Dark Dragon: The Summoned Hero Is A Villain-Chapter 10: The Three Requirements

Noah’s eyes narrowed. He recognized the names from the handbook. They were famous figures, but beyond that, nothing came to mind.

Professor Geldrin’s gaze returned to him. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"Well?" He asked. "How about we hear the answer from our hero."

Noah didn’t blink. What was the man trying to pull? Everybody knew he hadn’t been in this world for more than three days.

So, he answered. "I don’t know."

A few students glanced at one another. One shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Geldrin chuckled softly.

"Of course not." He said. "And that, dear class, is why it’s always better for heroes to be chosen from among the people. Those who study, train, and grow within our culture. Not dragged in from somewhere else and handed a beast like a child with a sword."

Laughter broke out, but it was quiet, unsure.

Noah didn’t respond.

He simply dipped his quill into the ink and began to write the names down, underlining them once.

Professor Geldrin turned from the class and faced the slate board behind him.

With a flick of his hand, a thin piece of chalk lifted into the air and began to write in clean, precise strokes.

"What do The Stormborn, Irina Valey, and Archmage Sanders have in common?"

The question hovered there, unchanging.

Geldrin placed his hands behind his back and began to pace slowly across the front of the platform.

"All three," he said, "were mages whose abyssal beasts granted them extraordinary mana capacity and magic control, despite their modest potential rankings."

He glanced over the class, letting the silence build.

"None of them had high innate skill potential. But their spells..." he smiled faintly, "bent the world."

He stopped in place.

"This is the power of spells." He said. "They allow mages to walk paths closed to them by their skills."

"Skills are rigid. Fixed. Defined by your beast and locked behind risk. Apart from your initial skill gained at awakening, you must nearly die to gain another one. You must push yourself to the edge."

He raised a finger.

"But spells... spells are your true bread and butter as mages. They are flexible. Learnable. Scalable."

He turned back to the board. The chalk wiped away the question, then began again.

"What is a spell?"

Noah leaned forward slightly, quill moving.

Geldrin pointed at the new words as they formed.

"A spell is any effect created using three things: mana, runes, and intent."

He tapped the first word.

"Mana. The fuel of spellcasting. Without it, your spell does not form. Your skills," he said, glancing around, "draw from your blood, from your connection to your beast. But spells require your mana, pulled from your own internal core."

He folded his arms.

"This is also what separates spells from rituals. Rituals pull from the environment. The wind. The sun. The leylines beneath your feet. But spells are personal. Internal. They cost you."

Noah nodded slightly to himself, taking notes in a clean, steady hand.

Mana capacity. That was one of his advantages.

Geldrin tapped the second word. "Runes."

"Mana without shape is just light. Chaos. Fire with no flame. Runes are the language of mana. The script that tells it where to go and what to do."

He gestured sharply.

"Each spell is a formation. A structure of interlocking runes, each one with its own mana cost. And the stronger the spell, the more delicate the design. This is where your magic control comes into play."

He raised his voice slightly.

"If you lack the ability to guide your mana precisely, the formation collapses. The spell fails. Or worse, explodes in your face."

A few students tensed.

Geldrin smiled tightly.

"Those with high magic control can weave complex rune patterns in an instant. They draw their spells in the air with clarity. The rest of you," he said, "will stumble."

Noah paused in his writing.

Mana capacity. Magic control.

Both were S rank.

He lowered his head and kept writing.

Geldrin moved to the final word. "Intent."

He let the word hang.

"Unlike skills, spells do not activate by instinct. They cannot be used by accident. They require will. A mage must understand the function of a spell, and they must intend to cast it."

He clasped his hands together.

"If you don’t know what the spell does, it won’t respond. You must have a mental image, a goal. Wanting to burn something isn’t enough. You must want to ignite with a specific spell. No hesitation. No doubt."

Noah’s quill scratched steadily across the parchment.

Mana. Runes. Intent.

This was real information.

Useful information.

He underlined the word "intent" twice.

Spells didn’t rely on guesswork. They obeyed knowledge, control, and focus.

Three things he could master.

Geldrin folded his arms again and scanned the class.

"But," he said, voice sharper now, "a word of warning. Even though spellcasting is a mage’s best friend, it is not limitless."

He turned and began to pace slowly across the front of the platform once more, hands behind his back.

"Magic is powerful, yes. But like everything in this world, it is governed by rules. And if you do not respect those rules, it will destroy you."

"This brings us to the limitations that affect spellcasting."

He stopped in place and raised a single finger.

"First limitation," he said. "Affinity."

The chalk resumed its work behind him, writing the word in clear strokes.

"No matter how skilled you are, no matter how clever, you can only cast spells within the affinities granted to you by your beast."

"What do I mean by that?" He smiled.

"If your beast gave you Fire and Wind affinities, that’s it. You will never cast an Earth spell. You will never shape Light. Only Fire and Wind."

He turned to face the class.

"Your affinities are your boundaries. You may grow within them, but you will never step outside them."

A few students nodded slowly. One raised their hand, then lowered it again without speaking.

Noah wrote the word Affinity and underlined it once.

Geldrin lifted a second finger.

"This brings us to the second limitation, which is Attributes."