The roots retracted a second later, and the bracelet shattered on the table. Mal reached out with his mana and tried to get the Bramblevine on the bracelet to move. It had the same reaction—the slightest shudder with the roots and thorns popping out, and an immediate dispersal.

  Maybe the frequency was wrong? Mal took out some of the elder root and tried again. It somehow did even worse, just barely managing to make the roots on the ground flicker. Mal added in even more elder root. Maybe he went in the wrong direction. This time, the root failed to move at all. Mal had gotten the frequency right the first time!

  Mal crossed his arms and looked between the bracelet and the roots poking out of the dirt. Did he somehow need to add more power? No, the resonance theory wasn't about power, he'd already determined that. Did he need to be more exact with his frequencies?

  If only Cassandra had been willing to at least give him a small amount of information. He thought back to the book that he'd read in the library. Unfortunately, while there were a handful of practices mentioned, most of them involved ingredients that Mal didn't have, and the author had made no particular attempt to understand the principles underlying witchcraft. No, that wasn't it. Maybe it was the Bramblevine?

  Mal felt his heart sinking. If the wizards were right, and witchcraft truly was a useless, forgotten field, then Mal would be right back where he started from: a useless F-core with no way to get stronger. This had to work.

  He glanced over at his window, then walked over to it. He gave it a tug, then another, and then it slid open with a loud thump. He winced at the noise and hoped that he hadn't woken anybody up. He crawled out of the window and took a sniff of the air. Plant-type mana. Not just that, but Bramblevine specifically. As he walked over to where the smell had come from, it struck him that he'd managed to identify the exact scent of the Bramblevine. It seemed his sense of smell had improved.

  He found a patch of Bramblevine growing on the side of the dormitory building. Luckily, he thought to put his knife in his satchel. He pulled it out and leaned down to harvest when he paused.

  "Please work," he whispered under his breath. "I need this to work. Please."

  He wasn't quite sure who he was talking to. Eternus? Himself? Maybe even the vines themselves. He let out a dry laugh at the last statement. He put the knife to the Bramblevine and carefully sliced off a section of it. Strangely, it didn't react on contact with his fingers. No sudden spikes or wrapping around of his hand.

  Had he gotten defective Bramblevine? He took a closer look and shook his head sharply. No, it was the real deal. Unless there was an exact lookalike that he didn't know about. Not to mention the smell was overwhelming at this close distance. He sighed and put the Bramblevine into his satchel. He walked over to the dormitory window and threw himself back inside.

  He kneeled down and started work on a second bracelet. His hands weaved in and out, trying to hit that exact ratio of elder root to Bramblevine that he'd hit the first time. In a few minutes, he was finished. He touched both hands to the bracelet and focused his mana into it.

  He had barely touched it when spikes burst out along the outside edges of the bracelet. Immediately after, the roots on the ground in front of him shivered, then stretched upward nearly a foot, growing and entangling in every direction.

  As they writhed back and forth, Mal felt a shiver going down his spine.

  He looked down at the bracelet, then slipped it onto his left hand.

  Maybe there was something to this aligned magic stuff after all.

  Mal put the plank back once the roots had retracted back into the ground—a nice bonus, incidentally. Once he was done, he pulled out some papers from his suitcases and started writing down his findings.

  There was definitely something to his theory of resonance, he was certain of that. There were obviously major gaps in his understanding, but the core idea was correct. Not only that, but he confirmed that different magical structures could resonate with each other. By affecting the small Bramblevine, he was able to induce a larger effect on the plants around him. The big question was how aligned mana was playing into this. Was it the fuel? The channel by which all of this was happening? He wasn't sure. What he wouldn't give for some way to observe exactly what was happening in detail.

  Another question was why it'd worked with the second batch of Bramblevine that he'd harvested. Not only that, but there was strange behavior with that second batch that he was unable to replicate with further reproductions of the vine bracelet.

  And yes, he made more reproductions. Of course he did.

  The other ones had been just as effective as the first failure. Which is to say, they weren't effective at all. They also acted like normal Bramblevine, attempting to stab him in his fingers unless he resonated with them.

  The second one didn't act like that at all. Even when he used it, the spikes formed along the outside, almost as if they were trying to avoid injuring him.

