Magna Voldric found himself trapped in a storm of panic. His breath was heavy, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, and sweat trickled down his forehead.
"If this is how hard the exams are…" he muttered, struggling to steady his stance. "Then nobody's going to pass."
His opponent—Examiner Lilia Meldric—smiled lightly, like a predator playing with her prey.
"Magna dear… you're losing focus."
Before he could react, her figure blurred. She appeared in front of him in an instant and slammed her fist into his stomach. The blow rattled his bones, nearly knocking him unconscious. He stumbled backward, coughing violently.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this…" Magna gasped, clutching his abdomen. "But if I don't… I'll lose everything."
His mana flared wildly as he chanted.
"9th Grade Spell—Absolute Armor!"
Flames erupted around him, hardening into an obsidian-red shell that encased his body like molten steel. His aura surged, and for the first time, the crowd roared with excitement.
"Ohh?" Lilia tilted her head, amused. "Absolute Armor? Impressive. But sloppy."
She tossed aside her staff with a grin and lunged straight into him, fists blazing with enchanted water. The arena shook as their blows collided—flame against water, steel against flesh.
For a moment, they looked evenly matched. Each strike rattled the ground beneath them. But then… cracks began to spread across Magna's armor.
"No… no I can't lose!" Magna screamed, mana exploding from him in a desperate wave. "One day, I'll be the strongest mage alive! I refuse to lose here!"
His armor repaired itself under sheer willpower, glowing even hotter. He charged forward once more.
But Lilia only smiled. "And what made you think I'd fight fair, little noble?"
Her staff reappeared in her hand in a flash of water.
"7th Grade Spell—Magic Disruption!"
The crowd gasped as Magna's Absolute Armor shattered like glass, dissipating into sparks of molten mana. His defenses were gone.
"You're strong, Magna," Lilia said coldly. "But against us examiners? You never stood a chance. We were given strict orders not to hold back… especially against the four of you."
Magna's eyes widened. "The four of us…?"
"9th Grade Spell—Hand of the Sea God!"
A titanic fist of water materialized above him, slamming down with monstrous force. Magna was crushed into the arena floor, the impact sending shockwaves through the stands. Dust filled the air.
When it cleared, Magna lay unconscious.
"The fight has ended!" the announcer declared.
The audience erupted into whispers.
"Damn… the examiner wasn't that harsh with us…"
"Why go so hard on him?"
"Does this mean the four of them are special?"
---
In the waiting room, the other examinees watched silently as Magna was carried to the healers.
Alys Voldric's voice cracked with uncharacteristic worry. "Magna… why did that teacher go all out on you? They're supposed to be testing us, not trying to kill us!"
Still groggy, Magna gritted his teeth. "She said… they were ordered not to hold back. Against us four specifically."
Ragnar blinked. "I get why they'd want to test you three—you're nobles. But why me? I only just learned how to use magic…" He crossed his arms, a pit of doubt forming in his chest.
Alys frowned, studying him carefully. "Yeah, why would they? You're just a commoner. It doesn't make sense."
Light Excalibur chuckled, stretching his arms. "It's not about birth, Ragnar. They only go this far with students recommended by someone powerful. Nobles, royals… or prodigies noticed by an influential mage."
"But…" Ragnar frowned. "I don't know anyone that powerful."
Light smirked knowingly. "Doesn't matter. Someone saw potential in you. That's all it takes."
Magna clenched his fists, a faint smile forming despite his wounds. "So I didn't fail yet… as long as I give it my best, I still have a chance."
"You better believe it," Light said, standing tall. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as his name was called. "Well, looks like it's my turn."
"Light Excalibur, step forward!"
---
The arena doors opened, and a massive man stepped onto the field. His presence alone made the crowd go silent. His muscles were like boulders, his height towering above all.
"Your examiner," he said, voice deep as thunder, "is Ordric. Try not to disappoint me."
Light smirked, mana already crackling around him. "Nice to meet you, sir. But I'm afraid I'll have to kick your ass."
The crowd gasped at his boldness.
Without hesitation, Light chanted.
"10thGrade Spell—Dagger of the Thunder God!
9th Grade Spell—Dagger of the Light Goddess!"
Twin blades of lightning and light formed in his hands, humming with power. His body flickered, his speed increasing until he became a blur.
He struck first—slashes across Ordric's chest, arms, legs. Sparks flew. Blood spattered. But Ordric only stood there, unfazed, staring down at him.
Light panted, blades trembling in his hands. "Come on! If you just stand there, you're gonna die!"
Ordric smirked. "I was testing your limits. And I must say… I'm disappointed."
He raised his massive hand, mana glowing faintly.
"8th grade magic spell—TearsoftheHealingFairy."
Before the stunned audience's eyes, every wound closed. His skin knitted back together, smooth as if nothing had touched him. His muscles bulged, his aura spiked.
"This spell doesn't just heal," Ordric said, stepping forward. "It boosts strength… and speed."
He vanished. One moment he stood still, the next he appeared behind Light.
"Too slow, boy."
A colossal fist slammed into the back of Light's head, launching him across the arena. He crashed into the wall, coughing blood.
Ragnar's heart sank. "Shit… if he takes another hit like that…"
Ordric's voice boomed. "Is that all you've got, Light?!"
Light spat blood, standing shakily, his eyes burning with defiance. "No… I've still got one more trick."
The arena trembled as he raised his blades. Lightning roared in the sky.
"7th grade spell—BattlefieldoftheThunderGod!"
The crowd gasped. A student casting 7th grade magic?!
Thunder surged across the arena, arcs of lightning splitting the ground. Light's speed multiplied again, his movements creating dozens of afterimages.
"Your spell is incomplete," Ordric warned. "You can't hold it for long."
"Three minutes," Light admitted. "But three minutes… is all I need."
He struck—slashes from every direction. Ordric blocked some, dodged others, but the sheer speed overwhelmed him. One blade struck his arm, another his shoulder. Lightning burst, forcing him back.
Finally, Light spun, blades glowing with divine thunder and radiant light, and plunged them straight into Ordric's chest.
The giant fell, pinned to the ground. Light stood above him, blades poised at his throat, his body trembling with exhaustion.
"Winner… Light Excalibur!" the announcer declared.
The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting his name.
Light stumbled, barely conscious. "Heh… guess I won after all."
Ordric laughed, his deep voice echoing. "Don't fool yourself, kid. I wasn't fighting at full strength. If I was… you'd already be dead."
Light smiled faintly. "Yeah… I figured." Then he collapsed.
Ordric caught him before he hit the ground and carried him to the healers.
---
Back in the waiting area, the announcer's voice rang again.
"Alys Voldric. Step forward."
Alys smirked, brushing her long black hair behind her ear. "Guess it's my turn. If Light could push that giant back, then I'll be fine."
Magna sat upright, eyes sharp. "Alys… don't underestimate your opponent. If you do, you'll lose."
She smirked confidently. "Don't worry. I've got this. After all… I'm the youngest mage to ever achieve the rank of 8th Grade Magic Knight."
Her aura flared like wildfire, and she walked into the arena with unshakable pride