Ronan and Orin stepped into Mr. Alden's office, their voices harmonising as they greeted him.
"Good morning, sir."
Mr. Alden looked up from his desk and offered them a welcoming nod. "Good morning, boys."
Orin, his excitement barely contained, spoke first. "Sir, my brother Roderick wants me to join him on a mission to gain some practical experience."
Mr. Alden's lips curled into an approving smile. "That's an excellent idea, Orin. Field experience is invaluable at your stage. You should go."
Orin beamed, grateful for the encouragement. Meanwhile, Mr. Alden shifted his gaze to Ronan, his expression firm yet encouraging. "As for you, Ronan, you're with me for now. Before you can begin any training, I need you to take a test."
Ronan nodded, his voice steady. "Understood, sir."
With that settled, Orin turned to leave, but Ronan quickly followed him outside the office, catching his arm. Lowering his voice, Ronan spoke with quiet urgency. "Orin, listen. Don't mention what happened this morning, especially in front of Samantha and Lyra. I don't want to create any misunderstandings or put a strain on their friendship. And honestly… I highly doubt those guys were sent by Lyra."
Orin's expression turned serious as he absorbed his friend's words. After a moment, he gave a small nod. "Alright. I won't say anything."
Just then, Mr. Alden stepped out of his office, his sharp eyes landing on Orin. "If you ever need advice about training or your mission, don't hesitate to come to me."
Orin straightened and nodded respectfully. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
Mr. Alden then turned to Ronan with a firm nod. "Let's go."
As Mr. Alden and Ronan walked away, Orin took a deep breath before heading towards his brother Roderick. Along the way, he spotted Samantha approaching from the opposite direction, her presence always carrying a sense of warmth and quiet strength.
"Good morning, Orin," she greeted with a polite smile.
"Good morning, Samantha," Orin replied, returning the gesture.
Her gaze turned inquisitive. "Are you joining us on the mission today?"
Orin nodded. "Yeah. Roderick asked me to come along."
Samantha let out a small sigh, her expression tinged with disappointment. "I also tried convincing Ronan to come with us."
Orin hesitated before answering, carefully choosing his words. "I don't think he'll be joining us today. Sir Alden took him for some kind of test. I don't know the details, though."
Samantha's brow furrowed with curiosity. "A test? I'll ask him about it later."
As they continued towards their meeting point, anticipation built in the air. Roderick, Dorin, Lyra, Samantha, Sophia, and Orin were preparing to embark on a dangerous mission to hunt down some Rank Four and Rank Five monster dens, a task that would challenge even experienced Master-Tier magic users
With their objectives set and their determination firm, they left the academy, stepping into the unknown, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
The towering structure in the northern sector of Serenwyn Magic Academy loomed over the surrounding buildings, its ancient stone walls emanating a quiet, foreboding presence. Mr. Alden led Ronan through the grand entrance, their footsteps echoing against the marble floors. The air inside was thick with the scent of parchment and candle wax, an indication of the knowledge and secrets stored within these walls.
At the reception sat an old man, his face lined with age and wisdom. He peered up from his ledger as they approached, his sharp gaze settling on Ronan.
"Sir," Mr. Alden spoke with a sense of urgency, "can you enroll this student for the Mind Test? Also, I need someone to check him for any corruption."
Ronan raised his eyebrows, thinking, "Corruption? Corruption means oone's mana properties and behavior will start to change. This corruption occurs when someone is exposed to a certain kind of monster or a mana zone where mana is already corrupted. But I've never experienced this. Then, why?" Then a sudden realisation struck Ronan, "Is it because of my uncontrollable rage that night?" Ronan sighed and thought, "I need to control my anger."
The old man studied Ronan for a moment before nodding. Without a word, he gestured to a nearby attendant, a robed figure who stepped forward and placed a glowing hand over Ronan's chest. A faint pulse of light travelled through Ronan's body before dissipating.
After a moment, the attendant spoke. "There is no corruption in his body."
Mr. Alden exhaled in relief and turned to Ronan. "Listen carefully. I cannot tell you the details of this exam, only that it will test both your physical and mental fortitude. Be prepared."
Ronan nodded, his expression resolute. "I understand."
The old man rose from his seat and motioned for them to follow. They walked down a dimly lit corridor, the silence between them heavy with anticipation. At the end of the hallway, the old man opened a door leading into a chamber filled with intricate runes pulsating with energy. In the centre of the room, a swirling portal shimmered, its surface rippling like disturbed water.
"Step through," the old man instructed.
Without hesitation, Ronan inhaled deeply and strode into the portal. The moment he disappeared, the air in the room tensed.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a man stormed in, his emerald eyes blazing with fury. "Alden, stop this at once!"
