This is it. Sixteen hours of training every day for the last month, all for this: The Academy Qualifying Exams.
They only take place once a year. This is my only chance.
Blocking the sun with his hand, Arthur looked up at the thin, pike-like structure stretching from one of the several towers that made up the campus. Even within the most advanced city of the strongest nation, the Academy felt foreign—it was simply greater.
It contained several buildings, each as large as a castle; no pair of eyes could view the entirety of it at once. It towered over everything surrounding it, dwarfing even the sun.
Sweat dripped from his chin as he walked. The sun struck fiercely through the clear sky. He moved into the shade, but eventually, the paths narrowed to one. All he could do was follow as the colony of ants around him marched forward.
Luckily, they were heading in the same direction: the Academy.
Today is supposed to be the last group taking the examination.
But there must be more than five thousand people here!
"Sorry about that," Arthur said as he squeezed past two potential students.
Of this group of thousands—and the tens of thousands who took the exam the nine days prior—only five hundred would be selected for the School of Magic. That's the way it had always been.
Of these, the twenty applicants with the highest scores would have the privilege of enrolling in the Honor Class. The strongest and most talented, given the most resources, destined for greatness.
There's no way I'll be part of those twenty as I currently am.
For now, my only goal is to pass.
But I may fail to achieve even that.
He jerked to a halt as momentum betrayed him; his force transferred to the boy ahead, who crumbled to the ground.
The boy's lower back became partially exposed as he fell. It was nearly entirely black.
Taking a closer look, the blackness wasn't uniform. Instead, it resulted from countless markings overlapping, each with a unique circle, creating a dense web that seemed to trap the light itself.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
What is that black stuff under his clothes—
"Cedric? Is that you?"
The boy brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up. "Oh, hey Arthur!"
The twins were forced to continue their conversation while walking, the crowd behind them pressuring them to move.
"I haven't seen you in over a week. Mom and Dad are worried about you."
Arthur's eyes avoided the direction of his jovial counterpart. "I have been doing fine."
"That's great! Are you nervous about the test?"
Stupid Blessings. Even after a month, I still haven't received a single one.
I left home just to get away from him. I lived in the forest for a week to be closer to the spirits, hoping they would acknowledge me.
Every day I prayed for hours to the Spirit God, the Celestial God, and all spirits, in complete silence.
It was all in vain.
"Yes," he said, but the expression on his face wasn't fear, nor was it confidence. "I'm also extremely nervous, but I'm sure we'll both pass if we give it our all."
My all? I've done all that I could, and my efforts amounted to nothing.
Even if I get a perfect score on the Written section, without any blessings, I'll have to score perfectly and outperform half the applicants in every other section just to scrape by.
He glared at Cedric with viperous eyes.
And while I struggle, you will be given a seat in the Honor Class even if you receive a zero in every other section.
"What number are you?" Cedric asked, holding his ticket to his chest.
Arthur replied dryly. "Three hundred twenty-one."
"That's so cool! My spot is three hundred twenty! We'll be taking our exams right next to each other!"
Look at how confidently you speak. It's as if you don't care that strangers can hear everything you're saying.
You have everything I want. You're so perfect. I want to hit you.
The crowd began to form into five uniform lines as they entered the building and neared the Registration Desks. The twins joined a line, sorting themselves by number.