Chapter 4
After two weeks of training they finally begun to understand what Marcel tried to teach them. They could sense the atomic makeup of the world around them, but they needed a lot of concentration to maintain this state. It was like telling a man to thread a needle after years of work with a jack-hammer. To train them in the needed finesse Marcel created a game where the participants needed to move a sphere of metal through a tight course without touching the obstacles. He had needed to fix the obstacle multiple times a day at the beginning. Marcel decided to have some serious conversations with the instructors at the academy, who seemed to just create huge ass magic canons out of their students.
While Marcel observed and taught his apprentices he began to see the differences the supreme techniques created compared to normal techniques. Their souls weren't bigger, in fact his own appeared to be bigger than theirs, but their energy conductivity was just absurdly high. There seemed to exist channels in their souls, but Marcel could only begin to guess how they were created and maintained their form. He had created similar channels before, but only in barely changing metal objects. A soul is different it flows and changes constantly. What technique could change such a fundamental thing without completely altering the person? Or did it alter them?
Now that he thought about it he had never heard about a criminal or deserter that used supreme techniques. Was the oath they took just so powerful that nobody had ever succeeded or did such thoughts just not appear in them? Luckily he still had years to think about this since the students would only have access to the secret techniques in their last year and only then would they have to swear an oath.
Three days before the academy recruitment began Marcel had finished the last order on the list and received the full payment. With 2000 gold he was now as wealthy as one of the lowest landless nobles. During these weeks he had studied a lot and barely slept, but had instead used one of Oliver's training methods, which gave him the rest he needed, while simultaneously train his soul. He could now create ridiculous huge spells and compensated the low energy conductivity of his soul with sheer size of the conductors. It was a crude solution, but he could manipulate amounts of energy that were almost equal to that of a supreme technique user. Yet his endurance in doing so lagged far behind and he needs a lot of time to recuperate from such arduous tasks.
His apprentices could now finally create enchantments, although they wasted a lot of space and still made many errors. Still he couldn't teach them anything new anymore, all that was left for them was practice. Which they could do on their own. They didn't need Marcel for this and he was glad that he could now concentrate on his academy life. Yet in the past weeks he asked himself repetitively the same question: “What drove and still drives me to enter the academy?” But he couldn't find an answer. Illogical as it is he still couldn't shake of this desire, he felt from his very core that he was meant to do it. Was it the inner drive he had read about when he studied the worldborn in the past weeks?
It seemed like he wasn't the sole master of his mind, but who is it anyway? One more manipulator won't change much. So Marcel decided to just go with the flow.
During his studies he had learned a lot about this countries history. What had surprised him the most was how young it was and that it was subordinate to a gargantuan empire. At first it seemed strange that he had never heard of it before, but as he thought about it it became clear that since the normal populace were never involved with it. In fact they didn't have to care about it at all. The immediate sovereign was way more important to them than any alliances ever could be. He also learned that the oath he would have to take to learn the supreme techniques was towards the empire with the king of this country as an intermediary.
Finally the day of recruitment arrived. Marcel started his day very early and was among the first to arrive at the academy's gate. He paid the participation fee and waited together with the other early birds. If he had known how long they had to wait he probably wouldn't have hurried as much. The tests only began after noon! He should have investigated this more thoroughly. While he waited all of the youths that entered the waiting area were nobles, which were discernible through the emblems they proudly wore on their clothes, which represented their family.
Marcel's plain commoner clothes stuck out like a sore thumb. Luckily nobody decided to stoop to bullying him in front of all the other nobles. There wasn't anything to gain through that except a bad image as a bully. Mostly ignored Marcel sat in his corner and observed his surroundings. For the first time he felt how lonely he really was. Even in the village he didn't make any real friends. Sure the children there had accepted and played with him. But the only person he was close with there was his adoptive father Tom. When he saw the groups of young people standing together and chatting he decided that he had to change this.
Finally a door opened and two men and a woman entered. Marcel already knew two of them. The one that walked towards the podium was the headmaster of this academy. And the men that remained at the door was Eric Lan. But the woman next to him was an enigma. Yet Marcel couldn't stop looking in her direction. She exuded such an oppressive air of power! When she noticed his staring a playful smile crept on her face and just for a moment she showed him her soul. How could he ever thought about almost being equal to an user of a supreme technique! She was a complete monster! All the adventurers he had met appeared like kittens when compared to her.
