Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 63: Casting Spells and Taking L’s

I dragged Ronan out of the courtyard before anyone could start asking questions, keeping a firm grip on his shoulder as I led him through the quieter halls. He didn’t resist, but I had already come to terms with what the new Ronan was, even if I wasn’t sure. I tried to brush off the thoughts of this person being no more than a loyal pet, a little guy that goes where I tell him to does what I ask of him, and follows me silently like a well-trained hound dog. He kind of was like that, except a hound that could fire pure arcane energy out of his paws... or hands.

Did I break him? Again? That’d be annoying.

Once we were clear of any lingering students or nosey professors, I let go and turned to face him. He stood there, staring at me, eyes blank but focused, waiting.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Okay, so, let’s start simple. Do you even know what you just did back there?"

Ronan blinked, slow, calculating. "...I won."

I inhaled deeply through my nose, suppressing the urge to slam my head into the wall. For fuck sake... "Yeah, sure, if you count nearly blowing up half the Academy in the process as ’winning.’" I crossed my arms, watching him closely. "Tell me, did you choose to cast those spells, or did you just kind of... throw magic at the problem and hope for the best?"

A pause. Then: "It worked."

I squinted at him. "That’s not an answer, Ronan.." My eye began to twitch as I forced the frustration deep down inside of me, bottling it up by the case. Problem solved.

"That’s what people say when they don’t know what they’re doing but don’t want to admit it."

He tilted his head slightly, and something about the motion reminded me of a very confused bird trying to understand the concept of glass.

"...It felt natural."

I raised a brow. "Natural?"

"Yes." He flexed his fingers like he was trying to recall the sensation. "Like breathing. It was there, so I used it."

And that confirmed my suspicions. The parasite wasn’t using Ronan’s established talents or wealth of knowledge, it was just using the body like a gun, with its own magic as the bullets. The Ronan before wouldn’t have been able to cast spells like that, not in raw bursts of unrefined sorcery. He had trained to be a mage, a noble’s son taught the proper forms, the controlled incantations, the structure.

Great. So now I had an overpowered sorcerer with the emotional range of a brick.

"Alright," I said, rubbing my chin. "So you felt it. You used it. But tell me this—did you actually control it?"

Ronan hesitated. That tiny flicker of uncertainty returned like he wasn’t sure how to answer.

I sighed. "You didn’t, did you?"

"...No."

At least he was honest. I’d give him that much. Unless he was just responding to my leading question. This is going to be the death of me.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. "Alright, new plan. We’re gonna have to do some serious training before you accidentally vaporize someone important." I motioned for him to follow. "Come on, we need to find Mara." There’s no way I’m qualified enough for this. Worst case scenario is that she finds out too much. At least then it would be out in the open and I could try to regain her trust. Damn... If she knew what happened to the first host, it would shatter her.

Ronan blinked, then trailed behind me, steps even and measured. If nothing else, the parasite at least was obedient. Small victories.

Mara wasn’t hard to find. I could usually track her by following the general aura of frustration and barely contained exasperation she radiated in my direction. Today was no different. She was standing near the ruined courtyard, arms crossed, watching the last of the professors attempt to clean up the mess.

The moment she saw me, her eyes narrowed. "Where the hell did you run off to?"

"Oh, you know. Just dragging Ronan off to have a heart-to-heart about the consequences of reckless magical destruction." I jerked a thumb toward him. "Turns out, he’s got some strong opinions on the matter. You should see how passionately he debated with me."

Ronan, to his credit, remained perfectly blank-faced.

Mara stared between us, lips pressing into a thin line. "You’re kidding."

I gestured at him. "You tell me? Look at that face, he’s barely able to contain his laughter at our practical joke."

It might have been my eyes playing tricks on me, but I thought I saw a bead of drool beginning to form at the corner of his mouth.

She scowled. "Haha, very funny." She said, leading me to question if she actually found these antics funny. On one hand, the scowl on her face and narrowed eyes told me yes. On the other hand, the nonverbal threats of violence told me maybe. Then, she turned her attention fully to Ronan. "And you. What’s your deal? You go from acting like a complete jackass, to a mindless puppet, to some natural disaster personified, throwing out enough raw magic to level half a building?"

Ronan tilted his head again, that same slow, almost mechanical motion. "It worked."

I broke... for once it was actually funny–probably because I wasn’t on the receiving side this time–and I snickered to myself, trying to repress my laughter.

Mara inhaled sharply, rubbing her face. "Oh gods, give me strength. He’s starting to sound like you."

I frowned. "Excuse me?"

She pointed between us, eyes narrowing. "That’s exactly the kind of thing you would say, at least as far as our interactions have shown me. The dodging of questions, the cocky answers, the whole ’it worked, so what’s the problem?’ attitude." Her brows furrowed. "It’s weird. Honestly, it reminds me—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "Never mind. It doesn’t matter."

Oh, it definitely mattered.

I cleared my throat before she could start actually thinking too hard about it. "Mara, focus. Did you see anything before the attack? Someone out of place?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. I saw someone near the edge of the courtyard. They were wearing black—definitely not a student." She frowned. "They didn’t look scared. They weren’t even running when the creature appeared. They just... stood there."

"And then?"

"Right about when I got to you and asked for help, they were gone."

I chewed on that, it matched what I saw and I was becoming more confident with the theory. It wasn’t just another failed summoning gone wrong. Someone was making this happen. Testing something. Seeing how far they could push before someone stopped them.

My brain was already running calculations. Two summoning disasters. Both are progressively worse. And now, a confirmed witness to a mystery figure present at the scene. Someone was pulling strings.

Mara folded her arms. "We should tell the professors."