  Now this was obviously ridiculous, plants didn't have will or mind or consciousness. But the behavior was extremely strange. Once again, he wished he had the opportunity to pick Cassandra's brain about this. He felt a rush of satisfaction at the fact that he'd managed to accomplish this, even without her help.

  And she though I was just an ordinary wizard, he thought. Would an ordinary wizard be able to do this?

  He allowed himself to bask in the glow of victory for another minute before he rolled his eyes at his own antics.

  "Get over yourself, the world doesn't revolve around you. She wasn't under any obligation to take you on," he said.

  Mal used to be in Endbringer. In a sense, there was a point when the world truly did revolve around his actions, as arrogant as that seemed. But that was in the past. Now, he was no more than a particularly talented student, and even that was stretching it, considering his F-grade core.

  He'd ended up continuing his experimentations long into the night until dawn arrived. When the sunlight started streaming through the window, that was when he realized that he’d probably been up for far, far too long.

  He yawned and tears came to his eyes.

  "Today's gonna be a great day," he muttered. "I'll probably fall asleep halfway through one of my classes, so that'll be great."

  He stumbled over to his front door and opened it up right at the same time as the door opposite him opened up. Philo stared at him with his draconid eyes, a curious expression in his gaze.

  "You look like crap,” Philo said.

  Mal stifled another yawn. "I feel like crap, too." He looked Philo up and down and noticed that he was already fully dressed, robes on and textbooks tucked underneath his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

  "Morning routine. I like to get some exercise in."

  "Wait, that's where you’ve been every morning?" Mal blinked his eyes. "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I definitely wasn't expecting that."

  "Why's that?" Philo said. He didn't sound offended. There was instead a genuinely curious lilt to his tone.

  "I guess it's the bookworm thing." Mal pointed at his textbooks. "I would've thought you'd be at the library or something."

  "Mal, our circle is ranked the lowest on the leaderboard by far. The only times we can access the library are 11 to 4."

  Mal thought back to his whole day study session at the library. "I don't think they actually enforce that, but I hear your point."

  Philo tilted his head at Mal's statement before he seemingly dismissed it in his mind.

  "Anyway," Philo said. “Philo's always been of the opinion that just as the magical core and the body are linked, the body and the mind are linked. Thinking is a physically intensive task. You need stamina to do it for prolonged periods of time. As such, Philo always tries to at least get a morning run in, if not more."

  There was a certain degree of truth to that. Of course, if you were magically gifted enough, your body basically remained in peak condition no matter what you did. All of the S-rankers that Mal had met had perfect bodies that looked like they'd been sculpted by Eternus himself. And there was a reason why Savaly drew so many eyes—it wasn't just because she was powerful. And royalty. And… okay, there were a lot of other reasons why she drew eyes, but one of them was that she was almost supernaturally beautiful.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Not that Mal particularly cared about such things. Carnal activities had always struck him as a waste of time when he had much bigger things to deal with. Romance was out of the question as well, given his rather complicated past. It would be unfair both to him and to the theoretical lady in question for her to have to deal with such things.

  There was one woman who he thought he could've broken that rule for, but she was long dead in another timeline, and there would be no point in pursuing a mere look-alike in the current timeline.

  "Mal? Are you there?"

  Lost in thought again, Mal thought. I really need to fix that.

  Mal shook his head. "Sorry. We were talking about the benefits of training, right?"

  "Yes." Philo paused. "Would you like to join Philo, Mal?"

  Physical training, yes? It sure as hell couldn't hurt, that was for sure. But there might be better uses of his time. Then again, during situations when his magic might be out of the question, maybe it really would come down to whether or not he invested enough in cardio.

  Plus, I might be able to build a closer bond with Philo. And given his status as a future Herald, that can only be a benefit, whether I choose to eliminate him or get him on my side.

  "Not today. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night—“ Read: none. “—but I think I'd be happy to get started tomorrow."

  "Really? That sounds excellent, Mal. Philo looks forward to it."

  Philo looked behind Mal at the rising sun. "You know, it's still another two hours before the others wake up. You could probably grab a quick nap."

  "I think I might just do that. I just hope I'll be able to fall asleep."

  "What about your Restfulness Infusion? Remember, from herbalism?"

  Oh, right. He'd been allowed to keep that. It was just in his satchel.

