Rank Written Exam Result Practical Test Result 1 Lucifer Leorin Eldritch 2 Erich Hofer Adeen Arnoult 3 Leorin Eldritch Karl Willems ..... . . 1580 Asher Bamford . .... . . 2989 . Lucifer

"What the fuck?"

A suspicious-looking man in a mask gently covered Prince Leorin’s mouth. "Your Highness, such foul words are unbecoming… though intriguing."

Leorin shot a look of utter disgust at Mr Parker, his ever-loyal attendant, who clung to him like a devoted girlfriend.

He swiftly removed the hand and barked, "How is this possible?"

Mr Parker bowed with a 90-degree angle and slowly started to speak, "Oh, thy great highness, in mine own understanding, I know not why thee art ranked third in the written exam; no one but I am to blame—" (Spoken in Elizabethan Language)

“Shut up,” Leorin snapped. “How can someone top the written and fail the practical? How is this possible?”

“Oh thy—”

"Can you please speak like you usually do?"

“Ahem,” Mr. Parker cleared his throat, leaning in closer as if about to reveal the most scandalous secret. “Prince, you won’t believe it, but what I’ve gathered from the other professors is that the kid—has golden eyes, yet he can’t perform a single spell!”

“Golden eyes and no magic?!” Leorin nearly choked on his own shock. He paused, “Who in the world is this boy?”

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1 day ago

The room was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to let go.

"Roll Number 666? what did you say?" A voice rang through the vast room.

"I.." It was as if his voice was caught in his throat. "I can't, I can't sense my mana..."

Lucifer stood in the centre, surrounded by stone walls, by the unspoken tension that filled the space.

But there was no fight left in him. Not now. Not before the scrutinizing eyes before him.

He had entered this chamber, a place he had never seen before but had always feared: the Nightfall Keep tower's inner sanctum, a place for demonstration of the magical prowess of the candidates.

Tower Master Jacob Noctifer (Refer to chapter 14 for information on Jacob) was there, his expression as stern as ever, but there was something else in his eyes—a coldness, or perhaps curiosity as he stroked his beard.

Next to him, was Ava, a stunning woman whose beauty seemed almost otherworldly. Her allure so potent, that even the coldest of stones might crack under its spell.

A dwarf named Haris Aetos sat next to her left, deceptively youthful in appearance but bearing the wisdom of someone in his mid-thirties. The dwarf even though composed, was drumming his fingers against the armrest of his chair in a rhythm that matched Lucifer's racing heart.

And then there was the guy Lucifer had initially pegged as either a sketchy vendor or, let’s be honest, a thief who’d handed over the ring just to dodge suspicion— Cyfrin Walker, a professor at Nightfall Keep. A smile, wide and unsettling, stretched across his face as if he found some twisted amusement in Lucifer's predicament. Lucifer, in a moment of sheer optimism (or perhaps sheer lunacy), had hoped this man might offer some explanation or guidance.

But to his dismay, there was nothing—only the silent judgment of the room.

Lucifer’s heart pounded in his chest, a relentless, desperate beat that echoed in his ears. He had tried to prepare himself for this moment, had run through every possible scenario in his mind, but now that he was here, standing in the eye of the storm, all that preparation seemed worthless.

"Lucifer," Tower Master Jacob's voice was low, steady, but it carried the weight of a hundred lifetimes. "Do you understand why you are here?"

He nodded, though his throat was too dry to speak. He knew why he was here. He knew what they were going to say. But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

"You were born with golden eyes," Jacob continued each word measured, deliberate. "A rare gift, one that should have marked you as a prodigy, a leader among our people. Yet, despite this, you have shown no ability to sense mana, let alone wield it."

The words cut deep, sharper than any blade. Lucifer had heard them before, whispered behind his back, and murmured in the hallways. But here, spoken by the Tower Master himself, they took on a new weight, a finality that left him breathless.

"In the Mantric Kingdom," Jacob went on, "mana is life. It is our power, our strength, the very essence of who we are. Without it, you are..."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

Without mana, he was nothing.

A shell.

A failure.

Lucifer clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He had spent his entire life trying to find a way, trying to prove that he was more than just a golden-eyed anomaly. But every attempt had failed, every hope dashed by the cold, unyielding reality that he was powerless in a world where power was everything.

Was it his fault that he could not sense mana? Why did he even have those eyes in the first place? In this world, golden eyes but no magic was as good as to be considered as a brain-dead man.

The woman spoke next, her voice as sharp as her gaze. "You may not know, your lack of power, your existence itself, can be a threat to our society. A Mantric who cannot wield mana is a contradiction, an anomaly that cannot be allowed to persist."

Lucifer swallowed hard, his mouth dry as sandpaper. He did not know. Of course, how would he? He was just an ordinary village boy to parents who weren’t even native to this kingdom.

They saw him as a threat, a danger to the order they had spent centuries building. He was an outlier, an aberration, and they would not tolerate his existence for much longer.

As the cold tension in the room continued to grow, the silence was abruptly broken.

"Interesting..." Cyfrin murmured. His voice, low and contemplative, seemed to reverberate through the chamber. The two other professors, with judgmental expressions, shot him a look of shock. Even Tower Master Jacob, ever composed, gave away a hint of surprise as one of his eyebrows twitched slightly.

