Chapter 38

The wizards began to give up a week after the test began, their progress distinctly divided by their ranks.

The lower ranks gave up at numbers 1-4, while the middle ranks stopped at number 5.

The higher ranks were divided into those who could barely complete number 6 and those who had enough wits and tenacity to challenge number 7. The highest ranks were divided by the percentage of number 7 that they solved, from answering barely more than half to providing a complete solution.

No one could even talk about number 8.

Regardless, experiencing the test alone became a feat, a medal of sorts, for the students. It was a privilege that only 150 out of the 300 new wizards could enjoy.

Not only the senior wizards but even the professors were asking about the test.

On Saturday noon, the day the exams at the university tower were dated to end, Sylvia immersed herself in question number 8, forgetting the passage of time.

Her disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes were completely disparate from her usual neat appearance. Nevertheless, she ceaselessly released mana.

She had spent nearly five days on the final problem alone, and through it all, she had already written more than seven magic circles.

Due to the numerous magic involved with the problem, she decided to deduce them piece by piece and translate them into the answer sheet.

She had conjured multiple magic circles already, but she still had no idea how many more were left.

She finally understood the need for the gigantic answer sheets.

"…!"

While writing the 8th magic circle, she felt a pain in her head and eyes. Acting swiftly, Sylvia quickly stopped the blood that was about to fall from her nose, knowing full well it might cause a problem if they dripped onto her papers.

Leaving the test room and creating a blood trail behind her, she noticed her reflection on the corridor's window.

It was clear she had left herself unattended and unaccounted for.

"…"

She might even die at this rate.

'I need to take a short break.'

Sylvia lightly tidied up her appearance using Cleanse as she headed for the elevator, finding the person she had seen for ten days straight seemingly dozing off.

"Excuse me."

"Ah! Oh. Ms. Sylvia, are you going out?"

"Yes."

"Okay, you may proceed."

She got on the elevator and came out of the tower.

Fortunately, the surroundings were quiet. Sylvia walked to a nearby park, sat on one of its benches, and stared at the garden right in front of her.

"…"

It was nothing out of the ordinary. It had grass, flowers, and trees stemming from the ground. Above the greenery shone the sun, providing them with the light that they need for photosynthesis.

The garden, just like question number 8, was the result of independent elements connecting to become one unit.

Hence, she thought creating and casting powerful advanced magic was no different from gardening.

Her father once told her that even if thousands or tens of thousands of Solda-ranked wizards gathered, they still wouldn't be able to manifest Great Magic, and Professor-level wizards could only do it when 30 of them gathered.

The Great Wizard could cast it by himself, however.

That was why only one Great Wizard existed in the past 60 years.

Even though he was now over a hundred years old, he could still break up question number 8 with just a glance.

"…"

Sylvia closed her eyes for a moment and opened them after, finding the sun's position had changed quite heavily.

She was confused at first but soon jumped up in shock upon understanding the phenomenon.

"…!"

She accidentally fell asleep.

Sylvia rushed back to the tower and checked the clock. 4 PM.

There were only 31 hours and 59 minutes left until Sunday midnight.

She sat in her chair again, scribbling with her wizard-exclusive pen and mana in an attempt to answer a test question that was interconnected like several cogwheels.

Sylvia calmly dismantled the connection and analyzed each of them individually.

Without knowing how the magic circles took such forms, she couldn't even expect to find any hints, let alone answers. Hence, she focused heavily on the task at hand.

Tick tock tick tock——

The clock ticked as if it were attached to herself.

Meanwhile, she constantly consumed her mana, which surprisingly reached tens of thousands, to imbue her answers into the answer sheet, until finally…

"… Eleven."

A total of eleven completed answer sheets.

She put them down on the floor, carefully examining their structure's order and combination.

The magic circles imprinted on the paper perfectly intertwined from the first to the eleventh's core.

Sylvia took a deep breath.

She imbued her 150 hours' worth of effort and mana into this magic.

———!

Her own soul even resonated with the magic circles on the answer sheet.

Whooooong…

With her heart trembling, 80% of her mana was instantly consumed, and her test room soon completely changed.

"…"

The magic that materialized extended over the walls and ceiling, creating an unfamiliar landscape that covered her room's entire space as it was separated from the rest of the world.

Cypress trees and wheat fields stretched across the lands, and clear winds and intense starlight enveloped the skies. Vegetable gardens littered the hills along with windmills, while acres upon acres of sunflowers beautifully decorated the vicinity of a simple village.

Deculein's genius materialized this space as a dedication to the young wizards who could solve all 11 techniques.

"…"

Sylvia found herself mesmerized by the painting-like scenery filled with rich and dazzling colors.

It was an art that made the beholder tremble stronger the more they were dazzled by it.

"Sylvia." A voice flowed with the wind. Turning her gaze to where it came from, her eyes widened.

Amid the mystifying harmony of magic and art was Deculein. He wore his usual attire, which was perfect enough to make her wonder if it was magical.

"Congratulations." He said, locking his eyes with hers.

… Kim Woo Jin's soul had a strong desire for art, at the very least.

