The wizards began to give up a week after the test began, their progress distinctly divided by their ranks.
The lower ranks gave up at numbers 1-4, while the middle ranks stopped at number 5.
The higher ranks were divided into those who could barely complete number 6 and those who had enough wits and tenacity to challenge number 7. The highest ranks were divided by the percentage of number 7 that they solved, from answering barely more than half to providing a complete solution.
No one could even talk about number 8.
Regardless, experiencing the test alone became a feat, a medal of sorts, for the students. It was a privilege that only 150 out of the 300 new wizards could enjoy.
Not only the senior wizards but even the professors were asking about the test.
On Saturday noon, the day the exams at the university tower were dated to end, Sylvia immersed herself in question number 8, forgetting the passage of time.
Her disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes were completely disparate from her usual neat appearance. Nevertheless, she ceaselessly released mana.
She had spent nearly five days on the final problem alone, and through it all, she had already written more than seven magic circles.
Due to the numerous magic involved with the problem, she decided to deduce them piece by piece and translate them into the answer sheet.
She had conjured multiple magic circles already, but she still had no idea how many more were left.
She finally understood the need for the gigantic answer sheets.
ââŚ!â
While writing the 8th magic circle, she felt a pain in her head and eyes. Acting swiftly, Sylvia quickly stopped the blood that was about to fall from her nose, knowing full well it might cause a problem if they dripped onto her papers.
Leaving the test room and creating a blood trail behind her, she noticed her reflection on the corridorâs window.
It was clear she had left herself unattended and unaccounted for.
ââŚâ
She might even die at this rate.
âI need to take a short break.â
Sylvia lightly tidied up her appearance using Cleanse as she headed for the elevator, finding the person she had seen for ten days straight seemingly dozing off.
âExcuse me.â
âAh! Oh. Ms. Sylvia, are you going out?â
âYes.â
âOkay, you may proceed.â
She got on the elevator and came out of the tower.
Fortunately, the surroundings were quiet. Sylvia walked to a nearby park, sat on one of its benches, and stared at the garden right in front of her.
ââŚâ
It was nothing out of the ordinary. It had grass, flowers, and trees stemming from the ground. Above the greenery shone the sun, providing them with the light that they need for photosynthesis.
The garden, just like question number 8, was the result of independent elements connecting to become one unit.
Hence, she thought creating and casting powerful advanced magic was no different from gardening.
Her father once told her that even if thousands or tens of thousands of Solda-ranked wizards gathered, they still wouldnât be able to manifest Great Magic, and Professor-level wizards could only do it when 30 of them gathered.
The Great Wizard could cast it by himself, however.
That was why only one Great Wizard existed in the past 60 years.
Even though he was now over a hundred years old, he could still break up question number 8 with just a glance.
ââŚâ
Sylvia closed her eyes for a moment and opened them after, finding the sunâs position had changed quite heavily.
She was confused at first but soon jumped up in shock upon understanding the phenomenon.
ââŚ!â
She accidentally fell asleep.
Sylvia rushed back to the tower and checked the clock. 4 PM.
There were only 31 hours and 59 minutes left until Sunday midnight.
She sat in her chair again, scribbling with her wizard-exclusive pen and mana in an attempt to answer a test question that was interconnected like several cogwheels.
Sylvia calmly dismantled the connection and analyzed each of them individually.
Without knowing how the magic circles took such forms, she couldnât even expect to find any hints, let alone answers. Hence, she focused heavily on the task at hand.
Tick tock tick tockââ
The clock ticked as if it were attached to herself.
Meanwhile, she constantly consumed her mana, which surprisingly reached tens of thousands, to imbue her answers into the answer sheet, until finallyâŚ
â⌠Eleven.â
A total of eleven completed answer sheets.
She put them down on the floor, carefully examining their structureâs order and combination.
The magic circles imprinted on the paper perfectly intertwined from the first to the eleventhâs core.
Sylvia took a deep breath.
