Chapter 6: Magic Evaluation – A Spectacle for All the Wrong Reasons

  The magic evaluation took place in the academy’s Grand Hall, a towering cathedral-like chamber lined with crystalline conduits designed to measure and record magical capabilities.

  Students stood in rows, waiting for their turn to approach the examiners. The tension in the air was thick—this was the moment that determined placement, that separated the prodigies from the disappointments.

  Tobias stood among the confident elite, arms crossed, barely paying attention to those who went before him.

  Jessica, on the other hand, felt cooked.

  Her muscles still ached from the fight on the road. Her movements were sluggish. Her limbs screamed in protest with every step. But worse than that—

  The moment the instructors announced it was time to assess magic capacity, she already knew this was about to be a disaster.

  Six instructors oversaw the evaluation. Among them:

  ? Lady Isabeau de Montclair – A strict woman with piercing green eyes, dressed in elegant robes. She was the Magic Theory instructor, known for her no-nonsense attitude.

  ? Grandmaster Wolfram von Eisenwald – The headmaster himself, a towering presence with a steel gaze, one of the only three Grandmasters on the continent. He was here to observe, not intervene.

  ? Sir Aldric Faust – The Combat Magic instructor, a veteran knight with deep scars and a voice like gravel. He studied students with the keen eye of a warrior assessing recruits.

  Among the students, several stood out:

  ? Lucien von Hohenfeld – A blond-haired noble with sharp red eyes, an air of confidence surrounding him. His presence alone commanded attention, and his placement was already assumed to be near the top.

  ? Magnus Reinhardt – A commoner with rugged features, arms crossed as he observed silently. Known for his Earth and Water affinity, his raw combat ability made nobles uneasy.

  ? Seraphina von Aurelius – The princess herself, white-haired and blue-eyed, radiating an aura of royalty. Whispers surrounded her presence—she was one of the few in history to wield Light magic alongside another element.

  ? Alistair von Aurelius – Her twin, standing beside her, exuding a calm authority. Unlike Seraphina, his presence was colder, more distant.

  And then there was Jessica.

  A noble by birth, but a supposed failure in magic.

  The moment her name was called, murmurs began.

  “That’s the cripple, isn’t it?”

  “Didn’t she lose her magic entirely?”

  “Why is she even here?”

  Tobias’s eyes flicked to her, unreadable.

  Jessica walked forward, still feeling the lingering exhaustion in her body.

  The instructor gestured toward the crystal pillar meant to measure magic capacity.

  “Place your hand on the conduit.”

  She did.

  The crystal hummed to life. Energy surged. The room fell silent, waiting for a result.

  And then—

  The number appeared.

  ...0.

  Silence.

  “...That can’t be right,” Lady Isabeau muttered, glancing at the readings. She adjusted the calibration manually, assuming the device had made an error.

  The number flickered.

  -0.5.

  Someone choked.

  Students struggled not to laugh. Even some of the instructors looked vaguely baffled.

  “...That’s a new one,” Aldric Faust said, rubbing his temple.

  Lady Isabeau frowned. “There must be an issue with the conduit—”

  A technician adjusted the settings.

  -1.

  At that point, someone in the background physically collapsed from suppressing laughter.

  The worst part? It wasn’t even Jessica’s fault.

  The device had overcompensated when measuring her lack of magic, adjusting itself in the wrong direction.

  But to the rest of the room, it looked like she had somehow negative magic.

  Tobias visibly inhaled through his nose.

  Lucien was smirking.

  Magnus was... watching. Silently.

  Seraphina and Alistair exchanged glances.

  Jessica just stared at the result.

  “...Huh,” she said flatly.

  “Huh?” Tobias hissed.

  Lady Isabeau sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Next.”

  And just like that, the exam moved on.

  Chapter 7: The Combat Exams Begin

  With the magic evaluation concluded—and her disastrous performance still fresh in everyone’s minds—the combat placement exams commenced.

  The dueling grounds were located in an open-air coliseum, where students fought directly against instructors in a series of structured tests. The goal wasn’t to win—because none of them would.

  It was to impress.

  The Five Notable Exams1. Lucien von Hohenfeld – The Golden Prodigy

  The first student called was Lucien von Hohenfeld. The moment his name was spoken, the crowd grew silent in anticipation.

  Lucien strode to the center of the field, crimson eyes glinting with amusement, golden hair catching the sunlight. He carried himself with effortless confidence as he faced his assigned instructor—Sir Aldric Faust, the grizzled veteran of the battlefield.

  “You may begin.”

  Lucien drew his sword—a beautifully crafted rapier—and—

  FWOOOM.

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  A burst of fire erupted along the blade.

  In a blink, he lunged forward, striking at Sir Aldric with blistering speed. Each movement was fluid, seamless, as if born to wield both sword and flame in harmony.

  The duel became a showcase of precision and pressure—Lucien layered his swordplay with magic, feinting attacks with flame bursts before transitioning into real strikes.

  Sir Aldric was impressed.

