I write to provide an update on the current status of our operations in the ongoing conflict between our kingdom and Ragnarok. Since our last correspondence, our forces have engaged in numerous skirmishes along the border, successfully repelling several incursions from enemy troops. Our soldiers have demonstrated unwavering courage and resilience in the face of adversity, and I am proud to report that morale remains high among our ranks.
However, it is important to note that the enemy shows no signs of relenting in their aggression. They have bolstered their defenses and launched several counteroffensives in an attempt to regain lost ground. In light of these developments, I recommend that we consider reinforcing our positions along the western flank, where enemy activity has been particularly concentrated.
I eagerly await your instructions and remain at your service.
Yours faithfully,
Lieutenant Colonel Farik Hale. (Plato)
Sunstone Kingdom, Year 2275.
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…You may begin.“
Aodhán flipped the question papers immediately and scanned through the questions. There were a total of 100 questions, all objectives, but contrary to what he’d expected, only a quarter of them were dedicated to magic and awakening.
The hundred questions were divided into four, and aside from the quarter on magic, the others were dedicated to three mundane subjects: arithmetic, Lutian history, and psychology.
Aodhán tackled arithmetic first; he’d always preferred it to most other subjects, even back at the monastery. He smiled as thoughts of the orphanage came to mind, but he soon pushed them away to focus on the current trial.
The questions were quite simple: basic algebra, quadratics, geometry, and some confusing word problems. He tackled each question meticulously, trying to avoid what many fell prey to: overconfidence.
Still, he finished the arithmetic questions in a little less than twenty minutes and moved on to Lutian history. Here he encountered some problems, and although he’d read a lot of the lore books in Mrs. Alderman’s library, he hadn’t read them all.
There was a question about the identity of Raol’s greatest nemesis, and since he had absolutely no idea who it was, he decided to go with the Sunstonian’s first ascendant, Aeloria, the goddess of the blazing sun.
Now that he thought about it, that was probably the basis and reason for the war between both kingdoms, but if that were true, then it was a very foolish reason to fight a war. Aodhán had thought about it during his time in the Warren, and he’d concluded that he didn’t hate wars, not really.
War wasn’t always a terrible thing, especially when people were fighting for their freedom or to overcome oppression, but a war of pride, religion, and greed? those he hated, and this war definitely felt like one of those.
He shaded the option and quickly moved on to the next question, which brought him to another halt. It was a simple question; he just hadn’t expected to see it here, and as he read the question again, a slight tingle ran through his mind.
What Sunstonian sector did the great catastrophe, Az’marthon Ranok, enact his vengeance on during the last days before his ascension?
Aodhán’s mind flashed back to the first vision he’d had during his awakening: the calamity that had befallen thousands of innocents, the destruction of an entire sector, and lastly, the central tower with the number 7 boldly written on it.
It didn’t take long for Aodhán to make the connection, but a word in the question stood out to him. Az had told him that he’d only been following orders, but the question described his actions as an act of vengeance. Who was lying, Az or the kingdom?
A small ding sounded from the stage, reminding them that they only had half an hour left, so Aodhán pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on the examination.
“It doesn’t matter.” He thought to himself. He couldn’t do anything about it, so there was no reason to dwell on it either.
He rushed through the rest of the questions and moved on to the third quarter of the exam, which was psychology. After reading the first question, he concluded that he probably wouldn’t be scoring an A on the paper.
Define the concept of classical conditioning and provide an example of how it could be applied to behavior modification in awakened creatures.
Also, he’d assumed that all of the questions were multiple-choice, but this one and a few others obviously weren’t. He hadn’t studied psychology in the monastery, nor had he read anything on the subject since he’d arrived in ÆFLYM, so he was probably going to tank this one.
He skipped the open-ended questions and answered the multiple-choice questions as best he could before finally moving on to the last quarter of the examination. This part of the examination turned out to be the most simple, as the questions asked were very basic. Besides, almost all that Aodhán had read in the Alderman’s library was about magic, so he found himself breezing through the entire segment.
By the time he was shading the option for the last question, more than half of the aspirants had already submitted, including Daruk, and had left the hall.
Aodhán scanned through his answers for a moment before submitting, and a professor gestured for him to leave the hall through the door the students had previously used.
