Dark Fantasy Normalized

*Ordinary.*

That was how Meltas assessed Risir's magical potential.

While Risir’s achievement of the 3rd level was certainly noteworthy for someone of illegitimate status, it was not extraordinary. Many commoners his age who had reached similar levels could barely approach the threshold of the magic towers.

Without the Normalization Power, Meltas would never have taken an interest in Risir.

**“You say this happens sometimes. What do you mean by that?”**

He had only looked away briefly. Somehow, Risir had already reached the 4th level.

A feat that typically took months, even for the most gifted, had occurred in mere minutes.

**“Did you secretly drink some elixir on the way here?”**

Meltas wasn’t just surprised—he couldn’t even process the situation.

**“Well, you know, my... ability.”**

Risir hinted at his Normalization Power, causing Meltas's expression to shift.

**“That ability? And what does that have to do with this?”**

**“It seems to trigger this phenomenon occasionally.”**

**“Can that even happen? For a power like that to cause something like this?”**

**“Didn’t you mention how unusual it is, Lord Meltas? If it operates under different rules entirely, it may not be so far-fetched.”**

**“Hmm... I doubt it's that simple...”**

Meltas struggled to reconcile this development. But one thing was clear: his perception of Risir had changed drastically.

What he once saw as an *ordinary mage with a rare ability* had transformed into *what on earth is this?*

**“This, that, and the other—could you talk in terms I can actually understand?”**

Meltas snapped out of his reverie at Marina’s voice, realizing he’d been lost in thought. He glanced at her with an expression as if remembering something.

**“Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”**

This was a familiar pattern—Marina often barged into his study to boast about her own disciple, only to dismissively say, *You wouldn’t get it,* whenever Meltas tried to engage.

**“Ah, I see.”**

Marina nodded, folding her arms and casting a critical eye over Risir.

**“What school are you from?”**

**“You don’t have to answer, Risir.”**

**“I wasn’t asking you, Meltas.”**

**“And I wasn’t speaking to you, Marina.”**

Risir, caught in the middle, could only glance awkwardly between them, realizing he was a bystander in a personal battle.

**“Well, the face is agreeable, I’ll give him that. Looks noble, but has a relaxed air about him—other men could learn from that. Why they always walk around with stiff necks and clenched jaws, thinking it adds charm or masculinity...”**

**“Judging someone’s looks to their face—how courteous of you, Marina. Quite the example for the young mages of the tower.”**

**“Oh, come on, Meltas. Just because you don’t get it doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t appreciate a bit of eye candy.”**

She threw Risir a teasing smile, subtly leaning forward to highlight the curve of her exposed neckline.

**“Risir, just a word of caution—not to be deceived by appearances. Marina’s actual age is—”**

Marina’s handkerchief suddenly appeared in her hand, tossed at Meltas in a silent declaration of challenge. Without a word, he turned away, and she tucked the handkerchief back with a smirk.

**“So, what’s the big deal, then? Asking about one’s school is standard—he’ll hear it constantly once he’s in the tower anyway.”**

In truth, it was customary for mages to inquire about each other’s background, much like nobles asking about family lineage.

Marina was assessing Risir, sizing him up as a mage... and as a potential competitor for her own disciple.

**Meltas and Marina.**

The two were rivals, bound by years of competition. They had joined the tower in the same year, both reaching the 6th level at the same time, and were recognized as elite mages together.

Their rivalry had recently taken on a new phase.

*“So, now we’re taking on disciples? About time, don’t you think?”*

Marina had returned from her research trip with a disciple in tow.

Rumors spread rapidly.

*“Have you heard about Lady Marina’s disciple?”*

*“Heinia Mastien, right?”*

*“You could tell just by looking at her—a highborn noble, with talent to match!”*

The rumors highlighted Heinia’s remarkable progress, attributed to Marina’s guidance. Heinia, a prodigy who had reached the 4th level within a year, began to eclipse Meltas’s reputation. Meltas had long intended to take on a disciple himself, but now it was essential he find one that could rival Heinia.

That very morning, Meltas had all but given up hope of finding such a talent.

Until he encountered Risir and his peculiar power.

---

Marina continued to probe Risir about his background and skills, but each time, Meltas advised him not to answer, which he dutifully followed.

Marina didn’t seem bothered, confident that her disciple was superior. It was the assurance of one who had the upper hand.

Yet one thing nagged at her.

**“Marina, would you mind stepping aside? I have company, as you can see.”**

Meltas’s behavior was different from his usual evasiveness when it came to discussing disciples.

**‘What’s this about?’**

Marina cast another scrutinizing look at Risir. He was undeniably talented for his age, though still far from Heinia’s level.

That was when she heard a familiar voice.

**“Master.”**

Risir turned toward the speaker, struck by the vividness of her appearance—her golden hair pulled back, eyes like green peridots, and skin as fair as alabaster. She almost seemed to glow.

**“Ah, Heinia. Did you get it?”**

**“Yes.”**

The girl called Heinia held out a silver ring to Marina.