It was a passion that he couldn't abandon even if the world and reality themselves swept him away, a dream that 'that guy' helped keep.

Although he couldn't reach his desired goal due to his lack of talent, eventually forcing him to push his love for the craft to the corner, Kim Woo Jin's memories of those days were combined with Deculein's characteristic [Aesthetic Sense].

Having gained the artistic talent he desired, he ended up imitating the famous paintings that remained in his head, creating them in a world that wasn't Earth through illusory magic.

The Starry Night, The Road with Cypress Trees and Stars, The Sunflower, Vegetable Garden in Montmartre Hill…

The maker of those paintings struggled with endless pain and sorrow.

In the end, he was just a fleeting stranger who wasn't acknowledged in his lifetime, but his affliction between death and madness allowed the most primitive beauty to bloom inside him. The story of the painter named Vincent Van Gogh was told through an entrancing and beautiful canvas that glowed brighter than his life ever did.

"…"

Sylvia softly closed her eyes, the scene remaining in her vision even when she did, much like the warmth she felt on her skin.

It was all magic. Even the colors were made of elements.

The unfamiliar fields seemed to be moving, swaying along with the winds, causing tremors, which soon turned into an echo, to occur within her soul as she stood there amid it all.

After a brief silence, she heard his voice once more.

"Thanks."

Deculein uttered a word that caught her off guard.

"…?"

She didn't know what he was grateful for, but he sounded sincere.

"… Good work."

Deculein couldn't reproduce it with his own magic, but he wanted to see it with his own eyes at least once.

That was why he was grateful to Sylvia.

He didn't know if she understood him, but fortunately, she nodded as if she did in her own way.

Sylvia turned around again and left her body to the magical landscape, enjoying its light, breeze, scent, vibrant colors, and calming movements.

Not long after, she felt warmth flowing down her cheek.

A single teardrop fell, the one that she had kept inside her since her mother's death.

"…" Deculein had already left by the time she turned around after wiping it away.

… She was hoping to return his thanks.

*****

Knock knock—

Allen opened the door of a test room filled with the scent of sweet coffee, finding Epherene inside.

It made him feel dizzy. Her answer sheets, imbued with multiple magic circles, were sprawled on the ground.

It was an approach close to Sylvia's, but it resulted in failure in the end. "Debutante Epherene. Time is up."

"…!"

Epherene flinched. Looking up, she saw Allen.

"Ah… Is that so?" She scratched the back of her head and smiled bitterly. "That's too bad."

Allen just smiled in return.

"By the way, Assistant Professor. This test question…" Epherene hesitated, sounding embarrassed and regretful.

"Ah, yes, I'll give it to you. Professor Deculein told me to do so. He'll send a new set of test papers along with a magic vault. However, we will need a drop of your blood."

There were a total of four people who solved the problems up to number 7, but there were only two who filled it in 11 days.

Epherene was one of them. Hence, she deserved to be rewarded.

"Whew… Thank you so much." She got up with a sigh of relief then collected blood. Afterward, she took all of her belongings with her, including her writing instruments and clothes, as she left the test room.

Allen saw her off to the elevator at the tower.

"You've done well, Ms. Epherene."

"… Thank you, Assistant Professor Allen. For the test paper as well."

Epherene bowed so deep the bag she was carrying on her back fell on the top of her head and came up.

"Hehe. It's okay." Allen laughed. "The test paper will arrive in 3 days. Feel free to solve it anytime by then. I'll also enclose ten magic answer sheets with it."

"Ah, really, thank you so much…"

"However, don't bury yourself in it."

Ding—

The elevator arrived just in time.

"What you didn't learn now, what you haven't realized, you will sooner or later. The day will come when you'll be able to solve it all. Trying to solve it every day might prove too hard, so I suggest limiting yourself to once a week."

Allen looked like he didn't know what he was talking about, but Epherene nodded and smiled brightly, understanding the gist of what he meant.

Her smiling face looked bright.

"Yes, I'll try to solve it at least once a week."

"… Okay." Allen watched her with envious eyes for some reason. "Take care~"

Epherene waved to the assistant professor until the elevator door closed. However…

Ding—!

When the door closed, her smile quickly disappeared. Blood flowed from her molars after biting them all day that they almost fell out.

"… ha."

She buried herself in the corner of the elevator. She shook her shoulder like that and punched the wall of the elevator.

Ding—!

"Uggggh!" She thought the elevator was broken, but its doors opened normally. It was already midnight, but many wizards took the elevator from the 25th floor anyway.

It was the Solda wizards who were under the professors. No, they were more like slaves than wizards.

Ding—!

The elevator stopped again on the 21st floor.

Ding—!

It did so once more, this time on the 19th floor.

Ding—!

12th floor.

Ding—!

5th.

By then, the elevator was already filled with approximately 30 wizards.

"Wah, when will we be allowed to sleep?"

"Wait, don't push. There's someone in the corner…"

"Grading is crazy."

"Argh… Don't push…"

"If we don't do all this, we'll get another complaint, though."

"Save me…"

"Ugh. If we do, the professor will scold us again, saying, 'why do you never consider my image?'"

