Chapter 25
‘Jessica Hyerd.’
A mage known by the title ‘The Exalted One’ in this world.
By age 20, she had reached the 5th Circle, astounding those around her. Now in her thirties, she was hailed as an Archmage rumored to have attained the 7th Circle.
She was also a quintessential battle mage.
Having proven her merits in countless battles, she rose to global prominence during the war with the Roland Kingdom.
Despite her striking beauty, she favored ruthlessly domineering magic. The enemies who perished by her hand numbered in the thousands.
Yet these accomplishments earned her the title of royal mage at a young age. She now served as Dean of the Magic Department at the Royal Academy.
In pure skill alone, she ranked among the kingdom’s top five.
― Welcome to your enrollment at the Royal Academy. I trust you’ve fully enjoyed your preparatory period? For every joy, there must be suffering. We will now conduct mana measurements. As you know, this assessment gauges your strength. Whatever number appears will testify to your power.
Dean Jessica’s words oddly stoked their competitive spirits.
‘A typical trait of battle mages.’
Had this hall been filled solely with aspiring battle mages, they’d have lunged at the measurement device with fiery eyes.
― Yet when approaching the mana gauge, empty your mind as if meditating. Only then will your true capabilities surface.
Hearing this, I felt a pang of guilt toward Dean Jessica. After all, I intended to hide my true strength.
― Let those confident in their abilities step forward first.
An intriguing method.
Who would dare volunteer first? All students glanced around nervously.
Ian crossed his arms and observed calmly.
‘There must be hidden talents among the magic department students. No need to rush—better to assess the situation first.’
The peers he’d met during training mostly displayed average skills.
But Ian concluded that truly exceptional individuals wouldn’t waste effort flaunting power during practice.
‘They’d reveal it on an official stage like this.’
In that case, it was wise to memorize such names.
The day might come when we’d exchange lethal spells.
“First-year magic student Saruang Jade! Requesting assessment!”
“Ah, a courageous student.”
The first volunteer had emerged.
The initial step was hardest—once taken, others would follow eagerly. The student named Saruang Jade before the device didn’t appear particularly formidable.
‘Will the numbers appear there?’
Ian focused on the screen above the platform. This was no ordinary fabric—it synced with the mana gauge, projecting results publicly. The academy had intended transparency from the start.
“Close your eyes and place your hand here.”
“Yes!”
The first volunteer shut his eyes with resolve. Blue light shimmered as the device’s orb vibrated. Mystical energy flooded its core.
Having experienced this before, Ian remained impassive while astonished gasps erupted around him. The measurement concluded:
The hall buzzed instantly.
“Is that high?” Milelo asked, voicing Ian’s own unspoken question.
“No idea. We’ll need more data.”
“Hmm.”
Milelo seemed tense. Confidence in magic and facing concrete scores were different matters.
Dean Jessica’s voice cut through the chatter:
― You must wonder how significant this score is. Last year’s freshman average was 755. That should clarify where 481 stands.
The first volunteer had failed spectacularly. Though no one voiced it, derisive smirks permeated the air.
― Who’s next?
At Dean Jessica’s挑衅 tone, someone stepped forward. Ian started—it was Milelo himself.
‘Of course. Troublemakers stay true.’
Most students would’ve shrunk under the Dean’s gaze. That Milelo overcame this pressure spoke volumes about his confidence.
If anyone could, it was him.
Born into a swordsmanship lineage, he’d trained relentlessly in combat arts unrelated to magic. He knew how to prove his worth under pressure.
“Name.”
“Milelo Vinetia. Requesting mana measurement.”
“Good. Place your hand here.”
As instructed, Milelo touched the orb.
The measurement began.
Crackle!
“Whoa!”
“This feels different from the last one!”
“The glow itself changed!”
The crowd immediately recognized the shift. The device shone brighter, its orb filling with dense mana.
Everyone held their breath until the result flashed:
“The Vinetia family’s black sheep scored that?”
“Incredible!”
982—surpassing last year’s average. It meant he outclassed most freshmen.
Of course, mana alone couldn’t measure comprehensive combat ability.
‘Milelo’s stronger in reality. He’s trained in swordsmanship and martial arts.’
