Chapter Three – What Did I Do Wrong, (Mile)?
(Michael) was waiting, drinking his tea calmly.
He sat on his seat, a high-backed, plush armchair that seemed to absorb sound. The room was a circular observatory, walls lined with softly glowing maps and silent, swirling orbs of scrying mist.
In the next second, he felt the flow of spiritual energy inside the magic circle.
A faint hum vibrated through the soles of his boots, a subtle shift in the air pressure. The teacup in his hand trembled ever so slightly, sending tiny, concentric ripples across the surface of the dark liquid.
And directly, a young man with white hair and red eyes appeared from nowhere.
The arrival was marked by a soft pop of displaced air and a flash of blue light that painted the room in stark shadows for an instant.
That young man seemed calm and very formal.
He stood with a posture that screamed forced nonchalance, as if he'd been interrupted while contemplating profound boredom.
He stood indifferently and looked at (Michael).
His red eyes swept the room, taking in the details with a speed that masked his internal panic. They settled on the green-haired, green-eyed teacher.
In that moment, (Michael) couldn't help but wonder.
He took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, the sound a soft slurp in the quiet room.
"Well, that was very fast. Did (Mile) finish examining this boy and send him to me already?"
His internal monologue was as measured as his actions. The boy had been with (Mile) for, what, a minute? Tops.
In any case, (Michael) didn't think much.
He placed his porcelain cup back onto its saucer with a precise clink.
Unlike (Mile), (Michael) was calmer in terms of being surprised.
Where (Mile) might raise an eyebrow in intellectual delight, (Michael)'s emotional spectrum ran from 'mildly interested' to 'placidly detached'.
He doesn't get surprised much.
Surprise was an inefficient use of emotional energy. Things happened. One adapted.
Rather, he is just calm and always acts with coldness.
A chill seemed to emanate from him, not hostile, but simply… absent of warmth. It was the cold of deep space, of logical conclusions.
Especially in front of things he doesn't understand.
And a boy passing (Mile)'s infamous maze test in record time definitely qualified as a 'thing he didn't understand.' His response was not confusion, but a cool recalibration of parameters.
He looked at the boy, his green eyes unblinking.
"So, you are the student who succeeded in (Mile)'s test."
His voice was flat, smooth like a polished river stone.
"Since you are here, it means you are ready to enter my exam."
He paused, letting the weight of the statement hang. The boy just stared, his face a mask of polite blankness that (Michael) found… intriguing.
"But you must pay close attention."
(Michael) leaned forward slightly, the leather of his chair emitting a soft creak.
"My test is one where it is very easy for anyone to fail."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. It was not a friendly smile. It was the smile of a scientist about to release a specimen into a new maze.
"Therefore, do your best. Do you understand?"
He didn't wait for a verbal answer. Understanding was assumed, or irrelevant.
After saying this, (Michael) raised his hand.
The movement was fluid, practiced. His fingers traced a complex pattern in the air, leaving faint, emerald-green afterimages that hung for a second before dissolving with a sound like rustling leaves.
And formed a circle made of sorcery.
It materialized in the air before (Leon), a perfect ring of shimmering green runes that spun lazily, humming with a low, resonant frequency.
And after that, a light engulfed the young man.
It wasn't a harsh light, but a cool, green radiance that seeped into the space around (Leon), swallowing him whole with a sound like a gentle whoosh of wind through tall grass.
Before he disappeared again from the place.
One moment he was in the observatory, the next there was only the faint scent of ozone and tea, and the slowly fading green circle.
In another place, in a land resembling a forest, (Leon) was unable to believe what was happening in front of him.
The transition left him stumbling forward a step, his boots crunching on a thick layer of pine needles and soft moss. The air was cool, damp, and thick with the scent of soil, decaying leaves, and something floral.
He had expected to fail the first exam.
That had been the cornerstone of his entire, beautiful plan. The foundation upon which his lazy future was built.
But he had passed in an exaggerated way.
The memory was a fresh bruise on his psyche. He hadn't just passed; he'd been praised. He'd been rewarded. It was an obscenity.
And the teacher hadn't allowed him to explain.
He could still see (Mile)'s placid, approving face, a mental image that made his eye twitch. He hadn't even been given a chance to open his mouth and shout his desire for glorious failure.
He didn't even want to succeed.
The desire was a physical ache, a yearning more intense than any ambition.
He even wanted to kneel and beg him to make him fail.
In his mind's eye, he had seen himself prostrating before (Mile), clutching the hem of his robe, weeping dramatically about his own inadequacy. It would have been a masterpiece of reverse-psychology.
But in the end, what happened, happened.
