Valen stretched in his chair and moved to the tall window overlooking Dawn Forest. Midday sun filtered through dissipating fog, casting dappled light across the canopy below.
The testing hall doors had been sealed a few minutes ago. Instructor Seth stood guard, arms crossed, turning away late arrivals with curt dismissals that carried across the courtyard.
Valen observed the crowd below.
The smart ones—or perhaps just the cautious—had finished their written exams early. They clustered around their tents now, sharing lunch and conversation. Their body language was relaxed, confident. One group even laughed loud enough for the sound to drift up to his window.
On the other hand, the cold-blooded killers who were caught were led towards the depths of the Academy.
Inside the hall, Instructor Aldric, pulled out his pocket watch with theatrical precision and yelled, "One hour remaining!" His voice boomed across the testing grounds. "Anyone still writing after that will be disqualified!"
The announcement sent visible ripples through the writing groups. Some straightened. Others exchanged glances.
Valen's attention drifted back to the forest edge.
The main character trio—Raylan, Elara, and Marcus—had returned an hour ago, exhausted and bloodied. Three Rank 2 monster corpses dragged behind them, along with treasures that looked similar to the ones Grand Warrior Theodore had gifted his own group.
Of course they'd find treasures. That's how these stories work.
But the pattern Valen noticed wasn't the treasures themselves. It was the injuries.
Fresh bandages wrapped around Raylan's sword arm. Elara limped slightly on her left side. Marcus had a nasty bruise darkening his jaw. The Academy healers had treated them immediately—green healing light still lingered around their wounds—but the damage told a story.
Ambushed. Multiple times. Valen had been watching them through Iris.
The distribution of injuries suggested attacks from different angles, different enemy types. And they won every engagement.
That was the main character privilege right there. Not invincibility, but an uncanny ability to emerge victorious regardless of circumstances.
The trio had rushed straight to the writing hall, still covered in monster blood and forest debris. They were among the last still taking the exam.
"Master, I have finished recording the examination questions," Iris chimed in his mind, her cheerful voice a stark contrast to his analytical mood.
"Let me see them."
A translucent interface materialized in his vision, displaying the exam questions one by one. Valen skimmed through them, his expression neutral.
Logic puzzles. Pattern recognition. Spatial reasoning. Basic tactical scenarios.
"These are... not that difficult," he muttered.
"Of course not, Master." Iris's chibi avatar appeared in the corner of his vision, practically radiating smugness. "For someone who cracked hell-mode competitive exams in your past life, this is elementary."
Valen worked through several problems mentally, finding solutions almost immediately. The difficulty level was appropriate for them, but nothing that would challenge someone with his background.
At least I won't have imposter syndrome at the Academy.
"Hehehe."
"What?"
"Nothing, Master. Just pleased that you're confident."
The results wouldn't be declared until the following morning. Standard procedure—give the instructors time to grade, deliberate, and prepare the announcements properly.
Valen spent the evening practicing his mana breathing exercises, feeling the steady rhythm of energy flowing through his channels. The Soul Crystal rested against his chest, warm and endless mana inside its golden shell.
He went to bed early, mind already preparing for whatever the next day would bring.
Morning arrived with foggy air and nervous energy.
The clearing before the Academy's administrative building had been transformed overnight. Massive boards lined the space, each covered in neat columns of names and scores. Combined results from both the combat and written tests, sorted by rank.
Valen arrived early, but the crowd had beaten him there. Hundreds of applicants pressed forward, scanning the boards with varying expressions of hope, relief, or crushing disappointment.
"Master, 4,567 applicants have passed the tests" Iris reported. "All applicants who failed to recover tokens during the forest test have already departed."
So these are the survivors. Valen found a vantage point on a low stone wall, watching the crowd dynamics rather than pushing forward himself.
The emotional reactions painted a clear picture. Celebration clusters formed around certain names. Defeated slumps marked others. The social hierarchies were already reforming based on rankings.
