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Chapter 48: Spirit Hearts

Solomon could feel dozens upon dozens of eyes on him.

This was the second ti today he’d had to take off his shirt in a classroom. It was uniquely different from the first.

Unlike earlier in the day, Solomon could feel many eyes upon him as he undressed.

Any knight worth his boots would be vastly different physically from a mage.

Their bodies just don’t grow in the sa manner.

With that information in mind, it was almost impossible to believe that Solomon had the capacity for magical power.

And yet, the phenona he had caused when having his aptitudes tested would be seared into their minds for the rest of their lives.

The magical trajectory of a human was believed to be fixed at birth. The kinds of magic one can possess are wide and varied. Talents can range from a wide variety, from an innate connection to fire to a more complicated and frowned-upon talent like necromancy.

It was rare for a human to display an enhanced affinity for a natural elent at birth. It was even rarer for them to possess multiple.

Solomon had displayed an aptitude for not one, but four different elents in addition to possessing an extrely powerful conjuring ability.

He was a gifted individual seen only once in a millennium. With muscles as staunch as iron and a slew of scars covering his arms, chest, and back, he seed to be a formidable warrior as well.

He singlehandedly challenged everything they knew about magic and the world just by showing up to class.

Magic swordsn were supposed to be laughingstocks. That was the way it had always been.

But nothing about Solomon was funny in any way.

"Alright... let’s begin." Yari closed the door to the secret room behind her.

It was a simple, dark chamber. A violet colored fla subtly illuminated the room for all inside.

The do-like ceiling was painted with characters that were unfamiliar to Solomon’s eyes. But even he, a magical novice, could feel their underlying significance.

The students stood in drawn circles on the ground, spaced around five feet apart from each other.

Yari stepped into the center of their circles and pulled out a large purple gem from within the sleeves of her robe.

It shone with a deep blue inner light that Solomon found eye-catching.

"Now, if you’ll all consu your seeds, we can begin." Yaris said.

’Seed...?’

Solomon unfurled the drawstrings on the velvet bag he’d been given.

Inside sat a small, round piece of what appeared to be wood. It pulsed with a glowing green light as if it were alive...

"...May I ask what it is, instructor?" One of the cadets asked.

Yari’s full lips turned upward in an enchanting smirk.

"Zawadi ya maisha."

No one in the class comprehended the language she had used. Yari could have just told them it was poison for all they knew.

It didn’t exactly help quell the lingering feelings of anxiety among the students.

"No more delays, please. Let’s begin."

The students were still unsure.

But Solomon, unafraid of death, tilted his head back and dropped the seed into his mouth.

With so difficulty, he swallowed. Eliciting even more stares from his fellow classmates.

Determined not to be outdone by soone they were unwilling to acknowledge, the rest of the students began throwing the seeds into their mouths and swallowing.

Solomon looked down at the glyphs around his feet.

A brilliant, green glow had begun to rise from the chalk markings.

At the sa ti, Solomon felt a heat spread from his stomach to his chest.

So of the other students seed to have difficulty breathing. They dropped to their knees shortly after consuming the seed.

Yari brought the gem into her hand towards her lips.

She whispered sothing into the stone that only she could hear.

The gem glowed brightly in response.

Bright blue streams of water pooled from between her fingertips.

Individual streams traveled from Yari’s palm towards the struggling students.

"You must be experiencing quite the agony right now. Fear not, as this is all an unavoidable part of the process. Grit your teeth. Bear it. Earn those haughty, self-important attitudes you all seem to have."

A few of the students couldn’t bear the strain.

There was a series of wet popping sounds as three of their hearts exploded within their chests.

Their bodies twitched once, twice, and then never again.

Yari only glanced at them before she continued her ritual.

The water spilling from her palm crept towards her living students.

Solomon, who was also struggling with the process, was vaguely aware of sothing covering his chest.

The waters Yari produced entered the pores on his skin. Burrowing deeper into his chest and giving his body a strange sensation.

The pain was no more, but his mind was slightly foggy. He thought for sure that his body had been sent to drift aimlessly down a river.

"I have lent you a hand of goodwill, but do not lose focus." Yari’s voice said sharply.

"Concentrate on the surge of energy in your chest. Do not let it sit there and accumulate. Pass it through the vessels of your heart and strengthen the tissue. Imagine the energy seeping into your heart as you circulate it from one chamber to another."

Two more students died spontaneously. Again, Yari ignored them.

This many deaths was still fine. She still had eleven students left.

The rest of the class concentrated on following Yari’s instructions to the letter.

It was much more difficult than their initial estimation.

So students sprang bloody leaks from their noses or eyes due to their absurd level of concentration.

There were monts where Solomon felt himself fading in and out of consciousness. He thought he had developed a splendid pain tolerance ever since childhood, but there was no way he could have ever hoped to prepare himself for this.

It was an agony second only to the experience of wearing the armor for the first ti. And as Solomon tried to overco the hurdle in front of him, he suddenly heard the sound of a rich, intimate laughter that only he would have known.

"How very disloyal of you, War. Don’t you know that you’ve already given yourself to ?"

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