She imbued her 150 hoursâ worth of eďŹort and mana into this magic.
âââ!
Her own soul even resonated with the magic circles on the answer sheet.
WhooooongâŚ
With her heart trembling, 80% of her mana was instantly consumed, and her test room soon completely changed.
ââŚâ
The magic that materialized extended over the walls and ceiling, creating an unfamiliar landscape that covered her roomâs entire space as it was separated from the rest of the world.
Cypress trees and wheat fields stretched across the lands, and clear winds and intense starlight enveloped the skies. Vegetable gardens littered the hills along with windmills, while acres upon acres of sunflowers beautifully decorated the vicinity of a simple village.
Deculeinâs genius materialized this space as a dedication to the young wizards who could solve all 11 techniques.
ââŚâ
Sylvia found herself mesmerized by the painting-like scenery filled with rich and dazzling colors.
It was an art that made the beholder tremble stronger the more they were dazzled by it.
âSylvia.â A voice flowed with the wind. Turning her gaze to where it came from, her eyes widened.
Amid the mystifying harmony of magic and art was Deculein. He wore his usual attire, which was perfect enough to make her wonder if it was magical.
âCongratulations.â He said, locking his eyes with hers.
⌠Kim Woo Jinâs soul had a strong desire for art, at the very least.
It was a passion that he couldnât abandon even if the world and reality themselves swept him away, a dream that âthat guyâ helped keep.
Although he couldnât reach his desired goal due to his lack of talent, eventually forcing him to push his love for the craft to the corner, Kim Woo Jinâs memories of those days were combined with Deculeinâs characteristic [Aesthetic Sense].
Having gained the artistic talent he desired, he ended up imitating the famous paintings that remained in his head, creating them in a world that wasnât Earth through illusory magic.
The Starry Night, The Road with Cypress Trees and Stars, The Sunflower, Vegetable Garden in Montmartre HillâŚ
The maker of those paintings struggled with endless pain and sorrow.
In the end, he was just a fleeting stranger who wasnât acknowledged in his lifetime, but his aďŹiction between death and madness allowed the most primitive beauty to bloom inside him. The story of the painter named Vincent Van Gogh was told through an entrancing and beautiful canvas that glowed brighter than his life ever did.
ââŚâ
Sylvia softly closed her eyes, the scene remaining in her vision even when she did, much like the warmth she felt on her skin.
It was all magic. Even the colors were made of elements.
The unfamiliar fields seemed to be moving, swaying along with the winds, causing tremors, which soon turned into an echo, to occur within her soul as she stood there amid it all.
After a brief silence, she heard his voice once more.
âThanks.â
Deculein uttered a word that caught her off guard.
ââŚ?â
She didnât know what he was grateful for, but he sounded sincere.
â⌠Good work.â
Deculein couldnât reproduce it with his own magic, but he wanted to see it with his own eyes at least once.
That was why he was grateful to Sylvia.
He didnât know if she understood him, but fortunately, she nodded as if she did in her own way.
Sylvia turned around again and left her body to the magical landscape, enjoying its light, breeze, scent, vibrant colors, and calming movements.
Not long after, she felt warmth flowing down her cheek.
A single teardrop fell, the one that she had kept inside her since her motherâs death.
ââŚâ Deculein had already left by the time she turned around after wiping it away.
⌠She was hoping to return his thanks.
*****
Knock knockâ
Allen opened the door of a test room filled with the scent of sweet coffee, finding Epherene inside.
It made him feel dizzy. Her answer sheets, imbued with multiple magic circles, were sprawled on the ground.
It was an approach close to Sylviaâs, but it resulted in failure in the end. âDebutante Epherene. Time is up.â
ââŚ!â
Epherene flinched. Looking up, she saw Allen.
âAh⌠Is that so?â She scratched the back of her head and smiled bitterly. âThatâs too bad.â
Allen just smiled in return.
âBy the way, Assistant Professor. This test questionâŚâ Epherene hesitated, sounding embarrassed and regretful.