"Top one hundred are exclusively Rank 2 monster hunters," Iris continued. "The scoring system likely favors combat achievement over written performance."
Valen finally moved closer to the boards, scanning for familiar names.
Raylan, Elara, Marcus—all within the top twenty. Respectable showing for the protagonist group.
But they weren't first, second, and third.
Wait. Valen's eyes tracked upward to the top ten names.
Alex Lumis - Eleventh Prince. Rank 1.
Amber Lumis - Fifteenth Princess. Rank 2.
Cassian Lumis - Twelfth Prince. Rank 4.
"The royal family," Valen murmured, recognition clicking into place. "They took the exam with everyone else."
"Indeed, Master. Unlike certain noble descendants who utilized reserved seating." Iris's tone carried pointed amusement.
"Wow. So heroic." Valen's replied with a flat tone.
"Master, I have been saying this repeatedly—you should have participated in the practical examinations."
Valen shook his head slightly, a gesture small enough that nearby applicants wouldn't notice. "The actual reason, Iris? I'm scared to deviate from the original novel plot while I'm still weak."
That's the truth of it. He watched the main character trio accept congratulations from other examinees whom they had saved in the combat test, their heroic reputations already building. I'm not the protagonist. I don't have plot armor. One wrong move, one butterfly effect, and I could end up dead in a side story nobody remembers.
"I need more spells first. Safety nets. Trump cards." His thoughts took on a sharper edge. "Otherwise, an extra like me gets buried in history without anyone noticing."
"Understood, Master." Iris's voice softened, losing its teasing quality. "Once we enter the Academy properly, I will record and decode every spell we can access. We will live to see the end, and the after story, and the eras beyond that."
"Thank you." Valen dazed towards the sky, with a confident smile.
A sharp knock on wood echoed across the clearing. Valen turned to see an Academy messenger approaching his position.
"Valentine Ashford? You're summoned for the final examination. Please proceed to the Grand Hall immediately."
Valen adjusted his new gray robe as he entered, the fabric settling comfortably over his woolen sweater and white shirt. His pants were the same comfortable wool he'd worn for years, paired with worn leather boots that had seen better days but still served their purpose.
Function over fashion. Though I should probably invest in better boots before classes start.
The hall was already occupied. Valen estimated around two hundred students present—the top one hundred from the exam results, plus approximately one hundred more from noble family reserved seats.
The social divide was immediately visible.
The exam performers clustered on the left side, their posture confident, conversations animated. They'd earned their positions through demonstrated skill. The energy around them felt sharp, competitive.
The reserved seating group gathered on the right, their clothing noticeably finer, their bearing more practiced. Less tension in their shoulders, but more calculation in their eyes. They'd been trained for this their entire lives.
Valen found a position near Lydia and sat down.
The murmur of conversation filled the space—speculation about the final test, comparisons of combat stories, subtle status negotiations through careful word choice and body language.
Instructor Aldric and Seth entered through the far doors, walking with purposeful strides toward a raised platform that hadn't been there yesterday. The platform held several tables and at least a dozen brown-cloaked mages standing in formal arrangement.
That's a lot of supervision for a simple test. Valen glanced upward, finding more Academy personnel stationed on the inner balcony, overlooking the entire hall. They're taking this seriously.
Aldric clapped twice, the sharp sound cutting through conversation like a blade.
Silence fell immediately.
"The final examination will assess the quality of your mana cores." Aldric's voice carried authority earned through decades of instruction. "Students with low-quality cores possess limited future potential and will not be accepted into Radiant Academy. Core quality depends primarily on bloodline heritage. However, the Origin Core Potion you consumed during awakening can also elevate your baseline quality significantly."
Seth stepped forward, gesturing toward a large glass container being unveiled on the main table. The liquid inside glowed with soft, pale luminescence—like captured moonlight given physical form.