His thoughts were interrupted when the headmaster began his speech. “Welcome dear applicants! Welcome to our 139th recruitment tests! As most of you may already know I am Alex Korum headmaster of this academy. Please give a warm welcome to our guests Eric Lan, guild master of the adventurers guild. And the lovely women next to him is the empire's representative Ariana Kal. She is here to scout for talents, she might be able to get you a good job in the future, so give her a good show.” A short round of applause erupted but quickly died down.
“Our test will be held in three different categories which I won't disclose right now since the supervisors are better suited for that. For efficiencies sake you will be split into three groups. So please have a look at this board and find your group. As you may have noticed at the side of this room there are three doors which are numbered. Please go through the respective door and take your tests.” The headmaster explained.
Marcel quickly found his name on the list. It was the only one without a family name. He was sorted into group three and went through the respective door. He entered a waiting area and sat down on a couch. Steadily other applicants entered the room. Was it coincidence that most of them looked either weaker and/or poorer than their peers? Marcel couldn't shake off the feeling that whoever made these groups was rather superficial. But it shouldn't really matter as long as he could get a good evaluation.
As far as he knew one had to either pass two of the three tests or excel in one. But the last decision about whether one was accepted at the academy is made by the three guilds. At least one of them must be willing to accept the students as a recruit. Since in the end the guilds would be their employer Marcel thought that this was fair. Although he couldn't shake of the thought that influence could win over actual talent with this system.
Finally the door opposite to the one they had entered opened. “Would you look at that! Franziskus Everan is at it again! I always tell him to just draw lots, but he always sorts by riches and age of the family! Nonetheless I am pleased to meet you! I am Raim Salem. I will be your supervisor for today and if you pass your torturer. Or as some call me trainer for physical education.” A brawny, bald, middle aged man introduced himself with his loud voice.
“For your first test we will have a small sparring. Two of your possible future professions are directly combat related, so it is only natural that we have to test whether you have any experience and talent in that field. Follow me lads.” He said and left through the door through which he had entered beforehand.
Around 100 youths followed Raim through a maze of windowless corridors. Suddenly they found themselves on an outdoor trainings field. There was a round plaza in its middle and around it was a track. When everyone entered ten men came over and stood next to Raim, like him they were brawny bald guys, although they were younger and their faces lacked the sharp corners.
“This are my assistents. Please create ten equally numbered groups and stand behind any of us.” Raim said. After a short tangle everyone was grouped. “Now we can get started! First we will test your bodily fitness, so please follow the directives of your group leaders and absolve the tasks to the best of your capability.” He said.
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After a regiment of sweaty exercises Marcel was rated as extremely fit, although he lost some points in the department for flexibility. But it also showed him his limits. He may have been tireless when he marched to the town, but to use strength explosively multiple times in a row was a completely different matter. The next test would be a combat test and in the break between the tests they had to pick a weapon. Memories of Oliver's training matches were the only combat related experiences Marcel had. So he did pick a weapon with which he was rather acquainted. A one-handed hammer! It had a longer handle than he was used to, but after a few practice swings he felt comfortable with it.
He was the first that got to fight against the assistant, that supervised their group. When he walked into the fighting area that was marked on the plaza the assistant joked. “What do we have here? Weren't the swords to your liking? Or are you a smith?” Indeed the most common weapons among those for choice were swords in different sizes. Only a single hammer had lain atop the table. “I am.” Was all Marcel replied to him. Which made him stupefied. “That is the first time this joke didn't work. Usually the unconfident pick the heaviest looking weapon they can find and drag this hammer behind them. But if you are indeed fine with your choice then let us begin!” He said while readying his stance.
It wasn't expected that new recruits could fight against a trained fighter. All they should do was attack and try to overcome the defence of the supervisor. So Marcel begun to attack him with wide swing and worked him like he would a glowing piece of metal. But his adversary was able to easily deflect his attacks, although he didn't dare to block. His weapon, a one-handed sword, would break if he did, since he wasn't allowed to infuse it with a spell.
“That is enough. You sure enough know how to handle your hammer, but I ain't a piece of metal! As far as I can see you don't have any fighting training. Hence your fighting ability will be judged as ordinary.” The assistant dismissed Marcel. Marcel left the stage and returned his hammer. In the following half an hour he watched the others. He quickly learned of the difference between his mindless onslaught of heavy hits and actual fighting. Most noble children had received a basic weapon training. As such the fights he saw were rather advanced.
They alternated in their approaches, tactics, and stances. They used feints, locks and other techniques. It was a completely different caliber. This reminded him that none of the others had terrible grades in the fitness department. Even if they looked weak they weren't! Marcel deducted that most children here could easily defeat him in a melee.
