Unprecedented Praise and the Rivals' Burning Resolve
Normally, once the evaluation wrapped up, the professor would simply call the next group without fanfare. If students asked about their scores or sought feedback, they'd get a curt reply—something like, "It was fine." That phrase worked whether the performance was good or bad. In that sense, Professor Ray's lengthy praise was extraordinarily unusual.
"I was looking forward to seeing how you'd clash, Abel. And Seria. In that regard, this exam was truly impressive. The idea of suddenly switching offense and defense to force a mistake from your opponent—brilliant."
A few months back, Professor Ray had overseen their power measurement test. Back then, one was too weak, the other strong but lacking finesse. With the pair back on the testing platform, he couldn't help but wonder how they'd improved. From his perspective, both had exceeded expectations in the most delightful way.
For starters, Seria was no longer "weak." Not just the raw power of her ability, but her control had skyrocketed. Flame butterflies alone were astonishing, but deploying them in all directions for reconnaissance, then instantly reshaping them into armor? Unthinkable. Report-worthy for the ability research community. No pyrokinesis user had ever wielded it like that. It might even birth a new lineage. Chaos would ensue.
And Abel... that guy.
To be blunt, he still bulldozed through with overwhelming strength and physical prowess. But now, there was a softness absent from the power test—a flexibility that shone in crises. He never panicked, adapting seamlessly. Especially that ice sheet everyone saw as a mere nuisance; shattering it in one go and turning the shards into ranged projectiles? Masterful.
"Irshu and Tarshu did well too. The combo with Seria was striking. No one imagined fire and ice blending so seamlessly."
"Thank you."
"We're grateful."
"Ah, this matchup was so captivating, I got carried away. Since this is a practical exam, not a measurement, I can't give scores. But one thing's certain."
You four. You're in the running for first place, no question.
Abel thrust his fist skyward at those words. "Yes!" he bellowed, voice booming.
Irshu and Tarshu mirrored him instantly, without hesitation. Raising their left and right arms with a synchronized "Woo!" left only Seria.
Agh, no... The professor's right there!
Embarrassing. And first place wasn't even confirmed yet.
But it wasn't Abel or the ducal ladies who pulled her in.
"No need to hold back, Seria."
"P-Professor?!"
"Sometimes, you just need to savor the results purely. You've trained hard—and endured the mental strain. For once, drop everything and enjoy."
All those worries she'd harbored deep inside, even before enrolling at Continental Academy. Can someone like me really do this? Endless doubts and self-loathing chaining together. Then she met a truly good man and rose—but the secret fears lingered. Expectations piled higher. She pushed herself to meet them. What if the results fell short? Would her inner compass shatter? Would she lose these precious people she'd finally found?
But she'd done it. The professor had all but promised high marks. Above all, she felt it herself. This exchange was invaluable experience, pointing her path forward. A pivotal step on her journey to stardom.
"Eek."
Abel nearly face-planted forward. Behind him, Seria clung to his back.
"Haha! We did it! Finally, properly nailed it!"
Abel glanced back briefly, then let her stay, unbothered. He bent slightly to keep her secure, one arm still raised triumphantly.
"Why only Seria?"
"Do us too."
"Later, later."
Abel's group. Highest score so far.
Scores would be revealed later. Students didn't know the exact standings on the day. But did that mean they were clueless about the gaps? Not quite.
Exams were run by professors, after all. Their reactions gave clues. Disappointment for hyped students who underperformed. Excitement for unexpected leaps. Professors were human; controlling every micro-expression was tough.
"Ughhh. We're doomed."
"Low score?"
"Dunno yet... But you saw the prof's face after our group. Twisted. What else could it mean? We fell short of expectations."
"That bad?"
"We were told to flashy-boom and flop dramatically. Think we got caught."
"Miracle he didn't chew you out."
Yeah. Like that. Students had eyes; it wasn't hard.
So when Professor Ray emerged after grading Abel's group, those who'd tested or awaited their turn read his face and knew.
"Anyone catch Professor Ray's expression just now?"
"Beaming, right? Not seeing things?"
"That prof's infamous for showing scores on his face. Last power test, iffy results and he'd grimace like, 'Hmmm,' sighing."
Whether oblivious or deliberate, who knew. Maybe faking poor control to spur others.
One certainty: that face never lied.
"Previous group?"
"Abel and Seria. Plus Ladies Irshu and Tarshu."
"...New names, but outcome's obvious. Dead certain."
The whole academy knew. Abel axed that hellish written exam. He—and his crew—saved the freshman prom from descending into madness.
Heroes like that wouldn't flop in practicals. Probably dazzled Professor Ray.
"And the ladies—top-tier cryokinesis, from what I hear."
"Seria's the wildcard, though. Awakened, sure, but doesn't she lag behind Abel and the duchesses?"
A male student voiced his unfiltered take. Others nodded, about to chime in.
"Hey."
Until a flame-wreathed imp appeared behind him.
"Say that again. What'd you call Seria?"
"...Gah? F-Flam, sir?"
"Spit it out. What's wrong with Seria?"
Red hair, red eyes—like staring into roaring flames. Not just lineage; Flam ranked top among freshmen, no, the entire school by ability. His glaring intensity silenced the boy.
"I-I mean..."
"Don't care about personal opinions. But watch what slips out. It might crash over you like a tsunami someday."
Portus materialized opposite, his low growl chilling.
As the boy nodded frantically, Rel slipped in, shoulder-checking him. Deliberate, hostile.
"Enough, all of you. Prep for our exam."
Kalligo trailed, seemingly mediating. But his eyes held no warmth.
"...Talking out of their league."
"Pathetic. Obsessed with judging others, zero self-interest. Hilarious."
Entering the testing ground, Flam and Portus vented unmasked ire. Fury at Seria's critics—and those who'd sidelined their own lives to nitpick others.
"Professors might be provoking it on purpose. To stoke competition."
Rel soothed, though his face soured too. These four had always toed the line despite elite backgrounds. Why the sudden venom?
That slight? Nobodies critiquing Seria? Partly.
But the core reason? Curiosity about Seria's prowess. They'd gotten professor approval to watch from afar—four united.
Problem: They witnessed Abel and Seria in a perfect embrace.
Hoped otherwise, but Abel was the final hurdle. To challenge him, they had to top the other three first.
No one mandated it. They all just knew.
One-shot Rel. Nab top score.
Rel, sorry—you'll drown in my waves.
Exam be damned. Endure. Never fall.
Hate revealing my hidden hand... but no choice now.
Thus: Unleash peak power today. Prove I'm strongest of the four.
Their professor remained blissfully ignorant of this drama.
This psychological shift—separate from Seria's awakening—would trigger something inevitable.
A rampage. At least once.
That was the future unfolding moments away.