The schedule waiting on Kael's desk the next morning was a sobering reminder of just how far behind he truly was. While regular first-year students had six classes per day, his remedial status meant eight: the standard curriculum plus two additional sessions designed to bring him up to minimum competency.
"Remedial Combat Theory, Remedial Magical Fundamentals, Basic Mathematics..." Marc read over his shoulder with barely concealed sympathy. "They're really not taking any chances with you."
"At least I'm still here," Kael replied, though the schedule felt like a prison sentence. His first class started in twenty minutes, and according to the map, it was on the opposite side of campus.
The Remedial Combat Theory classroom was located in the basement of the training complex, a windowless space that felt more like a dungeon than a place of learning. Five other students were already seated when Kael arrived, all of them looking as uncomfortable as he felt.
Their instructor was Captain Theron Blackwood, a grizzled veteran whose left arm ended in a magical prosthetic that gleamed with runic inscriptions. His introduction was characteristically blunt.
"You're here because you failed to demonstrate basic combat competency," he announced without preamble. "In the real world, that failure would get you killed. In this classroom, it just means you'll work twice as hard as everyone else until you're not a liability to your future teammates."
The lesson that followed was an exercise in controlled humiliation. Blackwood demonstrated basic sword forms that regular students had mastered years ago, then watched with obvious disappointment as his remedial class struggled to replicate even the simplest movements.
"Thornwick," he called after Kael's attempt at a basic parry went disastrously wrong. "What exactly were you trying to accomplish there?"
"A defensive position, sir?"
"That wasn't defensive. That was suicidal." Blackwood stepped forward, moving Kael's arms into the correct position with mechanical precision. "Your stance is too narrow, your grip too tight, and your timing is abysmal. How did you survive an encounter with a void creature?"
"Luck, sir."
"Luck isn't a sustainable strategy." The captain stepped back, shaking his head. "Again. And this time, try to remember that your sword is supposed to be between you and your opponent's weapon, not twisted behind your back like a pretzel."
The other students snickered quietly, though their own performances had been hardly better. Kael gritted his teeth and tried again, drawing on months of system-guided practice. The form was still imperfect, but marginally improved.
"Better," Blackwood grudged. "Barely. Practice this stance for an hour every evening until it becomes instinctive. Next!"
[SKILL PROGRESSION: Basic Swordsmanship 1.2 → 1.4][Note: Formal instruction accelerating skill development]
The system's notification provided some consolation, though it also highlighted how much progress he still needed to make.
Magical Humiliation
If Combat Theory was humbling, Remedial Magical Fundamentals was devastating. Professor Elara Moonweave, a patient woman who clearly specialized in working with struggling students, began with what she called "absolutely basic principles."
"Magic is the manipulation of ambient mana through focused will and proper technique," she explained to her class of six remedial students. "Can anyone tell me the three fundamental requirements for successful spellcasting?"
A girl with the distinctive silver hair of northern Valeria raised her hand confidently. "Intent, focus, and energy control."
"Excellent, Miss Silverbrook. Now, can anyone demonstrate a basic mana sensing exercise?"
What followed was a masterclass in the difference between theoretical knowledge and practical ability. Three of the students managed competent demonstrations of sensing ambient magical energy. Two others showed clear potential despite obvious inexperience.
Then it was Kael's turn.
He closed his eyes and reached out with his magical senses, feeling for the familiar tingle of mana in the environment. The technique that had seemed so natural during his desperate rift-closing attempt now felt clumsy and uncertain under scrutiny.
There—a faint warmth that indicated magical energy flowing through the room's crystal lighting system. He concentrated, trying to trace the energy patterns...
"I can sense the lighting crystals," he said hesitantly.
"Good," Professor Moonweave encouraged. "What else?"
Kael stretched his perception further, feeling for other sources. The professor herself radiated significant magical energy, as did several of his classmates. There was something else, though—a strange distortion in the magical field that he couldn't quite identify.
"There's something... unusual," he said slowly. "Like a void in the magical field."
Professor Moonweave's expression sharpened with interest. "Where?"
Kael pointed toward the back corner of the classroom. "Over there. It's not exactly empty, but the mana feels... wrong."
The professor moved to investigate, her own magical senses probing the area Kael had indicated. After a moment, she frowned and traced a complex pattern in the air. A small object materialized—a practice dummy that had been enchanted with concealment magic.
"Remarkable," she murmured. "This dummy was enchanted to be undetectable to basic magical senses. How did you perceive it?"
"I... I'm not sure," Kael admitted. "It just felt different from the rest of the room."
