Early in the morning, the candidates who had passed the first round of the First-Class Mage Examination gathered at the tomb's entrance.
Historically, the second round often involved direct competition among candidates, with only the last remaining person deemed worthy of passing.
However, this year's proctor, Sense, had a different plan.
"I, as you can see, am a pacifist," Sense said, her delicate frame and floor-length hair giving her an almost ethereal presence. "I dislike unnecessary conflict."
Her voice carried a calm authority as she continued, "The rules for this round are simple: a dungeon crawl. You must navigate and conquer this abandoned royal tomb and reach its deepest chamber. Anyone who makes it to the end will pass."
"There is no limit to the number of candidates who can qualify. If you can overcome the challenges and make it to the deepest level, you've earned your spot."
At first glance, this seemed far more humane than a head-to-head elimination. It removed the risk of talented candidates being eliminated by sheer bad luck.
However, many of the examinees were unconvinced.
One of them spoke up boldly, "This place is infamous as a death trap! Countless adventurers have entered and never come back! You're just planning to fail us all again, aren't you?"
But persuading the proctor to change her mind was a futile endeavor.
"Only those who can turn the impossible into reality deserve to be called First-Class Mages," Sense replied without missing a beat. "No one has survived? Then prove them wrong. Overcome it."
To ensure the candidates' safety, Sense handed out small bottles to each participant.
"These contain the latest magic construct for dungeon extraction," she explained. "Smash the bottle, and the construct will safely carry you out of the dungeon."
However, smashing the bottle also meant forfeiting the exam.
As the bottles were distributed, someone raised a hand.
"You don't need to give me one. I'm withdrawing," came a calm voice.
The crowd turned in shock to see the source: Aesc.
"Lady Aesc…"
Fern looked at her companion in astonishment, while Frieren frowned.
"…Are you certain?" Sense asked, her tone cautious. "Out of everyone here, you're likely the most qualified to pass this exam. Are you really giving up this opportunity?"
"I am."
Aesc lowered her hand, her voice calm yet resolute. "I have no doubt I could pass this exam. But if I participate, every candidate who enters the tomb—aside from Frieren—will die. Not even your extraction constructs could save them."
Her words cast a heavy pall over the crowd.
Despite the sun shining above, an icy chill swept through the air.
With that, the second round hadn't even begun, and one candidate had already withdrawn.
But no one dared underestimate Aesc.
During the first round, she had made herself known as the standout.
The initial test required candidates to form teams of three, capture a Meteorite Bird, and survive for seven days. Failure to catch a bird or losing a teammate during the week meant disqualification.
Aesc's team was the first to capture a Meteorite Bird, instantly drawing attention—and jealousy.
Numerous teams tried to steal their bird, only to be defeated by Aesc alone.
But that wasn't all.
The testing grounds for the first round were in a forest teeming with dangerous magical beasts. The proctors had predicted casualties among the participants.
Yet by the end, not a single candidate had died.
Why? Because Aesc had gone out of her way to save them.
After securing her bird early on, she spent the remaining time rescuing those in peril, her actions earning her the respect of all.
It wasn't just admiration for her strength—it was respect for her character.
Now, with the rules explained and the test officially begun, Aesc's withdrawal left many candidates shaken, particularly given the tomb's deadly reputation.
But not everyone wavered.
"Lady Frieren, what do we do about Lady Aesc…?" Fern asked softly.
"Aesc must've seen something," Frieren replied, her eyes following Aesc's retreating figure. "Her eyes are special—they see things we can't. If she chose to withdraw so decisively, she must have a good reason."
Fern hesitated, then voiced her concern. "Should we withdraw too?"
The exam wasn't essential for them. They'd joined only because they needed a First-Class Mage to travel to the Northern Highlands. If they failed, they could always hire one with the money they'd earned from the previous dungeon.
"…No," Frieren said after a moment's thought. "If Aesc wanted us to leave, she would've said so. Her silence means she believes we should stay."
Farther away, others were also watching Aesc's departure.