Fate, it seemed, was a cruel comedian with a terrible sense of timing.
When (Leon) saw the other teacher, whom he didn't know himself—
His brain had been scrambling to form a plea, a protest, any string of words that would stop this madness.
(Leon) was on the verge of saying something to the teacher with green hair and green eyes.
He had drawn a breath, his chest expanding, his vocal cords tightening, ready to unleash a torrent of self-deprecation.
But before he could say something, that man transported him to this place.
The interruption was so abrupt it felt like a physical gag. His planned words died in his throat with a choked sensation.
Which resembled a green forest full of trees.
Tall, ancient pines stretched towards a sky dappled with sunlight filtering through a dense canopy. The light fell in shifting, golden shafts, alive with dancing motes of dust.
In addition to the fresh air.
It was disgustingly pure. It filled his lungs, invigorating and clean, a stark contrast to the smoky, scheming air of the Felix estate or the tense atmosphere of the exam hall.
(Leon) regained his calm and thought quietly and simply.
He forced his breathing to slow. In. Out. The scent of pine helped, ironically. Panic wouldn't return his failed failure.
"It could just be luck."
He muttered to the trees, which offered no argument.
"How could I succeed now in the second test?"
He gestured broadly at the encompassing wilderness.
"Since I am in this test, and according to what the teacher and supervisor of this test was saying, this test should be difficult, shouldn't it?"
A test where it was "very easy to fail." (Michael)'s own words! A beacon of hope!
Then he remembered what he did in the previous test.
The memory played back: him sitting, doing nothing, being hailed as a genius. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
And became more determined.
His red eyes narrowed, gleaming with renewed, if misguided, purpose. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking.
"Since standing in your place, sitting, and waiting for the teacher to expel you wasn't a good idea in the first exam..."
He kicked a nearby pinecone, sending it skittering into the underbrush with a series of dry ticks.
"...Then it's time to take another route to fail this test!"
The declaration was firm, echoing slightly in the quiet forest. A bird, startled, took flight from a branch with a frantic flutter of wings and an indignant squawk.
After that, (Leon) found the way he should use to fail this test.
His mind, now operating in full anti-achievement mode, began to whir like a machine designed for self-sabotage.
His previous test had made him sad.
A profound, soul-deep melancholy settled over him. He had been this close to paradise.
Especially since he had passed it in a very strange way.
He replayed it again. Sitting. That was it. Just... sitting.
"I mean, I was just standing in my place! How could I pass that test?"
He appealed to the forest for logic. A squirrel chittered back unsympathetically.
"Isn't it a test that requires sensing to know the way?"
He threw his hands up in the air, a gesture of pure exasperation.
"But all that doesn't matter anymore now."
He let his arms fall to his sides with a soft slap against his thighs. The past was a tragedy. The future was still malleable.
"Since standing in your place isn't a good idea, then it's time for movement!"
He pointed a dramatic finger down a random forest path.
"Of course, this is a vast forest, and it's easy to get lost."
A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. The plan was beautiful in its simplicity.
"And when the teacher realizes I am lost, he will end the test quickly and tell me the bad news."
He could already hear the dismissive tone. "You have failed due to inability to navigate. Goodbye." Music to his ears.
"And of course, I will pretend to be sad..."
He practiced a crestfallen expression, letting his shoulders slump, his lower lip jut out slightly.
"...While inside, I will laugh a lot."
A low, gleeful chuckle escaped him, sounding slightly unhinged in the tranquil woods.
(Leon), after making his decision, began to look at the green forest.
His gaze swept across the towering trees, the tangled undergrowth, the dappled light and deep shadows. He was a general surveying a battlefield of potential failure.
And tried to assess it to understand if there was any way to succeed in this test.
This was crucial. To avoid success, one must first understand the path to it. It was like defusing a bomb by carefully studying the wiring diagram so you could cut the wrong wire.
Of course, he does not want success.
The thought was his mantra. I do not want success. I want to fail gloriously and retire rich.
Therefore, he must know what are the means by which one can succeed in this test.
He tapped his temple. Think, (Leon). Think like a winner so you can do the opposite.
And then do the opposite of those things.
The formula was elegant: Identify Victory Condition -> Invert -> Achieve Glorious Defeat.
And meanwhile, while (Leon) was looking at the trees, he heard a sound coming from above.
It was a high, piercing cry that cut through the forest murmur—Kreee-ah!
He raised his head.
The movement was sharp, his neck craning back, white hair falling away from his face.
From above, there was an eagle flying in the air.
Its wings were broad and powerful, catching the sunlight as it circled in a slow, majestic arc against the patch of visible sky. Its shadow swept over the forest floor like a fleeting omen.