"That shouldn't be possible with your level of training," said Miss Silverbrook with obvious skepticism. "Are you sure you're not making it up?"
The accusation stung, partly because Kael himself wasn't entirely sure how he'd detected the concealed object. The system had enhanced his magical efficiency, but sensing through illusion magic was far beyond what he should have been capable of.
"Mr. Thornwick's detection is legitimate," Professor Moonweave said firmly. "Though I admit I'm curious about the mechanism. Your magical capacity is below average, but your sensitivity appears to be quite unusual."
[SKILL UNLOCKED: Magical Perception (Novice)][Note: Void exposure may have enhanced dimensional sensitivity]
The system's explanation made sense, though it raised uncomfortable questions about what other effects his encounter with abyssal energy might have had.
The rest of the class focused on basic mana manipulation exercises that Kael struggled with despite his unusual perceptive abilities. His cursed bloodline made energy control difficult, requiring twice the effort to achieve half the results of his classmates.
Academic Disasters
Mathematics was mercifully straightforward, though Kael quickly discovered that "basic" mathematics at the academy level was considerably more advanced than anything he'd encountered on the farm. The instructor, a bored-looking man who seemed to view remedial teaching as punishment duty, rattled through concepts at a pace that left most of the students scrambling to keep up.
History was worse. Professor Adelaide Fairwind was enthusiastic about her subject but assumed a level of background knowledge that Kael simply didn't possess. References to the Second Kingdom War, the Great Convergence Treaty, and the Draconic Accords flew over his head like arrows in a hurricane.
"The political ramifications of the Ironhold Mining Compact fundamentally altered the economic balance between the three kingdoms," she explained with obvious passion. "Can anyone tell me how this affected trade relations during the subsequent decade?"
Hands shot up around the classroom. Kael sank lower in his seat, hoping to remain invisible.
"Mr. Thornwick," Professor Fairwind called, apparently having different ideas about invisibility. "What's your perspective on the Mining Compact's impact?"
"I... don't know, Professor," he admitted.
"You don't know?" Her surprise seemed genuine. "It's one of the most significant political developments of the past century. Surely you studied this in your preparatory education?"
"I didn't have preparatory education, Professor. I'm from a farming village."
The silence that followed was deafening. Several students turned to stare at him with expressions ranging from curiosity to barely concealed contempt. Professor Fairwind's face went through several different expressions before settling on something that might have been sympathy.
"I see," she said finally. "Well, we'll need to arrange some supplementary reading for you. Please see me after class."
The rest of the period was agony. Every question highlighted another gap in his knowledge, another reminder that he was fundamentally unprepared for this environment. By the time class ended, he felt like he'd been systematically dismantled.
Monster Studies Catastrophe
If he'd thought the previous classes were humiliating, Monster Studies was a complete disaster. Professor Gareth Ironscale—a scarred veteran who'd apparently lost his left eye to something with very large claws—began with what he called a "basic review of fundamental monster classifications."
"The Arachnid family is subdivided into six major categories," he announced, gesturing to a collection of preserved specimens that made Kael's skin crawl. "Tunnel Weavers, Venom Spinners, Crystal Spiders, Dire Widows, Phase Stalkers, and Dimensional Hunters. Each requires different tactical approaches and specialized equipment."
He pointed to a student in the front row. "Miss Goldmere, describe the preferred hunting method of a Phase Stalker."
"They use dimensional magic to appear behind their prey," the girl responded confidently. "Standard countermeasures include reality anchors and area-of-effect attacks to prevent repositioning."
"Correct. Mr. Blackthorne, what's the most effective weapon type against Crystal Spider carapaces?"
"Blunt weapons or earth magic," another student replied. "Blades just bounce off, and most elemental attacks are ineffective due to their crystalline structure."
The questions continued, each highlighting the vast gap between formal monster education and Kael's limited experience. When Professor Ironscale finally called on him, it was with a question that seemed almost designed to showcase his ignorance.
"Mr. Thornwick, you're the only student in this room who's actually encountered an abyssal creature in combat. Please describe the tactical differences between void-touched monsters and their natural counterparts."
Every eye in the classroom turned to him. This should have been his moment to shine, to demonstrate that practical experience counted for something. Instead, he found himself struggling to articulate concepts he'd learned through desperate improvisation.
"They're... more unpredictable," he said hesitantly. "The void wolf I fought didn't behave like a normal wolf. It was more aggressive, and its attacks seemed to drain energy somehow."
"That's it?" Professor Ironscale's tone suggested deep disappointment. "You faced a void-corrupted creature and the best analysis you can provide is that it was 'more aggressive'?"
