As the brief, tense confrontation between Princess Lilith and Victoria came to an end, the attention of the first-year freshmen was quickly drawn to another figure.
A woman dressed in deep blue professor robes stepped slowly onto the high platform at the front of the Arena.
She appeared to be in her early thirties, her auburn hair impeccably styled into a neat bun at the back of her head. While her features were not breathtakingly gorgeous, they were sharp and well-defined, emanating an aura of sharpness and capability.
A pair of frameless glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. Behind the lenses, her cool, light brown eyes swept across the freshmen below without a hint of emotion, containing only pure scrutiny and assessment.
Grace Quinn—Chief Professor of the first-year class at Glory Cael Magic Academy, as well as the head examiner and supreme arbitrator of this Placement Exam.
Within the academy, she was known for her rigorous, almost exacting teaching style and her absolute belief in “strength above all.”
In her eyes, there was no distinction between nobles and commoners, nor any consideration of family background—only mana, technique, willpower, and combat performance mattered.
Everything spoke through results.
“Silence.”
Professor Quinn's voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange penetrating power and authority, ringing clearly across the entire Arena.
The bustling crowd fell so silent that a pin drop could be heard.
“The Placement Exam begins now.”
Concise and direct, she wasted no words on needless pleasantries:
“The rules have already been announced. The match order will follow the posted list. Victory or defeat is not the sole criterion—mana utilization, tactical thinking, adaptability, and force of will are all subject to evaluation.”
“Now, first pair, step forward.”
Her crisp, sharp opening immediately pulled everyone's focus back to the exam itself.
Tension, anticipation, and anxiety spread through the freshmen.
The rules of the Placement Exam were well established: freshmen fought in pairs while several instructors, including Professor Quinn, observed and assigned scores.
The final class placement depended not just on winning or losing, but far more on overall performance during the match.
This meant that even in defeat, a student who displayed sufficient potential, skill, or stubborn resolve could still enter the top-tier Class A.
Conversely, those who won through sheer luck or put on a poor display might find themselves placed in Class B, Class C, or even the lowest, Class D, despite their victory.
It was a trial where no one could afford to hold back.
For those limited spots in Class A, for superior faculty, resources, and future prospects, every freshman stepping onto the platform had to give their all.
The first pair to take the stage were two female students.
One of them was a count's daughter, specializing in the rather rare wood-attribute magic.
Less than a minute into the fight, she seized a tiny flaw in her opponent's stance. Several tough vines burst from the ground, instantly entangling the opponent's legs before a precise Leaf Blade skimmed past the opponent's neck, forcing an immediate surrender.
Clean, precise in mana control, and clear in tactical intent.
Professor Quinn nodded subtly, exchanged a few quiet words with the instructors beside her, and directly announced, “Winner, placed in Class A.”
Swift and straightforward, without a trace of hesitation.
The two freshmen in the second match, however, fully demonstrated the greenness of complete novices.
Their mana capacity was roughly equal, and they both relied on basic Fireballs and Water Arrows, making the fight look like a clumsy brawl between novices.
A Fireball here, a Water Arrow there—they traded blows back and forth, consuming mana rapidly while failing to land any decisive hits.
In the end, relying on slightly better physical stamina, one student used a lopsided shockwave to knock the opponent off the platform just as their mana ran completely dry.
Though victorious, the process had been tedious, the strategy simplistic, and the efficiency of mana usage dismal.
Professor Quinn announced impassively, “Winner, Class C. Loser, Class D.”
She offered no explanation, but the outcome spoke for itself.
The next few matches varied widely in quality.
Some were impressive, like the count's daughter from the first match, while others performed mediocrely, barely scraping by.
Upperclassmen and instructors in the spectator stands conversed in low voices, continually evaluating each new student named.
Finally, when the lineup for the sixth match was read aloud, a quiet stir rippled through the Arena.
“Sixth pair: Silvia Lorraine versus Angela White.”
Silvia took a deep breath. Under Victoria's encouraging gaze, she lightly patted her own cheeks as if psyching herself up, then stepped onto the spacious stone platform with a flustered yet resolute stride.
As she took her position on the stage, most of the freshmen focused their attention on this delicate, beautiful girl with supple pink hair and an unmistakably timid demeanor.
Information about her was scarce; the freshmen knew only one rumor—that this girl named Silvia was closely linked to the Holy Church of Light.
That alone was significant news.
For it suggested that she might possess powerful light-attribute mana.
While both light and wood were rare attributes, light-attribute magic was generally considered far trickier in the hands of equal-tier mages due to its twin traits of “isolation” and “empowerment.”
Silvia's opponent, Angela White—a viscount's daughter specializing in wind magic—was studying Silvia intently.
Seeing Silvia's obvious nervousness and awkward fluster, Angela let out a quiet sigh of relief in her heart.
Judging by that reaction, Silvia didn't seem confident in her own strength at all.
Which meant she might not be as formidable as Angela had feared.
Still, Angela did not let her guard down. She knew full well that her performance in this match directly determined her class placement.
Taking a deep breath, she drew a finely crafted wand-style magic conduit from her waist, its head embedded with a teal magic gem.