Cyfrin leaned forward, bringing his hands together and resting his chin on them. Something was unsettling in his gaze, a mix of curiosity and something else, something that no one in the room could quite place.

“Lucifer…” he began, pausing deliberately, “you ranked first in the written exam with full marks at that.”

The revelation was like a thunderclap.

The other professors gasped, unable to mask their astonishment.

Cyfrin was no ordinary scholar—he was the kingdom’s foremost expert in mana theory, a prodigy whose groundbreaking ideas had shaken the very foundations of magical understanding. Known as “The Man Who Knows It All,” his theories had redefined the study of mana, and he was notorious for rarely finding anything worthy of his interest, let alone bestowing full marks. Despite his youth, being only in his late twenties, his understanding of mana was unparalleled. Yet, his face remained a mystery to many, shrouded in anonymity by his desire to roam freely without the shackles of fame or obligation.

Ava, the stunning woman with the piercing gaze, scoffed, "Whatever. Even if he’s good with theories, what’s the use if he can’t wield magic? This has never happened in thousands of years. A Mantric with golden eyes who can’t perform even the simplest spell—it's unheard of."

Cyfrin smirked, an amused glint in his eyes. "That's exactly what makes him more interesting."

Lucifer, who stood at the centre of the heated discussion thought to himself, Interesting? How could his failure, his inability to sense mana, be considered interesting? He was a disgrace, an outlier in a society that valued magical prowess above all else. Yet here was Cyfrin, a man of unparalleled intellect, speaking as if Lucifer were some sort of an enigma to be unravelled.

But Cyfrin’s gaze remained fixed on him as if he were trying to peer into his very soul. "Tell me, Lucifer," he began, his voice almost gentle now, "how did you manage to rank first in the written exam? Your understanding of mana theory is exceptional, yet you can’t sense or use mana. How is that possible?"

Lucifer swallowed, the dryness in his throat making it difficult to speak. "I... I studied," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "I read every book, every scroll I could find. I memorized everything. I thought... I thought if I could at least understand mana, maybe I could find a way to... to use it."

Cyfrin nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Lucifer’s. "Fascinating. You’ve mastered the theoretical aspects of mana, something even seasoned Mantrics struggle with, yet you cannot wield it. There’s something to be said about a mind like yours, one that can grasp the essence of mana without the ability to perceive it."

Ava crossed her arms, her scepticism unshaken. "So what? Theory without practice is useless. He can’t perform magic, and in our kingdom, that’s all that matters."

"Perhaps," Cyfrin conceded, though the smirk never left his face. "But what if there’s more to mana than we understand? What if Lucifer’s condition is not a failure, but an opportunity to learn something new? To discover something we’ve overlooked?"

The dwarf, Haris, finally spoke, his gruff voice tinged with curiosity and suspicion. “You think there’s a deeper reason for this? For a boy who can’t sense mana to understand it better than most?”

Cyfrin leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "I do. And I believe that if we dismiss Lucifer because he doesn’t fit our expectations, we might be throwing away the chance to uncover something truly revolutionary."

But before anyone could respond, Jacob Noctifer who had remained silent until now, extended his hand. And as he did, the air around his fingers began to shimmer.

A dark aura, as black as the deepest night yet glittering like stardust, started to swirl. The mana responded to his will, coiling and twisting with a grace that belied its power. Slowly, deliberately, Jacob directed the swirling energy towards Lucifer, who stood frozen in the centre of the room, his heart pounding.

The black aura enveloped Lucifer, spiralling around him like a living thing. The room seemed to hold its breath, the very air thick with anticipation. Everyone's eyes were locked on the scene unfolding before them, their expressions a mix of awe and fear. But then, something strange happened—an area just above Lucifer remained untouched by the swirling mana, a void in the otherwise perfect flow of energy. It was as if the mana recoiled from that spot, refusing to touch it.

Gasps filled the room, each one a note in a chorus of shock. The void was not just an absence; it was a presence—a presence that clung to Lucifer like a shadow, unseen but undeniably there.

Jacob's eyes widened, a flicker of realization crossing his stern features. "I knew it!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of triumph and alarm as if a puzzle piece had finally fallen into place.

“W-what?” Haris, the dwarf, stammered, his usual composure shattered by the sight before him. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the armrests of his chair, his mind racing to comprehend what he was seeing. "He already has a shadow?"

"Huh?" Lucifer gasped, his mouth agape.

Cyfrin’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement and something far more dangerous. “A shadow…” he repeated the word, almost to himself, as if savouring it. His gaze, however, wasn’t fixed on Lucifer, but on the small intricately designed ring, faintly glowing with a dark aura, on Lucifer's finger.

As the moment of shock subsided, murmurs and uneasy glances filled the room, but it was Cyfrin’s unreadable expression that stood out the most.

"You....What are you?" Ava whispered, the question hanging in the air, unanswered.

The beginning of a huge misunderstanding had begun.

Rank Final Selected Candidates 1 Leorin Eldritch 2 Adeen Arnoult ... . 55 Erich Hofer ... . 80 Karl Willems 81 Asher Bamford ... . 100 Lucifer