When Aodhán stepped out of the hall, he found himself in a waiting room large enough to contain all 200 aspirants. There were rows and rows of seats, and Aodhán scanned them to find Daruk vigorously waving to catch his attention, and Aodhán moved towards him.
As he moved to the last row, someone called out his name, and he turned to see Ahmet waving to him from amidst a group of nobles. The nobles stared at Aodhán with expressions ranging from indifference to disdain, and one of them pushed Ahmet’s hands down and hissed. “Are you trying to embarrass me by inviting a commoner to sit with us?”
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Aodhán stared at the noble and concluded that he must be Eren Thornhill, the son of the local baron in sector 8. With a sigh, he continued onward and slid into the seat Daruk had saved for him.
“That must be Ahmet.” Daruk assumed, and Aodhán hummed in response.
“And I’m guessing the noble ass—what curse can I use that is suitable for polite company?”
“He’s a dick. Simple and short.” Aodhán replied with a slight grin. “And yes, I think he’s Eren Thornhill.”
“Interesting; he was one of the first few to finish.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh, okay. How was the exam then?”
Aodhán shrugged. “Not too bad, I think. The segments on psychology and history were very confusing, but I enjoyed the others. How was yours?”
Daruk smiled innocently, and Aodhán scoffed. “Why did I even ask?”
“Because it’s polite.” Daruk replied with a cheeky grin and continued. “Also, the questions could have been terribly hard for me.”
“Daruk, we both know that this exam was a walk in the park for you.”
“It was more of a crawl, but I understand what you mean.”
Aodhán chuckled, and they settled in to wait as people trickled into the hall, some with an excited expression while others looked extremely heartbroken. A particular girl looked like she was only holding herself together by sheer force of will, and Daruk muttered in sympathy. “Poor girl, she looks like she’s about to burst into tears; the exam must have been pretty hard for her.”
Aodhán sighed, and ten minutes later, when the last person walked into the hall, the principal and the chubby portal professor appeared before them.
“Now for the last part of the trial, Professor Danbury will open a portal that’ll lead you to the academy’s rift station, where you’ll be granted access to an evolved rift. This rift contains rugworts between the 10th and 18th tiers, and you’re required to bring back the horns of five of these creatures to pass the trial.”
She paused, waiting for someone to ask a question, but when no one did, she continued. “You’re allowed to go in groups, but there can only be a maximum of 3 people in a group, and you’re also allowed to keep the cores. Please note that regardless of how well you performed in the examination, only the first 100 aspirants to make it back with five rugwort horns will be accepted into the academy, while their exam scores will be converted into forge points.”
“What are forge points?” Daruk quietly asked, and Aodhán shrugged in reply. Almost as if she’d heard his question, the principal turned to him and replied. “The forge points will be explained to you if you make it through the trial.”
Daruk swallowed slowly and whispered. “I can’t believe she heard me.”
“I can’t believe you’re still talking.” Aodhán replied as Professor Danbury waved his right hand, and a shiny coin-sized device appeared in their hands.
“That is a rift ejector.” He explained. “Once you’ve gathered all five horns, click the ejector, and you’ll be instantly teleported out of the rift.”
“What if it doesn’t work? Will we be stuck in the rifts forever?” A blond boy asked, and although he gave off no aura, Aodhán immediately identified him as a noble as his core sense picked up the unique flavor of a bloodline.
He couldn’t really determine what bloodline the boy had exactly, but he could sense that it was strong, much stronger than Daruk's, which meant he was probably very high on the noble chain.
“The ejectors will work.” Professor Danbury replied. “But if, for some reason, they malfunction, then one of the professors will come to retrieve you. You have no reason to fear.”
An instant later, another portal appeared before them, and the Aodhán hesitantly walked towards it as if expecting something to go wrong, but nothing did, and a moment later, Aodhán and Daruk stepped out of the swirling portal and appeared at the center of a large room filled with the other aspirants and a group of professors.
A circular formation covered the entire floor, intricate and complex in its design, but as interesting as it was, it couldn’t compare to the human-sized rift standing before them. The rift was a tear in the fabric of space. It was like an open wound surrounded by spatial and planar energies.
