Extra To Protagonist

Nathan stood at the front of the class, rolling his shoulders like a man walking to his execution. He glanced back at Merlin, eyes full of silent betrayal.

Merlin ignored him.

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Sophia tapped her fingers against her desk. "Well? We're waiting. Demonstrate it in the air whilst using Mana. Not on paper this time."

Nathan exhaled, holding out his hand. Mana flared around his fingertips as he began tracing a rune in the air—his movements quick, but slightly messy. The symbols formed in glowing streaks of blue, crackling with unstable energy.

'He's cooked.'

Merlin could already see the issue.

'He's going too fast. The structure isn't stable.'

Sophia clearly saw it too, because she crossed her arms, unimpressed.

Nathan gritted his teeth, finishing the last stroke. The rune hovered for a second—before flickering violently and shattering apart with a loud snap.

The force sent a sharp gust of wind through the room, scattering loose papers off desks. A few students coughed as dust was kicked up.

Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Nathaniel," she said, voice heavy with exhaustion. "Do you ever practice?"

Nathan scratched his head. "I mean—depends on your definition of practice."

"The actual definition."

"…Then no."

Merlin exhaled slowly.

Sophia closed her eyes, visibly restraining herself. "I suppose I should be glad it didn't explode."

"That can happen?" Nathan blinked. "Wait—why didn't you warn me?!"

Sophia ignored him. "Merlin."

Merlin tensed slightly. "…Yes?"

"You do it."

Nathan perked up immediately. "Oh, this I gotta see." He stepped aside, grinning. "No pressure, buddy."

Merlin sighed, stepping forward. He held out his hand, letting mana flow to his fingertips.

'Slow. Controlled.'

He traced the rune carefully, each stroke deliberate. The glowing lines formed in precise arcs, locking together seamlessly. Energy pulsed through the symbols, stabilizing into a smooth, steady glow.

Silence.

Sophia nodded approvingly. "Good. That is what a proper dynamic reinforcement looks like."

Nathan let out a low whistle. "Damn. Show-off."

Merlin ignored him, dispersing the rune.

Sophia turned back to the class. "This is the difference between understanding theory and actually practicing it." She shot Nathan a pointed look.

Nathan raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it."

Sophia exhaled. "Moving on. Open the textbooks that are on your tables on page 143. We'll be covering multi-layered rune arrays next."

As students shuffled through their books, Nathan leaned toward Merlin, whispering, "Seriously though. How the hell are you that precise?"

Merlin didn't answer immediately.

'Because I have to be better than you.'

He glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers. The muscle memory was there—engrained deeper than it should have been. A skill he hadn't even known he had before coming here.

The weight of unseen eyes lingered at the back of his mind.

But he pushed the thought away.

"It's just practice," he muttered.

Nathan squinted at him. "…I feel like you're lying."

Merlin didn't respond.

'I am..'

—

The lesson dragged on, Sophia's voice steady as she explained the intricacies of multi-layered rune arrays.

Most students followed along with varying degrees of success—some nodding in understanding, others furrowing their brows as they scribbled notes.

Merlin, however, barely needed to listen.

'It's the same as in the novel.'

His fingers idly traced symbols on the desk as Sophia spoke. Runes, formulas, mana pathways—it was all information he had memorized long before coming here. It was strange, in a way. This knowledge belonged to Merlin Everhart, the character, but somehow, it had settled into him as though it had always been there.

A quiet sigh from beside him drew his attention.

Nathan was staring at his textbook with the expression of a man being personally victimized by academia.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Struggling?"

Nathan groaned, slumping forward. "This stuff makes no sense. How am I supposed to layer runes when I can barely make a single one?"

Merlin considered pointing out that this wouldn't be a problem if Nathan actually practiced—but decided against it.

Instead, he grabbed a spare piece of parchment and began sketching.

"Look," he muttered, drawing out a basic two-layer formation. "You're overcomplicating it. The key is synchronization. If the first rune is stable, the second needs to align at matching mana intervals, or else the entire structure collapses."

Nathan blinked. He glanced between the diagram and Merlin. "…Okay, that actually made more sense than the last twenty minutes of lecture."

Merlin didn't bother responding.

From the front of the room, Sophia's voice cut through the murmurs. "Since we're short on time, we'll test your understanding directly." She scanned the class, then pointed at Merlin and Nathan. "You two. Demonstrate a two-layered array."