**“Why aren’t you wearing it? Don’t you like it?”**

**“It’s an artifact for mana recovery. I planned to wear it during rest periods.”**

Heinia’s tone was clear and concise.

**“But why not try it on now?”**

**“I tried it on at the shop. I took it off because it doesn’t suit my style. Master, as I’ve said, I don’t need material support. If there’s something I require, I’ll let you know. I can obtain it myself.”**

**“So cold. You don’t understand your master’s desire to give her disciple more?”**

After exchanging a warm smile with Marina, Heinia turned to greet Meltas.

**“Hello, Lord Meltas. Nice to see you here.”**

**“Indeed, a pleasure, Lady Heinia.”**

Finally, Heinia looked at Risir. Marina took the lead in introductions.

**“I’ll introduce you. Meltas, you won’t mind, will you? Heinia, this is Risir. He’ll be Meltas’s new disciple.”**

**“?”**

*I’m Meltas’s disciple?* Risir looked at Meltas in confusion.

**“Ahem. Marina, you’re making him uncomfortable.”**

**“Why should he be uncomfortable? Anyway, the two of you might as well introduce yourselves—you’ll be seeing each other often.”**

Before Marina finished speaking, Heinia extended her hand to Risir. Her movements were precise, her handshake firm.

**“I’m Heinia. Remember me as Lady Marina’s disciple.”**

**“I’m Risir. You can simply remember me as... Risir.”**

Risir grasped Heinia’s hand, planning to release it, but she tightened her grip.

**“Lady Heinia?”**

**“So, you’re a 4th level?”**

**“Yes. It appears you’re the same, Lady Heinia. Quite impressive for someone your age.”**

His compliment was genuine, acknowledging the achievement of reaching the 4th level so young.

Yet Heinia’s expression tightened—Risir’s praise felt uncomfortably equalizing.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was challenging her.

**‘Is that it? You want to compete?’**

As Marina’s disciple and Meltas’s supposed protégé, competition seemed natural.

Smiling, Heinia tightened her grip further.

**“So, should I return the compliment? You’re impressive too, reaching the 4th level at our age?”**

**“No need.”**

**“You’re right. Not all 4th levels are equal. You’ve just entered, after all. I’m well past that stage.”**

**“Oh, is that so?”**

Confused by Heinia’s sudden intensity, Risir responded awkwardly.

Heinia launched into an impromptu lecture on her magical influences, the wizards who inspired her, and the foundational texts that shaped her skill. Then she questioned Risir on his background, making it a silent duel of magical expertise.

Heinia’s triumphant smirk grew as Risir fell silent, having no response.

Time for the finishing blow.

**“Didn’t I say? Not all 4th levels are alike. Do you know why?”**

With a flourish, Heinia extended a single finger.

**“One year. That’s how long it took me to reach this level.”**

Her pride was pure and confident, her gaze unwavering as it settled on Risir.

**“How about you?”**

**“A month,

perhaps?”**

Risir answered truthfully.

**“Then shall I say it took me a week? Let’s be serious here.”**

Naturally, Heinia didn’t believe him.

**“Well... around a year, I suppose.”**

He reluctantly exaggerated his answer.

Heinia scrutinized him, then chuckled.

**“I see. Not bad.”**

**“Your words don’t match your expression.”**

**“Oh, did it come across that way? My apologies.”**

Suddenly, Heinia clapped her hands as if inspired.

**“Risir, I just had an idea. Hear me out?”**

**“Go on.”**

**“I’ve never met another mage so close to my level. That applies to you ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) too, doesn’t it?”**

**“Didn’t you just say not all 4th levels are the same?”**

**“Oh, come on! We’re both first-years. How about a duel, then?”**

**“A duel? Just like that?”**

**“Yes. You know how rare it is for people like us to find a sparring partner at our level. It would be a great way to broaden our skills.”**

Risir found himself nodding. The offer was unexpectedly appealing—a chance to test his growth and evaluate his abilities.

**“And, let’s make it interesting. The loser has to grant the winner a favor. Sound fun?”**

**“Agreed.”**

After agreeing on the duel’s time and location—the courtyard of the Gray Tower the next afternoon—Risir parted ways with Heinia and continued on to the Gray Tower with Meltas, who led him to a private study.

Once there, Risir immediately pulled something from his belongings and showed it to Meltas.

**“What’s that?”**

**“An elixir.”**

**“What?”**

Meltas could hardly believe his ears. Why did Risir have an elixir?

**“Pardon me, Lord Meltas, but is there any place in Bondales better suited than your study for consuming an elixir?”**

**“Quite abrupt, but... no, there aren’t many places better suited.”**

**“Precisely. So, Lord Meltas, would you mind assisting me with the elixir’s consumption?”**

The visit to the tower had an additional purpose—to consume an elixir. According to a note from his mentor, the tower was the ideal place for such an act.

**“Did you happen to drink an elixir between here and the shop?”**

**“What are you suggesting?”**

**“Forget it. Why now, of all times?”**

**“I want to maximize my chances of winning the duel.”**

**“You talk about it like it’s a casual snack.”**

Meltas was beginning to find Risir a little unnerving.