It seemed to be heading in the direction where (Michael) could see a high mountain.
In the distance, visible through a break in the trees, a formidable, snow-capped peak scraped the sky. It looked important. It looked like a destination.
(Leon) smiled a wide smile.
The sight of the eagle, so noble, so purposeful, was like a divine signpost. It was practically screaming 'GO HERE TO SUCCEED!'
And thought,
"This is certainly a hint! Since this eagle is leading me to that mountain, then all I have to do is..."
He paused, the gears in his mind turning with a faint, audible click in his imagination.
"...Not go there."
The conclusion was brilliant. Obviously, the noble eagle was part of the test, a guide for the worthy. To follow it was to walk the path of success.
Therefore, to fail, one must defy it.
He turned around.
His boots pivoted on the soft earth, grinding a small patch of moss into the soil with a squelching shhhhk.
And his gaze went to the direction that headed towards a lake.
From the opposite direction of the mountain, he could now hear it—the faint, musical sound of running water, a constant, gentle shhhhh that promised a different kind of destination.
He could hear the sound of flowing water from it.
It was a soothing, liquid whisper, the antithesis of the eagle's majestic cry.
Advanced in that effort, he sighed in admiration.
He placed a hand over his heart, struck by his own cleverness.
"I am a genius. I know now. I must go in the opposite direction of the signals I receive."
He nodded, affirming his own brilliance to the uncaring trees.
"I want to know now, how in the hell will I succeed in this test?"
The rhetorical question was laced with smug confidence. By inverting the obvious, he was building an impregnable fortress of failure.
And after becoming confident with these thoughts, (Leon) set off running towards the lake.
He didn't just walk. He ran. With purpose. With the fervent energy of a man sprinting towards his own ruin. His feet pounded the forest path, thump-thump-thump, kicking up small clouds of leaf litter and dirt. Branches whipped past his face with soft swishes. He was a bolt of white-haired determination aimed squarely at disaster.
...
In front of the screen, (Michael) was drinking his cup of tea.
He was in his observatory, but one of the swirling orbs now showed a crystal-clear image of the forest and the small, running figure of (Leon). The orb hovered silently, emitting a soft, blue glow.
He was looking at the student.
His expression was, as ever, unreadably placid.
And he was looking at the eagle that was flying towards the mountain.
In the scrying image, the majestic bird was a tiny speck circling the distant peak.
That eagle was something known in many places as one that helps in finding the way.
Throughout the empire, from the lowest village to the highest court, the golden mountain eagle was a universal symbol of guidance, truth, and noble purpose. Children's tales were full of them.
Therefore, (Michael) had designed the exam.
A subtle, clever twist. The people who follow this eagle will fail the exam.
It was a test of independent thought, of questioning ingrained cultural assumptions. The true path was never the one brightly signposted by tradition.
He had watched the student named (Leon) looking at the eagle.
In the orb, he saw the boy's face tilt up, saw the moment of observation, the slight narrowing of those unusual red eyes.
Before he turned around and went towards the lake.
The movement in the scrying orb was decisive. One moment looking at the eagle, the next, a full-bodied pivot and a sprint in the opposite direction.
This surprising situation made (Michael) stop drinking his tea.
The porcelain cup halted halfway to his lips. A single droplet of tea fell from the rim, landing on the saucer with a tiny, clear plink.
And frown.
His green eyebrows drew together slightly, the first real sign of active thought his face had shown all day. It wasn't anger. It was intense curiosity.
"Well. This is truly surprising."
His voice was a low murmur in the quiet room.
"Did he discover the secret of this test?"
He leaned closer to the scrying orb, his eyes intent.
"Going to the lake means he will reach the first part of my exam."
The lake was, in fact, the true starting point. The eagle led to a sheer cliff face with no passage—a literal dead end meant to waste time and signal a failure to think critically.
"But will he be able to discover it?"
The lake itself was only the beginning. The real challenges lay beyond.
"But even if he can't, it is interesting that someone uncovered the eagle's trick this quickly."
A slow, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips again. This one held a faint trace of genuine, cold appreciation.
The eagles, for the people in the empire, are a guide that can be trusted to reach their goal.
It was woven into the fabric of society. Trust the eagle, find your way. A proverb, a habit, a crutch.
And known widely in all regions.
From the frozen north to the southern jungles, the symbolism was consistent. (Michael)'s test preyed on this universal truth.
But of course, (Leon) did not know these matters.
The irony was thick enough to taste. The one person in the empire culturally ignorant enough to question the eagle was the one person trying desperately to fail.
Because in the end, he wasn't from this world.
