Chapter 5 : Talent and Affinity.

Leylin sat in the carriage, his arms crossed as the vehicle bounced over uneven terrain. The golden rays of sunlight streamed in through the small window, but they did little to brighten his mood.

'So boring.'

It had been over ten days since the direwolf attack—ten days since he awakened the mysterious Soulbound Devourer. That moment, when he had pushed his body to the limits of a preparatory knight, still burned in his mind. The sensation of devouring the direwolf's soul, the rush of vitality, the intoxicating power—it had changed him.

Afterward, enough students had died, including that fool Ourin, before the Magi finally acted. Leylin still remembered the sheer overwhelming power they displayed. One spell had wiped out the remaining wolves that even the knights had struggled against. It had been an awe-inspiring, terrifying sight.

His own meager strength, which had felt so exhilarating at first, suddenly seemed laughable in comparison. He had gained power, yes, but it was nothing compared to what these true Magi wielded.

The journey after the attack had only grown more perilous. As they ventured deeper into the plains, the direwolves proved to be little more than the bottom of the food chain.

Gigantic black birds, standing several meters tall, had filled the sky like a swarm of locusts, their piercing cries sending shivers down the spines of even the knights. Saber-toothed beasts the size of mountains prowled in the distance, their sheer presence enough to make lesser creatures flee.

Leylin had seen them all. He had watched as the Magi—apathetic, powerful, and utterly indifferent—casually erased threats with waves of their hands. The deaths among the apprentices had finally reached their limit, and the white-robed Magi had taken action. They reinforced the carriages with protective spells, their runes shimmering in the dark, and personally intervened when necessary, dispersing entire colonies of creatures with a mere glance.

The worst had been when they encountered the massive, mountain-like beast. Its eyes, filled with intelligence, had locked onto them, and for a moment, Leylin had known it wouldn't attack. But after a brief confrontation, was still nerve wrecking, fortunately the creature had withdrawn, as if recognizing that these Magi were not to be trifled with.

Even now, Leylin could feel the lingering chill from that moment.

But now, at last, the monotonous journey was ending.

"It's about time." He muttered, watching as the endless green of the plains gave way to a vast expanse of blue. The salty tang of the sea filled the air, carried by the fierce winds.

"We've finally arrived, the Death Beach!" A student exclaimed excitedly.

A town-like camp came into view, filled with tents of various shapes and sizes. Surrounding the encampment were numerous carriages, just like the one he sat in. But what caught Leylin's attention was the sheer number of acolytes.

Hundreds of students, all around his age, filled the camp. Some wore expressions of excitement, others nervousness, and a few had the hardened look of those who had already endured too much.

The carriage came to a halt, and three white-robed Magi stepped forward, their presence instantly silencing the murmuring students. The leader, a man named Crow, gazed at them coldly.

"Welcome to the intermediate stop of your journey—the Death Beach," Crow announced. "Here, you will decide on your future academy. Choose wisely. Once you sign a contract, there is no turning back. Anyone who disobeys… will be hung at the gate of the camp."

The acolytes shuddered at the casual brutality of his words.

"Haha! Crow, you're always so dramatic!" A cheerful voice called out.

A fat Magus in white robes strolled toward them, a friendly smile on his face. "Don't scare the new blood. They've already had a rough enough journey."

"There were… difficulties along the way," Crow replied tersely.

The fat Magus waved it off. "Alright, newbies! Follow me into the camp."

He introduced himself as Jevon of the Ennea Ivory Ring Tower, boasting about his academy the entire way.

Leylin ignored him. His eyes swept over the camp, analyzing every detail. It was bustling with activity, filled with acolytes conversing, examining academy banners, and entering or exiting tents. This was the true starting point of his journey.

Jevon led them to a massive white tent adorned with strange floral patterns. A testing area.

"Now, all of you line up, take a form, and enter for your aptitude test," Jevon instructed, dropping a stack of forms on the table.

The line moved quickly, and soon it was Leylin's turn.

"Fill this out," Jevon said, handing him a sheepskin parchment.

Leylin picked up a goose feather pen, filling in his details swiftly. The red ink shimmered slightly against the parchment, forming intricate patterns that almost seemed alive.

"Come inside."

The voice was old, emotionless.

Leylin entered the dimly lit tent. It was spacious, almost unnaturally so, with a single black chair at the center. An elderly woman with stark white hair sat upon it, her expression cold and unreadable.

Before her, resting atop a wooden pedestal, was a large crystal ball.

"Place your hand on it," she instructed.

Leylin hesitated for only a moment before complying.

The instant his palm made contact, the ball lit up. A surge of energy flowed through his body, scanning, analyzing—searching.

A peculiar sensation spread from Leylin's fingertips pressed against the cool surface of the crystal ball.

A sharp pain shot through his skull, as though an invisible force was drilling into his mind, stirring his thoughts into chaos. He grit his teeth, feeling as if something foreign was attempting to peer into the depths of his being.

The crystal ball began to glow faintly, pulsating in rhythm with the throbbing pain in his head.

"Good! Keep holding on!" The witch's eyes remained locked onto the sphere, her gaze sharp and unwavering.

The light from the ball intensified, flickering like a dying star before stabilizing into a steady brilliance. Leylin clenched his fists, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as the agony threatened to break his composure. It felt as if his very soul was being weighed and measured, its essence laid bare.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pain receded. His grip faltered slightly, and the glow from the crystal ball dimmed.

"So, this is your level?" The witch muttered, nodding to herself. She swiftly took up a goose feather pen and began writing on the parchment.

"We classify acolytes' aptitude into five grades—first being the weakest and fifth being the strongest. You have been categorized as fourth grade, which is quite a high ranking."

