"Yarrow, it's been three days since we got back. You've done nothing but lie around. Don't you think it's time you got back to studying?"
Serena stood with her arms crossed, glaring down at the boy stretched lazily across the sofa, flicking through something on his phone like he had no care in the world.
"Oh," Yarrow replied, not even looking up.
"Oh, my foot," Serena snapped, hands on her hips. "The entrance assessment is in less than three months! Where's your sense of urgency?"
After returning from the goblin lair, Yarrow had asked for a day off to recover from his injuries. Serena, seeing his bruises and exhaustion, had relented.
But that one day turned into two.
Then three.
And now he wasn't just ignoring his studies—he was lounging like a king.
Yarrow chuckled quietly, the sound dry and laced with disdain.
"Serena," he said, finally lifting his head. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"What did you say?" Serena's frown deepened.
Yarrow sat up slowly, leaned back against the cushions, and tilted his chin toward her. His gaze held the cool detachment of someone who believed they were miles above the conversation.
"You still think I'm the same student who needed your help with beginner spell theory," he said. "But you're wrong. That was before."
"Before what?"
"Before I awakened," Yarrow said, his voice low and confident. "Before I realized what I truly am. You wouldn't understand, of course—you're only a Silver-rank mage. Your perspective is limited by the small cage of your own power. I'll forgive your ignorance just this once. Don't make me repeat myself."
For a moment, Serena just stared at him. Then, with a gentle expression, she bent down and touched his forehead.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize your head injury was this serious. Let's rest a few more days. I'll go get medicine."
Yarrow slapped her hand away, standing up in a sudden motion.
"Do you think I'm joking?" he barked. "I'm telling you, I don't need to study anymore!"
Serena's expression turned firm. "Then what about the entrance exam? You think a few flashy spells are enough? What about theory, magical law, rune control? Your written scores were barely passing!"
He scoffed.
"The exam?" Yarrow crossed his arms, smiling with something between pride and contempt. "That's a ladder for the mediocre. When you have absolute power, you don't need to climb. You fly."
He took a step toward her, his voice dropping into mock playfulness.
"Serena, how about you say meow a few times and look cute for me? If you do, maybe I'll let you hang around after I become a grand mage."
Serena blinked once. "I really should take you to see a doctor."
"Damn it! Why are you all obsessed with the idea that I'm sick?!"
Yarrow grabbed her wrist and marched toward the door.
"Where are we going?" Serena asked.
"I'm going to show you," Yarrow said, eyes gleaming. "I'll prove I'm a Radiant-rank Archmage right now."
They arrived at the training grounds—empty, silent, and familiar. This was where they had practiced for months, where he had fumbled basic spells under Serena's guidance.
Now he would rewrite the narrative.
"Watch closely," Yarrow said, stepping more than ten meters away. He closed his eyes, breathing in the magic in the air.
He had been exploring this sensation over the last two days. His mana no longer trickled like a stream. It surged—no, it roared—like a storm-fed river. If he had once been a puddle, he was now an ocean barely contained by human form.
He opened his eyes and extended his hand, skipping the chant entirely.
Just a Fireball. Simple. Controlled.
At least, that's what he thought.
The moment he tapped into the surrounding magic, it surged into him like a tidal wave crashing into a cup. His hand ignited instantly—roaring flames condensed at hyperspeed, swelling far beyond the intended size.
It wasn't a Fireball.
It was a miniature sun.
His expression shifted. "Wait—crap! I can't control this!"
Serena's eyes widened. "Yarrow! Cut off the magic flow—now!"
He didn't need to be told twice.
Yarrow immediately severed the connection, and the monstrous sphere of fire shot upward into the sky like a dying star escaping its master. It detonated with a thunderous boom above the clouds, casting the whole field in flickering amber light.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Yarrow stood frozen, chest heaving. Serena stared, her mouth slightly open.
"…That wasn't supposed to happen," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Serena exhaled slowly and rubbed her temples. "No kidding."
The thunderous roar echoed across the sky. Fragments of flame rained down like falling stars, flickering briefly before being extinguished mid-air.