  But not overwhelmed.

  With a sharp parry, Aldric dispersed one of Lucien’s flame attacks with his own Sword Aura, forcing the young noble backward. Even then, Lucien didn’t falter. His footwork was too polished. His instincts too honed.

  It took a full five minutes before Aldric finally disarmed him.

  A performance far beyond what was expected from a first-year.

  2. Seraphina von Aurelius – The Celestial Princess

  Next was Seraphina von Aurelius.

  The moment she stepped onto the field, a hush fell over the crowd. Royalty. Untouchable.

  Her opponent? Lady Isabeau de Montclair.

  Seraphina didn’t draw a blade. She raised one hand—light gathered at her fingertips, golden and radiant, before morphing into blades of pure energy orbiting her like a halo.

  Her control was flawless.

  With a gesture, the Light Blades launched forward. They moved as if alive.

  Lady Isabeau responded with a conjured shield of raw mana, dispersing the blades before they could land. But Seraphina wasn’t done—she flicked her wrist, and the swords curved midair, redirecting from multiple angles.

  A true test of magical control and multi-tasking.

  Lady Isabeau finally retaliated with a concentrated burst of force, shattering the constructs in a single blow. Seraphina staggered but didn’t break.

  She bowed after her defeat—regal, composed.

  The students were entranced.

  3. Magnus Reinhardt – The Unshakable Shield

  The third name called was Magnus Reinhardt.

  He didn’t carry himself like a noble. He walked like a fighter—uniform slightly unkempt, expression unreadable.

  His opponent was Sir Aldric, again.

  Magnus wielded a greatsword nearly as tall as himself. The moment the match began, he slammed the blade into the ground—spikes of earth erupted, aiming to restrict movement.

  Sir Aldric dodged.

  Magnus followed up with raw force—his strikes sent shockwaves through the ground. No elegance. No finesse.

  Just relentless pressure.

  He drove Aldric back more than once, even knocked him slightly off balance—a feat no one else had managed.

  It took a perfectly timed counter to finally disarm him.

  When the match ended, the murmurs were clear—he was a monster in his own right.

  4. Alistair von Aurelius – The Silent Storm

  When Alistair stepped forward, the crowd was still buzzing from Magnus’ match.

  Unlike his twin, Alistair was cold. Detached.

  His opponent? Grandmaster Wolfram von Eisenwald himself.

  Because Alistair wasn’t expected to be good.

  He was expected to be the best.

  He summoned Wind magic, his blade an extension of the air itself.

  Where Lucien burned and Magnus crushed—

  Alistair cut.

  His strikes were surgical. His steps almost silent. He barely touched the ground as he moved, launching razor-sharp wind slashes that forced even Wolfram to parry.

  Then—

  He vanished.

  Not literally. His speed blurred the line between visibility and absence. One moment here, the next—gone.

  The duel lasted almost ten minutes. The longest by far.

  Even he couldn’t beat Wolfram.

  But the tension afterward made one thing clear.

  He had forced effort from a Grandmaster.

  5. Hannelore Eisendreich – The Ice Queen

  The last of the major students was Hannelore Eisendreich, daughter of a marquis.

  Where Seraphina was regal, Hannelore was glacial. Beautiful. Pale. Emotionless.

  Her magic was Water—but so refined, it functioned as Ice.

  Her opponent? Sir Aldric.

  The moment the match started, she froze the battlefield.

  A complete terrain shift in a single breath.

  Aldric barely adjusted before jagged ice spears came from every direction. Hannelore’s control was unnerving—she shaped the battlefield like a surgeon, conjuring lethal formations without pause.

  But—

  Aldric shattered all of them.

  The match was over in under two minutes.

  Hannelore stepped down, her expression unreadable, as if the loss meant nothing.

  Jessica’s Turn – The Last Duel

  By the time Jessica’s name was called, she was already half-asleep from waiting.

  The audience was still riding the high of five impressive duels.

  That high dipped. Rapidly.

  Jessica Moran stepped forward with the enthusiasm of a corpse.

  People snickered.

  The sword in her hand felt like a tumor—too heavy, too slow. She hated it.

  Her opponent?

  Sir Aldric. Of course.

  She sighed.

  This was going to be annoying.

  Chapter 8: Five Seconds of Absolute Disrespect

  Jessica dragged the sword behind her, the steel scraping across the ground.

  It wasn’t an act of defiance. It wasn’t a display of arrogance.

  She was just too damn tired to hold it properly.

  Her arms were shaking, her legs stiff, and her entire body felt like stone.

  Across from her, Sir Aldric Faust was already moving into a stance, prepared to end the fight quickly.

  The crowd whispered, unimpressed.

  “She can barely stand.”

  “Why even bother?”

  “She’s going to get obliterated.”

  Jessica barely acknowledged them.

  She just exhaled slowly.

  The second the match began—

  She tilted the sword upright.

  Aldric lunged immediately, his blade flashing downward.

  Jessica couldn’t lift her sword in time.

