Chapter 1 — The Weakest Power
The world was vast, ancient, and steeped in magic.
It hung suspended between towering skies and cavernous abysses, where floating islands shimmered with arcane energy and colossal beasts patrolled the skies like birds of prey. There were cities carved into trees taller than mountains, temples that breathed with divine magic, and dungeons—gaping maws in the land, pulsing with power, riches, and death.
In this world, strength was everything.
Magic was the breath of civilization, the lifeblood of kingdoms, and the pride of every living race. From the fire-wielding Ifrit tribes of the west to the icy Sorin elves in the north, from humans to demi-beasts and draconic lords, all held magic close to the heart.
And in the middle of this grand, ruthless world…
A boy blinked three meters, tripped on a rock, and fell flat on his face.
"Ow… dammit," Kael muttered into the dirt.
He pushed himself up, brushing soil off his chin as the wind rustled the long grass around him. The old stone ruins he'd been using as a makeshift training ground loomed behind him, casting shadows in the fading golden light.
Kael Valen. Sixteen years old. Brown hair that refused to stay combed. Gray eyes sharp with curiosity and stubbornness. And the proud—no, cursed—owner of the weakest magical ability ever recorded.
Blink.
A three-meter teleport. No damage. No offense. No glamour.
And worst of all… a ten-second cooldown.
He reached into his worn leather satchel and pulled out a notebook, flipping through pages of handwritten calculations, movement diagrams, and hastily drawn battlefield scenarios.
"Use Blink as a feint. Predict enemy strike → Blink sideways → Counterattack during cooldown."
"Low visibility + terrain advantage = survivability."
"Still can't Blink mid-air. Figure out workarounds."
Kael exhaled and stared out at the horizon. Far off, he could just make out the distant shape of Vel'kara Academy, the most prestigious magic institution in the kingdom of Aetheron. A place where nobles, prodigies, and the gifted learned to hone their powers. To become adventurers, archmages, generals, and legends.
And somehow, despite all odds, Kael had been accepted.
He clenched his fists.
"They laughed when they saw my ability. They called it a curse. A joke. But if no one's ever made Blink powerful… maybe I'll be the first."
Three Weeks Earlier – The Aptitude Ceremony
In the grand plaza of Veyrun City, children stood in lines beneath a crystalline spire that pulsed with light.
One by one, they stepped forward, placing their hands on the glowing crystal to reveal their magical aptitude.
"Rank A. Flame Affinity. High Mana Pool!"
The crowd cheered.
"Rank B+. Wind Affinity. Solid reflexes!"
Applause again.
"Rank C. Earth Affinity. Decent stamina!"
Polite nods.
And then…
"Rank F. Spell: Blink. Three meters. Ten-second cooldown."
Silence.
Kael had stood frozen as snickers rose from the audience. His father's face had turned stone cold. The instructors looked away, barely concealing their pity. Even the crystal pulsed dimly, as if embarrassed.
That night, Kael didn't sleep. He didn't cry, either. He just… thought.
And then he wrote his first page:
"They don't know how to use it. But I will."
Back to the Present
Kael arrived at the black iron gates of Vel'kara Academy with nothing but a duffel bag, his notebook, and a fire in his chest.
The guards sneered when they saw his crest—no noble house, no titles. Just a commoner. But they let him through. He'd earned his spot.
The entrance ceremony was held in the central spire—The Tower of Stars—a floating structure held aloft by perpetual runes. Students stood on marble platforms suspended in mid-air as magical holograms danced above them.
Kael stood quietly at the edge, scanning the crowd.
And then they arrived.
First, Lyra Asthel—tall, composed, clad in black and violet robes laced with lightning runes. Her eyes were the color of stormclouds, and her magic sparked in the air around her like a warning.
Then, Princess Selene Ardentis—the golden heir of the Ardentis bloodline. Draped in red silk with phoenix embroidery, she carried herself like a goddess, her expression bored but haughty. Her flames burned without smoke. Her gaze didn't even register Kael.
"Students," a deep voice rang across the tower.
A figure descended—robes of midnight blue, a long beard, and a staff carved from stardust wood.
"I am Headmaster Orin Drosel. Welcome to Vel'kara. Here, we will burn weakness out of you, or you will be broken in the flames."
His eyes scanned the crowd—and lingered, just for a second, on Kael.
The First Test
"Your first lesson: Adapt or die."
The students were separated into teams and dropped into a training arena—massive illusion fields that mimicked real-world battle zones. Their task: reach the center tower and retrieve the flag.
Kael was paired with two other "low rankers" and promptly abandoned when the round started.
"Whatever, dead weight," one sneered before running off.
Kael shrugged. He tapped his chest.
"Show me the way."
He blinked three meters—right behind a charging brute with earth armor. The enemy turned.
Too slow.
