My name is Kyle. I had come from the Academy to oversee today's exam. I noticed the curious—and slightly anxious—glances of the kids, all silently fixed on me in this vast, heavy hall. Their breaths were uneven and excited, echoing faintly in the stillness.
I began softly but with a firm voice:
"We are not looking for Normal people. We seek those whose potential goes beyond even what they themselves know."
I paused slightly, letting the weight of that sentence settle into the air. The sound of their rapid, trembling breaths filled the silence, as if everyone was searching for a chance to prove they were different.
"Today's exam has three parts." I raised my hand and counted off:
"First, the Mana Assessment—measuring the magical energy naturally flowing within each of you. This part reveals how much of your being is in tune with magic."
I saw their eyes widen with excitement and continued softly:
"Second, Mana Control. Having enough magical power isn't enough. If you cannot control that power, magic might burn you from within. Mana control doesn't require special training; you only need to feel your mana and try to guide its flow at your will."
I gave a small smile.
"Almost all Normal people can do this, but the real difference lies in the precision and deep sensitivity with which you control the mana flow."
I searched their eyes to make sure my words had touched their hearts.
"And the last part… swordsmanship skills." My voice grew stronger.
"We don't need weak wizards. When magic is paired with physical strength, it turns you into a true fighter. I know many of you have had basic sword training, but I don't expect much. I just want to test your swordsmanship talent."
I took a deep breath and continued:
"I will participate in the third part myself, so if you reach that stage, be ready to face me."
My eyes slowly scanned the crowd. I paused for a moment, then calmly said:
"Each stage will be harder. But if you manage to pass all three... there might be a place for you at the Academy."
The kids stood in line. A heavy silence fell over the room. Only the loud, rapid beating of their hearts echoed in the stillness. It was as if each one was wrestling with fear and hope in that moment.
The instructor beside me stepped forward. His voice rang loud and clear:
"Now that you're about to enter the first test, listen carefully. What I say might decide the course of your life."
He looked into their eager, curious eyes and said:
"Mana is the vital energy of the universe. It exists in every living being… even in inanimate objects. But its amount varies from person to person."
He paused, and his voice softened but deepened:
"An average human is born with between 50 and 100 mana units. If they grow naturally, by adulthood they might reach about a thousand units. We call this Level E."
He raised his hand and began counting:
"Level D: Around 2,000 units. Still relatively average but a bit above the norm.
Level C: 5,000 units. This level means you can fight multiple opponents at once and have a chance to win.
Level B: 8,000 units. For example, a silver bear is at this level; a creature capable of destroying a village."
He paused, then continued with a serious tone:
"Level A: At least 10,000 units. A person at this strength is like a small army.
Level A+: Above 100,000 units. These individuals are threats to entire nations.
And finally… Level S."
He fell silent for a moment, as if feeling the weight of the word himself.
"Level S means over one million mana units. At this level, a being can destroy an entire continent. Such power is usually akin to a dark lord or a living legend."
The kids' eyes sparkled—some with excitement, some with fear. Deep down, everyone felt that these powers bring both security and danger.
The instructor stepped back and said:
"Now it's your turn to measure your inner selves. I must say the mana system is unfair, because some are born with more mana. Even if an average person works very hard but lacks talent, they cannot reach the highest levels. They might reach Level A, but a gifted individual can go beyond with some effort."
A heavy silence filled the air. Everyone understood that in this world, talent always outweighs hard work. Of course, hard work has its place and can lead to progress, but without talent, growth is limited.
The kids quieted, their gazes filled with both hope and the fear of this harsh truth.
In the center of the arena stood a tall crystal pillar. A soft, glowing light emanated from within, as if a beating heart full of energy pulsed inside it. This pillar was designed to send magical signals into the body, measuring the natural mana level and displaying the result numerically.
The instructor stood beside the pillar and gestured:
"Everyone, come forward and place your right hand on the pillar. It will detect your natural mana and show the result through the color and intensity of the light."
The first person stepped forward. His hands trembled, and when he touched the pillar, it only glowed faintly. The device's dry, emotionless voice announced:
"567."
The next came, a much lower number: "94." Then "213."
All results were low but still acceptable. They expected the pillar to shine more brightly.
Disappointment spread across their faces. Some shyly stepped back, others remained silent, knowing there were still two tests left to prove themselves.
Suddenly, heavy, firmfootsteps echoed on the floor.
A boy with golden hair and bright blue eyes approached confidently.
"Julius, ready," he declared himself.
Without hesitation, he placed his hand on the pillar. The crystal suddenly shone with an intense blue light, spreading waves of energy all around.
"8,760."