When all tests in this compartment were finished they once again followed Saim through the maze of corridors. The next room they entered was lined with chairs and tables. On every table laid a written test and some writing tools. “I don' think this test needs much explaining. Just sit down and answer the questions. Of course you should leave your name on the answering sheet.” Saim explained.
The test started off with easy questions and got increasingly difficult. The questions encompassed history, mathematics, geometry, physics and biology. Marcel could answer most questions easily, but he lacked knowledge about the biology of monsters. It had never occurred to him that he would need to know it. And since he never had encountered one either his curiosity in this field had been non-existent.
After two hours Saim rung a bell and collected the tests. Only tomorrow in the acceptance ceremony would they learn of their evaluation in this test. Once again they follow Saim through the corridors. Was the building really so huge? Or did they take a detour to not cross paths with another group? That were questions Marcel definitely wanted to see answered in the near future! After a time that seemed way too long to move from one end of the building to the other they entered a big waiting area. “You better get comfy and relax. This last test is the magic exam and you will need all your mental capabilities for it. When your name is called you will follow the examiners and take the test.” Saim explained.
Everyone took a seat and waited for their turn. Slowly the room became empty. Those that took the test didn't return to the waiting area. Probably to not give the remaining testees an unfair advantage. Finally it was Marcel's turn. He followed an old crookbacked man with a long white beard into a seperate room. In it were only a desk, two chairs behind it and a woman, that looked as old as the man he followed. “Dear this seems to be our last testee of the day.” The old man said. “Ahh very well. Then let us begin Marcel. Please try to mimick the forms I create with my soul.”
Marcel followed her lead and began to create increasingly complex forms with his soul. His accuracy apparently shocked the two, as disbelief began to build on their faces. After almnost half an hour the old women had to surrender. Her face was ashen and her breathing heavy. “May I continue with this exercise? I am still not at my limit. Or should I show you the most complex spell I can do?” Marcel asked feeling rather bad that he drove such a friendly looking old woman to the brink of exhaustion.
“Yes, please show us your strongest spell. I will prepare a shield for you to test it.” The old man said and with a wave of his arm a translucent shield appeared in front of a part of the wall next to the door. Marcel began to prepare his spell. He wove thread after thread with his soul, made them into energy collectors, energy tubes, conversation centers and manipulators until he finally awoke the monstrosity he had created. At first it drained heat from the surroundings, then the spell collected humidity out of the air. The water was split apart and the oxygen removed. What remained was pure hydrogen. Then began the tricky part. He had to condense part of it as much as possible, while simultaneously speeding up the other. Then he intersected the two parts and it ignited.
Beforehand he had created shields to stop radiation and heat leaks. They collected these energies and reused it to maintain the spell. The strain on his soul still remained, but it was way less than what he would need to tolerate if he wanted to reach comparable results through sheer force.
The old man was rather confused by what he saw. He almost missed the fine threads Marcel used and he couldn't imagine why they were needed. Such weak structures weren't used in spells he knows. And the final product was only a sphere of flames? Why such a complicated way to create something this weak?
Marcel turned towards the shield an quickly created a field of shields of his own, they were radiation and kinetic shields, and made the sun collapse in a controlled direction. A bright light flashed through the room.
When the old man had regained his vision, he felt like something was amiss. First of all the strange shields the kid created were still in place. And secondly his shield and the wall behind it weren't in place. The wall had a big smoldering hole in it. Then Marcel contracted his shields, he didn't simply collapse them because he needed to collect and absorb the particles and radio active isotopes he had created.
“What exactly was that?” The old man finally asked. The woman was still in a state of confusion, probably because of her prior exhaustion. “I collected atoms and forced them into fusion and then I made it collapse.” Marcel replied calmly. “What? Could you further explain this please? What are atoms and what does it mean to fuse them?” he was asked. “That would need a lot of time. In simpler terms I made a small sun and let it die.” he answered. “I see that you will be very interesting and depressing for your future teachers. Lucky us that we are already in retirement and are only occasionally needed. I will take your explanation for now, although I see forward to the day when we can continue our conversation. Real mages have become rare these days... Anyways I think we both can give you outstanding grades for this test.” he said and signalled Marcel that he was dismissed.
Just when he turned around Marcel saw a familiar face looking through the newly opened hole. “I knew that if I search for the place with the most ruckus I would find you. But to actually dare to break down a wall impresses even me!” Sarah mocked him. “I overdid it a bit I hope I won't get in trouble.” Marcel responded in a shy voice, while acting along. “Haha you rascal. It isn't the first time you caused destruction you know? I won't fall for that!” Sarah said while giving him a slap on the shoulder, which almost made him stumble.