A few names later, another one appeared on the screen.
THEO ARDYN
Kael looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of a bench, holding a bottle of water he'd found from who-knows-where.
"Guess it's your turn."
Theo gave a short nod.
He didn't say anything. Just adjusted his glasses and walked toward the mage platform with the same calm, measured pace he did everything—precise, unhurried, deliberate.
The mage evaluation platforms were different from the knight ones.
Instead of combat dummies, they had Resonance Totems—carved obsidian pillars nearly ten feet tall, covered in intricate sigils that glowed faintly blue. They were designed to measure mana output, channeling stability, spell formation quality, and control under pressure.
Each totem had five rings of light etched into its surface. The more rings you lit, the better your score.
Most students managed two rings.
Three was considered good.
Four was exceptional.
Five was... rare.
Theo stepped onto the platform, his blue uniform crisp and perfect despite the long morning. His posture was relaxed but controlled—shoulders loose, hands at his sides, breathing steady.
The instructor—a severe-looking woman with silver hair pulled into a tight bun—studied him for a moment.
"State your name and intended specialization."
"Theo Ardyn. Soul Magic."
Soul Magic wasn't unheard of, but it was rare.
Difficult.
Dangerous if mishandled.
The instructor's expression didn't change.
"Proceed."
Theo raised one hand—slowly, deliberately—and closed his eyes.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the air around him shifted.
It wasn't a dramatic surge of power. No explosive light or roaring wind.
Just a subtle change in pressure, like the moment before a storm breaks.
The mana in the air began to move, drawn toward him in invisible currents that bent and twisted around his body.
The totem's sigils flickered, responding to the gathering energy.
Theo's hand moved—precise, controlled—and a spell construct began to form.
It appeared in the air before him: a geometric lattice of glowing lines, interlocking circles and triangles that rotated slowly, each piece clicking into place with perfect symmetry.
The construct pulsed once.
And the first ring on the totem lit.
Then the second.
The third.
Theo's expression didn't change. His breathing remained steady, his focus absolute.
The spell construct grew more complex—layers upon layers of interlocking geometry, spinning faster now, glowing brighter.
The fourth ring blazed to life.
The instructor's eyes narrowed.
And then—without warning—the totem began to resist.
This was the pressure test.
The totem's sigils flared red, sending disruptive pulses of mana toward Theo, trying to destabilize his spell. Most students faltered here, their constructs collapsing under the interference.
But Theo didn't flinch.
His hand moved again—a single, fluid gesture—and the spell construct adapted.
The geometry shifted, rearranged itself, compensated for the interference without losing cohesion.
The fifth ring flickered.
Held.
And lit.
Brilliant white light flooded the platform, so bright several students shielded their eyes.
The totem held the glow for five full seconds—far longer than anyone else—before slowly dimming.
Silence.
The instructor stared at her clipboard, then at Theo, then back at the clipboard.
Finally, she spoke, her voice carefully neutral.
"Perfect resonance. Flawless construct stability. Full marks."
She paused, her gaze sharp.
"Soul Magic specialization confirmed. Pass with Distinction."
Theo bowed politely, his expression unchanged. "Thank you."
Kael watched him approach, sipping his water thoughtfully.
"That was pretty cool."
Theo sat down beside him, adjusting his glasses. "It was adequate."
"You lit all five rings."
"I wasn't the only one."
◆ ◆ ◆
The day went by in a blur.
The first test ended faster than anyone expected, and with far fewer survivors than most had hoped.
Over half the candidates had been eliminated—some stunned into silence, some angry and protesting, some barely standing after pushing themselves too hard.
By the end of it, the atmosphere had shifted. The nervous excitement from the morning had been replaced by exhaustion and grim determination.
As the last student stepped off the testing platform, the sky shimmered once more.
Vice Headmaster Revek's projection appeared overhead, as cold and commanding as ever.
"The first test is complete."
His voice cut through the noise like a blade.
"If your name is not on the registry, do not return tomorrow. You have failed."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd—some relieved, others devastated.
"Those who remain, understand this: what you accomplished today is not special. It is the bare minimum. If you believe this is worth celebrating, lower your expectations. Immediately."
His gaze seemed to sweep over every remaining student, cold and unforgiving.
"Tomorrow will be worse."
The projection vanished.
And just like that, they were dismissed.
Kael stretched as he stood up from the observation bench, his body aching faintly from tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Alright, lead the way."
Theo raised an eyebrow. "To?"
"The cafeteria, obviously. I'm starving."
Theo sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Follow me."
They moved with the crowd—thousands of students peeling off into groups, wandering the academy grounds with sore muscles and new anxieties weighing on their shoulders.
The campus was vast, but Theo seemed to know exactly where to go, navigating the winding paths and archways with quiet confidence.
The cafeteria was built into a massive curved hall on the west side of campus.