A whisper ran through the crowd:
"Wow!... that's close to Level B!"
Julius's triumphant smile impressed everyone. No one had ever seen such a score at that age. This number showed the immense potential he possessed.
Before the excitement died down, a calm and silent girl stepped forward. She had golden hair and a serene face. Her gaze was full of confidence but without any pride.
The instructor looked at her carefully and asked:
"What's your name?"
"Sophia."
She gently placed her hand on the pillar. A white, silvery light radiated, and everyone stared silently. A special energy filled the air.
The device announced:
"10,640."
Everyone breathed deeply, even the instructor. No one had reached such a level at this age before. Fear and excitement flickered in the instructor's eyes. This was proof of two brilliant talents who, if trained, could reach unimaginable heights.
The instructor calmly said:
"This... is beyond Level A. If you train, your future will be brighter than many others. Such potential is very rare."
Sophia lowered her head, neither proud nor excited. Then she returned to the line. But the envious and admiring gazes of the kids remained fixed on her.
Several other children stepped forward, their results ranging between 2,000 and 3,500. Some were happy to be above average; others quietly stepped back.
Then it was Arthur's turn. The bandage on his forehead was still there, but his headache had lessened. He hoped he could pass the exam.
With hesitant steps, his heart pounding, and his mind full of doubt and painful memories, he approached.
He fixed his eyes on the pillar. Took a deep breath. Trembling, he touched the crystal.
Suddenly, a moderate but undulating blue light rose from the pillar. It was as if something was beating inside.
"6,230."
A deep silence filled the room. Neither too much nor too little. This number was higher than many participants and showed Arthur's special innate talent. He was definitely one of the top three.
Arthur withdrew his hand, feeling a strange happiness inside. No pride, no shame. Just a calm and confident feeling.
"I… I'm among the best. Maybe not the best, but definitely in the top three."
The second exam began. The kids took turns coming forward. Some had more experience and scored better. This showed that even if the mana amount is low, skill and control can lead to growth.
Arthur stepped forward quietly and focused. His steps were steady and calm. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
In his heart, he said:
"Mana is like the flow of air. If you guide it properly, not only will you be powerful, but your consumption will also be less. Father Maldrius taught me this. I've practiced many times to use magic well."
He gathered all his senses and fully listened to the invisible beats of energy around him. He drew mana from his core and gently guided it to his hands.
A mild warmth flared at his fingertips. A small, blue, dancing flame appeared in his palm. Smaller than others' flames but its color and shape were unique.
The flame was neither yellow nor red. Not like the flames of the others. It was a flame only Arthur could conjure this way; a flame that told a story—not just of power, but of effort, hope, and rare talent.
Arthur stared, eyes wide and half-smiling, stunned. For the first time, he fully unleashed his mana, and the result was a flame with a different, very rare color: blue. His blue flame trembled softly in the air and shone as if the fire itself bowed in respect.
The instructor, a man whose face spoke of years of experience and wisdom, stepped forward. His eyes widened in surprise, but a deep, satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He looked at Arthur and said:
"A blue flame… Hah, this year the Academy is going to be busy. Genius after genius."
He gently explained that flame colors don't change by themselves but indicate the individual's skill in applying mana and controlling it. The better and more skillful one is, the brighter and sometimes more colorful their flame will be.
After Arthur, Sophia stepped forward with calm and confident steps. She looked like someone completely sure of her result. She slowly raised her hands and, with a smooth, flawless motion, shaped a large, bright flame of fire around her. Her flame danced lively and energetically, just like butterflies flying in sunlight.
The instructor, eyes shining with admiration, whispered:
"So easy… like a trained wizard. You managed to create the fire flame in such a short time. This gives you an edge in magical combat over others. Well done."
He knew that Sophia was the most talented among all the participants; although the color of her flame didn't change, the speed and power of her flame were impressive. She had managed to create a flame faster and larger, which was a great advantage in the battlefield.
After Sophia, Julius stepped onto the field with firm and determined steps. With swift and fierce movements, he showcased his mana, and a burst of crimson flame erupted from his hands. The sound of the flames exploding echoed in the air, demonstrating his exceptional power.
Julius said proudly:
"Control? No, I have complete mastery."
The instructor responded with a meaningful smile:
"Strength is good, but instability can be your downfall someday."
One by one, the other participants stepped forward. Some managed to ignite a small flame, others produced mere sparks, and many only felt the mana without real control. For most, mana remained a mystery—a secret to be learned, not something they truly possessed.
But among them, a few shone brightly.
The final stage of the test was a swordfight. The training ground was wide and open, sunlight filtering through drifting clouds, casting gleams on the wooden blades.