âAh, yes, Iâll give it to you. Professor Deculein told me to do so. Heâll send a new set of test papers along with a magic vault. However, we will need a drop of your blood.â
There were a total of four people who solved the problems up to number 7, but there were only two who filled it in 11 days.
Epherene was one of them. Hence, she deserved to be rewarded.
âWhew⌠Thank you so much.â She got up with a sigh of relief then collected blood. Afterward, she took all of her belongings with her, including her writing instruments and clothes, as she left the test room.
Allen saw her oďŹ to the elevator at the tower.
âYouâve done well, Ms. Epherene.â
â⌠Thank you, Assistant Professor Allen. For the test paper as well.â
Epherene bowed so deep the bag she was carrying on her back fell on the top of her head and came up.
âHehe. Itâs okay.â Allen laughed. âThe test paper will arrive in 3 days. Feel free to solve it anytime by then. Iâll also enclose ten magic answer sheets with it.â
âAh, really, thank you so muchâŚâ
âHowever, donât bury yourself in it.â
Dingâ
The elevator arrived just in time.
âWhat you didnât learn now, what you havenât realized, you will sooner or later. The day will come when youâll be able to solve it all. Trying to solve it every day might prove too hard, so I suggest limiting yourself to once a week.â
Allen looked like he didnât know what he was talking about, but Epherene nodded and smiled brightly, understanding the gist of what he meant.
Her smiling face looked bright.
âYes, Iâll try to solve it at least once a week.â
â⌠Okay.â Allen watched her with envious eyes for some reason. âTake care~â
Epherene waved to the assistant professor until the elevator door closed. HoweverâŚ
Dingâ!
When the door closed, her smile quickly disappeared. Blood flowed from her molars after biting them all day that they almost fell out.
â⌠ha.â
She buried herself in the corner of the elevator. She shook her shoulder like that and punched the wall of the elevator.
Dingâ!
âUggggh!â She thought the elevator was broken, but its doors opened normally. It was already midnight, but many wizards took the elevator from the 25th floor anyway.
It was the Solda wizards who were under the professors. No, they were more like slaves than wizards.
Dingâ!
The elevator stopped again on the 21st floor.
Dingâ!
It did so once more, this time on the 19th floor.
Dingâ!
12th floor.
Dingâ!
5th.
By then, the elevator was already filled with approximately 30 wizards.
âWah, when will we be allowed to sleep?â
âWait, donât push. Thereâs someone in the cornerâŚâ
âGrading is crazy.â
âArgh⌠Donât pushâŚâ
âIf we donât do all this, weâll get another complaint, though.â
âSave meâŚâ
âUgh. If we do, the professor will scold us again, saying, âwhy do you never consider my image?'â
Dingâ!
Epherene arrived on the ground floor after almost getting squashed by people.
â⌠Hoo.â
She then left the tower feeling dizzy, making her think she had become anemic. Squinting, she trudged forward, but she couldnât put strength into her legs. They stiffened up just as she was about to reach the exit.
Unable to walk any further, she was left with no other choice but to stand still and hope her legs wouldnât give up.
âOh, itâs Ifi!â
Right in front of her were the members of the club she founded in a moment of bewilderment.
ââŚâ
Epherene couldnât handle the moment.
Her cheeks swelled up like meat buns. It felt like a dam she had been holding together had burst.
âIfi~ donât cry. Letâs eat. Roahawk boar is being prepared in our restaurant.â
âRoahawkâŚâ
Her friends approached her first, who was standing vacantly, then they walked out together.
âI wonât give you any if you cry.â
â⌠Iâm not crying. When did I cry?â
***
⌠Darkness fell on the usually bright palace of the imperial family.
The emperor changed into a black and white attire as the royal palace gates were tightly closed.
At the sides of the carpet at the center, which only the emperor could walk on, the imperial knights, ministers, grand oďŹcers, and government oďŹcials knelt.
Crebaim sat on the throne, but he couldnât be seen without a veil.
He wished to have a swift passing.
