He added, giving a wry smile.

Judging by his expression, it seemed that this was something that had occurred at least once in the past.

"Jakob Aleksander, you're up first."

The almost one hundred sets of eyes turned to an unassuming youth who stood up from his chair calmly. If he was nervous, there was no sign of it as he made his way down the stairs to the front of the class.

Michael's eyes narrowed, wondering what kind of spell the plain youth would choose to cast.