Sleek archways of polished stone framed the entrance, and the walls were lined with runic plating that glowed faintly, casting everything in warm, golden light. Floating rune-lamps drifted lazily near the ceiling, bobbing gently like luminescent jellyfish.
It was like a cathedral built by engineers and enchanted by mages—spacious, glowing, and absolutely teeming with energy.
Inside, the place was already packed.
The noise was deafening—laughter, groans, excited chatter, the hum of magic as floating trays zipped between tables, delivering food with mechanical precision.
Unlike Earth's cafeteria lines, this place used an advanced enchantment system. Each table had a glowing ordering panel embedded into its surface, synced directly to the kitchens below.
Kael and Theo found a small round table tucked into a corner near one of the tall windows overlooking the courtyard.
It was quieter here—relatively speaking—and offered a decent view of the darkening sky.
They sat down.
Kael immediately activated the panel, his fingers flying across the glowing interface as he tapped on anything that looked remotely edible.
Grilled meat. Roasted vegetables. Some kind of glowing fruit. Bread. Soup. More meat.
Theo glanced at the rapidly growing list. "...Slow down."
Kael didn't stop tapping. "Why?"
"That's enough food for three people."
"Yeah, and?"
Theo paused, tilting his head slightly. "You're ordering all of that for yourself?"
"Obviously."
"...I see."
A few minutes later, the food arrived—delivered by floating trays that descended from above and settled gently onto the table.
Kael immediately dove in, devouring the first plate with the single-minded focus of someone who hadn't eaten a proper meal in days.
Theo, meanwhile, picked at a precisely portioned plate of vegetables and grilled fish, eating slowly and methodically.
They sat in silence for a while, the noise of the cafeteria washing over them like background static.
Then—
A sharp voice cut through the din.
"Hey! Move it, trash!"
Kael glanced up.
A group of students—mages in particular—had crowded around a table nearby. One of them, a broad-shouldered guy with a sneer carved into his face, was shoving a frail looking boy in black out of his seat.
"This table's ours now. Get lost."
The knight in training—a nervous-looking kid with messy brown hair—stammered something unintelligible and scrambled away, abandoning his half-finished meal.
The students laughed, settling into the stolen seats like conquering heroes.
Kael watched for a moment, chewing thoughtfully.
'Seems like bullying is a multiverse disease.'
He personally never got bullied in school before—mostly because his parents owned every school he ever went to—but he still saw anyone who practiced such acts as a simian.
He didn't think too much about it since it didn't concern him.
Or so he thought...
[Daily Subtask: Ask a question or make a statement during a public gathering.]
[Penalty: Loss of Voice for 6 hours.]
[Daily Task Timer: 7hrs remaining.]
"..."
'Why does this feel like a set up?'
He sighed, set down his fork, and stood up.
Theo looked up. "Where are you going?"
"Gonna say something stupid."
"...That's vague."
Kael didn't elaborate.
He walked over to the table where the group of mages were still laughing, their voices loud and obnoxious.
They didn't notice him at first.
Then one of them—a girl with sharp eyes and a cruel smile—glanced up and noticed him walking their way.
"Where do you think you are heading to?"
Kael scratched the back of his neck, his expression perfectly neutral.
Just because he was a 'lazy' or unresponsive person didn't mean he was a coward.
In fact, fear was one of the many emotions he had hardly experienced in his past life.
He just didn't like getting into situations that required to much talking or action.
"Just wondering," he said, his voice loud enough to carry over the noise, "do you guys practice being assholes, or does it just come naturally?"
The laughter stopped.
Immediately.
The broad-shouldered guy stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"What did you just say?"
Kael blinked at him, unbothered. "I asked if being an asshole requires practice, or if it's, like, a talent thing."
Silence rippled outward from their table.
Conversations died.
Heads turned.
The entire section of the cafeteria was suddenly very interested in what was happening.
The student's face flushed red. "You've got a death wish?"
Kael shrugged. "Not really. Just genuinely curious."
He actually was...
The guy took a step forward, fists clenched.
And then—
A hand clamped down on his shoulder.
He froze.
An instructor stood behind him—tall, scarred, with the kind of presence that made even the loudest room go quiet.
"Is there a problem here?" the instructor asked, his voice deceptively calm.
The student swallowed. "No, sir."
"Good." The instructor's gaze swept over the group. "Then I suggest you find another table. Now."
They left.
Quickly.
The instructor glanced at Kael, his expression unreadable.
"Next time, keep your observations to yourself, boy."
Kael nodded. "Sure."
The instructor walked away.
The cafeteria slowly returned to normal, conversations resuming in cautious bursts.
Kael walked back to his table and sat down.
[Daily Subtask Complete.]
Theo stared at him.
"...What was that?"
Kael picked up his fork. "Just curios."
Theo adjusted his glasses, studying him with quiet intensity.
"You're going to get yourself killed."
Kael shrugged, biting into a piece of bread.
"Probably."