Ding—!

Epherene arrived on the ground floor after almost getting squashed by people.

"… Hoo."

She then left the tower feeling dizzy, making her think she had become anemic. Squinting, she trudged forward, but she couldn't put strength into her legs. They stiffened up just as she was about to reach the exit.

Unable to walk any further, she was left with no other choice but to stand still and hope her legs wouldn't give up.

"Oh, it's Ifi!"

Right in front of her were the members of the club she founded in a moment of bewilderment.

"…"

Epherene couldn't handle the moment.

Her cheeks swelled up like meat buns. It felt like a dam she had been holding together had burst.

"Ifi~ don't cry. Let's eat. Roahawk boar is being prepared in our restaurant."

"Roahawk…"

Her friends approached her first, who was standing vacantly, then they walked out together.

"I won't give you any if you cry."

"… I'm not crying. When did I cry?"

***

… Darkness fell on the usually bright palace of the imperial family.

The emperor changed into a black and white attire as the royal palace gates were tightly closed.

At the sides of the carpet at the center, which only the emperor could walk on, the imperial knights, ministers, grand officers, and government officials knelt.

Crebaim sat on the throne, but he couldn't be seen without a veil.

He wished to have a swift passing.

Silence permeated the throne hall, but it wasn't silent enough to make his breathing hearable by his subjects.

The subjects and the knights managed to hold back their tears, but the sounds of their whimpers leaked.

The emperor wouldn't see the end of today. Soon enough, his body would be put inside a simple wooden coffin, as he willed.

The palace gates wouldn't be opened for three days upon his death, and after nine days, the enthronement would be held. The heads of the families would gather as the representatives of the sons and daughters of the kingdoms the empire ruled over.

… The emperor's death wasn't far off.

Sophien Aekater Augus von Jaegus Gifrein, the first in line to the throne was pondering in her inner chambers.

"… Your Highness." Sophien's knight, Keiron, called out to her.

She set her gaze upon him, her crimson pupils sinking languidly between her narrowed eyelids.

"Shouldn't you call me Your Majesty now?"

"Your Majesty has not died yet."

Sophien burst into a smirk.

"No, it's already been more than six months."

"…"

Keiron pulled out documents and handed them to her. "This month's homework."

"Leave it."

"It's homework."

"You always only carry your load. So frustrating."

"Please solve it. This exam's popular these days."

Sophien, who was sure to succeed the throne, had a talent in all fields.

Holding a sword, she could ascend to Valhalla. Becoming a sage wouldn't be farfetched either if she equipped herself with books. Naturally, if she decided to study magic, she could challenge the Great Wizard himself for his title.

The problem was her laziness.

Already past the age of twenty, Sophien showed no enthusiasm in any field. Even so, she had no gaps.

She could easily grasp and cope with any situation. Devoid of any emotion when making decisions, she prevented herself from making any rash and hasty judgment. Sophien made it a point to separate her personal and professional life.

Needless to say, she already had the qualities of an emperor set to become far superior in all fields than Crebaim.

"Hmm."

Sophien looked at the papers given by Keiron.

"So, it's magic."

"Yes."

She then saw the author of the exam. "Deculein von Grahan Yukline."

"You know him?"

"Of course. He's the one who defended the Red Box at Bercht, making the entire conference feel uncomfortable. What is even going on in that guy's mind? Why is he suddenly defending the Red Box?"

"… He's never been known to have a good reputation in the first place." Keiron smiled bitterly.

She threw away the document without saying a word.

"You should still read it, though."

"Why?"

"It was auctioned at the floating island, with its worth reaching 30 thousand Elnes."

"Why?"

"It was sold in limited quantities. Even Lord Geor and even Lord Sopier have read it—"

"Why?"

"… Do whatever you want with it, then."

"Why?"

"…"

She laughed lowly.

"I'll read it later. Did you give one to Kreto too?"

"Lord Kreto participated in the auction himself."

"He's doing his best on useless things."

Kreto, the second in line to the throne, was her little brother. He was a Lumier-ranked wizard who had an affinity for magic.

"Back to the topic, Keiron. What do you think I should do with the Red Box when I ascend the throne?"

The knight didn't reply to Sophien's question, causing her to twist her lips.

"You always say knights do not involve themselves with politics."

"It's 'knights don't talk much.'"

"That's the same thing. You only shut up when the conversation's about politics. If you're going to do that, you shouldn't have spoken at all in the first place. You'd still refuse to talk about it even if you got a knife pressed against your throat."

"…"

Keiron looked at Sophien.

There was always a light that transcended the Highness' pupils. Most people called it the talent and pride she was born with, but it was just a rotten and frozen gaze for Keiron, who had been with her since she was thirteen.

Doooong—

The drum of the palace rang. Keiron bit his lips softly.

"Your Highness, we have to go now."

"Yeah."

Sophien got up from her seat and walked more confidently and majestically than anyone else, which evidenced that she had always been naturally enveloped by dignity and majesty since she was born to the royal family.

Keiron, her knight, followed her powerful steps.