Chapter 1: The Magic Martial Assessment

Bosang Town was a small settlement near the imperial capital of the Europa Empire. Today, the only church in town was surrounded by crowds gathered in the plaza at its entrance. Each person watched the proceedings with either excitement or nervous anticipation, for this was the day the academies held their admission tests.

"Physical condition barely meets the standard—you can become a Warrior," the tester said impassively.

"Yes!" The words had barely left his mouth before a portly youth in front of him leapt up, unleashing his elation at passing the test. After celebrating, the boy cast a mocking glance at a frail-looking youth not far behind him, snorted, and strode toward his family, who were cheering for him.

"Next," the tester's voice rang out again.

Ignoring the provocation, the slender youth took a deep breath and stepped forward confidently.

"Try to endure, and remain standing," the tester murmured. He raised his palm, and a crimson radiance shot forth, enveloping the youth before him.

The boy knew that this fiery glow was the aura of fire element battle energy; he had to withstand it for ten seconds to pass the test.

The moment the battle energy touched him, the frail youth felt a scorching force press upon his body, as if his heart were being squeezed tightly, making his breathing labored.

Behind him, the portly youth watched with glee as the other boy's face turned red, secretly hoping he would collapse.

Elsewhere in the crowd, a middle-aged man with thinning hair gazed anxiously at the youth in the arena. The dozen wrinkles etched into his face seemed to deepen under the strain.

"Six seconds, seven seconds..." the youth counted silently. Despite the dizziness overcoming him, he refused to give up. This was his only path to improving his family's circumstances; he wanted to support his household and ease the burden on the man behind him.

"Crack, crack." A brittle sound of bones echoed from within, and the frail youth trembled.

"Eight seconds! Nine seconds!" People began counting quietly in the crowd. If he could last ten seconds, the town would gain another Warrior prospect, bringing pride to their community.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar filled the boy's head, louder than the most powerful cannon fired nearby, and he lost consciousness, collapsing to the ground.

A sigh rippled through the crowd; they felt pity for the youth. Had he endured for just another half-second, he would have passed.

As expected, the moment the boy fell, the tester halted the examination, casting a gentle red glow over him. Moments later, the youth awoke to hear a cold voice: "Your physical condition is inadequate. You cannot become a Warrior."

Already pale, the boy's face drained of all color. He looked pleadingly at the tester, lips trembling, as if wanting to speak.

The tester frowned and said coolly, "Step aside. Do not interfere with the ongoing tests."

Disappointment washed over the frail youth's face. Just as he was about to turn away, footsteps sounded behind him—the middle-aged man approached, laid a hand on his shoulder, and encouraged him: "My little Rollin did very well—almost passed!"

"Father..." Tears swirled in Rollin's large eyes, but he managed not to let them fall.

The tester grew impatient and was about to reprimand the pair when the man walked over, forced a smile, and said, "Master Doug, I wish for Rollin to take the mage's test."

A murmur swept through the crowd.

"Is old Gegil drunk? Does he really think his son could be a mage?"

"Oh, heavens, did you hear that? Gegil the pauper wants Rollin tested as a mage!"

Among the crowd, the portly youth sneered, "Gegil, have you lost your mind? How could a child from your lowly family become a noble mage? Is it because Miss Karina became a mage that you nurture false hopes? Hmph! How could Rollin ever compare to Miss Karina?"

"Glenn, shut your mouth!" Rollin spun around, glaring fiercely at Glenn, the young nobleman of the town.

Despite Glenn's usual bullying of poor children, he harbored a wary respect for Rollin. Though Rollin couldn't win in a fight, there was a fierceness in him—a reckless defiance—that made Glenn uneasy.

"Hmph, don't get cocky. If you fail the test, you'll have plenty to cry about!"

At that moment, the tester spoke: "Gegil, as per the rules, the mage’s test requires a fee of one hundred gold coins. Pay first."

"Very well, I... I'll pay." Gegil reached into his coat, his calloused hands trembling as he produced a coarse cloth pouch.

"Father, I don't want to be tested!" Rollin’s nose stung as he tried to stop Gegil. He knew exactly what a hundred gold coins meant. His family surely couldn't afford it; his father must have scraped it together through loans and favors. If they spent it now, they would have to tighten their belts for a long time.

Gegil patted his head, speaking earnestly: "Little Rollin, I know you care for the family, but this fee must be paid. I may be poor, but I don't want my son to live his whole life with regrets."

Rollin's eyes reddened; he was speechless.

"Yes, one hundred coins—exactly. Please move over here," the tester Doug said, satisfied as he pocketed the coins. He walked to a large stone table and motioned for Rollin to join him.