This was a Split Gem prepared by her family, capable of splitting her single-target Wind Blade spells into two, vastly increasing the attack area and deceptive capability.
“Both sides, prepare,” Professor Grace Quinn announced from the high platform, her voice completely calm.
Silvia clasped her hands over her chest and closed her eyes slightly, seeming to pray—or perhaps gathering her focus.
Angela gripped her magical wand tightly as faint teal currents began to swirl around her body.
“Begin.”
The instant the command fell, Angela struck.
She made no attempt to probe, going all out from the very start!
“Wind Blade!”
She shouted, swinging her wand sharply as mana surged into it.
A deep-teal blade of wind, half the height of a person and glinting with cold light along its edges, formed instantly and whistled through the air!
Simultaneously, the Split Gem atop the wand blazed with bright green light. The massive Wind Blade split in two mid-air, becoming two medium-sized blades that were faster and followed trickier arcs. Flying high and low in a pincer maneuver, they hurtled toward Silvia with air-shredding shrieks!
Angela clearly aimed for a quick victory, utilizing the conduit gem's power right from the opening to crush this opponent who seemed ill-adapted to the arena.
Seeing the two wind blades closing in instantaneously, Silvia stumbled back half a step in flustered confusion, failing to execute even a decent defense or dodge.
“I've won!” The thought flashed through Angela's mind, a look of relief appearing on her face.
However, right before the two wind blades touched Silvia's body—
Buzz!
A soft, pure, yet incredibly solid milky-white glow materialized out of thin air in front of Silvia without warning. It expanded rapidly, forming a wall of light shimmering with faint holy runes!
Bang! Bang!
The two sharp wind blades slammed violently into the light wall, producing heavy thuds.
Ripples spread across the surface of the light wall, yet it stood firm as a rock, motionless.
The tearing power of the wind blades was easily neutralized, dissipating into chaotic gusts that billowed Silvia's long pink hair and skirt.
“L-Light-attribute magic! It really is light attribute!”
A freshman below gasped in shock.
“And it's instantaneous defensive magic! What incredible mana control!”
Astonished whispers swept through the entire Arena in an instant.
At the same time, it confirmed something else.
Since Silvia could cast light-attribute magic, it proved she was no peripheral figure in the Church—she definitely possessed a far more significant background.
The relief on Angela's face froze instantly, replaced by shock and gravity.
Her worst fear had come true.
It really was light-attribute magic!
Gritting her teeth, a flicker of resolve flashed in Angela's eyes.
She decided to gamble!
“Hurricane Piercing!”
She shouted, thrusting her wand forward violently!
A teal cone of wind—only as thick as an arm, yet emanating an extremely dangerous aura—shot forth!
This was the strongest single-point penetration spell among low-tier wind magic. Forgoing area of effect, she pursued ultimate armor-piercing power, aiming straight at the center of the light wall!
This was a strike backed by every bit of her mana!
The wind cone collided violently with the light wall!
There was no thunderous boom, only an ear-splitting screech akin to metal grinding together!
The milky-white light wall flickered intensely, its surface runes swirling frantically, flashing bright and dim.
Silvia remained standing in place, though fine beads of sweat trickled down her forehead.
Three seconds, five seconds, ten seconds...
In the end, the light wall did not break.
The radiance of the teal wind cone dimmed rapidly, finally fading completely into nothingness.
And though the milky-white light wall had dimmed significantly, it still stood stubbornly in place.
Thump.
Her mana completely drained, Angela's knees buckled. She sank onto one knee, using her magic wand to barely prop herself up. She panted heavily, her face pale and her brow covered in sweat.
She looked up at the opposite side, her eyes filled with reluctance, yet also a trace of relief—she had given it her all.
Silvia slowly lowered her hands, and the wall of light dispersed into specks of glittering dust.
She exhaled softly, her bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead. Though she looked somewhat disheveled, she was completely unharmed.
On the high platform, Professor Grace Quinn quickly exchanged glances with the surrounding instructors and nodded slightly.
“The match is decided.”
She announced calmly, “Silvia Lorraine wins. Overall assessment: Class A.”
There were no cheers, only a hushed wave of gasps and muted murmurs.
Silvia seemed ill at ease under the spotlight. Shyly bowing toward the platform, she scurried off the stage like a startled fawn. Lowering her head, she rushed back to Victoria's side, grabbing her friend's arm before finally breathing a sigh of relief.
“Nice job,” Victoria gave her a thumbs-up.
Silvia giggled softly, then held up both fists in a cheering gesture as she looked at Victoria.
“It's your turn next, Victoria. Be careful!”
“Yeah, I will.”
With that, Victoria turned her gaze toward the opposite side of the stage.
The waves stirred up by Silvia had yet to fully settle, but everyone's attention was already captured by the upcoming duel.
For in the seventh match, the two names on the matchup list were enough to set anyone's blood pumping.
“Seventh pair.”
Professor Grace Quinn's voice sounded once more, as calm as ever, yet carrying a faint, almost imperceptible hint of anticipation:
“Victoria Cecil versus Lilith Kahn.”
Rate on N.U.
