Chapter Two – I Can't Believe I Passed the First Exam
(Mile) was one of the chosen teachers.
He stood apart from the others, a man who seemed carved from quiet contemplation rather than raw magical power. His robes were impeccably neat, not a thread out of place.
He was one of those people who loved precision and intelligence.
His office was a testament to this—a place of ordered shelves, calibrated astrolabes, and intricate logic puzzles instead of trophies of magical combat.
Unlike the other teachers who preferred brute force.
You could hear the difference in the halls; the others' classrooms echoed with booms and cracks, while (Mile)'s hummed with the soft whir of enchanted gears and the scratch of thoughtful quills.
He loved seeing the intelligence of students.
A genuine, rare smile would touch his lips when a pupil solved a problem not with power, but with a clever twist of thought.
For this test, he had used a magical system designed to disrupt sensory abilities.
The maze he had built aimed to disorient those who came and entered it.
The walls pulsed with a faint, dizzying energy meant to scramble spiritual senses, to turn inner guidance into static. It was a beautiful, confounding piece of spellwork.
Of course, such a test also needed a good solution for everything to be in its place.
The gears of a puzzle must mesh perfectly; a test without a solution was merely cruelty, and (Mile) was not cruel, just exacting.
The way to pass this test was simply for the student who entered the test to not move.
The solution was an exercise in counter-intuition, in resisting the primal urge to do something. It was a test of patience and perception, not power.
The student must stand still in the maze for one minute.
Sixty seconds of perfect, motionless inaction in the face of bewildering, endless paths.
After that, automatically, they would exit and their test would be concluded.
A simple, elegant fail-safe woven into the maze's core enchantment.
"...Did this student discover the truth of my test?"
(Mile) murmured to himself, his fingers steepled under his chin. The observation orb before him showed the white-haired boy sitting cross-legged, a picture of serene indolence.
(Mile) was not an easy person.
He had a mind like a steel trap, layered and complex. He was aware that students who are 15 years old usually are not content to stay still in their place.
At that age, the blood runs hot, the ego is fragile, and the need to prove oneself is a screaming impulse.
They are always impulsive and use brute force.
He had seen hundreds of them charge into the maze, fireballs at the ready, only to be led in dizzying circles until their time ran out.
Therefore, when he saw a student sitting in the middle of his specific maze, he was astonished for moments.
In the orb, the boy hadn't even explored. He had simply... sat down. (Mile) blinked, adjusting his glasses with a soft click.
But after that, he smiled.
It started as a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, then bloomed into a full, warm grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes behind his spectacles.
He greatly appreciated the scene.
The sheer, beautiful absurdity of it. The flawless execution of inaction.
"It seems I have found a good student."
His voice was a pleased whisper in the silent observation room. He leaned forward, his chair emitting a soft creak of interest.
In the next second, inside the maze, (Leon) was enjoying sitting.
He had found a surprisingly comfortable spot of non-ground. It was quite pleasant, really. No running, no thinking, just… sitting.
He had sat until now for one minute.
He was counting in his head, each second a stepping stone toward his life of luxury. Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…
But while he was sitting, a strange light began to coil beneath his body.
It was a soft, golden luminescence, like liquid honey mixed with sunlight, spiraling outward from the point where he made contact with the maze floor.
Of course, he didn't notice.
He was looking upwards, admiring the shimmering, illusory sky of the maze, dreaming of beach resorts and piles of gold.
But in the next moment, he saw this light reflecting in his red eyes.
The golden glow painted the lower edges of his vision. Surprised, he looked down.
"Huh?"
A soft grunt of confusion escaped him.
He smiled and said to himself,
"This is amazing. It seems I will indeed be expelled."
The light! It had to be a signal! A magical mark of failure, a beacon for the teachers to come and collect their trash.
His heart sang with triumphant glee.
As for how he guessed that? Of course, it was certain that there were people monitoring him while he was inside the test.
It was only logical. Big brother is always watching, especially in magic school.
Since they see that I am slacking off and doing nothing to get out of the maze, they certainly won't keep me in it.
They would obviously take me out.
They would surely tell me with all seriousness and harshness that I am not suitable for the academy and will throw me out.
After assessing the situation in his mind, he couldn't help but cheer for his own intelligence.
A mental pat on the back. Well done, (Leon). Well done.
In the next second, he was inside a magic circle.
The golden light erupted around him, not in a harsh flash, but in a warm, engulfing whoosh that tingled pleasantly on his skin.
He was looking at the students, and they were astonished.
The world resolved around him. He was back in the examination hall, standing on a intricate circular sigil etched into the stone floor. The sudden transition made his stomach lurch slightly.
"What is happening? Did the test end this quickly?"
A student with freckles gasped, his voice too loud in the stunned silence.
"Only one minute has passed!"
Another student, who was also surprised by the matter, chimed in, his tone dripping with scorn he believed was shared by all.
"He is certainly the disgrace, as expected. The rumors were correct. This fool is just a nothing and is pitiful."
Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. They were all drawing their conclusions.
(Leon)'s face appeared calm and without any reaction.
He wore the perfect mask of stoic acceptance of his fate. A slight, dignified downturn of the lips. The look of a man walking to the gallows for a crime he totally committed.
But in his mind, he was dancing.
A full-blown, confetti-and-streamers mental celebration.
"That's right. This is what should happen. Now I will be expelled."
He could almost feel the weight of the future gold coins in his hands.
After that, (Leon) looked at Teacher (Mile).
His gaze was steady, ready to receive his sentencing with what he hoped looked like weary resignation.