Silence permeated the throne hall, but it wasnât silent enough to make his breathing hearable by his subjects.
The subjects and the knights managed to hold back their tears, but the sounds of their whimpers leaked.
The emperor wouldnât see the end of today. Soon enough, his body would be put inside a simple wooden coffin, as he willed.
The palace gates wouldnât be opened for three days upon his death, and after nine days, the enthronement would be held. The heads of the families would gather as the representatives of the sons and daughters of the kingdoms the empire ruled over.
⌠The emperorâs death wasnât far oďŹ.
Sophien Aekater Augus von Jaegus Gifrein, the first in line to the throne was pondering in her inner chambers.
â⌠Your Highness.â Sophienâs knight, Keiron, called out to her.
She set her gaze upon him, her crimson pupils sinking languidly between her narrowed eyelids.
âShouldnât you call me Your Majesty now?â
âYour Majesty has not died yet.â
Sophien burst into a smirk.
âNo, itâs already been more than six months.â
ââŚâ
Keiron pulled out documents and handed them to her. âThis monthâs homework.â
âLeave it.â
âItâs homework.â
âYou always only carry your load. So frustrating.â
âPlease solve it. This examâs popular these days.â
Sophien, who was sure to succeed the throne, had a talent in all fields.
Holding a sword, she could ascend to Valhalla. Becoming a sage wouldnât be farfetched either if she equipped herself with books. Naturally, if she decided to study magic, she could challenge the Great Wizard himself for his title.
The problem was her laziness.
Already past the age of twenty, Sophien showed no enthusiasm in any field. Even so, she had no gaps.
She could easily grasp and cope with any situation. Devoid of any emotion when making decisions, she prevented herself from making any rash and hasty judgment. Sophien made it a point to separate her personal and professional life.
Needless to say, she already had the qualities of an emperor set to become far superior in all fields than Crebaim.
âHmm.â
Sophien looked at the papers given by Keiron.
âSo, itâs magic.â
âYes.â
She then saw the author of the exam. âDeculein von Grahan Yukline.â
âYou know him?â
âOf course. Heâs the one who defended the Red Box at Bercht, making the entire conference feel uncomfortable. What is even going on in that guyâs mind? Why is he suddenly defending the Red Box?â
â⌠Heâs never been known to have a good reputation in the first place.â Keiron smiled bitterly.
She threw away the document without saying a word.
âYou should still read it, though.â
âWhy?â
âIt was auctioned at the floating island, with its worth reaching 30 thousand Elnes.â
âWhy?â
âIt was sold in limited quantities. Even Lord Geor and even Lord Sopier have read itââ
âWhy?â
â⌠Do whatever you want with it, then.â
âWhy?â
ââŚâ
She laughed lowly.
âIâll read it later. Did you give one to Kreto too?â
âLord Kreto participated in the auction himself.â
âHeâs doing his best on useless things.â
Kreto, the second in line to the throne, was her little brother. He was a Lumier-ranked wizard who had an aďŹnity for magic.
âBack to the topic, Keiron. What do you think I should do with the Red Box when I ascend the throne?â
The knight didnât reply to Sophienâs question, causing her to twist her lips.
âYou always say knights do not involve themselves with politics.â
âItâs âknights donât talk much.'â
âThatâs the same thing. You only shut up when the conversationâs about politics. If youâre going to do that, you shouldnât have spoken at all in the first place. Youâd still refuse to talk about it even if you got a knife pressed against your throat.â
ââŚâ
Keiron looked at Sophien.
There was always a light that transcended the Highnessâ pupils. Most people called it the talent and pride she was born with, but it was just a rotten and frozen gaze for Keiron, who had been with her since she was thirteen.
Doooongâ
The drum of the palace rang. Keiron bit his lips softly.
âYour Highness, we have to go now.â
âYeah.â
Sophien got up from her seat and walked more confidently and majestically than anyone else, which evidenced that she had always been naturally enveloped by dignity and majesty since she was born to the royal family.