"I hope I get to meet Rylan before the entrance exam," Ethan muttered, his focus on the final adjustments to his gear as he readied himself for the selection.
Over the past week, his days had been devoted to practicing the sword under the guidance of Instructor Brondor. The teachings revolved around a fundamental sword stance—a simple yet precise straight slash and a position for holding the sword defensively.
However, no matter what he did, he struggled during the training, magnified by his lack of basics, stamina, and various aspects of combat. The primary problem that constantly lingered was time, leaving him with scarce opportunities for practice. He spent the entire week repeating the same sword stance and with no prior combat exposure and his hands unfamiliar with the weight of a sword, each practice session demanded a fierce struggle.
During these training periods, he dedicated his spare time to experiment with a basic fire spell which might come in handy during selections. But every attempt faltered as he reached the brink of the third circle, his concentration slipping at the end moment resulting in a spell to dispel.
Despite his efforts, the outcome remained constant—a dispelled spell. He had once believed that his awakening might unveil hidden talents, reminiscing about the encounter with a Mana Being during the awakening ceremony. Yet, reality defied his expectations. Not only had no new abilities surfaced, but his mana reservoir remained as ordinary as normal people
With his preparations complete, Ethan made his way to the entrance of the Inn. His father stood there, patiently waiting, aware that it was time for them to head on their own journey.
"Dad, let's go," Ethan said, securing the sword his father had given him.
"Sure," Aldric responded, offering advice with a touch of concern. "Just remember, don't overexert yourself during the selections."
"Of course, Dad" Ethan agreed.
They initiated their journey by heading towards the nearest headquarters from the inn where they were lodged. Upon arrival, Aldric noticed that the pre-booked cart awaited them outside the headquarters. Aldric bid farewell to Ethan after confirming his path to the academy. With that, he turned his steps towards the headquarters, preparing for his own trials.
As Ethan's cart rolled onward toward the Magic Academy, a mix of excitement and nervousness welled up within him. The prospect of participating in the selection trials brought anticipation, tinged with a hint of anxiety. Success in these trials would pave the way for his enrollment in the academy, a dream he had eagerly awaited.
As they drew nearer to the academy, Ethan's excitement intensified. His thoughts converged on the much-anticipated reunion with Rylan, his friend who had departed from the village a year prior, right after his awakening. Recent news had reached Ethan, confirming that Rylan had earned a coveted spot at the Magic Academy.
"Finally made it to the Academy," Ethan exclaimed with a rush of excitement, his voice carrying a vibrant tone as the cart stood before the entrance gate. Carefully descending from the cart, he absorbed the bustling scene that unfolded before him. The air was charged with the lively energy of students on the move, their anticipation filling the atmosphere as they streamed toward the heart of the academy. Everywhere his gaze wandered, groups of students were gathering, their chatter and laughter forming a symphony of bustling activity within the entrance vicinity.
Walking towards the entrance, Ethan glanced around, searching for familiar faces inside. He noticed some students looking out of the windows, their curiosity piqued by the commotion outside caused by the hordes and hordes of students who had appeared for selections.
"Head directly to the marked areas along the route," one of the guards shouted at the crowded students, as he directed the students. The weight of his words ensured that the crowd didn't stall at the entrance, preventing any congestion that could disrupt the flow for others.
"Here goes my chance to meet Rylan" Ethan sighed, his breath carrying a tinge of sadness.
Following the directions, he moved through the flow of students toward the entrance exam location. He had expected that upon entering the academy, he would get some spare time to prepare and he deduced that this was the right chance—his window to meet Rylan after a year of separation. However, before he could make his way inside, the momentum shifted abruptly as they were swiftly redirected in another direction, leading them toward the selection grounds.
As he walked amidst the sea of students, his attention was drawn toward the majestic campus. His gaze lingered on the towering structure of the Magic Academy, a sight that dwarfed any previous experience. The grandeur of this establishment surpassed that of modern colleges. While it appeared relatively small from a distance, its scale gradually unfolded as he drew closer. An enchanting illusion seemed to veil it, imparting an optical trickery that played with his perception. The closer he stepped, the more the building expanded, revealing its true enormity.
The reality seemed to be cloaked by intricate magic formations—subtle enchantments that skewed his sense of scale. While he moved towards the training grounds from the right side, beholding what seemed like a modest structure, he couldn't shake the certainty that it was an illusion. The stories he had heard echoed in his mind—tales of the vast expanse that the Academy's campus encompassed.
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As he arrived at the assigned spot on campus, he found the entire area swarming with fellow students who had gathered for the entrance selection. It seemed like an influx of students, perhaps even thousands if he were to hazard a guess—though it could very well be more.
Being a prestigious magic academy, reputation alone wouldn't guarantee entry. As far as Ethan understood, every student, regardless of their background, had to undergo trials before being accepted. These trials were open to students aged twelve or those who had previously missed the entrance, as well as those attempting the exams once more. The candidates hailed from every corner of the country.
