Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Class Assignment Test (5)
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A blizzard rages across the northern snowfields. Visibility drops to zero within that storm. Even taking a single step forward feels like you're getting nowhere. It doesn't even feel like you're walking. No, you start to wonder if you're even standing at all.
Inside that blizzard,
sensations twist and tangle,
vision shakes and blurs.
Rak, born and raised in the North, had experienced blizzards like this before. He had felt the utter powerlessness of a mere human before the might of nature.
"Hup... haa..."
And now,
Rak was feeling that powerlessness once again.
Rak strained his eyes. Veins bulged. But they wouldn't open wide. Through his narrowed slits, he could barely make out vague shapes.
His body wouldn't obey him.
"Thirty. Halfway there."
Rak looked toward Lania.
Even in this space that wrung every ounce of effort from his body, her voice never wavered. She sat leisurely on a rock amid the grass, counting off the numbers.
Gazing at her,
Rak recalled his father's teachings.
-Looks like you've been through a blizzard.
-Yes, Father. What did you feel?
Terror. And powerlessness.
-Right. Terror and powerlessness.
-So, what do you call someone who overcomes them?
A great warrior.
A true warrior of the North.
Grind.
Rak clenched his teeth and took a step forward. His bones creaked ominously, but he didn't stop.
"Forty."
One step.
"Fifty."
Another step.
With every step he took, time ticked by. And when Rak planted his third footfall,
"Sixty."
One minute—the promised time—was up.
That was his limit. Rak's legs, held firm by sheer willpower to endure the full minute, gave out.
Thud.
Rak collapsed face-first onto the ground.
Even as he fell, he reached out a hand. Pure tenacity.
Tap.
And that tenacity
reached Lania's feet.
"Hm."
Looking down at Rak's fingers brushing her toes,
she let a faint smile slip.
2.
'This kid... he's the real deal.'
I hoisted the collapsed Rak over my shoulder and carried him out beyond the boundary line. Then I laid him down and gently adjusted the knotted mana in his limbs.
Honestly, he exceeded expectations.
This was a domain stacked against Rak from the start.
'I was gonna pass him if he lasted even thirty seconds.'
But he held out double that—and even managed to move.
I had to admire that grit.
"Looks like you lost this one?"
I turned my head to look at Belnoa, still standing inside the boundary line. She was just folding down her fourth finger.
Shaman ritual: Offering.
I hadn't stopped her from using shamanism.
Part of the intent was to see just how far she could take it. That's why I'd set the time at a full minute—something she couldn't endure passively.
'She definitely has talent for shamanism.'
Even in this situation, she limited her offering to 'fingers.' No ordinary talent could pull that off.
"Come on out. Time's up."
"Gah... ack!"
I grabbed Belnoa by the scruff and dragged her out beyond the line.
"A promise... is a promise."
"I'll honor what I said. The offering doesn't count, and I'll report this as a draw."
"......"
That seemed to be her limit. Belnoa heard my words and collapsed straight into the grass. Watching her, I couldn't help but be impressed.
"Kids these days are something else."
What was I doing at that age? Eighteen... probably handling next Mage Tower Lord duties. Bullying the apprentices, beating results out of them...
'Right in their prime.'
And... if my memory serves,
it was right around then.
The moment I first stepped into this place, the Mana Spring.
-Can you withstand the Mana Spring?
-How do you endure mana in saturated saturation?
-Even Lord Raniel couldn't.
I'd heard rumors like that in the tower and challenged it half out of spite.
'And failed, of course?'
I think I crawled to the center by sheer force, vomited blood all over, and dragged myself out.
'I wonder if I could now.'
The thought crossed my mind.
After roaming battlefields and trying every damn thing, it didn't seem that tough.
'I used Balance right in front of the Demon King. What's not to handle?'
There was still plenty of time before the test ended anyway.
I crossed the boundary and ventured deeper into the forest. I was the only supervisor in the northern sector. No one to watch, so I walked freely.
The deeper I went, the thicker the mana grew.
Saturated mana sparked in the air.
How far had I gone?
A massive ancient tree came into view.
This was why it was called the Harmaine Forest.
Beneath the colossal tree gifted by an ancient dragon mage—named Harmaine—lay a pool of water as vast as its trunk.
'The Mana Spring.'
Pure, saturated mana.
What pooled there was less a spring and more a lump of mana itself, if you had to describe it.
I slipped off my shoes and dipped my feet in. Splash. The water rose to my ankles. Accounting for my changed body, I gauged the depth and waded in.
Water climbed to my calves.
Back then, this was my limit.
Cross this point, and breathing started to get labored.
'Go further, and blood vessels would burst.'
But not now.
I boldly advanced to the center. Water rose to my waist, lapping slightly at my lower abdomen. A few more steps.
The heart of the spring.
I stood right there.
Saturated mana permeated the air.
The risen water was saturated mana incarnate.
Saturated mana resonates with the mana in your body. Once it starts vibrating, it presses on your flesh. And it doesn't stop at mere pressure.
'Blood vessels constrict, heart squeezes, breaths come ragged. Disrupted mana arrays induce mental haze, even hallucinations.'