  "Good idea." Mal glanced back over at his bed, which looked to him to be more appealing than even a brand-new magical core. "You have a good run, Philo."

  He nodded and walked over toward the living room, then stepped outside. Mal went to his satchel, grabbed the infusion, and drank the entire glass vial. It had a pleasantly sweet, almost nectar-like taste. Immediately, he could feel the effect, as his body swayed. He wandered back to his bed and dropped into it like a rock.

  Mal awoke feeling somewhat rested. He sat up and gave a quick stretch, then walked over to the door. He had probably only been asleep for an hour or so, but he felt surprisingly rested.

  Had it been the restful thistle infusion? Did it not only make him sleepy, but also reduce his need for sleep? Now that was intriguing. He would be able to maximize study hours late into the evening using that.

  Deciding that it would be hard for him to fall back asleep, he headed over to the living room and sat down at the table. He was just deciding what he wanted to do with this extra hour of time when he heard something from outside the door. A shuffling noise. Was someone outside the door?

  Mal crept over to the entrance and dropped his body to the ground. From underneath the door he could see four sets of feet. Three of them were on the grass, one was about a foot or two away from the door. Mal got closer and pressed his ear as close to the crack as he could.

  "— Can you believe the way everybody's been acting?" an unfamiliar voice said. "You get unlucky in one fight and suddenly everybody's treating you like a pariah."

  "Not just that, but they're treating him like he's the next coming of the headmaster," someone else said.

  "That seems like a bit of an exaggeration," a new voice said. The voice paused. "I don't know if this is a good idea, guys. What if we’re caught?"

  "We’re not going to get caught."

  Mal's eyes widened. He recognized that voice. It was Hypode. But what was he doing outside of—? They were here to try to get revenge, weren't they?

  The question was how petty would the revenge be? If it was nothing more than something to get his clothes wet, Mal would happily take it on the chin. If his reputation really wasn't blowing up in the way that Hypode's friends were describing, then perhaps this might help to remove some of the glamour of the legend. He could walk around with wet clothes, then tell anybody who asked that he got pranked. Suddenly, he's not the guy who beat Hypode in the duel, instead, he's the guy who got soaked in water like an idiot.

  "I mean… smellskunk venom?" the hesitant voice said. "Isn't that a bit too far?"

  Hypode scoffed. "He'll just smell bad for a few days."

  Mal adjusted his position by the door and frowned. In small doses, it would just make him smell bad, yes. But for several days? Not only that, but depending on the concentration, it could be legitimately dangerous. Mal didn't trust for a second that these idiots had the slightest idea what a safe dosage looked like.

  No, unfortunately, Mal would not be getting soaked in smellskunk venom.

  He thought about what to do. He could bust down the door and knock Hypode's lights out. But then he would quickly get swarmed by the other three. He could prepare an arcane sphere and try a combo attack, but at most he would manage to take out two, and that was if he placed his shots perfectly.

  His eyes flickered over to his left hand, where his new bracelet lay, unassuming. This would be a good opportunity to test out my new toy, Mal thought.

  He grinned devilishly. This was going to be fun.

  Mal touched the bracelet with his mana. Almost instantly, vines sprang out of the ground and wrapped around two students in the back.

  "What the hell?!"

  "They're spiked!" the speaker cried out in pain. "It's digging into my leg!"

  "I—I'm getting out of here, I told you this was a bad idea!"

  "Emerald, get back here—"

  The third set of feet broke into a run. Hypode growled, then ran over to his other two companions. He reached out to try to rip off the vines only for them to snake around his hand. He pulled back in an instant and just barely managed to avoid getting entangled.

  "We must've run into some Bramblevine!" Hypode took a step back. "I don't know what to do!"

  Mal tried to activate his bracelet again. Nothing happened.

  A cooldown, Mal thought. How long does it last?

  It'd been about seven seconds or so. Eight, nine. He tried again. Ten. He gave it another jolt, and vines reached up and wrapped around Hypode.

  Hypode let out a shrill scream. "Damn it! What the hell is happening?!"

  One of the other students let out a groan. "Screw this!"

  The smell of unaligned mana filled the air. There was a flash of light and an arcane sphere blasted down on one of the students' feet. He let out a muffled scream and nearly fell over before he managed to catch himself. The bottom of his robes had been singed and torn apart, while his skin was a bright red.