With an almost mechanical motion, she twisted a ring on her bony fingers, pressing it against the parchment. A strange mark appeared on the sheepskin paper, shimmering faintly before settling in place.

"Your test is complete. Move along." Her tone was brisk, already waving him off as another young girl with freckles hesitantly stepped forward.

Leylin took his parchment, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before stepping past the heavy curtain into the next chamber.

This space was just as open as the last, though dimly lit. In the center, seated at a simple wooden table, was an old man with a long, white beard. His sharp, aged eyes scrutinized Leylin the moment he entered.

"Fourth grade, hmm? Not bad." The elder rubbed his chin before knocking twice on the table.

A soft rumbling sounded, and the wooden surface split apart. From within, a black stone basin slowly rose, filled with a shimmering metallic liquid that rippled gently, resembling molten silver.

"Focus," the old man instructed, his voice carrying an undeniable weight of authority.

Leylin stepped forward, peering into the basin. His reflection was distorted in the ever-shifting surface. He felt something stir within him, as if an unseen force was responding to the call of the strange liquid.

The mercury-like substance began to swirl, spiraling inward as though forming a black vortex. At the very center, shadows pooled, deep and unfathomable, coiling like living tendrils.

A faint hum filled Leylin's ears, a whisper at the edge of his perception. The vortex seemed hungry, as if seeking to consume all that it touched.

"What do you see?" The old man's voice was distant, as if carried by the wind.

Leylin's pupils constricted slightly. "A whirlpool… black, endless. The shadows writhe within it, stretching outward. There's… something deeper, something reaching back."

His chest tightened as he sensed something beyond the void—a presence, silent and unknowable, yet intimately familiar.

"And?" The old man's voice broke through his trance.

"Traces of fire, flickering at the edges." His voice was steady, though his pulse quickened. "And… threads of silver, pulsing in and out, as if something is being pulled toward the darkness."

The old man's eyes flashed with understanding. "Anything else?"

Leylin hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head. "Nothing else."

The elder snapped his fingers. Instantly, the pressure bearing down on Leylin disappeared, and he sucked in a sharp breath, realizing how tense his body had become.

"Your elemental affinities have been determined," the old man stated while quickly writing on the parchment. "Your strongest alignment is with the Soul element, followed closely by Darkness and Shadow. You also possess a good affinity for Fire."

He glanced at Leylin before adding, "Water is your weakest element, almost nonexistent."

Leylin exhaled, his thoughts racing. He had expected Darkness and Shadow, but the mention of Soul confirmed something deeper about his talent—his ability to devour and assimilate.

'A change in talent as well as affinity, but its roughly the same. Fang Ming was only three grade talent but with his A. I. Chip his speed of progression was similar to or, even better than some fourth grade talent, similarly although I am only a fourth grade my talent wouldn't be below a fifth grade, the peak talent.'

"Let me give you a piece of advice," the old man continued. "Magi can manipulate all elements to some extent, but only by following the path most attuned to you will you achieve true power."

With that, he pressed his hand onto the parchment, leaving behind a faint golden imprint before handing it back to Leylin.

"Your examination is complete. Exit through the back and proceed to select your academy."

Leylin bowed slightly before pushing aside the heavy curtain.

As sunlight spilled over him, he heard a familiar voice call out—

"Hey! Leylin!"

Turning his head, he saw George waving with a grin. "You're done with your test too?"

As Leylin nodded, he waved the sheepskin paper in his hands.

"I'm done too. Haha! Turns out, this young master is quite the genius—fourth-grade aptitude!" George grinned smugly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Me too." Leylin looked at him with a dismissive expression.

"Woah, I guess as expected of my Furze Alliance." George laughed, even though the temporary noble group Furze Alliance have dissolved, George still asked everyone to meet again when they become Official Magus but Leylin knows how difficult it would be, this path is not for everyone.

Talent were an important factor for Magus path but the ruthlessness of this path require much more.

Acolytes were graded based on their likelihood of advancing to a full-fledged Magus. Fifth grade was the highest, boasting a 90% success rate. Fourth grade, slightly lower, still offered a 50% chance.

Below that, third-grade acolytes had only a 10% chance, second-grade barely reached 2-3%, and first-grade was nearly hopeless, ranging from 1% to as low as 0.1%.

Realistically, only those ranked third or higher have a real shot at becoming Magi. The rest will be stuck as acolytes forever.

While the elemental affinity is about a Magus path. Some wielded fire, others ice, and some even controlled lightning.

Technically, Magi can use all elements, but affinity determines efficiency. If a fire-aligned Magus tries using water spells, the effort will drain more energy and produce weaker effects. The stronger your affinity, the easier and more powerful magic will be.

Aptitude sets the limits, while affinity defines the direction.

"Let's go pick academy but I guess you have already chosen." Leylin said.

George stretched. "Yeah, My father already arranged mine. I'll be joining the Ennea Ivory Ring Tower—one of our family's connections is a senior Magus there. You should come with me!"

Leylin shook his head, his fingers grazing the ring around his neck.

"No, I have somewhere else in mind." He declined politely.

George shrugged. "Alright, I'll go handle my enrollment. If you change your mind, come find me in the Ennea Ivory Ring Tower's area!"

With a wave, he disappeared into the crowd.

Leylin, however, made his way directly to the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy. Despite his thirst for adventure, he knew he was still too weak. Right now, power came first—only once he was strong enough would he allow himself to explore freely.

Rashly venturing into an unknown academy is no small deal it could even prove fatal.

Magus are after all very strange existence, Fang Ming's professor Kroft and the current guide of Abyssal bone forest Dorotte were magus of much better attitude than most.

He only has future knowledge about Abyssal Bone Forest, thats where he would rise and thrive.

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