The Extra Wants Control

A hush fell over the hundred top students as a figure materialized in front of the large classroom board. It was a woman, undeniably beautiful, with scales shimmering a vibrant blue across her cheekbones and forearms – a testament to her draconic heritage. Her short, blue hair framed sharp features and eyes that mirrored the color of her scales.

The seating arrangement resembled an amphitheater, rising tier by tier. In the back row, reserved for the five Blessed, a flicker of curiosity crossed their faces. Neveah, however, sat in the middle of the room, his head propped on his hand, seemingly unimpressed by the dramatic entrance.

The woman's voice, laced with a hint of amusement, echoed through the room. "I lowered my power level to that of a six-star mage, yet only six of you noticed my presence. The Blessed, of course, and that human girl… next to the top student." Her gaze flickered to Neveah, who remained nonchalantly propped up on his hand.

A ripple of unease passed through the class. A six-star? Most of them hadn't even reached that level yet. "Disappointing," Aqua, as she introduced herself, continued, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "Disgustingly weak. Your performance at the recent royal test was also a pathetic display.

But that's why I'm here, I suppose. To mold you into something… less pathetic."

A collective gulp rose from the students. Being called weak by a six-star was one thing, but to be deemed so lacking by a being of such immense power? It was a humbling blow.

"Welcome, then," Aqua declared, a hint of a predatory smile playing on her lips, "to Circle Theory 101. My name is Aqua, and consider yourselves fortunate to have me as your instructor."

A tense silence followed Aqua's explanation. The water droplet incident with the lionkin student served as a stark reminder of the immense power held by their new instructor. Neveah, however, seemed unfazed, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Now, what is circle theory?" Aqua's voice boomed once more, dispelling the silence. "It's the art of creating, drawing, and manipulating magic circles to imbue flexibility in your spells. Imagine you want to raise a barrier using your elements. The basic method would be to brute force it with raw mana, but to create something truly profound and sturdy, a magic circle is your answer."

She gestured towards a holographic display illustrating a complex, rune-etched circle. "Circles are excellent for building powerful effects, but they have a drawback. On the battlefield, where speed is paramount, forming them takes valuable time, leaving you vulnerable."

A lionkin boy in the front row, emboldened by a surge of courage (or perhaps stupidity), piped up, "Then why teach us something that..." His question was cut short by a well-aimed water droplet that materialized in his mouth, causing him to sputter and choke.

"Don't interrupt," Aqua said curtly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Ask questions only when permitted. As I was saying, circles offer refined control and stronger spells. While they might not be ideal for the heat of battle in your current states, everything has its place. With higher proficiency, formation times decrease significantly.

Circle application extends beyond combat; it's a cornerstone in engineering, alchemy, summoning, and a plethora of other disciplines."

For the next two hours, Aqua delved deeper into the intricacies of circle theory, explaining the various components – activation runes and commands, elemental compatibility, and stabilizing sigils – that formed the backbone of a potent magic circle. The students diligently took notes, the weight of knowledge and Aqua's sharp demeanor sinking in.

After a detailed explanation and a few well-placed demonstrations (none involving waterboarding lionkin students), Aqua finally reached the climax of the lesson.

Finally, with a sigh, Aqua ended the lecture. "Alright, for your first assignment, I want you to create a circle that can output a chain of spells, each one a variation of your element," she said, her gaze sweeping across the classroom. "Focus on versatility and control within the circle. Dismissed."

Neveah exited the classroom, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips. "She's a good teacher," he conceded, acknowledging Aqua's clear explanation of circle theory. "But that look..." he trailed off, recalling the piercing gaze Aqua had directed at him specifically when mentioning those who'd sensed her presence. He'd detected her, true, but had chosen to ignore her dramatics.

"Whatever," he muttered, dismissing the lingering thought.

He navigated the bustling hallways, weaving through a sea of students clad in their black uniforms. Each student sported a blazer adorned with a colored streak that denoted their race. A quick scan revealed the humans in their cerulean blue, elves in vibrant green, dwarves in a stoic grey, beastmen in a fiery orange, and dragons in a regal gold.

His own eyes flickered to the crimson streak on his blazer, a silent indicator of his vampiric heritage.

The air crackled with nervous energy as Neveah and the other students reached the arena. In the center stood Eliana, a vision in a form-fitting black battle suit that left little to the imagination. Her fiery red hair, tied back in a high ponytail, framed her crimson eyes, which scanned the students with an intimidating intensity.

Even the ever-confident Azrael seemed momentarily speechless, his gaze locked on her.

Neveah, however, was oblivious to Eliana's magnetic presence. His attention was drawn to the arena itself, his eyes tracing the intricate magic circles etched into the floor and walls. Each circle pulsed with a faint luminescence, hinting at their potential uses. A mental note was made – he'd have to decipher the circles later, their purpose an intriguing mystery.

"Four minutes late," Eliana boomed, her voice echoing through the vast chamber. "Let this be the last time. I have no tolerance for indiscipline." A collective gulp rippled through the group.

"Now," she continued, her tone softening slightly, "I'm Eliana, your homeroom teacher and combat instructor. We'll be diving into various combat scenarios – sparring, simulations, and eventually, live battles with real stakes. Today, however, we focus on choosing your weapons."

With a flick of her wrist, Eliana drew a complex magic circle in the air. Light swirled within the shimmering glyph, activating a hidden mechanism. The north wall rumbled as large cabinets groaned open, revealing an arsenal of weapons within.