Kael ducked low and rolled, tripping him into a pitfall trap someone else had triggered.
Blink. Move. Hide. Observe.
He danced across the battlefield like a ghost, using terrain and chaos to his advantage.
Ten seconds. Blink again.
Three meters closer.
Then again.
By the time the others reached the center tower, Kael was already there—leaning on the flagpole, bored.
When the arena collapsed and the students returned to reality, a ripple went through the crowd.
"Wait… he got it?"
"How the hell… with Blink?"
Lyra frowned. Selene looked irritated. The headmaster gave the faintest of smiles.
That Night
Kael sat on the roof of the dorm tower, staring at the stars.
He held his notebook in one hand, a candle beside him flickering in the wind.
His muscles ached. His mind buzzed.
But his heart burned with something pure.
"It's not about the strength you're given. It's about how far you'll go to make it yours."
He blinked once more—just three meters. Onto the edge of the spire.
And stood tall.
The First Test
"Your first lesson: Adapt or die."
That was all Headmaster Drosel said before the floor of the Tower of Stars vanished beneath their feet.
Kael didn't have time to scream. The wind howled as he fell—then slammed into something soft. Grass? Dirt?
No.
Sand.
He rolled onto his side and blinked the dust from his eyes.
Around him stretched a massive arena, shaped like a colossal bowl carved into a desert canyon. The sun was scorching, magic stones floated above the sand, glowing with faint energy, and dozens of other students were scattered across the terrain, confused and dazed.
Above, projected in the sky, Orin's voice boomed once more.
"Retrieve one of the nine mana crystals. Last team standing passes. Everyone else… fails."
Kael sat up fast. "Wait, team?"
A shadow fell over him. "You. Get up."
He looked up.
It was Lyra Asthel.
Sharp eyes. Sharper voice.
"I saw your file," she said. "You're the Blink one, right?"
Kael blinked. "Uh. Yeah."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Stay out of the way. You'll slow me down."
"Good to meet you too," Kael muttered as he climbed to his feet.
Then another voice spoke—clear, cold, and imperious.
"You two will need more than sarcasm and scowls to survive."
Princess Selene Ardentis walked toward them, her hands tucked behind her back, an ember floating above each shoulder. Her gaze flicked between Kael and Lyra with unhidden disdain.
"This is a test of survival and strategy. I suggest we cooperate until the crystals are ours."
Lyra looked like she wanted to argue. Kael didn't.
"Agreed," he said quickly.
Selene turned to him, eyebrow raised. "You can speak. I was beginning to wonder."
Kael grinned. "You'll find I'm full of surprises."
She stared for a moment—then smirked, ever so slightly.
First Blood
They didn't have time for more words.
Screams erupted from the north side of the arena. A squad of students had already begun attacking each other. Spells lit the air like fireworks. Fireballs, wind blades, stone spears.
Kael ducked as a lightning bolt snapped across the sand, scorching it black.
"Scatter!" Lyra shouted.
Kael blinked—just three meters, but far enough to dodge a water cannon that blasted the spot he'd just stood in. He rolled, landed hard, and dashed behind a rock outcrop.
Ten seconds. He counted in his head.
One. Two. Three…
He peeked out. Two students—synchronized attacks. Strong.
But they were facing the wrong way.
Kael grinned.
Eight. Nine… now.
He Blinked again—right behind the caster—and kicked the back of his knee.
The student fell with a shout. Kael snatched the wand from his belt and tossed it aside just as Lyra slammed a thunder rune into the second attacker's chest.
Selene arrived like a storm, flames bursting from her fingertips, a whirlwind of fire surrounding her like a halo.
They retreated quickly after that.
Five students down.
Kael panted, grinning. "We work well together."
Selene looked surprised.
Lyra looked annoyed.
Neither of them said no.
End of the Test
They didn't win. But they survived. And they brought back a mana crystal.
Kael stood on the platform once more, bloodied, bruised, and smiling.
Headmaster Drosel looked over the crowd. "You. Blink boy."
Kael froze.
Drosel pointed. "Interesting technique. Most with your power fail instantly."
"Thanks?" Kael said.
"It wasn't praise," the Headmaster replied, eyes glinting. "It was curiosity."
Then he turned and walked away.
Later That Night
Kael sat in his dorm room, sore and exhausted.
He opened his notebook and wrote:
Day 1: Survived. Blink works as dodge, bait, ambush, and misdirection. Not enough. Need more. Find synergy with terrain. Train reaction speed. Strategy wins, not power.
He paused… then smiled faintly.
Also: Apparently, I now have a noble and a princess watching me.
He shut the book and leaned back.
Outside, the moon floated high in the violet sky, glowing like a watchful eye.
And Kael Valen dreamed of the day he would rise—not as the weakest…
But as the strongest magician in the world.