"I was trying not to die at the time, sir."
A few students chuckled, but the professor wasn't amused. "Survival is irrelevant if you learn nothing from the experience. Abyssal corruption typically enhances aggression, grants supernatural resilience, and often manifests reality-distorting effects. The energy drain you mentioned suggests a Grade 2 or higher corruption level. These are critical tactical details that could save lives."
Kael felt his face burning with embarrassment. The professor was right—he'd survived his encounter through luck and desperation, not skill or knowledge. The experience that had gotten him admitted to the academy was actually proof of how much he didn't know.
"Perhaps," Professor Ironscale continued with obvious skepticism, "your admission was based more on politics than competence."
The words hit like a physical blow. Around the classroom, he could see students nodding in agreement, their expressions confirming what he'd feared since arriving—that he didn't belong here.
The Breaking Point
By the time his final class ended, Kael felt like he'd been fed through a grinding machine. Every subject had exposed new inadequacies, every instructor had found new ways to highlight his limitations. The other students' whispered conversations followed him through the halls like a chorus of judgment.
"Did you see him in Combat Theory? I've seen children with better sword work."
"How did he even pass the assessments? Standards must be slipping."
"I heard it was a political favor. Some nobleman wanted to look progressive by sponsoring a peasant."
He made it to his dormitory before the humiliation overwhelmed him. Marc wasn't there—probably attending the advanced classes that Kael wasn't qualified for. He sat on his narrow bed, staring at his schedule and wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake.
[DAILY QUEST FAILED: MAINTAIN CONFIDENCE][Penalty: -10% learning efficiency for 24 hours][Note: Emotional state affecting system optimization]
Even the system seemed disappointed in him.
A knock on his door interrupted his spiral of self-doubt. He opened it to find Luna Whisperwind standing in the hallway, her expression sympathetic.
"Rough first day?" she asked gently.
"Catastrophic," he admitted.
"Mind if I come in? I thought you might want to talk to someone who understands."
Luna's presence was oddly comforting. Unlike the other students he'd encountered, she didn't seem to be judging his performance or calculating his weaknesses.
"How bad was it?" she asked, settling into Marc's chair.
"Every class was a reminder that I don't belong here," Kael said honestly. "I can barely handle the basics, and everyone else is years ahead of me."
"You know what I noticed today?" Luna said thoughtfully. "In Magical Fundamentals, when you detected that concealed dummy? Professor Moonweave was genuinely impressed. That's not something she shows lightly."
"One lucky guess doesn't make up for everything else."
"It wasn't luck, though. I was sitting right next to you, and I couldn't sense anything unusual about that corner. Neither could anyone else." Luna leaned forward. "You have abilities that others don't. They're just different from what the academy typically rewards."
"Different doesn't help when I can't keep up with the coursework."
"Then we'll help you catch up," she said simply. "That's what the probationary students do—we support each other."
Before Kael could respond, Marc burst through the door with his usual energy. "There you are! I heard about your exciting first day. Professor Moonweave was telling everyone about your detection abilities."
"She was?"
"Apparently, you impressed several faculty members. Not with your academic knowledge, obviously," Marc grinned, "but with your potential. Professor Ironscale might have been harsh, but I heard him telling another instructor that your practical experience was 'crude but genuine.'"
"That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"From him, it is. He's seen too many students who know theory but fall apart when facing real danger." Marc sat on his own bed, expression growing serious. "Look, I know today was brutal. Everyone's first day here is brutal. But you're not the first student to arrive unprepared, and you won't be the last."
Luna nodded in agreement. "The academy has support systems for a reason. Study groups, tutoring programs, peer mentoring. You just have to be willing to use them."
"And willing to work harder than everyone else," Marc added. "But you've been doing that your whole life, haven't you?"
Looking at his new friends, Kael felt something loosening in his chest. The day had been humiliating, yes, but it hadn't been the end of the world. He was still here, still enrolled, still had a chance to prove himself.
"What do I need to do?" he asked.
"First, stop feeling sorry for yourself," Luna said with a slight smile. "Then, we start studying. Together."
[QUEST UPDATED: ACADEMIC RECOVERY][Objective: Improve performance in all subjects][Support system available: Study group formed][New opportunity: Prove belonging through effort, not background]
The system's quest update reflected his renewed determination. Tomorrow would be another day of challenges, another opportunity to face his limitations head-on. But this time, he wouldn't be facing them alone.
"Alright," he said, reaching for his books. "Where do we start?"
Marc grinned and pulled out his own materials. "With everything. We've got a lot of ground to cover."