Failure in the selections allowed for another attempt the following year. However, this placed the newly awakened in a significant dilemma, creating uneven competition. Yet, that was the essence of the selection process—to strive to one's utmost limits for the coveted spot within the Academy. In this throng of thousands of students, only a mere two hundred or so would emerge as the selected few by the end of the rigorous selection process. The culmination would herald the recognition of the top ten from each batch.
Sorry
Sorry
Ethan threaded his way through the dense gathering of individuals, his apologies offered in passing as he navigated toward the front. From his vantage point towards the back, he glimpsed the stage that had been prepared. Currently unoccupied, it awaited the commencement of the event. Adjacent to the stage, a massive screen stood, adding an imposing presence to the scene. As Ethan pressed on through the densely packed crowd, his determination remained unshaken.
Sorry
Sorry
As he moved forward cutting through the crowds, he accidentally collided with a robust figure.
Bam
"I'm really sorry," Ethan quickly offered as he registered the person standing before him. The man was imposing, both tall and portly, appearing older than his years. He wore a dark red and white outfit, his chubby hands clenched in irritation, his face twisted in anger.
Ki Ki Ki Ki
"This fucking kid is dead now" came mocking laughter from the two towering individuals flanking the stout man. They were as slender as reeds, their forms mirroring each other so closely that they could have been twins. Their shared front tooth jutted out as they sneered, "Teach him a lesson, Billy."
The atmosphere thickened with hostility as the command was issued, their words dripping with venomous intent. The anger in their voices resonated, and a charged tension hung in the air.
"You fucker, watch where you're going!" the stout man barked, his meaty hand clamping down on Ethan's shirt collar. Simultaneously, he delivered a swift, forceful kick to Ethan's stomach. Amid the sea of bodies, Ethan's abrupt movement had caught the man off guard, igniting his fury.
Aarghhhh!
Ethan's cry resonated through the air, the pain surging through his body as he instinctively doubled over. Blood mingled with his saliva, ejected from his mouth by the sudden impact. The commotion didn't go unnoticed; curious gazes swiveled to the scene, casting a spotlight on Ethan's distress.
Struggling to regain his breath, Ethan's voice quivered with a mixture of pain and anger as he retorted, "I said sorry! Why the hell did you kick me, you bastard?" The words laced with righteous indignation, he refused to let the unjust assault pass without vocal confrontation.
"What did you say, you bastard? You're dead meat now!" The stout man's voice seethed with rage, his threat punctuated by his aggressive advance toward Ethan. He aimed to close the distance, to physically impose his anger.
However, his momentum was abruptly halted. Just as he was about to surge forward, a booming voice shattered the charged atmosphere. The sound reverberated, commanding everyone's attention. The crowd surrounding Ethan instinctively turned their heads, their focus drawn to the direction of the source—the massive screen where the unexpected interruption had originated.
The gathering of onlookers had engulfed Ethan, forming a human barrier that pushed the bully back. Frustration painted the bully's features as he unleashed his anger, his words spat out in a heated proclamation, "If our paths cross again, you're as good as dead!" Yet, his threat was eclipsed by the clamor emanating from the students who had diverted their attention toward the stage.
Ethan's body trembled, the force of the recent kick still reverberating through him. The impact had been overwhelming, leaving him in a state of shock. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, still feeling the sting. Determined to distance himself from the agitator, he maneuvered his way through the throngs of students, each step carrying him further from the confrontation.
Having retreated to a safer distance, Ethan's instinct was to avoid trouble before the selections took over. The kick's impact had served as a harsh reminder of his vulnerability and powerlessness. A sense of anxiety surged within him, accentuated by the glaring disparity in strength among those gathered for the selections.
As his ears tuned into the source of the commanding voice, Ethan's gaze settled on the stage. Though he was positioned too far away to discern the man's facial features, the vibrant white attire he wore stood out. The fabric cascaded in a cloak-like fashion, adorned with an air of authority. Gloves clung to his hands, lending an enigmatic touch. Despite the distance, Ethan could make out the man's fair complexion, a mere glimpse of the figure presiding over the proceedings.
"Hello everyone," the man in the vibrant white cloak and attire began, his voice carrying a tone of authority and anticipation. "Welcome to the 'Academy of the Arcane Magic'," his words resonated with a sense of grandeur. "Today marks a pivotal moment in your journey, as you stand on the threshold of your aspirations. A sea of potential, each of you brings a unique set of skills and dreams to our hallowed grounds."
"As I stand before you, I am Professor Aelius, and it's my privilege to oversee these selection trials," he continued, his gaze sweeping across the vast assembly of students, encompassing the multitude of eager faces. "In this grand arena of possibilities, ten thousand among you have embraced the challenge that awaits," his voice carrying a mixture of pride and expectation, "Let us start the selection process".
As he concluded his introduction, a swift gesture accompanied by a clap of his hands caused a collective gasp among the thousands of students. Suddenly, before their eyes, a small piece of paper materialized in front of each of them. Ink outlined on the paper's surface. In a mesmerizing display, the papers vanished just as quickly as the paper had appeared, attaching itself seamlessly onto the palms of the students' hands, leaving no trace behind.