"She seems to know quite a bit," remarked Richter, a Second-Class Mage who ran a magic shop in Äußerst.
"Not just 'seems,'" replied Denken, an elderly Second-Class Mage and royal court advisor. "She does know more than the rest of us."
"Should we question her?" Richter suggested.
Denken considered this, his monocle gleaming in the sunlight.
"…No. If she hasn't spoken, there's likely no point in pressing her. We wouldn't gain anything meaningful."
"Still, she did leave us with a hint," Denken added, recalling Aesc's warning. For him, it held valuable insight.
"Let's focus on rallying the others for now. If we want to pass this test, we'll need everyone working together."
"Good luck with that," Richter muttered. "Most of us were at each other's throats just three days ago. That's not nearly enough time to bury the hatchet."
Having left the royal tomb behind, Aesc returned to the inn, only to find it empty.
"Sir Stark? Oh, he went out this morning," said the elderly fruit vendor outside. "Not sure where exactly, but I bet he's helping someone. He's such a kind soul."
"You know Stark?"
"Of course! He's helped me so much. Just the other day, my fruit spilled everywhere, and he picked it all up for me. He's a real gem."
After thanking the vendor, Aesc began searching for Stark—not because she needed him, but out of curiosity about what he got up to on his own.
The magical city of Äußerst, built atop a vast lake, connected to the mainland by a single grand bridge.
Stark was perched on a cliff overlooking the city. His crimson coat lay neatly folded under a tree, revealing his well-toned physique.
Beside him stood an elderly man with a majestic white beard, exuding an aura of a reclusive master.
"This is the Void Realm. You've grasped the true essence of martial arts. Congratulations," the old man said before turning away. "I have nothing more to teach you."
With those parting words, the elder walked off, leaving only a faint air of mystery behind.
As Aesc passed him on her way up, she gave the man a sidelong glance.
"Yo, Stark! So this is where you've been."
"Aesc? Weren't you with Fern and Frieren for the exam?"
"Oh, I got eliminated. What a shame," Aesc replied breezily, her tone making it clear she wasn't upset in the slightest.
"…Eliminated?"
"Yup. Turns out, I'm just a useless mage who's only good for bashing things with her staff," she added with exaggerated self-pity.
"Wh-why do you even remember I said that?! And I didn't say it that harshly!"
Stark's mind raced with regret. He didn't dare criticize Aesc's magic after seeing her annihilate the Gem Beetle Queen.
That wasn't bravery—it was suicide!
Noticing Stark's distress, Aesc smirked. There was something oddly satisfying about messing with him.
"So, who was that old man?" she asked, gesturing toward the woods where the elder had disappeared.
"I have no idea. He just showed up while I was training."
Stark's face twisted in confusion, but his thoughts turned elsewhere.
She's lived for centuries, hasn't she? Isn't it weird for her to call someone else 'old'?
"…Are you badmouthing me in your head?"
"No!"
Stark's loud denial did little to hide his guilt.
Good, Aesc thought. Now I just need a legitimate excuse to beat him up.
Smiling sweetly—perhaps too sweetly—Aesc placed a hand on Stark's shoulder.
"Say, Stark… Has anyone ever properly trained you in combat?"
"Uh…"
"I mean, Fern's been studying magic with Frieren, but you've mostly been self-taught, right? Aside from a few lessons from Old Man Eisen?"
She referred to Eisen, an elderly dwarf nearing 400 years old and one of Frieren's few living friends. Eisen had taught Stark some basics during their travels.
Stark's warrior instincts screamed danger as Aesc's tone grew saccharine.
"Why don't we spar a little? I've dabbled in close combat myself. Don't worry—I'm sure you'll learn a lot!"
"…Can I say no?"
"What do you think?"
Thus, Stark's last hope crumbled.
Moments later, under Aesc's not-so-gentle guidance, Stark experienced a very hands-on combat lesson.
To his relief, Aesc spared him the cycle of beating, healing, and repeating. She wasn't that cruel… yet.
After all, she had a reputation to uphold as the kind and reliable big sister figure. She couldn't afford to go out of character now.