"Holy crap… that was insane."
Yarrow collapsed onto the grass, staring up at the gaping hole he had blown into the clouds. The sky above had been scrubbed clean in a radius of hundreds of meters. Only a hazy trail of smoke remained—a ghost of the explosion's force.
He dusted himself off and stood up, still buzzing with the remnants of magic.
"Yarrow…"
Serena approached slowly, her expression unreadable—somewhere between awe, concern, and something else.
He turned to her with a smug grin and waved a hand flamboyantly. "So? Impressed? That was barely a tenth of my power, by the way."
But instead of the amazement he expected, Serena's eyes held something colder, heavier—pity.
"Yarrow…" she said quietly. "Do you have Magic Instability Rampage Syndrome?"
"…Huh?"
The unfamiliar term threw him. He blinked at her, confused. "What the hell is that?"
Serena exhaled, her gaze gentle and serious. "It's a rare magical condition. It mostly appears in novice mages. Though 'condition' might be the wrong word—it's not really an illness. More like… an extreme talent that comes with a dangerous flaw."
She continued, her tone softening further. "People with this syndrome have incredibly sensitive magical perception. But their control? It's almost nonexistent. The magic inside them becomes volatile—wild, unpredictable. They can tap into massive amounts of mana, yes, but at the cost of stability. And… there's no known cure."
Yarrow stared at her, his cocky grin slowly slipping. "…So you're saying my strength is just some kind of freak accident?"
"I'm saying," Serena said gently, "you probably mistook this for a power boost. But it's not strength—it's instability. And it could kill you."
"Come on," Yarrow scoffed, pointing at himself. "You're telling me this isn't the result of unlocking some ancient inheritance or Supreme Sage enlightenment or something?"
Serena raised an eyebrow. "You've been reading way too many light novels."
Yarrow clamped his mouth shut. Admittedly… yeah. Compared to a dramatic magical awakening, being a walking mana hazard was significantly less cool.
But still—he had become stronger. That part was real. He just couldn't control it.
Yet.
He remembered the sensation from earlier—the magic rushing in like a broken dam, spilling out without restraint. It wasn't power he wielded. It was power dragging him behind it, like a runaway horse.
If something like that happened during the academy entrance exam, and someone noticed…
He felt a chill.
"…And," Serena added, her voice dropping lower, "this condition is extremely rare. Which means it's of very high research value."
Yarrow's stomach sank. "You're saying…"
"If someone finds out…" Serena's gaze hardened, "you might be captured. Dissected. Studied."
Yarrow froze. His hands curled into fists.
This was not how he envisioned his great rise to magical power going.
He looked down at his palm, expression clouded. The power was there—real, potent—but now shrouded in uncertainty and fear. It wasn't just a blessing.
It was a loaded gun pointed both ways.
"Yarrow…" Serena stepped closer, her voice softer now. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of Ji Xiaofei and Tao Hu for you."
He stared at her, horrified. "Wait—what? Why do you sound like you're saying goodbye to a terminal patient?! I'm not dying!"
Serena tilted her head with a thoughtful frown. "Aren't you? I mean, you could explode. Or get kidnapped by researchers. Either way—"
"You—!"
Yarrow pointed at her, indignant, but the words got stuck somewhere between frustration and disbelief.
Then Serena paused, her expression lighting up.
"Wait," Serena said, her eyes widening with realization. "Zen. She's from the Dragon race, and they have techniques and knowledge far beyond what we humans understand. Maybe she knows how to help you."
Yarrow blinked, his gaze shifting slightly. "Zen?" he repeated, his voice heavy with disbelief. "You think she might help me with this... condition?"
Serena gave him a sharp nod. "It's worth a shot. Better than you blowing up in the middle of the academy, right?"
Yarrow exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. A sense of urgency was starting to settle in, something more tangible than the raw power he'd been grasping at. This wasn't just about becoming stronger—it was about control, or the distinct lack of it.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath. "Let's go talk to Zen."
Serena gave him a reassuring smile. "You'd better be ready, though. Zen's not exactly… conventional."
Yarrow's lips twitched. "I think I can handle it."
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