Mr. Alden turned sharply. "Alaric Viridion! What are you doing here?"
Alaric's face twisted with frustration. "Where is that boy?"
"He's already entered," Mr. Alden replied evenly.
Alaric's composure shattered. He lunged forward, grabbing Mr. Alden's collar. "Are you out of your mind? A few days ago, you dragged two Adept Tier students into a high-level mission, and now you're making a student take the Mind Test? This test is designed for Master Tier magic users! Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Mr. Alden opened his mouth to respond, but the old man's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Both of you, shut up and look at this."
A magical screen flickered to life before them, displaying Ronan within the illusory realm. The old man's brows furrowed. "The stronger the mind, the stronger the illusion. This test manifests illusions based on the seven deadly sins: pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, and sloth."
Mr. Alden, looking at the screen, said Ronan's Killing Intent. Even though he acted recklessly, with that much Killing Intent, it felt like he still had control over himself."
Mr. Alaric's eyes widened as he asked, "Killing Intent? Are you nuts or something? He is still too young. How did he develop Killing Intent? Killing Intent is not something one can gain easily, as it is an extreme desire to kill someone or something. And there are two ways to acquire it, to have an extreme desire to kill or to kill countless."
Mr. Alden replied, "As his teacher, I want to know what I'm dealing with. I don't want my student to fall into darkness. I would like to nurture him so he won't fall into darkness. And there is more, it looks like his magic is also responding according to his emotions."
The old man, Arnold, said, "Killing Intent and magic responding to emotions, interesting."
The illusion had begun, and Ronan was already trapped within its grasp.
The question was, could he break free?
The moment he stepped through the portal, the world around him twisted and shattered like fragile glass. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer himself. His body felt lighter, smaller. The weight of his years, his memories, gone.
When he opened his eyes, he was a boy, standing in the heart of a grand estate. A lavish courtyard stretched before him, servants bowing at his presence, their eyes filled with reverence and fear. He could feel the opulence in every detail: the golden embroidery on his robe, the soft silk against his skin, the polished marble beneath his feet. Yet, an eerie hollowness clawed at his chest.
"Young Master, your father has summoned you," a voice interrupted his thoughts.
A butler stood before him, his face aged yet expressionless. The title 'Young Master' felt oddly natural, yet something deep within him screamed that it was all wrong. He tried to grasp at his past, but the more he reached, the more it slipped through his fingers like mist. Who was he before this?
He was noble. He was powerful. He held wealth beyond measure. And yet, he was drowning.
The illusion wrapped around him like chains, feeding him pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, and sloth. They whispered sweet nothings into his ears, urging him to revel in his authority, to take what he desired, to bask in his indulgence. But a flicker of something, fear? burned in the pit of his stomach. Why did he feel like a prisoner in his own skin?
Days passed in a dreamlike haze. His life was perfect, yet it felt unreal. His mind would scream in the silence of the night, urging him to wake up. But wake up from what?
At the grand dining hall, a feast lay before him. Exotic meats, the richest of wines, fruits so ripe their juices dripped like nectar. The air was heavy with indulgence. A girl, her face too familiar yet impossible to recognize, knelt before him, offering a goblet.
"You deserve all of this, Young Master," she murmured. Her eyes, empty yet filled with something sinister, bore into him.
His fingers trembled as he reached for the cup. A whisper in the back of his mind told him not to drink. His heartbeat thundered. The illusion tightened around him, suffocating, twisting his reality. The people around him laughed, their voices distant yet deafening.
"This is wrong."
The words barely left his lips before pain shot through his skull. His body convulsed as a thousand memories clashed within him, fragments of a forgotten past clawing their way back. He wasn't a young master. He wasn't part of this world.
The illusion fought back with fury. Shadows clawed at his consciousness, dragging him deeper. His vision blurred, his limbs heavy. He tried to stand, but his body refused to move.
"No."
Panic surged through his veins. Fear. Helplessness. Powerlessness. He gasped for breath as if drowning in an ocean of deceit. The faces around him twisted, their smiles warping into grotesque grins. Their laughter became whispers of temptation, urging him to submit.
A glimmer of light, faint yet resolute, burned within his mind. His past. His true self. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm. Pain. Real. Grounding.
He had to break free.
With every ounce of willpower, he roared against the illusion, his voice raw with desperation. The world trembled. The golden halls cracked, the servants dissolved into dust, and the feast rotted before his eyes. A monstrous wail echoed through the collapsing reality as the illusion shattered, and the darkness swallowed him whole.
When Ronan opened his eyes again, a man stood amidst the carnage, blood dripping from his blade. Villagers lay motionless, and among them were his sister and his friends. His heart clenched.