The Training Grounds were vast—an open-air coliseum surrounded by magical barriers to prevent stray fireballs from hitting the cafeteria. The sun beat down on them, but the students lined up in perfect formation.
"Everybody gathered?" Cassandra asked, standing on a raised platform.
"YES, PROFESSOR!" the students responded in unison.
"Good. From now on, if you talk about sothing unrelated to the test, you’ll be deducted points. Keep that in mind."
"YES, PROFESSOR!"
Cassandra waved her hand dismissively, looking annoyed. "Don’t answer so loud. It hurts my ears. Just nod or sothing."
She adjusted her glasses. "Today’s test is a little different. It won’t be sparring against each other."
Alex let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Thank god. No combat.
"I will be showcasing a spell," Cassandra continued. "And you need to replicate it."
The relief vanished.
Murmurs erupted instantly. "Replicate it? Just by looking?" "That’s impossible! Only a genius could do that on the first try!" "Is she crazy?"
"Silence," Cassandra said. She didn’t shout, but the temperature in the area seed to drop ten degrees. The murmurs died instantly.
"Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to fully replicate it," she said lazily. "This is a test of your analytical skills. I want to see how well you understand the mana flow, the structure, and the intent. Just do your best."
She walked over to a small table where a strange, bubbling pot was waiting.
"Analytical skills?" Alex’s ears perked up.
He glanced at his stats again in his mind.
[INT: 34] [Calculation Power: 28] [Mana Sensitivity: 75]
Wait a minute.
The gears in his head started turning.
If this was a test of raw power or mana capacity, he would fail instantly. But it wasn’t. It was a test of understanding.
With Sensitivity 75, he could "feel" the magic better than anyone here. With Calculation 28, he could deconstruct the formula faster than they could blink. And with INT 34, he could morize it instantly.
This... I can do this, Alex realized, a grin creeping onto his face. I’m not under-qualified. I’m over-qualified.
He was the Theory Topper, after all. This was his turf.
"The order will be determined by drawing lots," Cassandra announced. "Now, no chatting."
She snapped her fingers.
Bubble. Bubble. POP!
A slip of paper shot out of the bubbling pot and landed in her hand.
Cassandra unfolded it and squinted at the na.
"First up," she announced, her voice echoing across the silent grounds.
"Luna Smith."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the students. Nobody wanted to be the guinea pig, especially when the examiner was Cassandra Thomas.
Luna, however, didn’t flinch. She was a quintessential high-spec extra—blonde, confident, and graceful. She flipped her hair and walked to the front, offering a charming smile that made three guys in the front row blush.
"I’ll begin," Cassandra announced, her tone shifting from bored to professional.
She raised her wand. The air humd.
A small mana crystal, shaped like a rough diamond and about the size of a child’s fist, materialized in the air.
"The test is simple," Cassandra explained, gesturing to the floating crystal. "This crystal is sensitive. I want you to apply a Kinetic Push to launch it. But here’s the catch: You must assist the output, not force it."
She demonstrated.
Hummmm—BANG!
A beam of mana shot from Cassandra’s wand. The crystal rocketed forward, bouncing off the magical barrier with a thunderous boom. It flew an impressive distance before stopping near a red flag Cassandra had conjured.
"This is the maximum distance," Cassandra said, planting a signpost. "If you push too hard, the crystal shatters—disqualification. If you push too soft, it won’t reach the halfway mark—disqualification. This is a test of Control and Efficiency, not raw power."
She conjured a fresh crystal in front of Luna.
"Start whenever you are ready."
Luna took a deep breath. She placed her index finger near the crystal.
Pop.
With a clean, sharp sound, the crystal shot forward. It didn’t have Cassandra’s explosive speed, but it was stable. It flew in a perfect straight line, landing well past the halfway mark, landing in the upper tier zone.
"Rank A," Cassandra announced imdiately. "Good control. No wasted mana."
"Thank you, Professor!" Luna bead, skipping back to her seat.
The bar had been set high.
"Next, Kisefi Lumir."
The tests continued. Cassandra was a machine. She would demonstrate a variation—sotis a curve, sotis a heavy lift—and the students had to replicate the intent.
"Rank B." "Rank E. You almost blew my eyebrows off. Fail." "Rank D. Pathetic." "Rank C. Average."
Cassandra’s grading was ruthless. She didn’t care about their noble titles; she only cared about the mana flow.
To the other students, her judgnts seed arbitrary. But to Alex, watching from the back, it was all data.
Calculation Power: 28.Mana Sensitivity: 75.
To Alex’s eyes, the magic wasn’t mysterious sparkles. It was math. He could see the equations floating in the air. He saw where the students leaked mana, where the structure was unstable, and where they forced the flow.
It looks... childish, Alex realized.
From the perspective of soone who had morized every high-level theory in the ga, these students looked like they were trying to perform surgery with a sledgehamr.
"Next, Hanks."
"Huh?! It’s ?"
Hanks jumped, nearly knocking over his chair. He walked to the front, wiping sweat from his palms. The atmosphere shifted. The whispers grew louder. Hanks was a commoner with no surna, and in Celestia, that ant he had to work twice as hard for half the respect.
"The test is... Stabilization," Cassandra said, tossing a vibrating crystal into the air. "Keep it floating for ten seconds."
Hanks gritted his teeth. He extended his hand, his mana sputtering like a dying engine. The crystal wobbled violently, dipping up and down like a drunk firefly.
"Hhhngggh..." Hanks groaned, his face turning red.
He managed to keep it off the ground for ten seconds, but it was ugly.
"Rank C," Cassandra said, bored. "Barely passed. You lack finesse. Go sit down."
Hanks slumped back to his seat, looking like he’d just run a marathon. "I survived... I actually survived."
"Next, Alex Edelhart."
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