Eighteen years old.
'That's why no one could properly handle this Mana Spring. Too dangerous.'
Back then, standing here made me cough up blood.
How about now?
"Hm."
I looked at my raised arm.
Smooth. No bulging veins.
'Perfectly fine.'
It felt like nothing. Breathing steady, mana flowing undisturbed.
Thinking about it, it made sense.
'Seven or eight years have passed since then.'
Plus, five of those years were mostly on battlefields and in the demon realms. We raided deep into Demon King territory plenty of times.
The demon realms. If you pick one defining trait of that polluted land, it's demonic qi, hands down.
Demonic qi.
Polluted mana.
A deadly poison to mana-wielding mages.
Finding a spot untainted by demonic qi in the demon realms is harder than the reverse. Concentrations vary, but the places I explored were deep in the demonic domains, called demon realms proper.
Places where demonic qi overflowed into saturation.
Just standing there turned your blood black. Mana got polluted. First time I entered one, I couldn't even stand.
Of course, not everyone suffered from it.
Among my comrades, I was the only one vulnerable to demonic qi.
Sara's a Saintess.
Her mana itself carries divinity.
Complete immunity to demonic toxin's poison.
Remia's an elf.
Born and raised in the World Tree's forest, her mana array is rock-solid. Blessed by the World Tree, it doesn't yield to mere demonic qi.
Kyle's the Hero.
Chosen by the stars, his body laughs off demonic qi from the start.
And me.
I was just human.
A human good at magic, that's all.
Not without talent, mind you. I had plenty worth bragging about. Innate mana reserves were huge, and I had the gift to control it.
But no innate specialness.
I wasn't a Saintess, Hero, or blessed elf. Just a regular human—a mage who treated demonic qi like poison.
To keep adventuring, I had to find a way. No complaints about that, though.
'Mages always seek answers.'
That's what I'd learned.
That's the resolve I set out with.
Five years of it.
In those five years, my mana changed.
No, "changed" doesn't cover it.
I adapted my body to the environment.
Imprinted resistance to demonic qi into my mana. Built arrays unbreakable by it. Even made my mana purify demonic qi itself.
I scooped up the Mana Spring with my hand.
The droplets touched my skin without a fuss.
"......"
Standing at the center of the Mana Spring, I imagined it.
Me at eighteen and me now, side by side. Gauging the gulf between.
"Ah."
A laugh slipped out.
"Wasn't a waste after all."
3.
Western sector.
The class under exam: Summoner.
The western sector where the Summoners gathered was silent. No one fighting, no one preparing to fight. That wasn't a Summoner trait.
They just had no need to.
The test's winner was clear.
"......"
At the center of the clearing where the mana stone lay.
Even with the test's judging criterion—the mana stone—in plain view, no student approached it.
Its guardian was already there.
Resti, next Ashen Mage Tower Lord.
She held the mana stone in her hand. She neither moved with it nor tried to relocate.
She simply stood there.
What moved were the familiars surrounding her.
Ten familiars marched in perfect formation. Their precise, unwavering movements spoke to Resti's control.
Familiars are controlled by mana.
No tremor in their steps meant perfect command.
'Over ten of them, too.'
That sight made the other Summoners abandon the test. No way through that.
As a result, the western sector stayed quiet.
Confirming the last lingering rival had vanished, Resti closed her eyes.
But closing her eyes didn't mean carelessness. Quite the opposite—shutting them expanded her vision.
Shared sight.
Linked to the familiars circling overhead.
Resti looked down on the forest from the sky.
Some mages still eyed her warily, lingering with regret...
'Nothing to worry about.'
No real threats left.
Resti maneuvered her familiars.
The bird-like one soared higher. The broadened view soon reached the edge bordering the western sector.
While scanning the forest, Resti's gaze
lingered on the northern sector.
There was an open clearing there too. A mana stone sat at one side, in view. But no one touched it.
"...?"
Resti tilted her head in puzzlement—but only briefly.
The grass rustled, and someone walked into the clearing. Not a student.
Limp ash-gray hair.
From on high, but Resti recognized her instantly from that hair.
'Lania van Trias.'
The one she'd been watching.
But... her state seemed off.
"She's... wet?"
She looked soaked, like she'd been dunked.
She perched on a sunlit stump, wringing out the hem of her robe with a squeeze.
Resti cocked her head and lowered the familiar's altitude. As close to the northern forest as possible without crossing into the south.
Sodden, drooping hair.
Skin glistening with moisture.
The woman squeezing her wet robe.
Something was wrong.
Resti recalled those assigned to the north.
Rak and Belnoa. Disciples of the White and Black Tower Lords, so she remembered meeting them.
'...Do they use water magic?'
As far as Resti knew, neither Belnoa nor Rak dealt in water magic.
And the only water in this forest...
was the Mana Spring, right?
'...No way.'
A possibility flashed in Resti's mind. But she shook her head. Ridiculous.
"...Probably just some puddle under a tree stump."
Come to think of it, it had rained recently.
Resti dismissed the suspicion like that.