A muddy brown ring of energy swirled around it, identifying it as an evolved rift. Some people believed that rifts occurred naturally and could evolve after accumulating enough energy to advance all the creatures within them, while a smaller number of people believed that rifts were actually dungeons which had evolved over time.
Aodhán didn’t care about how rifts came into existence; he was more concerned with the stability of this particular rift. What if it collapsed with them still inside it? Would that mean death or some sort of displacement to an alternate plane?
He carefully observed the artificial rift standing before them; it had been created by the joint experimentation of several spatial, cosmic, and planer awakeneds currently within the school and was still one of their greatest inventions so far.
A new branch of magic had opened up after the successful formation of a dozen artificial rifts, and two months ago, the department of aperology had been added to the academy.
Unlike natural rifts, which were mostly unstable, this one seemed steady, almost still, and it only rippled when a professor placed a hand into its entrance.
“It is time.” Professor Aleran announced this as the last person stepped out of the portal and into the rift station. The aspirants began shuffling and arranging themselves into groups, unwilling to enter the rift alone, but a few stood still, either too shy or proud to join up with the others.
“No matter what happens in there, make sure you do not lose the ejector, as you cannot instantly exit the rift without it, and finding the natural exit of a rift this size will take you hours, if not days.”
Aodhán immediately placed the ejector in his spatial pocket and held hands with Daruk as they approached the rift.
The first set of aspirants to enter the rift were the trio of Calodans, surprisingly, followed by Eren Thornhill and his clique. When their turn finally came, Aodhán exchanged a glance with Daruk before taking a deep breath, and a moment later, they stepped into the rift.
…….
In the rift station viewing room.
Principal Zatya Malakov, along with some of the academy's most prominent professors, stood before a large screen that displayed various groups as they made their way through the rift. The principal watched them all, simultaneously observing each student as she caressed the fluffy tail of her familiar, lovingly wrapped around her neck.
“What do you think, Danbury?” She asked a moment later. “Have you found any promising students for your department this year?
The chubby professor cleared his throat lightly before pointing to a section at the left of the screen that showed a boy with purplish-pink hair and a fierce expression. “I have found a few, but this one seems to be the most promising.”
“Ah, Cyrus Valerion. How’s his father doing these days?”
“I think he’s sent more than a dozen letters requesting to see you.” Professor Aleran muttered, but Zatya ignored him and turned to another professor.
“What about you, Jorendil? Have you picked up any particularly impressive bloodlines?”
“Yes, in fact, the number of bloodlines above the uncommon quality is quite astounding. The high nobles from Calodan even seem to bear bloodlines of epic quality.”
“Nothing above epic quality?” A gruff-looking professor asked, and Jorendil shook his head in disappointment.
“Unfortunately, this year’s aspirants are much weaker than those of last year, and I imagine only a few of them might be able to refine their bloodlines as a result of the immense cost in willpower.”
“Well, do they have anything special?” Zatya asked impatiently. “You know, something they can be known for?”
“We have nothing yet, aside from the fact that some of them show an astounding amount of control, like this one.” Professor Aleran replied, pointing to a screen displaying two boys, one with an ice element and the other with storm.
“Hmm, quite the rare affinity.” Zatya muttered as she stared closely at the dark-skinned boy. There was something about him that called to her, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Asides the rarity of his affinity, what else do you notice?” Professor Aleran pressed, and Zatya peered closer. She observed the boy for a moment before she smiled. "Ahh, is that core sense? This little one must have endured a tribulation; we must keep an eye on him.”
Professor Aleran nodded in agreement, but before he could speak, a deep voice rang out.
“They aren’t weak; they’re just young, which makes it easier for us to mold them into champions for our kingdom.”
The words hung heavily in the air, and a moment later, a man appeared within the room. Immediately he did, and the professors and the principal all bowed in greeting. The man was dressed in extravagant regalia made entirely of golden light, and an immense pressure emanated from his core, which blazed as bright as the sun and felt as bottomless as the ocean.
His runic pupils shone with a golden hue that held so much beauty and power that they were incomprehensible, and with shaky breaths, Zatya said to him, “Welcome ascendant candidate Lightus; how may we be of service?”