Mano finishes his speech and we move en masse toward the Caster Hall. In a rare moment, I can see the other three groups of this year’s initiates, each led by a young caster who I’m guessing are other assistant instructors. I give them a quick glance but they’re nothing special, the dozens of bodies making them a featureless crowd as we cram into the building.

Our group splits from the rest as Mano leads us into an empty classroom, directing us to sit at the long tables. A few moments later, an acolyte wearing a blue robe enters pushing a cart with what looks to be clay tablets stacked atop it. His eyes light with mana and the tablets slowly rise before flying through room to land before each initiate.

I grab the one that’s stopped near me, turning it over. On one side are fifty lines in ten rows of five. On the other is an enchantment that I vaguely recognize. After a moment, it comes to me. It’s the spell that I used in Summer Spire to measure my coefficient on a much smaller scale.

“For those who don’t recognize what you are holding, it is commonly called a mana reader. Unimaginative, yes, but very accurate. To use it, focus on the enchantment and channel your mana through it. The closer you get to empty, the more it will hurt. Do as much as you are able but remember, this is your best chance to impress the Hall. Your determination is also a part of that. Begin when you are ready.”

Many of the initiates jump right into the test and I’m right behind them. These people are devious. I know the effects of mana depletion firsthand. If the initiates push themselves to empty every drop into the mana readers, they’re going to have to deal with a bastard of a headache and some serious pain. I wonder how well they can focus on a written assessment after that. I wonder if knowing restraint is another part of the test?

Keeping that in mind, once I feel the first painful twinges in my chest, I stop channeling the spell. I turn the tablet over. As expected, the lines are glowing with my energy. Almost twenty-eight of them. A little less than 140.

Not bad…if you forget about Geneva. After my rebirth, I had a coefficient of 164. My contract with the succubus don took roughly 100 units of mana, leaving with about 60 units available. That leaves me with a rough growth of 80 units of mana and a total of around 264. Then again, I haven’t put all my mana into this test. Seeing as things tend to get painful once someone drops to around a quarter of their mana, I could squeeze out another 40 units, give or take.

Casters are roughly divided by their coefficients, starting with ‘basic’ casters with coefficients below 80 units up to master casters with a minimum of 500 units.

An adept, the minimum level to be an instructor at the Hall, requires a coefficient between 250 and 350. It’s nothing special. Adept is the level to be considered a competent caster, leaving skill out of the question of course. However, achieving that coefficient at my age? Ridiculous.

Too bad that since we’re pretending Geneva is a thrall, whose coefficients max out around 400 to 450 units, anyone looking at my evaluation will have me pegged as an advanced caster with a coefficient between 150 and 250. Not nearly as impressive, as some initiates come here with that level of mana.

I can see many others make the same choice of not pouring everything they have into the tablets, though plenty do. A young man catches my attention when his shaking arms drop his tablet and he falls forward, passing out. Oof. He’s going to have a rough time of it.

Alana is one of the sensible ones. With a faint grimace, she sets down the mana reader. She takes a few moments to catch her breath before turning to me. “Show you mine if you show me yours?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Sure.” We swap readers. On hers, just shy of forty lines are filled. 198 or 199, I’d guess. “How much did you come here with?”

“Around 160. Late start as I didn’t discover my light affinity until I was almost fourteen.”

“That is late.”

“Which makes it all the sadder that I’ve thrashed you. How much did you come here with?”

“64.”

She blinks. “That’s…incredible growth.”

“It is. And you’re forgetting I’m a summoner. We permanently sacrifice some our mana to bind our elementals to that realm.”

Her eyes widen. “So it’s really…”

“Add another forty to that. And that’s not including what we’re holding back because of the test.”

“Saints.”

“You want to praise me, don’t you? Feel free. I can take it.”

“You do a good enough job yourself.” We take back our own readers. “We’ll call this one a tie, then.”

“We weren’t competing on this.”

“I thought your wife taught you it’s always a competition.”

I scoff. “This is not her idea of a competition.” That usually involves blood.

As the others finish, Mano steps toward the first table, holding a clipboard. He steps up to the nearest initiate. They have a brief exchange and he writes something down before moving on. After a few minutes he reaches Alana.

“Hello. Full name please.”

“Alana James.”

He writes and I know it’s more than her name. My guess, he’s recording her state, noting that she isn’t passed out from overexerting herself. “Your coefficient upon entering the Hall?”

“160.”

“And may I see your reader?”

She hands it over. Mano glances at it and scribbles. “Excellent growth, Lady James. Although Mana Work will no longer be mandatory, I highly recommend continuing the exercises. While your gains will slow, there is still no better way to grow one’s pool. The road to becoming a master caster is a long one.”

“Ah, sure.”

He inclines his head before moving on to me. “Lou. I’m excited to see your progress.”

“Prepared to be amazed.”

“One moment.” He quickly writes his notes. “Coefficient before arrival?”

“64.” I hand over the reader before being prompted. He takes it, both brows rising. “That is…phenomenal. Though I expect—ah, wait a moment. You’re a summoner. With a contracted thrall, you should have gone beyond 150 and growing your pool would have become more difficult. I take it back. This is exceptional. I think you will impress a few instructors indeed. You seem to have a gift in channeling mana. I highly suggest you continue your exercises.” He’s smiling as he moves to the next initiate.

“Tie my ass,” I say quietly. “Exceptional beats excellent.”

“Good thing there’s wasn’t a bet on this test. And too bad all that mana doesn’t do a thing for your brain, degenerate.”

“We’ll see…”

Once Mano has finished noting the results from all the initiates, he collects the readers, stacking them back on top of the cart. “Good job, everyone,” he says, standing at the front. “You’ll be given ten minutes to rest. Then an instructor will be here to administer your written exam. Good luck. I hope to see you all as acolytes in the spring.”

The room lets out a chorus of flat farewells as he leaves the room with the cart.

“Double or nothing?”

“What were you thinking?”

“200 gold coins if you win. If I win…” I pause, holding back a laugh. “You have to act like an adoring wife. Act!” I say hurriedly into her scowl.

“You want me to call you hubby, Lou?”

“If that’s your thing.” The expected punch to my shoulder comes. “Hm. We’re going to have to try a few. Try darling.”

“Darling,” she says in the same tone someone might say ‘bastard’ or ‘horse shit’.

“That’s not it. How about…honey.”

“Honey.” Oh, not quite as demeaning. Sounds more like she’s saying ‘disgusting rat’ but it’s an improvement.

“Sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart.” Mm, nope. We’re going backward. That sounded like ‘pus-covered gutter trash’.

We go through a few more with varying success, none get the response I’m looking for. I’m running out of ideas when I say “Stud.” I raise a brow as that gets a reaction. Not a good one of course. No, I get the nastiest scowl yet.

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s the one.”

“I hate you so very, very much,” she sighs. “Honey or hubby, pick.”

“Which one makes you more uncomfortable?”

She gives me a look that says she’s deeply considering running me through with her sword.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so upset since you’re not going to lose.” I wink at her. “Hubby then.”

“Only because I’m not going to lose,” she says holding out a hand. Once again, we shake on our agreement and relax while waiting for the instructor to come.