"The Academy employs Luminescence Mana Potion for quality assessment," Seth explained. "To eliminate bias and ensure fairness, all potion vials have been mixed from this single batch."
Smart. Can't claim preferential treatment if everyone drinks from the same source.
"Each of you will consume one vial," Seth continued. "The speed at which you absorb the special mana into your core directly correlates with your core's quality and potential. Anyone requiring more than one hour for complete absorption will be disqualified. No exceptions."
The murmur returned, louder this time. Nervous energy rippled through both sides of the hall.
"Silence!" Aldric's command snapped attention back to the platform. "Drink the potion, then sit and practice your mana breathing techniques. The process will be obvious to our observers."
Academy assistants moved through the crowd with practiced efficiency, distributing small crystal vials. Each contained perhaps two mouthfuls of the glowing liquid, swirling gently inside its container.
Valen accepted his vial, noting the weight, the temperature, the way the light seemed to pulse with its own rhythm.
Here we go.
Aldric raised his hand, pocket watch gleaming in the other. "Begin!"
Valen drank in one smooth motion. The liquid was cool, slightly sweet, with an aftertaste like spring rain.
Within seconds, his skin began to glow.
Ah. So that's their detection method. Valen glanced down at his hands, watching faint bioluminescence spread across his skin like he'd been touched by phosphorescent algae. Around him, every other student exhibited the same phenomenon—some brighter, some dimmer, but all visibly marked.
"Master," Iris's voice cut through his observations. "We need to disable the Mana Boost temporarily. The elevated regeneration will actually slow your absorption rate—your core won't accept external mana as readily when it's already near capacity."
That makes sense. A full reservoir has no room for more water.
"However," Iris continued, "maintain Mana Sharing. Keep your core at lower mana levels. The deficit will create stronger absorption pull."
"Understood." Valen settled into a comfortable seated position, crossed legs, hands resting palm-up on his knees.
"Disabling Mana Boost now, Master."
The constant comfort of enhanced regeneration faded. Valen felt the absence immediately, like removing a comfy blanket he'd grown accustomed to.
His mana levels began dropping as Mana Sharing continued its work, draining energy through the soul channel to his Soul Crystal.
The Luminescence Mana from the potion responded immediately.
Valen felt the foreign mana flowing toward his core, drawn by the vacuum his technique had created. The sensation was strange—not unpleasant, but distinctly different from his own mana signature. This energy felt ancient, refined, deliberately crafted for analysis rather than combat.
"Now, Master, I need you to relax completely," Iris instructed, her tone shifting to something almost gentle. "The absorption process works best when your mental state is calm and receptive. Think of peaceful moments. Let your mind drift to memories that bring genuine contentment."
Peaceful moments, she says. Valen's analytical mind immediately began cataloging options. Past life memories? This life? What qualifies as peaceful for someone who's lived twice?
But as his mana breathing settled into its rhythm, memories surfaced without conscious direction.
Reading webnovels on the metro after exhausting workdays, the train's rhythm matching his breathing. The weight of a new book in childhood hands, pages crisp and unexplored.
Dawn light through the window of his room in his mansion, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. His mother's hand on his shoulder before she departed for the border, warm and steady and certain.
Iris's voice in his mind, cheerful and loyal, never judging, always supporting.
This life might be dangerous, Valen thought, feeling the Luminescence Mana flowing faster now, integrating smoothly with his core. But it has good moments too.
His skin's glow intensified briefly, then began to fade.
The absorption was accelerating.
Around him, other students sat in various stages of meditation. Some showed visible strain—furrowed brows, clenched jaws, trembling hands. Their glows flickered inconsistently, fighting against absorption rather than facilitating it.
A few appeared serene, their glows steady and gradually diminishing as the special mana found its new home.
Valen kept his breathing measured, his mind balanced between awareness and relaxation. Not forcing the process, but not hindering it either.
Just like Iris said.
His core quality—whatever it might be—would reveal itself soon enough.