CHAPTER 128: JAE’S STRUGGLE

Jae had never considered how undignified it was to trip with his pants halfway down, but he learned quickly the moment his boot caught the edge of the desk leg. The stumble was clumsy, graceless, and impossible to style into anything remotely cool. He hit the stone floor with a solid thud that echoed through the classroom.

For a second there was silence. Then Tirel, standing a few steps away, froze mid-movement. Her lips parted, and he could almost see the war inside her: concern first, then amusement, then the overwhelming need to laugh.

She tried to swallow it down. She really did. But the effort lasted only a heartbeat. Her laugh broke out bright and unrestrained, bouncing off the walls of the empty room, rich enough to make Jae’s ears burn.

"You..." she gasped between fits of laughter, bracing herself on the edge of a desk, "you actually fell! And like that? Gods, Jae, I thought you were supposed to be graceful."

Jae pushed himself up, brushing imaginary dust from his bare legs, heat creeping into his cheeks though his mouth curved with a grin.

"I’ll get you back for that," he said, voice mock-serious. But the sparkle in his eye betrayed him, and by the time he tugged his trousers back up and buckled them, he was already smirking.

Tirel strolled over, still chuckling, her steps slow and deliberate. She looped her arms around him without hesitation, pressing her forehead briefly against his shoulder. "You’re ridiculous," she murmured, the laughter softening into warmth. "But I enjoyed our training."

Jae exhaled, amused, one hand lingering at her hip. "We could always do more training later," he said, letting the implication hang. His smile was sly, red eyes glinting. "Say... in my bedroom?"

Tirel leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, a crooked grin tugging at her lips. "That’s too cliché," she said, tone teasing, almost dismissive, though her eyes betrayed that she was amused by the suggestion. "But I’ll think about it."

He chuckled, shaking his head as she slipped free of his hold, already gathering her things like nothing had happened.

XXX

The next morning came with the usual bustle of academy life. The training halls echoed with students sparring; the libraries were alive with the rustle of parchment and muttered incantations.

By the time Jae stepped into the lecture chamber, his thoughts had shifted away from the previous night’s stumble.

Mrs. Liara stood at the front of the class, her presence as commanding as ever. She was not tall, nor particularly imposing, yet her calm tone and sharp gaze kept even the rowdiest students silent. She began outlining the day’s lesson with crisp clarity.

"Today," she said, "you will all be practicing the ’Mana Thread’ technique. It is a foundational weave, meant to stabilize your channels and prevent excess leakage during combat. Watch carefully."

She lifted her hand, and a single, silken thread of blue mana unspooled between her fingers, shimmering faintly in the air. It hovered with delicate precision, unwavering despite the subtle tremor of ambient energy around it. She dispelled it with a flick, and her eyes swept over the rows of students.

"Now, your turn. Focus. Control matters more than raw power."

The class stirred with anticipation. One by one, students began their attempts. Some succeeded, thin strands of mana shimmering faintly in the air between their hands. Others failed, producing unstable flickers that dissolved almost immediately.

Each success or failure was met with the murmurs of peers, quiet encouragements, soft sighs of frustration, the occasional smug grin.

When it came to Jae’s turn, the room fell into an unusual hush. His reputation preceded him: he was strong, fast, known for raw talent and decisive strikes. Everyone expected brilliance.

Jae raised his hand, channeling his energy with steady focus. The first attempt fizzled. The mana sparked, wavered, and collapsed before it could form a thread.

Brows furrowed across the room.

He tried again. This time the energy warped, twisted, and broke apart with an audible pop.

The silence shattered as Sun, sitting two rows back, let out a loud laugh. "What’s the matter, Jae? Did you forget how to be a prodigy?" His tone dripped with smug delight, his laughter loud enough to draw every eye.

Jae’s lips tugged into a faint shrug. "Guess I’m having a bad day," he said lightly, refusing to give Sun the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.

Elise, sitting close by, leaned forward with a gentle smile. "Don’t worry. It’s probably just nerves. Breathe, reset, and try again."

He gave her a nod, then closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Focus. Steady hands. Calm channeling. He lifted his palm once more, only for the thread to spark, writhe, and collapse yet again.

This time Sun laughed even harder, clutching his desk like the sight was the funniest thing he had seen all year. "Unbelievable! The mighty Jae can’t even manage a beginner’s weave!"

Mrs. Liara’s eyes snapped toward Sun. Her voice cut through the noise with sharp authority. "Enough. Do not mock your peers."

She turned toward Jae, her tone softening, though it remained firm. "It is not unusual for even gifted mages to find certain areas more difficult than others. You will need practice. Do not be discouraged."

Sun leaned back, smirking, unable to keep his tongue still. "I wouldn’t know. I don’t struggle with anything."

The teacher’s gaze narrowed. "Then perhaps your arrogance will be the lesson you fail. Do not interrupt again."

The class ended soon after, the atmosphere buzzing with whispers. Some students seemed amused, others unsettled, as if seeing Jae falter had upended their expectations.

Byun, who had remained quiet through the lesson, approached Jae as the others filtered out. "You really couldn’t do it?" His expression was cautious, his tone uncertain.

Jae spread his hands with a helpless smile. "Looks that way."

Byun frowned, studying him with eyes that lingered too long. "It shouldn’t be difficult. Not for you." Suspicion clouded his face as he finally gave a short nod and walked away, thoughts clearly turning behind his gaze.

Jae exhaled, shaking his head, and waited until the room had emptied. Mrs. Liara remained at her desk, sorting through notes and parchment.

He approached quietly. She looked up, her eyes softening when she saw him. "Don’t take it too harshly," she said. "Every mage has weaknesses. This is just one area where you’ll need more time."

Jae leaned against the edge of a desk, his voice lower, carrying a hint of frustration he hadn’t shown earlier. "It’s not just time, is it? I’d like a private lesson. Something more focused. If I don’t get this under control, it’ll hold me back."