Nathan stiffened. "Uh—what?"

Merlin sighed, already raising his hand. He formed the first rune with ease, its glow steady and refined. "Just follow my lead."

Nathan hesitated, then held up his own hand.

Mana flared at his fingertips. He began tracing his rune, slower this time—more careful. His movements weren't as fluid as Merlin's, but at the very least, the structure wasn't immediately collapsing.

Merlin adjusted his output, synchronizing their flows.

The runes hovered in the air, faint arcs of energy flickering between them. The layers locked into place—unsteady, but functional.

Sophia nodded. "Passable."

Nathan deflated in relief. "Thank the gods—"

The array shattered.

A small burst of static crackled between them, and Nathan yelped, shaking his hand. "Ow—okay, what was that?!"

Sophia sighed. "Mana instability. Your control still needs work."

Nathan grumbled under his breath, rubbing his fingers. "I hate runes."

Merlin simply shook his head.

The class continued.

—

By the time the lesson ended, the ache in Merlin's ribs had dulled into a manageable throb. The pain was easy to ignore—his body would recover. What lingered, however, was something far more frustrating.

'Not enough.'

Not enough strength. Not enough speed. Not enough skill.

He clenched his fists. The memory of his fight with Vivienne replayed in his mind, over and over. The sheer gap between them was suffocating. He needed to close it.

No—he needed to surpass it.

[The Messenger watches with amusement.]

Merlin exhaled sharply.

'Not now..god damn it.'

He pushed back his chair and stood.

Nathan stretched his arms, yawning. "Alright, what's next?"

Merlin didn't answer. His mind was already elsewhere.

He needed to train again.

—

The halls were crowded as students filtered out from their respective classes, the steady hum of conversation filling the academy corridors.

Some lingered in groups, discussing lecture material or upcoming assignments. Others were already making plans for the evening.

'No more classes for today anyways.'

Merlin walked past them without pause.

Nathan, keeping stride beside him, gave a lazy sigh. "So? What now? You're not seriously going to the training hall again, are you?"

Merlin didn't answer.

Nathan groaned. "You are going to the training grounds aren't you?"

Merlin still didn't answer.

Nathan muttered something under his breath before speeding up to step in front of him. "Look, I get it, alright? You got your ass handed to you—badly, might I add—but maybe take a second to breathe before running yourself into the ground?"

Merlin met his gaze, unwavering. "If I have time to breathe, I have time to train."

Nathan looked vaguely offended. "That's a terrible philosophy."

"Then don't follow it."

Nathan scoffed. "Trust me, I won't." He glanced over his shoulder, noting the direction Merlin was heading.

"I was going to go grab food, but I guess I'll stick around long enough to watch you throw yourself at a training dummy for two hours."

Merlin frowned. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Yeah? Well, I don't need to care, and yet, here we are."

Merlin ignored him.

—

The open training grounds were quieter than earlier in the day.

Most students had already left, save for a few lingering figures practicing on their own, and most people used the actual training hall..not the open grounds to train.

The scent of scorched mana and sweat still clung to the air, remnants of prior combat drills.

Merlin made his way to an open space and exhaled.

Pain still simmered beneath his ribs, but he pushed it aside.

He lifted his hand, silver-blue mana flickering to life at his fingertips.

Nathan crossed his arms, watching from the side. "So? What's the plan? Punch the air really hard until you magically get better?"

Merlin ignored him, shifting into stance.

Nathan sighed. "Of course."

Merlin focused. The fight with Vivienne had exposed too many weaknesses—hesitation, lack of speed, failure to reinforce correctly against heavier strikes. He needed to break past those limits.

He moved.

A strike. A pivot. A reinforced step.

Again.

Faster.

Stronger.

Each motion burned into muscle memory, forcing his body to move beyond instinct. Don't think. React.

Nathan's voice drifted in lazily. "Y'know, normal people would start with light exercises instead of immediately attempting to kill themselves."

'Does he ever shut up..? Right..he doesn't.'

Merlin didn't slow.

Nathan watched for another few moments before exhaling. "Fine. Knock yourself out—literally, probably. I'll just sit here and enjoy the show."

Merlin kept going.

Again.

And again.

And again.