Chapter 45

[Nice to meet you. My name is Joseph Senit.]

Julien gazed at the figure seated in a fragment of the past.

Features that were the spitting image of Mikhail's.

A face as lonely and cold as a sculpted snowfield, shadowed by a fragile unease whose meaning he could never quite grasp.

The eternal great mage who governed the North.

[Julien. I promise you. Even among the illustrious lineage of the South, you possess ability—mana—that would rank among the very best. However.]

...A figure he admired, and could no longer meet.

Lord Joseph.

Julien slowly opened his eyes.

The carefree grin that had sat on his lips moments ago was gone. Only a bitter smile remained.

His head drooped, heavy and limp.

I'm sorry. I don't think... I can become a proper mage anymore.

Julien raised a withered hand, clenched it, then unclenched it. Clumps of dirt caked to his palm crumbled loose and pattered to the ground.

He stared at his rough, gritty palm for a long moment, then lifted his head again and pressed forward.

His steps carried on for another five minutes before stopping. He'd arrived at a secluded corner surrounded by dense trees and overgrown weeds.

"......"

Julien hopped into the thicket, scanned his surroundings, then pulled a beacon from his inner pocket.

A presence-detection magic tool he'd bought from Haeron's shop.

He hadn't had enough money for the more precise model, so he'd settled for the standard version—but in truth, the only people likely to come through here were patrolling staff or the occasional lost wanderer.

Basic performance was more than enough.

Julien set up the tool around the perimeter, then laid out the contents of his bag across the ground.

Clatter.

A dozen or so relics tumbled free. Julien scanned the aged objects, then reached for one in particular.

The ancient magical civilization—an era when both usable spells and available mana had been incomparably greater than the present day.

Artifacts originating from that era bore mana capacity and resistance befitting the age that birthed them.

Several times higher than any modern magic tool.

Clink.

Julien gripped a cross-shaped protective charm. He channeled mana into his palm where it pressed against the copper-colored surface.

The charm trembled faintly, as if startled by the sudden influx—but only for an instant.

It soon emitted a dim glow and began devouring the mana pouring into it.

Tsssss...

Julien let out a low breath and watched his fingertips spill sky-blue mana in violent surges.

As things stood, he couldn't reveal his true magic to anyone in the academy—no, anyone in the entire kingdom.

The only thing he was permitted to show was the level of a bottom-tier failure.

"......"

But the mana flowing from deep in his chest only boiled hotter the harder he tried to press it down.

The impulse to release that pressure—to answer the mana's call—piled higher with every passing day.

If he left things as they were, sooner or later the amplified desire and mana would devour his reason whole.

To prevent the worst, he had no choice but to bleed off the buildup in small doses, exactly like this...

Crack.

That was when it happened. The protective charm seized once, violently—then crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye.

"Wh—?"

Julien's eyes flew wide at the sight.

He stared blankly at the fragments trickling through his fingers, his barely parted lips trembling.

Something was wrong. This relic wasn't the kind that broke this easily.

It should have absorbed at least another ten seconds of his mana—

"......"

A terrible premonition crept in without warning.

Julien clenched his fist and bit down hard on his lip. He snatched up another relic from the ground.

Then, just as before, he channeled mana into it.

—Fsssht.

—Fsssh. Fsht.

The second and third relics met the same fate. They barely held before crumbling apart, utterly spent.

Julien stared blankly at the debris raining down to the ground.

His blood ran ice-cold. What the situation pointed to was unmistakable.

His mana—all of it—had grown stronger than before.

At this rate, it wouldn't be long before even relics couldn't handle his mana anymore.

And after that... what was he supposed to do?

Thump... Thump...

As if mocking the situation he was trapped in, his heartbeat grew louder and clearer. The ringing in his ears, too.

...He had never hated anything more.

"Hh..."

Julien let several hollow breaths slip out, then raised both trembling hands to cover his face.

Dry, ragged air passed through the gaps in his teeth.

Before long, a voice—scorched and raw, dragged up from the deepest part of his chest—spilled out.

"Please. Just... let it stop."

---

A day passed after that. It was an early morning bathed in western sunlight.

Mikhail sat in a specially opened lecture hall ahead of the free mission period.

[Free Mission Period: Procedural Briefing]

The chalkboard at the front of the room displayed the heading for the upcoming academic phase.

Mikhail eyed the neatly printed text, then accepted a thick stack of papers being passed around.

A single line was printed at the top of the white page.

[Available Request Catalog]

A supply document listing the requests available for selection during the free mission period.

Mikhail flipped past the cover page.

The white sheets were packed with request names, destinations, and more detailed descriptions of each assignment. Recommended party compositions by role and point allocations based on performance were included as well.

I already know which requests are useful to me.

Mikhail skimmed the catalog, then raised his head toward the front.

A timid-looking teaching assistant surveyed the students with obvious nerves written all over his face.

Then, stiff as someone reading aloud from a textbook, he began announcing the upcoming schedule.

"All right, listen up! As you all know, the free mission period starts soon. Your goal this time is to resolve external requests as members of Salvator and earn as many points as possible. The points you bring back will count toward your semester grades and apply to your personal reputation score. So give it your best and rack up those points. Also..."

