Chapter 70 Light Magic 101

Words : 1465 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

After my very eventful dark magic class—one that had involved testing my summoning ability to frankly alarming results—I found myself heading to the bright, almost blindingly cheerful room designated for light magic studies. The contrast was stark, but fitting. Light and dark magic were two sides of a coin, intertwined and yet distinctly their own. Rachel was already there when I arrived. She was seated cross-legged on one of the sleek, floating chairs, hands clasped together in front of her like she was deep in meditation. Or prayer. "What are you doing?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I dropped into the chair next to her. Searᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Her sapphire eyes fluttered open, and she smiled softly. "It's… kind of like praying," she said, tilting her head. "But not really praying at the same time." I stared at her, trying to decipher her cryptic explanation. Praying? Religion had been more or less eradicated in this world, replaced by the unshakable belief in power, progress, and raw human—or in some cases, inhuman—potential. The word "Saintess," for example, no longer referred to some divine emissary but to someone like Rachel: a person born with overwhelming light magic talent that defied logic. A title of awe and reverence earned through raw capability, not celestial blessing. "Well, whatever you're doing, it looks… complicated," I muttered, not sure if I should be impressed or concerned. Rachel's magic always felt so deeply personal, almost spiritual in a way I couldn't quite grasp. Before she could respond, the professor entered, her footsteps barely audible against the smooth polymer floor. Professor Mira was a no-nonsense woman with piercing eyes and an air of precision. Everything about her, from the way she carried herself to the immaculate white coat she wore, screamed "efficiency." "Let's get started," she said briskly, her sharp gaze cutting across the room. Her eyes settled on me, narrowing slightly. "Arthur, you're a new addition to this class. Tell me—how do you imagine light magic fitting into your combat style?" I straightened in my seat, meeting her gaze. "The first use case I imagine is integrating it into my signature spell, God Flash," I said evenly. For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then her eyebrows shot up. "You have a signature spell?" she echoed, a hint of surprise softening her usually stoic tone. "At your age? That's… remarkable." Rachel glanced at me, a flicker of curiosity sparking in her eyes. I could almost hear the question forming in her mind—'God Flash? When did you come up with that?'—but she didn't voice it. "It's still a work in progress," I admitted, scratching the back of my neck. "But it's designed to channel lightning mana and light magic into a single, concentrated strike. The idea is to enhance both speed and power while maintaining precision." Professor Mira nodded slowly, her analytical gaze dissecting my words. "An ambitious concept," she said, "and a challenging one to execute. Light magic is notoriously difficult to control when combined with other elements. It demands finesse, balance, and an acute understanding of mana flow." "That's why I'm here," I said simply. Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Indeed. Let's see what you're capable of." The next hour was a whirlwind of exercises. Rachel and I were tasked with channeling light magic into various forms—shields, beams, even fine threads that could be woven into intricate patterns. Rachel, of course, excelled effortlessly. Her affinity for light magic was so natural it was almost unfair. Watching her work was like watching an artist paint a masterpiece with a flick of their wrist. I, on the other hand, struggled. Light magic required an exactness that didn't come easily to me. It wasn't like dark magic, which thrived on instinct and manipulation. Light was orderly, demanding structure and clarity. Every time I tried to force it into a form, it pushed back, slipping through my grasp like a stubborn ray of sunlight. "You're overthinking it," Rachel said at one point, her voice soft but firm. "Light magic isn't about control. It's about understanding. You don't force it—you guide it." Her words lingered in my mind as I tried again, this time focusing less on dominating the mana and more on aligning myself with its flow. Slowly, the resistance eased, and a faint, golden glow began to form in my palm. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress. By the end of the session, my head was buzzing with information, my mana reserves were low, and my hands were trembling from the sheer effort of keeping the light magic stable. But as I glanced at the faint shimmer still lingering around my fingers, I couldn't help but feel a spark of satisfaction. Professor Mira approached as we were packing up. "Arthur," she said, her tone less sharp than usual, "your progress today was promising. Light magic doesn't come naturally to you, but with time and practice, I believe you can integrate it into your combat style effectively." "Thank you, Professor," I said, nodding. As she walked away, Rachel leaned closer, her smile warm and genuine. "You did well today," she said. "Better than I expected, honestly." "Thanks," I replied, meeting her gaze. "Coming from you, that actually means a lot." Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she quickly looked away, mumbling something about how I shouldn't let it go to my head. I chuckled, the sound faint in the softly lit room, feeling a curious warmth settle in my chest. "Light magic is fundamentally tied to belief, Arthur," Rachel said after a moment, her tone shifting into the measured cadence she used when explaining something important. "Belief?" I tilted my head, curious. "As in faith? But faith in what? The universe? Myself?" "Not necessarily faith in a divine being," she clarified, brushing a strand of her golden hair behind her ear. "Light magic isn't religious, not anymore. It's more about belief in concepts—hope, purpose, justice. Or even something as simple as believing in the outcome you're fighting for. Like how mana reacts to our emotions, light magic is uniquely responsive to the strength of our convictions. That's why I was doing that during lesson time. For me, belief is everything." "That thing you were doing," I said slowly, recalling the image of her clasped hands, her serene expression. "It looked a lot like praying." Rachel chuckled softly, though there was a wistful edge to it. "It's not praying, not really. It's more like grounding myself. Reminding myself what I stand for, what I fight for. The stronger my belief, the stronger my magic." I nodded, letting her words sink in. Belief. It sounded deceptively simple, but I knew better. "That sounds... harder than it seems," I admitted. She looked at me, her sapphire eyes softening. "It is. Light magic is tricky like that. But you've already tapped into it with your Gift, Arthur. Lucent Harmony isn't just about raw power—it's tied to your will, your ability to connect and command." I processed her words, thinking of the times I'd used Lucent Harmony under pressure. She wasn't wrong—it wasn't just a tool; it was an extension of my intent, of my resolve. "But Arthur," Rachel said, her tone shifting into something quieter, more serious, "can I ask you something?" "Of course, Rach," I replied easily, though the weight in her voice caught my attention. "Do you still want to surpass Lucifer? Even now, after seeing how strong he is? After fighting alongside him?" Her gaze bore into mine, a mixture of curiosity and concern lighting her features. I paused for only a moment, my answer already clear. "Yes," I said firmly, my voice steady. "There's no doubt in my mind. I will surpass Lucifer." Rachel's sapphire eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as if she hadn't expected such a direct answer. She studied me, her expression unreadable, before lowering her head, a small, soft smile gracing her lips. "Good answer," she said, her voice quiet but filled with something warm, something almost proud. She turned away then, her golden hair catching the light in a way that made it shimmer like threads of sunlight. For a moment, I simply watched her, the way her posture relaxed as though she'd come to a conclusion about something. I didn't press her further—Rachel wasn't the type to reveal everything she was thinking. And yet, her smile lingered in my mind, a faint and inexplicable reassurance.

Chapter 70 Light Magic 101

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