"Not yet."

She frowned. "Not yet? Caidan, we—"

"We don’t know who to trust," I interrupted, lowering my voice. "Think about it. If someone is doing this on purpose, and they have access to the Academy, then we might already have a problem inside the school."

Mara exhaled, clearly not happy about it, but after a moment, she nodded. "Fine. But we can’t just do nothing."

I grinned. "Who said anything about doing nothing?"

Her eyes narrowed again. "I hate that tone."

You used to love it...

I clapped my hands together. "Alright. Ronan needs training before he blows up a building, and I need to figure out who our mystery summoner is. That means we’ve got work to do."

Mara stared at me, then sighed. "I really hate that tone."

It was so great to be with her again, but god damn, it sure did hurt.

I turned, already planning my next steps. If someone was playing games at this Academy, I intended to find them first. And if Ronan was going to be my unwieldy magical nuke, well, at least I’d be the one holding the detonator.

Ronan wasn’t going to fix himself. That much was obvious. If I wanted him to be more than a walking magical hazard, I needed to step in. And as much as I enjoyed leaving problems alone until they sorted themselves out, something told me this one was just going to get worse if I didn’t intervene.

Which led to me dragging Ronan away again, this time toward one of the more secluded training halls. Mara followed, arms crossed, her glare burning into the side of my head like she was waiting for me to admit I had a terrible idea.

Joke’s on her. I always had terrible ideas.

Once we were inside, I turned to Ronan and gestured vaguely at the space around us. "Alright. Do some magic."

Ronan blinked. "...What kind?"

I waved a hand. "I don’t know. Magic. You’re a sorcerer now, apparently, so let’s see what you can actually do."

He tilted his head, considering that for a moment, then raised his hand.

Before I could even blink, raw energy burst from his palm, streaking across the hall like a bolt of pure destruction. It slammed into the far wall with a deafening boom, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the stone. Dust rained down from the ceiling.

Mara coughed. "Are you kidding me?"

I stared at the smoldering impact point, then slowly turned back to Ronan. He just stood there, arm still extended, as if waiting for approval.

"...Alright," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "So we’ve established that you can cast magic. But maybe let’s work on not making it look like an assassination attempt on the Academy’s architecture."

Mara groaned. "This is a terrible idea."

"Hey," I shot back. "You wanted us to do something. This is something."

She threw up her hands. "Yeah, but training the unstable sorcerer who nearly exploded everyone with his raw presence was not my first thought!"

"Well, what do you suggest?" I gestured at Ronan, who still hadn’t moved. "Just let him wander around and hope he doesn’t sneeze wrong and accidentally vaporize a first-year?"

Mara pinched the bridge of her nose. "I hate that you have a point."

"You’re going to be saying that a lot before the day is over."

She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a threat.

I ignored it and turned back to Ronan. "Alright, new rule. No blasting things unless I say so. Got it?"

He blinked once. "Understood."

"Great. Now let’s try something a little less ’oh god, he blew up my cabbage stand’ and a little more ’Woo, he saved the day, what a precise and controlled use of magic!’"

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small enchanted training orb—one of the standard issue ones used for precision practice. I tossed it into the air. "Hit that. But controlled this time. No overkill."

Ronan watched the orb arc through the air. He raised a hand—too slow, too rigid. Then a pulse of magic shot out, jagged and unrefined. It missed the target entirely, instead obliterating an innocent broom–as far as we knew, I’d seen Fantasia, and those brooms gave Mickey hell– in the corner of the room.

I sighed. "Okay. So precision is also a problem."

Mara folded her arms. "Oh yeah, this is totally a good idea."

I ignored her and turned back to Ronan. "Again."

This time, he adjusted, but not enough. The next blast veered off-course, clipping the edge of the target but still sending residual energy scattering across the hall. Sparks crackled along the walls.

It took three more tries before he actually landed a hit that didn’t feel like he was throwing the equivalent of one of Zeus’ lightning bolts. By the time he did, I was beginning to understand the core problem.

Ronan wasn’t just powerful—he was too powerful. The magic inside him wasn’t structured, wasn’t trained. It was wild, a force barely contained. The parasite had fused with him in a way that made him a conduit rather than a spellcaster. He wasn’t using magic. He was releasing it.

I tapped my chin, thinking. "Alright, new plan. You’re not going to be a precision mage. You’re not going to be a normal mage, period. You’re going to learn how to direct the magic instead of just vomiting it at things and hoping for the best."

Ronan’s head tilted. "How?"

"Great question! No clue."

Mara groaned.

I grinned. "Relax, I’m great at figuring things out as I go."

Mara shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

I tossed another orb in the air. "Alright, Ronan. This time, I want you to feel the magic before you cast it. Hold onto it for a second before you let it go."

He hesitated. Then, for the first time, he actually tried.

I watched as his fingers flexed, the energy gathering at his fingertips—not exploding outward immediately, but coiling, waiting. It flickered, unstable, but there was an attempt at control.

Then he let it loose.

The bolt of energy arced this time, bending midair, correcting itself, and slamming directly into the target.

Mara blinked. "That... was actually half decent."

I smirked. "See? Progress."

Ronan stared at his hand, flexing his fingers. "It felt... different."

"Yeah, that’s called not breaking everything you touch."

I turned, already thinking of the next step. If I could get him to stabilize his casting, then maybe—

BOOM.

I snapped my head back just in time to see a hole where the target used to be.

Ronan blinked at the destruction. "I held back."

I exhaled through my nose. "Sure you did, buddy. Sure you did."

Mara clapped a hand over her face. "We’re all going to die."

"Not today." But later? Yeah. Probably.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