Harlington did not wait for Captain Korkel. Instead, Ronald arrived.

Despite having the advantage of a surprise attack, Ronald was still unable to take down Harlington in the end, thanks to the desperate cover provided by Harlington's subordinates.

Although Harlington escaped, he was severely injured. As Ronald watched him being supported away by the mages, blood kept flowing from his lower body.

It seemed that he had been grazed by Ronald's boulder artillery, but the exact location of the injury was unknown.

Having failed to eliminate his target in one strike, Ronald immediately left. He would not give the Tower Master of Morison Hall any chance.

After returning to his residence in the city, Harlington immediately called for a priest.

Under the radiance of the Holy Light, his damaged lower body slowly recovered. The old priest in white and gold robes examined him briefly, then nodded at Harlington's father to indicate he would be fine.

The butler offered a bag of coins to the old priest, who weighed it in his hand and nodded satisfingly before being escorted out of the bedroom by the butler.

Only Harlington and his father were left in the room. The old man, who had maintained a stern expression, did not reprimand Harlington. He only told him to rest well before leaving.

After the bedroom sank into silence, Harlington found himself unable to fall asleep no matter what.

Images of Ronald ruthlessly assassinating him and his own pathetic escape kept flashing through his mind.

"Damn inferior being, how dare you!"

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Just then, a maid brought his medicine in. Harlington got up and violently grabbed the maid by her hair, slamming her to the ground.

Still unsatisfied after knocking her down, he viciously kicked his personal maid several times.

Harlington's frail body, already hollowed out by drink, soon tired from the beating.

When Harlington stopped, the maid staggered to her feet, her eyes blank as she cleaned up the shattered porcelain on the floor.

Clearly, a maid who allowed herself to be punched and kicked could not provide Harlington with the gratifying sense of revenge he desired. Harlington felt he had to do something more.

He had intended to look for Anna, but then randomly recalled that his estranged elder brother had just married an actress from a second-rate theatre troupe, much to the mockery of their social circle.

As he dredged up information about the actress from his mind, Harlington's mouth slowly curled into a crooked smile.

*⁠*⁠*

The next day, rejecting the actress's suggestion to have breakfast together, Harlington quickly washed up and rushed to school after a simple meal.

Today was the day the trial results would be announced, as well as the day intermediate magic academies would recruit students.

Whether they would return home to inherit the family business or continue exploring the mysteries of magic, the apprentices' three years of hard work would culminate in the answers revealed today.

Harlington was ambitious. His goal was the Aireach Royal Academy of Magic, the best magic academy in the south. He had made full preparations to meet their enrollment standards. Whether it was the theoretical exam or the practical test, Harlington was fully confident.

Bathed in the awe-filled gazes of those around him, Harlington arrived at his classroom.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

As soon as he entered, friends who interacted with him to maintain appearances complained about how difficult the trials had been and how poorly they might have performed.

In response to his friends' complaints, Harlington voiced his agreement externally but was filled with disdain internally.

"A useless lower-class person who spends all day chasing after girls, forgetting who he is just because he has some talent. Chopping wood and digging rocks is what you ought to be doing. Learning magic, an extremely noble pursuit, is only for those of high birth.

"When I become the leader of the academy, I will be sure to expel every last one of these disgusting lower-class people!"

Harlington was roused from his grandiose fantasies by his classmates' exclamations. Following their gaze, he saw the name at the top of the scroll.

"Let us congratulate Apprentice Harlington. Thanks to his tireless efforts, he has achieved first place in this trial by a large margin," Instructor Marion said flatly. Harlington wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he felt Instructor Marion's mention of "tireless efforts" contained subtle disdain and mockery.

Harlington got what he wanted, so he magnanimously let it slide with Instructor Marion.

Surrounded by his classmates' flattery, Harlington walked out of the classroom, followed by over a dozen other top-scoring apprentices, including that lower-class friend who had complained about the difficult trial!

This cast a pall over Harlington's previously elated mood.

How could a useless lower-class person who thought of nothing but women pass the trial?

What right did he have to obtain the glory that Harlington had worked so bitterly to achieve?

When others could not see, Harlington's entire face twisted grotesquely like a demon's.

...

When the apprentices arrived at the recruitment site, the instructors from each academy had already prepared the theoretical exam papers.

Without any small talk, the instructors distributed the papers and the apprentices quietly commenced the written exam.

At first glance, groans immediately sounded from the apprentices in the classroom.

The theoretical exams at primary academies basically tested knowledge from magic books. If this had tested their textbook knowledge, every apprentice present would have been extremely confident...

The problem was, not a single question in the intermediate academy's exam paper covered memorizable points.

All the test topics involved innovations in magic.

The simpler questions were along the lines of "How can the power of fireball spells be enhanced without affecting casting speed?"

Such test points were still decent since clear goals were stated. For difficult questions, Harlington and his fellow second-generation mages couldn't even understand what the questions were asking!

For example, "Is mimicry magic viable? Please explain your viewpoint."

Very simple sentence, using words Harlington knew, yet completely incomprehensible when strung together. What was mimicry magic? He had never heard of this term before.

Most of the apprentices in the classroom were scratching their heads in confusion. Many of these apprentices had an obvious trait - they were lavishly dressed.

Meanwhile, the few who were actually writing were mostly plainly garbed. This included that useless lower-class person who only thought about women.

Harlington inadvertently glanced at his back bent over the table scribbling furiously, which filled him with even more jealousy and resentment.

How could a useless lower-class person perform better than him?

The overtly envious stare earned Harlington a warning from the proctor.

After the excruciatingly tormenting theoretical exam, the practical test soon followed.

This was Harlington's favorite part, and something at which he excelled.

With his formal-grade magic staff and the set of top-tier apprentice magic artifacts gifted by his sister-in-law the Tower Master, Harlington performed extremely brilliantly in the practical test.

No apprentice could withstand more than three moves against him. Even other well-trained second-generation mages could not hold out.

Activating the fixed runes in the top-tier artifacts, his opponents either exploded and collapsed or spewed blood as they were flung out of the arena.

Crushing his opponents restored Harlington's confidence. He began praising their fortitude and frequently smiled and waved at the spectators.

Harlington had expected to receive endless applause, but surprisingly, the reactions from both the watching apprentice families and the senior students who had come to recruit were extremely cold.

This bewildered Harlington greatly. Could it be that Harlington the Great's heroic bearing had left them awestruck and speechless?

The practical test proceeded steadily and monotonously.

Finally, the results were announced.

Due to the huge gap in his written exam scores, Harlington failed to pass the entrance exam for the Aireach Royal Academy of Magic.

This came as an unimaginable blow to Harlington.

He had already reserved the most expensive restaurant in Snowdrift City, ready to widely invite guests to celebrate as soon as the results were announced. Yet who could have expected he would be eliminated...

Harlington's face burned red. He felt everyone was looking at him with mocking smiles.

What angered Harlington the most were the condolences from the lower classes.

"Don't be discouraged, Harlington. One failure doesn't mean you'll always fail. I'm sure you can pick yourself back up!"

Harlington twisted his mouth into a smile and swiftly left the recruitment site.

He could not give up just like this. He still had a chance.

Unlike the lower classes, he still had a sister-in-law who was a Tower Master!