At last, the sun rose on the horizon, lighting up the faces of the hopeful youths still forming their groups under the warm blue sky.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the gate, a dense snowstorm awaited them.
And from there came a man with a stern expression, leaning on a steel cane, accompanied by two other mages.
The young people, seeing him approach, swallowed hard, nerves on edge.
Silence fell among them.
"I see we have a large batch this year," the man said, walking toward the notice board.
"I just hope that a large batch means a great harvest." He stopped in front of the board, letting his gaze wander across the crowd for a few moments.
"But by the looks of it, we'll have even more dropouts this year." His sharp eyes landed on Lena.
Sweat dripped down her forehead as his gaze slowly shifted.
Then it fell on the so-called prodigy, Simon. who inevitably tried to avert his eyes and hide, terror plain on his face.
"My name is Ivan, and as you should well know, this is the entrance exam for the Elemental Guild." He began his explanation, resting on his steel cane.
"The Guild governs and maintains order across the continent, and every year it seeks out new talents for its many fields."
"However!" He slammed the notice board hard. "We are mages, and we do not tolerate slackers in our ranks."
"Your test, if you wish to join the Guild, is simple: make your journey to the Guild Academy." He chuckled, then pointed his cane toward the raging ice storm.
"Not that this will be an easy task." He laughed again at the frightened faces of the youths.
"The forest is of glacial cold, and considering the season, there will be hostile spirits wandering it, as well as beasts even less friendly."
He then summoned his spirit: a polar bear with icy fangs and jaws.
The bear rose up on its hind legs, reaching three meters in height, and roared, terrifying everyone. Many of the youths stumbled and fell.
"This is a real spirit. It won't play games. It won't want a contract. It won't want dialogue. It will want to kill you."
The bear crashed back down onto all fours with a thud, its tongue sliding between its teeth as it growled.
"If that scares you, then go home. Real mages deal with things far worse than this every single day." His gaze hardened as he emphasized the words.
"Furthermore, if you think surviving the forest is enough, sorry to tell you, but it isn't!" He shouted again, slamming the notice board.
"There are three types of mages: Production mages! Theoretical mages! Combat mages!" He strode through the youths, swinging his cane.
"Surviving puts you on the production line. Surviving and completing quests earns you a comfortable desk job… but…"
"Playing with the forest as if it were a cat, without any fear of its claws or its bite. Taming that forest completely. That makes you a combat mage."
He laughed again, savoring the frightened expressions of the children around him.
"And of course, that's what the quests are for. Form groups or go alone, each mission carries points. Perform impressive feats and earn bonuses."
"Keep this in mind: points are distributed evenly among members. So between carrying dead weight or making your friend quit, choose the latter."
At last, he glanced back at the mages behind him and asked:
"Are we done? Can I get to the fun part now?" His colleagues chuckled before nodding.
"Well, as usual, you brats don't know how to pick groups and end up whining, unsure whether your companions are lying about their backgrounds or not."
"Or you want to meet someone worthy enough to join your little team. And so, we'll be holding our annual tournament."
"Participation is voluntary, but it'll help you immensely. So sign up, please. It's the only fun part of my job."
He coughed, then, in a burst of sparks, summoned a chair and a table, followed by a box and some forms.
He sat down with his colleagues and quietly watched them.
The youths watched back in silence.
"..."
"Did I go too hard this year?" Ivan muttered to a colleague. "They're petrified…"
"I think it was just right, boss," the colleague replied. "Honestly, I think you should've attacked one of them as an example."
"You're right! This generation's too soft. Back in my day, we fought bears like Igrivild before even entering the forest."
The two kept chatting casually, while the young ones slowly regained their composure.
But every word that left the mage's mouth after that speech only made them tremble even more.
Then, cutting through the crowd, a red-haired youth advanced with steady steps. He stopped right in front of the so-called prodigy, Simon.
"Hey!" he barked at the frightened boy. "This is a good chance for a demonstration, don't you think?"
"D-demonstration?" Simon asked nervously.
"Yes, a demonstration." The boy flashed a wide grin. "You're our future ruler, aren't you? You need to show your strength."
"Y-yes… I guess…" Simon looked down for a moment, then took a deep breath and lifted his gaze. "Yes, you're right."
"Great. Then put your name in the box and make it to the finals, I'm eager to face you. My name is Ion Therfin, and this is…" He laughed as he summoned his spirit.
"Edronh." From the mist emerged a lion with a crimson mane matted with blood, its head stripped of flesh, nothing but bone, with glowing red eyes burning within.
Simon swallowed hard, staring at the beast nuzzling against Ion. It was nearly their height and much larger.
That was no hatchling.
"Hey, kids! If you want an opening act, you don't need permission," Ivan said, summoning popcorn and soda. "Start whenever you like, I'm ready!"
"W-what!" Simon stammered, turning toward Ion, whose grin only widened.
"Even better!" Ion clenched his fists in excitement as the crowd began to back away.
…
Far from there, a young man was running with a pink fox perched on his head.
"Damn it! I'm going to be late!"