The stone table was broad. On one side rested a crystal ball, gleaming and transparent; on the other, a tall black stone pillar. These were the instruments for mage testing.

"Place your hand on the crystal ball and keep it still," Doug instructed.

Rollin stretched out his trembling right hand, anxiety rising in his heart. He silently wished, "I must pass..."

Behind him, the crowd fell silent, awaiting the result, though their hopes for Rollin were slim.

The reason was simple: if one in a hundred could become a Warrior, then not even one in ten thousand would qualify as a mage. The requirements for mages were too high: not only must one possess elemental affinity, but also mental strength five times greater than an ordinary person. In a small place like Bosang Town, it was normal to go years without a single mage candidate.

Rollin’s hand edged toward the crystal ball, finally touching its cool, smooth surface.

At that moment—

A dazzling light rose from within the crystal ball, so bright that nearby townsfolk squinted. Doug, usually indifferent, was startled.

A stir went through the crowd.

"When Glenn was tested, the crystal ball barely glowed. But Rollin—"

"This is brighter than during Miss Karina's test! Doug said she had high elemental affinity. What about Rollin?"

Old Gegil’s furrowed brow finally relaxed, and the wrinkles on his forehead seemed to fade.

Doug recovered from his shock, indicating Rollin could remove his hand.

Rollin watched Doug anxiously. Though he had his own suspicions, he wanted to hear the results from Doug himself.

"Dark element affinity—superior. Lightning element affinity—superior. Fire element affinity—high!" Doug announced in a single breath.

An uproar exploded in the crowd. Superior affinity meant an extreme compatibility with those elements—it was the highest level. And Rollin had two superior affinities!

Just then, several robed figures pushed through the crowd. They were representatives from the various mage academies, eager not to miss such a talent. They surrounded Rollin, vying to greet him.

Rollin was dazed, responding passively.

"Gentlemen, please wait. Allow Rollin to finish all the tests before speaking with him," Doug said hastily, sweat beading on his brow. He had never seen such a situation.

"Very well, Rollin, complete the test. Afterwards, remember to consider our academy first!"

"Yes, Rollin, test your mental strength carefully. I doubt there will be any issue. Remember our Derow Academy—the terms are very generous!"

Rollin squeezed his way past the enthusiastic recruiters, wiped his brow, and approached the stone table's other side, where the black stone pillar stood. Its base had a red line, below which five evenly spaced markings were etched.

Doug, usually cold, smiled and motioned for Rollin to stand before the pillar.

Once Rollin was ready, Doug pressed twice on the table. A milky white glow emerged atop the pillar, enveloping Rollin.

Everyone held their breath, watching intently. If Rollin's mental strength met the requirements, Bosang Town would soon boast a remarkable mage.

A wave of overwhelming drowsiness washed over Rollin. "No, I must not sleep!" he struggled, but the feeling grew stronger, his eyelids heavy as if weighted by lead.

At the base of the pillar, a white mist rose, passing the first mark before slowing at the second, where it halted.

With a thud, Rollin collapsed, the milky glow fading. He regained consciousness and saw the mist had only reached the second mark. Hearing the disappointed sighs around him, tears flooded his eyes. He knew he had failed again—his mental strength was only twice that of an ordinary person, while five times was required to qualify as a mage.

"Father, I'm sorry!" Rollin suddenly scrambled up, barged through the crowd, and ran toward the outskirts of town.

"Little Rollin—" Gegil wanted to console him, but Rollin was already gone. "Ah, the child has always been burdened by worries; perhaps it's good for him to vent outside..." He sighed, squeezed through the crowd, greeted a few friends listlessly, then walked alone into the town, his figure forlorn.

Outside town, Rollin ran until exhaustion forced him to stop, staggering as he stood. He paid no attention to his surroundings, only feeling a surge of sorrow. "God, why wouldn't you let me pass? Not as a Warrior, not as a mage—why? Why?"

"Because you stepped on Lord Kus’s head!" Suddenly, an angry voice rang out from beneath his feet.

"Ah!" Rollin cried out, jumping away. He saw a white stone where he had stood. As he hesitated, a dim black glow emanated from the stone, and a translucent figure emerged.

It was a withered, skeletal old man, whose face bore almost no flesh. Deep, hollow eyes glared at Rollin with rage.

"A ghost!" Rollin shouted, turning to flee.

The skeletal old man panicked; he had no wish to remain alone here any longer. He had endured over a thousand years in this desolate place. Seeing Rollin run, he shouted for him to return.

Rollin ignored him, running even harder.

The old man gritted his teeth and shouted after him, "Boy, if you want to become a mage, don't leave!"