Reading opponents’ movements mid-battle was a rare talent. He’d likely excel against knights—having been beaten relentlessly by his brothers.
Yet Milelo frowned, dissatisfied.
“Tch! Wanted four digits. Shouldn’t have wasted that elixir on Edel.”
“Ah… Um…”
“Kidding, bastard! I’m not that petty!”
But Edel laughed awkwardly, shoulders trembling. He still feared Milelo.
‘Looks plenty petty to me.’
Ian smirked inwardly before refocusing on the ongoing assessments.
After Milelo’s turn, students queued eagerly. Yet even halfway through, his record held. Most scores hovered near or below average.
‘Mana levels aren’t as high as I expected.’
Not that Ian, allegedly below standard, had room to judge—but things had changed.
“At this rate, you might take first place,” Ian remarked.
“Unlikely.”
“Surprising. Weren’t you called a genius?”
Milelo jerked his chin toward a striking youth lingering apart from the crowd. Tall with sharp features, but pallid skin and blue-tinged lips gave him an eerie aura.
“Who’s that?”
“Ziekhardt Tellomien.”
A familiar name. Second son of the Tellomien Count family, a magical powerhouse. A prodigy hailed as the kingdom’s future.
Ziekhardt suddenly turned their way.
Their eyes met.
The youth’s bland expression twisted into a unnerving smile.
“Charming fellow,” Ian deadpanned.
“Keep your distance. His reputation’s… troubled.”
“How so?”
Milelo whispered:
“Rumors say he’s unhinged. Several subordinates died under him—allegedly.”
Mental instability wasn’t rare among mages. Obsession with research often broke minds.
“You think he’s stronger than you?”
“Probably. Whispers say he’s breached the 3rd Circle… Not that I’ve seen it.”
“Where do you stand?”
“Late 2nd Circle.”
As Ian nodded, Ziekhardt shoved aside a queuing student and claimed the device.
“Move.”
“Eek!”
Professors watched amusedly as he declared:
“Ziekhardt Tellomien. Proceeding with measurement.”
“Place your hand.”
Huummm!
Even from a distance, Ian felt the mana surge.
‘Powerful!’
Brighter, purer mana than Milelo’s flooded the orb. The professors’ eyes gleamed with interest.
‘If he’s 3rd Circle, maybe mid-1000s?’
Ian theorized the scoring system correlated with Circle tiers—a mage-made device would have such logic.
‘But this mana density… He’s nearly filled the orb.’
Flaws aside, no one else had reached this level. The mana’s hue alone indicated unparalleled purity.
The result flashed:
“Insane!”
“Impossible!”
“Is he even human?!”
Students gaped in disbelief. Nearly double last year’s average—500 points above Milelo.
“A monster beyond expectations.”
“This won’t be easy,” Milelo sighed, eyeing Ian.
“Confident? You’ll crush that bastard, right?”
“I told you—I’m 1st Circle.”
“And you expect anyone here to believe that?”
“You’ll see.”
“When?”
“Last.”
Ziekhardt locked eyes with Ian before exiting the hall, his chilling smile lingering.
‘Leaving already? Arrogant.’
Ian waited calmly.
Milelo’s record fell swiftly.
Nobles emerged in the latter half: two others crossed 1000 points, several exceeded 900.
“We’ve been frogs in a well,” Milelo muttered, disappointment clear. But he gripped his staff determinedly.
“Father will skin me when I return.”
“Too numb to care now. Just don’t exile me—I need my allowance. Damn it!”
“Cheer up. Today’s just the beginning.”
When Edel’s turn came, his timid touch yielded an unexpected 221.
“Higher than I thought!”
“Elixir effects. Your mana training helped.”
“Let’s celebrate at a fancy tavern! Keh keh!”
“You’re a leech,” Ian said.
“That’s what nobility exists for—to squeeze commoners dry.”
Oblivious, Edel bowed to his roommates gratefully.
― Only one remains. Who’s hiding?
At Dean Jessica’s call, Ian stepped forward.
Every student except Ziekhardt still lingered.
Rumors of Ian’s unique magic at the training grounds had spread. They awaited proof—the limits of Ian Oracle, heir to the theoretical magic legacy.
“Ian Oracle. Beginning mana measurement.”
Ian placed his hand on the orb.