  "Do it! Just get it off, do it!" Hypode yelled.

  Two more flashes of mana, two more arcane spheres with the same result.

  "Let's just leave, I don't want to step onto anymore Bramblevine patches by accident," one of the other boys said.

  Hypode was quiet for several seconds. "Fine. Let's just chalk it up to bad luck."

  The three scrambled away, and Mal didn't bother to chase them down. He looked over at his bracelet and grinned. "Not half bad."

  The spikes along the exterior of the bracelet retracted. Mal stood up and opened up the door. He peeked left and right to make sure nobody was watching, then looked over his handiwork. The vines and roots had already retracted into the ground, but the evidence of their movement remained: displaced dirt and scorched ground from where the arcane spheres had hit.

  Mal guessed that they were probably heading to Cassandra to get their wounds healed. A glimmer caught his attention. He stepped over to it and brushed away some of the grass to reveal a small vial with a sickly green liquid. Even though it was corked, Mal could taste hints of the odor on the air. It was something halfway between a rotting corpse and… almonds, strangely enough.

  He put the vial into his satchel, then headed back inside and resumed his place at the table. I wonder if they'll try to show up again? he thought. It would be a good chance to gather more data.

  With that pleasant thought, he leaned back and waited for his other roommate to wake up.

  One by one, the rest of the erstwhile party arrived. Nima was up first. Lusia knocked on the door—there'd been a funny look in her eye when she'd entered, as if there'd been something that she wasn't sure what to make of. It disappeared as soon as he'd noticed, so he chose not to comment on it. Rolam was the last to get up.

  There was some brief conversation about the coming classes for the day: spellcraft and potions. When they stepped outside, Nima immediately doubled back.

  “W—why does it look like the grounds were turned into a war zone?" he said.

  Rolam stepped over and examined the ground. "No kidding. There was definitely fire here. And all the soil's been disturbed."

  Nima glanced back over at Mal. "You were up first, did you hear anything?"

  "Not a thing."

  At that, Lusia's neck snapped around toward Mal fast enough that it almost sounded like the movement had cut through the wind.

  Rolam and Philo looked over at her in confusion.

  "Uh, Lusia?" Mal said. "What's up?"

  A frown spread across her face. She slowly shook her head.

  "Nothing, Master." She adjusted the textbooks in her arms. "I believe we're going to be running late if we don't start moving."

  Rolam looked over at Mal with a questioning gaze. Mal responded with a shrug. He had no idea what was up with that, but there was actually something off about the interaction.

  They started walking, and Nima and Rolam got to chatting. Mal, meanwhile, was contemplating the distinct possibility that Lusia had seen him.

  But he would've seen her first, right? And surely she would've said something if she'd seen him poking his head out.

  Er…

  No, she wouldn't have. She would've stood there and probably assume that Mal knew she was there.

  Before Mal could pursue this line of thought any further, the sound of papers fluttering and several loud thuds echoed against his ear. He turned back to see that all of his textbooks were on the ground. Lusia's left eye twitched and her fingers were shaking like she was going to strangle someone.

  “You know, there's no shame in being a little bit clumsy," Mal said.

  She shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

  "It won't happen again, Master."

  She picked up the textbooks one by one. Mal noted that one of them had landed in the grass and was now bearing a brand-new water stain from the morning dew.

  He stepped over to her, kneeled down, and picked up one. “You’re such a workhorse, Lusia. But it’s okay to let others help from time to time.”

  Lusia’s eyes locked onto him. “You’re not supposed to—”

  “I know, I know. But these are my textbooks, so really this is for myself, okay?”

  Her hands froze.

  “Why are you so different?” she muttered.

  “Hm?”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “Nothing.”

  Lusia’s nose twitched and her face scrunched up. “Also, I’m not a horse. I am a human.”

  “I meant that you work hard, Lusia.”

  “I see.”

  They gathered up the textbooks, then continued walking until they finally arrived at the magic theory and spellcasting department.

  Mal felt his heart hammer in his chest. He wouldn't be dealing with Igna, nor with Vigil, nor with Cassandra.

  The first time in this second chance, he would be facing down one of the strongest opponents he'd ever met.

  Puck. Headmaster of Exodi Academy, and teacher of spellcasting fundamentals.