Mikhail propped his chin in his hand and watched the assistant fumble through his briefing notes, trailing off mid-sentence.

So the next activity is the Individual Role Evaluation. A chance to showcase the skills that'll help determine team composition.

The moment Mikhail finished that thought, the assistant's voice burst out after scanning through the document.

"Oh—we're doing an evaluation!"

"An evaluation? Why the sudden—?"

Groans rippled through the students.

Amid the spreading murmurs and complaints, Mikhail shifted his gaze to one spot.

"......"

His eyes settled on a head of pink hair sitting diagonally across the room.

The boy who'd promised to join him for the free mission period.

Julien Leventia sat with his head bowed, hands clenched tight on top of his knees.

He doesn't look good.

Mikhail watched the string of small, telling movements and narrowed his eyes.

If there was one reason Julien would be this anxious right now, it could only be one thing.

Something had gone wrong with hiding his mana.

"—Okay, okay, settle down, everyone. I'm not finished yet."

Right then. The assistant's voice cut across the restless air from the podium.

Mikhail pulled his gaze away for a moment and looked forward.

The assistant on the platform clapped his hands once as he scanned the murmuring students.

"Look, I say 'evaluation,' but it won't count toward your grades. If anything, it's meant to help with your team composition and formation placement."

The murmuring died in an instant. The assistant let out a relieved breath through his nose and snapped his fingers.

Click.

A piece of chalk shot into the air and began carving white letters across the chalkboard.

[Individual Role Evaluation]

"This will give us a read on your maximum output. Should be useful info when you're deciding who to team up with."

Mikhail listened and nodded along.

Unlike swordsmen, who could take on flexible roles depending on their traits, a mage's foremost quality boiled down to one thing.

Drawing out the most destructive power possible.

That was what determined formation structure and placement.

"The evaluation will be held at the outdoor training grounds. The area with the large wooden dummy along the edge. Everyone head outside and get ready!"

The moment the assistant called out to the room—

A new quest message surfaced over Mikhail's field of vision.

Pop!

【Quest: [Sub] Complete the Individual Role Evaluation】

• Quest Reward: Shop Currency +3

Students murmured as they rose from their seats. Mikhail stood as well.

But his feet didn't carry him toward the exit. They carried him toward Julien, tucked away in the corner of the lecture hall.

"......"

He intended to keep Julien's condition under control.

After all, his plan was to eventually strip away Julien's disguise and draw out his real abilities for his own purposes.

To create the right moment for pulling out the result he wanted, at exactly the right time—

Julien's mana couldn't be allowed to erupt prematurely.

"Julien."

Mikhail placed a hand on his hunched shoulder. Julien flinched hard and whipped his head around.

"...!"

Trembling eyes met a calm, steady gaze. Mikhail tilted his head slightly and spoke.

"You okay?"

Julien stared up at him in silence.

In those few seconds, his blown-wide pupils shrank back to normal, and the uneven rhythm of his breathing smoothed out.

It was as if his awareness, trapped inside its own spiral of anxiety, had found its way back.

Before long, Julien rubbed the back of his neck, let his expression ease, and answered with his usual bashful grin.

"Yeah. Guess I was just a little tired."

Mikhail looked at him and curled the corner of his mouth upward. He lifted his hand from Julien's shoulder and gestured toward the door with a tilt of his chin.

"Let's go. Once the evaluation's done, we're heading straight to register as a team. Don't wander off."

---

The Magic Department's outdoor training grounds, situated beside the lecture building, were a wide-open clearing with an unobstructed view in every direction.

Along the far edge stood a single sealed training apparatus.

Mikhail stood behind the murmuring cluster of students and eyed the massive wooden dummy at the front.

"That dummy, right? I've seen it a few times walking past, but I've never actually seen anyone use it."

"What are they gonna make us do with that thing? Don't tell me it's going to start thrashing around like in the training halls."

That was when footsteps—soles dragging lazily against the ground—drew closer from the far side of the grounds.

Mikhail turned toward the sound.

"Yaaawn..."

The staff member who appeared had a disheveled mop of hair and a face that said everything in the world was a bother.

The ID badge around his neck read Husto Rinkle, Magic Tool Maintenance.

Husto stifled a drawn-out yawn, dragged an oversized equipment bag behind him, and planted himself in front of the students.

"Everyone here?"

Husto swept a disinterested glance over the assembled students, then walked up to the wooden dummy beside him.

He pressed his hand against the sealing formula at its center, channeled mana into it, muttered something under his breath, and snapped his fingers.

Tsssss...

The sealing formula vanished without a trace.

Husto turned back to face the students and spoke.

"You got the rundown already, right? When I call your name, step up."

He backed well away from the dummy, then scanned the crowd as if sizing up a suitable first candidate.

Mikhail shifted his gaze to the side.

Julien had his head ducked as low as it would go, doing everything in his power to avoid Husto's eyes.

"......"

Unfortunately for him, Husto was the contrarian type.

Rather than picking from the eager volunteers, he went for the ones shrinking back.

"Julien Leventia. You're up."

Every pair of eyes in the crowd swiveled toward Julien.