(Mile) was looking calmly at him.
His expression was unreadable, a placid lake of academic detachment.
After that, (Mile) raised his hand.
The movement was slow, deliberate. A simple lift of his arm, sleeve rustling softly.
And a spiritual force spread directly in the examination hall.
It wasn't oppressive or loud. It was a wave of quieting authority, a subtle shhh that washed over the students, silencing the whispers and the rustling of robes. The very air seemed to still, charged with anticipation.
The present students all fell silent.
The silence was thick, heavy, pregnant with collective schadenfreude. You could hear a pin drop, or more fittingly, a career end.
After that, (Mile) advanced with a cold calm towards (Leon).
His footsteps were measured, each one a soft, precise tap on the stone floor that echoed in the hush.
He became close to him.
He stopped a few feet away, looking down at (Leon) through his spectacles, which glinted in the magical light of the hall.
Some students were smiling disdainfully.
Smirks spread like stains. Elbows were nudged. They were expecting that (Mile) would reprimand (Leon) and expel him directly from the academy.
This was the moment. The glorious, public unmasking of the fraud.
(Leon) was feeling the same feeling.
His pulse quickened, not with fear, but with excitement. Yes, yes, come on. Say the words. "You have failed. Get out."
And he was waiting for these words on pins and needles.
Or rather, on hot coals. He could barely stand the delicious suspense.
Then (Mile) spoke.
His voice, calm and clear, rang in the quiet hall. It didn't boom; it simply occupied the space, leaving no room for other sounds.
"Well done, student (Leon)."
A pause. A beat of utter, profound silence where (Leon)'s brain failed to parse the words.
"You are the best student I have met in a long time."
Inside (Leon)'s skull, a single, record-scratching SCREEEECH of cognitive dissonance echoed.
"You have passed my test in record time."
(Mile)'s words hung in the air, solid and irrefutable, like letters carved in stone.
Unconsciously, (Leon) began to prepare himself to leave the academy and live his life full of luxury.
His body tensed, ready to turn, to march out the grand doors, his head held high in mock shame. His mind was already designing his new villa.
But after his brain began to process the words (Mile) had said, he was struck with astonishment.
It was like running full-tilt into a glass wall he hadn't seen. His mental preparations shattered.
And he didn't know what to say.
His jaw went slightly slack. His red eyes, usually so sharp, glazed over with pure, unadulterated confusion.
But (Mile) continued his speech, seemingly oblivious to the internal cataclysm he had just triggered.
"You are the first student to pass the test at this speed. Therefore, you will receive a reward after the exams conclude, when you enter the academy."
(Mile) gave a slight, approving nod, as if bestowing a great honor.
The other students who listened to this were struck with astonishment.
The collective gasp that swept the room was a physical thing, a sudden intake of cold air. Eyes bulged. Jaws dropped. The disdainful smirks froze, then melted into expressions of sheer, uncomprehending shock.
They were wondering if they were hearing incorrectly.
Was the son of the Felix family, known as the disgrace... had he passed (Mile)'s test?
(Mile), known as the Riddle Sorcerer, for whom it was difficult to praise anyone?
He was, in fact, known to be the coldest of sorcerers in terms of expectations.
But now he was praising this disgrace?
This made the attendees unable to endure more than that.
The pressure of the contradiction was too great. Their worldview of (Leon) as a useless lump cracked audibly.
And they released low sounds, not believing.
Whispers of "What?", "How?", "Impossible!" buzzed like angry hornets, breaking the earlier silence.
But (Mile) looked at them then.
His gaze swept over the crowd, and it was like a frost settling. The whispers died instantly, choked off.
He said,
"(Leon de Felix) has passed my test in the fastest time on record. Now, since he has passed the test, he can proceed to the next test."
He gestured with a flick of his wrist towards a different archway, one glowing with a soft blue light.
"While you... will begin your tests as well. Any candidate who wishes to do so may go to the test now."
His tone made it clear this was not a suggestion, but a redirection. The show was over. Back to work.
And without looking at them again, he looked at (Leon), who was still dazed, unaware that he had passed the test.
(Leon) stood there, a statue of bewilderment, his brilliant escape plan lying in smoking ruins at his feet.
(Mile) said,
"You may proceed to the next test, of course. Teacher (Michael) will be waiting for a qualified student like you. I am sure you will pass the test easily, student (Leon)."
The words "qualified" and "easily" landed on (Leon) like physical blows, each one driving him deeper into a pit of horrified realization.
After that, before (Leon) could clarify—before he could scream "WAIT, THERE'S BEEN A MISTAKE! I WAS TRYING TO FAIL!"—he had disappeared from the place.
(Mile) activated the magic circle that was beneath him.
The sigil under (Leon)'s feet flared with a bright, businesslike blue light, accompanied by a resonant HUMMM that vibrated in his teeth.
And transported him to the next test.
There was no fanfare, no chance for protest. One moment he was in the hall, the next he was engulfed in a sensation of being pulled through a tube, a dizzying woosh of displaced air the last thing he heard before he rematerialized elsewhere, his plans in absolute, catastrophic tatters.
He was gone.
And left behind was a hall full of students questioning reality, a teacher with a profoundly satisfied smile, and the terrifying, inescapable fact:
(Leon de Felix) had, against all his hopes and dedicated effort, passed.
──────────────────────
Thank you for reading, dear audience to this tragedy of errors! Your continued presence is the only reward I need.
❤️ (From the deeply amused Author)
──────────────────────