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Become a top mage at all costs

Eileen Caldwell had always been the epitome of a laid-back individual. From her early years to her teens, her passion for leisure rivaled that of any professional napper. School was merely a necessary inconvenience, and she found herself comfortably situated at the bottom of her class hierarchy, much to the chagrin of her teachers and the bemusement of her peers. However, all of this changed on her 18th birthday signaling her transition into adulthood, a mysterious system was activated, one that would upend her world of sloth and slumber. Gone were the days of lounging around without consequence; instead, Eileen found herself thrust into a destiny she could scarcely have imagined. This newly activated system, with its stern mandate against idleness, revealed to Eileen her true potential: she was destined to become one of the most formidable mages the world had ever seen. No longer could she while away the hours in blissful ignorance; instead, she was called upon to harness her latent magical abilities and rise to the challenge that lay before her.

K_Mopo · LGBT+
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308 Chs

You must be in the medium

The challenge hung in the air like a heavy fog, anticipation crackling among the spectators like static. All eyes were on the stage, the tension thickening with every passing moment. Lise Ravencrest stood poised, her demeanor unwavering despite the storm brewing before her.

The challenger, his uniform adorned with seven stars, exuded an aura of confidence that bordered on arrogance. His eyes burned with determination, his stance reflecting years of training and discipline. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned swirling gusts of wind that danced around him, a testament to his mastery of the elements.

Lise's response was calm and measured. She drew upon the depths of her power, channeling it into a swirling vortex of ice that encased her like a protective cocoon. The temperature plummeted, frost forming on the ground beneath her feet as she prepared to face her opponent head-on.

"Wind against ice," the principal mused from the sidelines, his voice carrying over the hushed whispers of the crowd. "A classic matchup indeed."

The challenger wasted no time in launching his assault, his movements swift and calculated. With a sharp gesture, he sent razor-sharp gusts of wind hurtling towards Lise, each one slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Lise met his attack head-on, her ice magic forming a shimmering barrier that deflected the onslaught with ease. The wind howled and raged, but Lise remained steadfast, her focus unbroken as she countered with a barrage of ice shards that streaked towards her opponent like frozen arrows.

Their battle raged on, each clash of magic sending shockwaves rippling through the stadium. The crowd watched in awe as the two mages danced across the stage, their movements a blur of power and precision.

As the fight reached its climax, the challenger launched a final, desperate assault, channeling all of his remaining energy into a powerful cyclone of wind that roared towards Lise with unstoppable force.

But she was ready. With a defiant cry, she unleashed her own magic in a dazzling display of power and precision. A blizzard erupted around her, swirling and coalescing into a massive ice dragon that surged forward with unstoppable momentum.

The dragon collided with the cyclone in a cataclysmic explosion of ice and wind, the force of their clash sending shockwaves rippling through the stadium. For a moment, everything hung in the balance, the air crackling with tension as the two opposing forces battled for supremacy.

And then, with a deafening roar, the ice dragon emerged victorious, its crystalline form shattering the cyclone with a single, decisive blow. The challenger staggered back, his strength depleted and his resolve shattered as he stared in disbelief at the victorious Lise Ravencrest.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement reaching a fever pitch as they hailed their champion. Lise stood triumphant, her eyes ablaze with determination as she surveyed the battlefield before her.

"Victory is mine," she declared, her voice ringing out with authority. "But let this be a lesson to all who dare to challenge me. I am Lise Ravencrest, and I will not be defeated."

With that, she turned and strode from the stage, her head held high and her spirit unbroken. As she disappeared into the crowd, whispers of her triumph echoed through the stadium, a testament to the indomitable spirit of one of the most powerful mages in the world.

As I stood in the shadow of the stage, my heart pounded against my ribcage like a frantic bird seeking escape.

The principal's voice boomed across the arena, "An incredible show of strength on Lise's part! With this victory, she ascends to 5th in the Council of Ten!" The crowd's roar was deafening, and four stars materialized above Lise's head, each one shimmering with the promise of her burgeoning power.

The principal's gaze swept over us, his next words slicing through the din, "Now, it's time to test the mettle of our future mages. Behold, the Arcanometer!"

With a flourish, a strange machine materialized on the stage , its surface gleaming under the spotlights. A hush fell over the crowd as the principal beckoned a student forward.

"Now, it's time for each of you to have your magical abilities tested," the principal declared, gesturing towards the mysterious contraption. "This machine will gauge the strength of your magic, determining whether you are worthy of advancing to the next level of training."

A ripple of excitement spread through the crowd as the students eagerly awaited their turn to demonstrate their skills. But as the first few participants stepped forward, their expressions quickly turned to dismay as the machine spat out abysmally low scores.

"One?!" the principal exclaimed in disbelief as the first reading flashed on the display. "That's utterly unacceptable!"

The pattern repeated with each successive student, the machine stubbornly refusing to register anything higher than single-digit scores. The atmosphere grew increasingly tense as the reality of the situation sunk in.

"It seems we have a serious problem on our hands," the principal remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. "In order to be considered even an average magician, one must achieve a score of at least two hundred and fifty. And for the most experienced among you, eight hundred is the benchmark."

I watched as my peers exchanged worried glances, the weight of expectation bearing down on them like a heavy burden. As the line dwindled, my heart pounded in my chest, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

And then, to my horror, the principal called out my name.

"Eileen," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "It's your turn."

I turned to face the machine, my hands trembling with apprehension. The holographic display flickered to life before me the system again, a single word materialized in glowing letters: "Medium."

"You must be in the medium level or you will be punished."

A chill ran down my spine as I absorbed the ominous warning, my mind racing with a million questions and fears. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing became painfully clear:

I have to do my best even if it's going to be difficult to use my magic.