The instructor stood in the middle and said:
"Magic isn't everything. Some are made for combat, not just focus and meditation on magic. As important as magic is, physical strength matters too. Wizards are usually weak in close combat. If you only excel at magic, that can be your greatest weakness. So you'd better improve both your magic and your physical strength."
The test began. The kids entered the field one by one and lined up in front of the instructor. The wooden swords were made of a special material that felt heavy, almost like iron swords. For some, their movements were slow and uncoordinated but understandable. Their young age and lack of physical training explained this, but the instructor was mostly looking for true talent.
One participant with weak mana control fought like a dancer. His strikes were soft, fast, and precise. The instructor smiled with satisfaction. It showed that everyone had their own strengths and weaknesses; even the strongest had flaws, and the average or weak could shine in some aspects.
Sophia stepped into the field. She picked up the sword carefully. Her movements were clean and controlled but lacked power and advanced technique. After a few quick defensive moves, she became breathless. The instructor said quietly:
"Maybe the sword isn't your path, but that's okay. With practice, you can improve. Don't get discouraged."
Then it was Julius's turn. He raised his sword proudly. His strikes were fast, heavy, and predictable. The instructor skillfully defended and disarmed him several times. In his mind, he thought:
"If he learns the fundamentals, he will be very dangerous. His talent is exceptional, both in magic and swordsmanship."
Others came and went; some were tired, some injured, some satisfied. None managed to touch the instructor. The difference among them was vast.
Finally, it was Arthur's turn. A heavy weight of stress and anxiety surged within him. The thought of a face-to-face fight made his body tremble, but inside him was warmth and hope; he knew the master was strong and could not be easily hurt. That gave him calm.
Arthur entered the field with slow steps. His gaze fixed on the instructor. A heavy, terrifying aura of battle energy radiated from the instructor, making it hard to breathe.
His heart quivered, but he didn't back down.
He picked up the wooden sword and silently said:
"Fear has always been there, but this time I won't let it hold me back."
The fight began. The instructor attacked brutally and without hesitation, striking Arthur's arms and stomach. Arthur tried to defend, but his speed was insufficient and each blow hit harder, pressing down on his body. Every time he fell, he got back up. The wounds weighed on him like a heavy mountain, but he didn't lose hope.
The instructor's mocking voice rang out:
"Is this all your power?"
Something inside Arthur boiled—not blind anger, but firm determination.
He took a deep breath.
He realized he could never match the instructor in strength, so he had to change his fighting style.
"If the sword alone isn't enough, why rely on it alone?"
He directed mana toward the sword. He had heard this from his stepfather Maldrius: those who use both mana and swordsmanship multiply their striking power.
A blue flame wrapped around the sword, and the sound of fire whispered in the wind. Since the sword was wooden, it wouldn't last long and he had to act quickly.
His steps quickened, his strikes grew heavier and more precise. The mana strengthened his muscles; although he still lacked enough experience, he had significantly improved.
For the first time, the instructor's balance faltered.
Arthur attacked and defended, moved around, and suddenly the tip of his wooden sword grazed the instructor's arm. It was the first time anyone had touched the instructor, and it was a great victory for Arthur.
A heavy silence filled the arena.
The instructor stepped back and smiled. In his mind, he thought:
"This kid... interesting."
But he decided to fight more seriously so Arthur could better understand himself.
The instructor gripped his sword tightly, took a deep breath, and with unbelievable speed charged at Arthur. Arthur tried to strike, but the instructor dodged attacks with incredible agility and parried the blows. The sound of swords clashing filled the air and thrilled the spectators.
In the end, the instructor landed a professional strike to Arthur's chest and knocked him down. Arthur's vision blurred as he fell.
The pain was severe, but he knew he had to keep going. His body was bruised and wounded. He wanted to fight but the pain overwhelmed him.
Arthur clutched his chest and tried to stand. The instructor smiled, respecting his fighting spirit, and extended his hand toward Arthur.
Panting, Arthur took the instructor's hand and rose.
The instructor said with a smile:
"Some fight with swords, some with mana... but you? You fight with your mind and heart. And that is the most dangerous combination."
Then the other participants fought one by one. Some were truly skilled, others inexperienced, which was natural. Some, like Sophia, were weaker physically.
When the test ended, everyone gathered, and the instructor raised his voice:
"The test is over. Results will be announced in three days. Only those truly worthy will enter the academy. Until then… rest. These may be the last days of your ordinary life."
Hearing this, the kids left the arena—some disappointed, some satisfied. For some, this was the beginning of their life's adventure. Arthur's body was bruised and wounded, but the injuries were not serious. A little rest would be enough to recover. He realized how much harder he must work to get better and better.