The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character-Chapter 52: Basic Magic Class [3]

With a smile far too sweet to be genuine, she tilted her head, looking straight at me like I was the star of the show.

"Why don’t you try, Cadet Rin Evans?" she asked, her voice sweet enough to raise every red flag in existence.

That kind of tone didn’t offer a choice—it came wrapped in ribbons, with a big neon sign that said: TRAP.

I froze.

Me? She wanted me to answer?

For a moment, I genuinely considered playing deaf. Maybe fake a cough.

Hell, if I could spontaneously combust, that would’ve been ideal.

But that smile on her face... it wasn’t a smile.

It was a warning.

One of those "If you dodge this, I’ll make you regret being born" kind of smiles. A glint flickered in her eyes, too—dangerous, sharp, and curious.

She was testing me.

I had no choice. Not answering wasn’t just risky—it was practically suicidal.

I let out a shallow breath, stood up slowly, and felt dozens of eyes shift toward me. Some were amused, some bored, and a few were just relieved they weren’t in my position.

"Well..." I started, stalling, giving my brain a second to find the right combination of words. "Magic... is the term used to define the power that manifested after the dimensional collision. But more accurately, it’s the structured control and manifestation of that energy—shaped through conscious will, formulas, and... intent."

Alice tilted her head slightly, her smile unchanged. "Go on."

Great. Of course she wasn’t going to let me stop there. This was practically an oral exam now.

"Like Ryen mentioned," I continued, "magic used to go by many names—chi, chakra, mana—but there were others. Some called it spiritual energy. Some believed it was divine punishment. Others even thought it was alien in origin. But back then, no one really understood it."

I looked around the room. Everyone was quiet.

"But over time, as research progressed, people realized it could be studied, shaped, and even taught. Eventually, it was categorized, standardized, and refined. Systems were built around it—spells, formations, rituals—all methods of turning raw energy into something usable."

I took a breath and wrapped it up.

"The term ’magic’ wasn’t chosen just for convenience—it was meant to separate old superstition from what we now understand as a measurable, scientific phenomenon. It’s no longer just power. It’s structure. It’s knowledge. It’s intent."

And with that, I sat down slowly, trying not to look like my legs were jelly.

Silence.

Then—

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Alice was clapping. And it wasn’t sarcastic.

It was real.

"Well, well," she said, beaming now. "Looks like someone’s done their homework. Or maybe someone just knows how to read between the lines."

A few chuckles broke out around the room. Nothing mean-spirited, for once. Some cadets even glanced my way—surprised, maybe even a little impressed.

Alice turned back to the class.

"That, my dears, is what we call an explanation. Take notes—literally. I won’t be repeating myself."

She flicked her fingers, and glowing notes appeared midair, replacing the disaster of a dog she’d drawn earlier.

Then she looked at me again.

"And Rin Evans—well done," she said with a grin. "You lack confidence, but you just gave the most accurate answer I’ve heard in a long time. I knew you had it in you—that’s why I called on you."

Then her grin sharpened.

"If you’d gotten it wrong though... let’s just say I would’ve had you join me in the research lab for a little while. Purely educational purposes, of course. Haha."

Yeah, no. That laugh wasn’t comforting. That was the laugh of someone who kept weird things in jars.

I barely held back a sigh of relief. Thank God I answered correctly.

Yeah, I survived.

Barely.

After that, Alice continued the lecture, shifting back into full professor mode. Most of it was theory—historical perspectives on magical development, the first few laws of control, and a few confusing diagrams that looked like magical doodles.

But even while she was teaching, her eyes kept drifting toward me and Ryen. Back and forth. Back and forth.

What the hell was she thinking?

Whatever it was... it couldn’t be anything good.

***

After two back-to-back classes, the next thing on the schedule was something sacred.

Lunchtime.

Velcrest Academy’s cafeteria wasn’t just any cafeteria—it was a full-blown buffet, all-you-can-eat style, with food apparently so good it could make you weep.

In the novel, Ryen once yelled, "This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten!" like he was tasting food for the first time after returning from war. So yeah, I had pretty high expectations.

I stood up, stomach grumbling, ready to make my glorious pilgrimage to the land of endless food, when someone called out to me.

"Hey, do you have a minute?"

I turned around, already halfway rejecting them. "No, I’m hungry."

The voice chuckled. "Ah, then let’s go together."

"...Huh?"

That made me pause.

Because standing there, looking casual as ever, was Ryen. The golden boy himself. The actual protagonist of this world.

"Hello," he said, offering a small smile like this was totally normal.

I blinked. "...Uh, yeah. Hi?"

What was I supposed to say? ’Nice to meet you, I know all your future trauma’?

This was weird. Why the hell he’s suddenly he’s talking to me?

Is he also here to offer an position on his team that he would make in future?

Or maybe it was because I refused Leo’s offer earlier? Was that some kind of butterfly effect thing?

Either way, I was starving, and Ryen wasn’t being hostile. He was... surprisingly friendly.

So I forced a smile and nodded. "Sure. Let’s go."

And just like that, I found myself walking side by side with the main character, on our way to lunch.

What could possibly go wrong?

How wrong I was, something wrong happened just right next moment.

Suddenly, before we even exist the classroom, Ryen stopped and said something unexpected to me.

"Ahh! Before we had to the cafeteria, there is something I wanted to tell you."

"Something to tell me? What is it?"

I couldn’t help but ask with forced smile, since I know whatever he says, it won’t be good.