  So she didn’t.

  Instead, her fingers loosened—just enough to tilt the hilt upward while keeping the tip of the blade grounded.

  The motion sent the weight of the sword shifting upright, almost standing straight on its tip, balancing for just a fraction of a second.

  That was all she needed.

  Her legs coiled.

  Her body rolled to the side in a sudden, tight pivot—

  A perfect Dempsey roll.

  Aldric’s blade carved through the air where she had just been.

  And in that brief second—as he reset his stance—

  The sword, no longer propped up, tilted back down.

  Jessica’s hand was already waiting for it.

  Her fingers snatched the hilt mid-motion.

  And she drove the pommel directly into Aldric’s thumb joint.

  CRACK.

  Aldric’s grip buckled.

  His fingers flinched against the hilt, his stance breaking for just a second.

  And in that second, he realized something.

  That hurt.

  It shouldn’t have.

  His gauntlets were reinforced with magic.

  Even a full-strength blow from a lesser opponent wouldn’t have registered.

  And yet—he felt it.

  A sharp, raw impact that lingered.

  His brows furrowed.

  Jessica, still half in her dodging stance, let out a long, slow breath.

  She barely looked at him.

  As if the fight was already over in her head.

  Aldric recovered instantly.

  His grip on his sword tightened.

  And before Jessica could reset her own stance—

  He drove forward.

  Jessica’s body had already overextended.

  Her legs screamed from the forced dodge.

  She knew she couldn’t move again.

  So she didn’t.

  Aldric’s shoulder slammed into her, sending her flying backwards.

  She hit the ground hard, the air ripping from her lungs.

  The match was over.

  Jessica didn’t move immediately.

  Not because she couldn’t.

  But because she didn’t care to.

  She let out a slow exhale, her body aching from the sheer effort it took to function.

  Aldric took a step back, still gripping his sword.

  But his hand still tingled.

  He flexed his thumb experimentally.

  It wasn’t broken.

  But it should have never buckled like that.

  Lady Isabeau sighed.

  “That was disgusting.”

  Another instructor snorted.

  “She fights like a gutter rat.”

  The nobles laughed.

  And just like that—the reputation stuck.

  Chapter 9: Utterly Ruined

  Jessica’s body was done.

  Not in a haha, that was exhausting kind of way.

  Not in a wow, my legs feel like jelly kind of way.

  No.

  This was the kind of absolute ruin where every single muscle screamed in betrayal, where standing felt like a crime against nature, and where even breathing felt like dragging herself over hot coals.

  She genuinely wasn’t sure how she had managed to stay upright this long.

  And now?

  She needed help.

  Which was why she had turned to her dearest, doting, tsundere brother and shamelessly asked:

  “Brother... can you carry me?” she said, coquettishly, batting her lashes.

  Tobias scoffed. “Really? Five seconds in a fight and now you need to be carried? Disgraceful.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes.

  Tobias exhaled sharply.

  Without another word, he scooped her up.

  She blinked. “Oh? So you do care.”

  He clicked his tongue, already carrying her toward the infirmary.

  “Shut up, Jess.”

  —

  The journey to the infirmary was... humbling.

  Tobias didn’t even complain all that much.

  He just scooped her up, his only complaints being a mumble about how much of a “stupid disgrace of a sister” she was, and marched forward while she went boneless in his arms.

  The murmurs followed them all the way there.

  Whispers. Stares. Judgment.

  After all, just moments ago, Jessica had somehow managed to outpace an instructor for five absurd seconds—and now she couldn’t even walk.

  It made zero sense.

  By the time they reached the infirmary, she was mentally preparing herself for a lecture.

  She was not prepared for the sheer horror on the healer’s face.

  —

  The healer’s reaction was instant.

  Her near-death experience before losing her memories.

  The dire wolves.

  The fight just now.

  The healer was absolutely appalled as she checked Jessica’s condition.

  Apparently, it wasn’t just soreness.

  She had pushed her body so far past its limits that she should have been collapsed hours ago.

  “Forget fighting,” the healer scolded. “How are you even awake?”

  ...Good question.

  She cast several spells to relieve the muscle strain—enough to make moving possible, but not enough to let Jessica get up and cause more trouble.

  Then came the scolding.

  Then the second scolding, this time directed at Tobias.

  Then the third scolding, back at Jessica.

  Then a lecture on proper recovery.

  And by the time the healer finally left—

  Tobias sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and said:

  “If you insist on fighting like a degenerate idiot and disgracing the Moran name...”

  He cracked his knuckles.

  “Then I’ll personally make sure you have the endurance to keep up this stupid act.”

  And then—

  He actually started massaging her muscles.

  —

  To be honest?

  Jessica didn’t care why he was doing it.

  Maybe he was just frustrated.

  Maybe he was reluctantly supportive.

  Maybe he had just accepted that she was a lost cause.

  Didn’t matter.

  She won this round.

  And as he worked through the knots of agony in her legs and shoulders, she couldn’t help but think—

  This is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.