His Earthly mind held no sacred reverence for giant guiding birds. To him, it was just a big bird pointing at a big mountain. Suspicious.
And even the memories he obtained from his previous life as (Leon de Felix) were not arranged properly to understand such popular customs.
The original (Leon)'s memories were a jumbled, trauma-filled mess, strong on familial disdain and weak on societal folklore. The knowledge of eagle symbolism was buried under layers of adolescent misery and self-loathing.
Therefore, he went directly to the direction of the lake.
It was an act of brilliant, accidental correctness born from monumental ignorance and a dedicated quest for failure.
But for (Michael), who was watching them from the magic display screen, was sure that student had understood the essence of the exam.
In the orb, the boy's actions looked deliberate. The glance at the eagle, the smirk, the decisive turn. It all screamed 'I see through your ruse!'
And therefore took this decision.
He hadn't just wandered towards the lake; he had chosen it after rejecting the eagle. A conscious, analytical act.
Therefore, and for the first time, he sighed.
It was a soft exhalation, a whoosh of air that fogged the surface of the scrying orb for a second.
And said,
"It seems students these days are smart and understand how to use their minds."
The words held a note of dry, academic respect. He didn't particularly like riddles himself—they were (Mile)'s domain—but he appreciated applied intelligence.
He didn't like puzzles, but he always liked to use the customs that people can make mistakes in or follow generally.
He was a sociologist of failure, an architect of cultural blind spots. His tests were less about magic and more about psychology.
Therefore, he designed an exam in this way.
The forest, the eagle, the mountain, the lake—all were pieces set on a board to see who would follow the herd and who would break away.
So he could test if a person is capable of overcoming their primitive ideas and the things they are comfortable with.
The unexamined habit, the unchallenged assumption—these were the true enemies of progress, magical or otherwise.
On the path to find a correct path they can walk on.
...
Meanwhile, (Leon) was about to reach the lake.
After a quarter of an hour of continuous running, his lungs burning, his legs aching, he burst through a final wall of ferns and stumbled into a clearing.
He reached the lake.
The water was a vast, mirror-still expanse of breathtaking blue, reflecting the sky and the encircling pines with perfect clarity. It was peacefully, infuriatingly beautiful.
He looked at it and was puzzled.
He had expected… something. A sign of failure. A teacher waiting with a clipboard and a frown. Maybe a sign that said 'WRONG WAY, IDIOT.'
But there was only serene, mocking nature.
But after that, he saw some symbols that were written on the ground.
At the water's edge, etched into the flat stones as if by some ancient, patient hand, were glowing runes. They pulsed with a soft, blue light.
He crouched down, his knees popping softly, and peered at them.
"Welcome to the one who reached this place. To pass this path, you must understand magic and spirit."
(Leon) read the words aloud, his voice echoing slightly over the water. He did not understand the meaning of these words.
They were vague, mystical nonsense. 'Understand magic and spirit'? He was the guy who failed basic spiritual sensing! This was perfect!
But he arrived at something when he heard a loud sound.
A deep, melodic chime resonated through the clearing, seeming to come from the lake itself. Booooong.
In addition to a ringing sound above him.
Ding-ding-ding! Like cheerful, magical wind chimes.
A voice, amplified and impersonal, echoed from the sky:
"Congratulations to the student for reaching the first level of the exam!"
(Leon) was astonished.
The word slammed into him like a physical blow. He jerked upright, his head whipping around, searching for the source of the voice.
He was stunned that he managed to reach this place.
He looked at the congratulatory runes, then at the beautiful, traitorous lake. This wasn't a failure point. This was a checkpoint.
Unable to understand what was happening.
His brilliant plan of getting lost was in shambles. He wasn't lost; he was, apparently, exactly where he was supposed to be.
How could he reach the exam location?
His brain scrambled, trying to rewire the situation. The exam location was supposed to be on top of one of the mountains in this place, of course!
Because he didn't understand that he, while avoiding the eagle, was going to the exam location unintentionally.
The horrific, hilarious truth dawned on him with the subtlety of a collapsing glacier. In his dedicated, fervent effort to do the opposite of what seemed right, he had, by the test's inverted logic, done exactly what was right.
He had outsmarted himself into success. Again.
He stood by the lake, the congratulatory chimes still hanging in the air, the water sparkling mockingly, the weight of his second unwanted accomplishment settling on his shoulders like a leaden cloak.
The universe, it seemed, was committed to this cruel joke.
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Thank you for reading this chronicle of spectacular self-sabotage! Your belief in his inevitable failure is what keeps this tragedy afloat.
❤️ (From the Author, who is also starting to feel bad for him)
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