"Whoa," a murmur erupted through the class as they gawked at the gleaming axes, swords, and staves lining the compartments. "What circle was that?" Neveah thought, his mind already dissecting the intricate patterns. He'd attempt to replicate it later, the knowledge a potential advantage.

For now, he opted for practicality. While his preferred weapon was a construct of ice, conjured at will, this first class demanded conformity. He strode towards the spear section, his crimson eyes narrowing in concentration as he chose a weapon with a perfectly balanced weight.

Elsewhere, Azrael chose a longsword, its polished surface catching the light. Vera, opted for a sleek staff,she channeled causing the tip to crackle with barely contained magical energy. Axl, lumbered towards the broadswords, his burly frame dwarfing the weapon. Kim, grabbed a short sword, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Lara, the stoic huntress, reached for a gleaming bow, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings on its frame. Astrid, the powerful Valkyrie, hefted a massive battle axe, her face a mask of resolute determination.

After chosing weapons, Eliana said the most outrageous thing the students ever heard.

Vera's voice squeaked, "Uh, Miss Eliana… how exactly are you going to spar with all hundred of us?"

Eliana's lips twitched as if stifling a smile. "Simple," she declared, her voice ringing across the arena. "You all attack me at once. Now, begin!"

A stunned silence hung in the air for a beat. Then, a student cleared his throat. "Are you… serious?"

'How is she going to fight and teach us at the same time?' thought many students.

Eliana's smile vanished. "Dead serious."

A nervous silence descended upon the arena as Eliana finished outlining the sparring session. "Now that you're armed," she stated in a voice devoid of warmth, "you'll be facing me in combat. I will identify your weaknesses and attempt to rectify them."

Vera, ever the pragmatist, voiced the collective apprehension. "Um... Miss Eliana," she stammered, "how exactly do you propose we all spar with you at once?"

A chilling smile played on Eliana's lips. "Oh, you'll attack all at once," she declared, her words holding no room for debate. "NOW, BEGIN!"

Before the students could fully register the command, Neveah launched himself forward, the tip of his chosen spear aimed straight for Eliana's chest. His attack was swift and decisive, but... Eliana barehanded, she moved with lightning speed. With a single, outstretched finger, she deflected the spear's point, the metal groaning under the force. Then, a resounding slap echoed across the arena.

Eliana had struck Neveah across the face, the blow sending him stumbling backward.

Stunned silence gave way to a cacophony of shouts as the other students, emboldened by Neveah's audacity, surged forward. It was chaos. Swords clashed against the arena floor, spells erupted in flashes of light, and the air thrummed with raw magical energy. But Eliana was a storm in the midst of the maelstrom. Her movements were a blur of deadly grace.

One by one, students were disarmed, their attacks countered with brutal efficiency.

The Blessed, as expected, fared slightly better. Azrael, with his dazzling swordsmanship, managed to make a few glancing blows before being disarmed, blocked or parried and sent sprawling. The others, too, displayed a level of control and technique that set them apart from the rest. But even they were no match for Eliana's relentless assault.

Neveah, however, was a different story. Having recovered from the slap with unnatural speed, he attacked again. This time, he dodged her counter, only to be met by a bone-crushing kick to his ribs that sent him flying. Yet, he was up in an instant, a with a crazed smile.

( Is he a pervert why is he smiling after getting beat up?) Thought Kim as well as the other students.

The two-and-a-half-hour session was a brutal dance of violence. The air grew thick with sweat and the metallic tang of blood. Finally, Eliana called a halt. Seventy-five percent of the students lay sprawled on the arena floor, nursing bruises and ego wounds.

"Seventy-five percent of you," Eliana began, her voice cutting through the groans of pain, "have no technique in fighting. You flail around like children!"

A lionkin student, his uniform covered with blood, dared to interject. "But that's what makes our moves unpredictable!" he roared.

" A foolish notion," Eliana retorted sharply her gaze pinned him like a butterfly to a board. "Techniques allow you to channel raw power with precision, not waste it in random attacks. You, the ones with wasted potential," she continued, her gaze sweeping across the room, "have two choices. You can cling to your pathetic attempts at combat, or you can learn."

She moved through the room, her sharp eyes scanning the fallen students. On some foreheads, a red mark materialized, on others yellow, green, or blue. It was clear she had been assessing them during the fight.

She then revealed the marks she'd placed on each student during the fight – red for the most deficient, yellow for those lacking proficiency, green for those with promising techniques but needing honing, and blue for those with good foundation and potential. Each mark came with a recommendation: a fighting style and a suitable weapon tailored to their needs.

The room erupted in a low murmur of surprise. Not only had she fought them all simultaneously, but she'd analyzed their strengths and weaknesses on the fly.

Awe rippled through the crowd. Not only had she fought them all at once, but she had also managed to analyze their individual weaknesses while doing so.All this in real time.

Lara, the archer, voiced the question hanging in the air. "Miss, what about us, the Blessed? We haven't been marked."

Eliana's answer was curt. "The Blessed have techniques honed by your races. The remaining few," she gestured towards the students most likely from prominent families, "likely have access to refined methods from their own lineage."

Her gaze then fell on Neveah, who stood silently with his arms crossed, eyes closed.

As the dismissed students shuffled out, some muttering about the fight, others nursing their injuries, Kim pointed at Neveah, who was walking away with his eyes closed and hands pocketed. "What about him? He wasn't marked, and I didn't see him using a technique."

Eliana's reply as she dismissed Kim and walked away. "Wrong. He is using a technique. If you want further information, ask him yourself."