Chapter 12
Alaric stood in front of the boys' dormitory, dressed in a regal robe of black and white, with intricate patterns embroidered along its hems and seams. A golden brooch, emblazoned with the Kingsley family crest, was pinned to his chest. Two rings—one golden, one silver—adorned his fingers, both conveniently useful artifacts that had been with him ever since he was reborn into this body.
The young man he now exuded an air of quiet confidence, underscored by something far deeper. His black hair, streaked with silver, was neatly combed back, and he appeared more energetic than ever.
Two days had passed since he arrived at the academy, and he had mostly remained within the dormitory. The distance between his room and those of the other students, combined with his natural antisocial tendencies, kept him isolated. He had little contact with the second years living in the dorm, only encountering them in the cafeteria when he went to get food. Even then, they barely acknowledged his presence.
After lingering a moment longer, Alaric turned and began making his way toward the designated building where the entrance ceremony would take place in an hour. Alone, and without a guide, he navigated the cobblestone streets easily, having familiarised himself with the campus over the past two days.
The path led through peaceful, empty walkways bordered by trimmed bushes and dotted with various buildings, all spaced apart. This area was close to the dorms and far from the academy's main entrance, offering a rare sense of solitude.
After several minutes, he reached the building where the examination would be held. It was a large, almost spherical structure, resembling an arena, though entirely enclosed by a smooth, white marble dome.
The front of the building opened to a wide, cobblestone courtyard, filled with teenagers. Thousands of people gathered around. Some standing idly, others seated, forming groups, talking or remaining secluded in their own space. The few benches available were already occupied.
Alaric surveyed the area briefly before retreating to the shade of a tree, choosing a quiet spot to wait.
They all waited patiently for the exams to begin. Alaric glanced around at the people nearby. Some wore relaxed expressions, casually chatting, while many others were visibly anxious, their uncertainty over whether their performance would earn them a place in the academy weighing heavily on their faces.
Among the crowd, Alaric noticed a handful of individuals who, like him, exuded a calm, confident indifference. They weren't here to prove themselves—no, their spots had likely been secured long before arrival. For them, the ceremony was just a formality. A chance to parade their prestige, soak in admiration, maybe stir up a little drama for the crowd.
Some already drew clusters of admirers, basking in the spotlight like it was owed to them.
It wasn't hard to tell who the stars were.
Nobility clung to them like perfume. All of them hailed from prestigious lineages, the kind admired by all and dissected in noble gossip. These were the elites, the names etched into the bones of the Marlowe Empire.
At the heart of the largest group stood a boy and a girl, both shining in their own right.
The boy had sharp emerald eyes and raven-black hair, his black robes trimmed with gold patterns that shimmered like fire. Rings gleamed on his fingers—likely artifacts. Power radiated from him with practiced ease. Alaric recognized the crest stitched over his heart: Montclair.
Beside him, the girl was all brightness and contrast — porcelain skin, slanted green eyes, and vivid red hair spilling down her back. Her green robes bore golden constellations, a diamond-studded beetle pinned to her chest. House Nognes, Alaric mused, shifting through Luther's memories. Another house with deep pockets and deeper ambitions.
Alaric flicked through Luther's fragmented memories. "I wonder how popular the Kingsley name is around here…"
He couldn't help but compare. And curse. 'Damn Luther,' he thought bitterly. 'How do you come from nobility and still know nothing?'
Aside from a few survival basics, some basic etiquette skills and a few other 'essential noble characteristics,' the boy had been woefully uninformed about anything that mattered.
Just as Alaric was reeling.
Nearby, another presence suddenly commanded the space.
Everyone turned as an escort of guards dressed in armour or arcane robes suddenly came marching in like they owned the place, quickly butting in and making space. Behind them, came a certain someone.
A girl with hair like silver rivers and eyes of haunting blue stood alone, her snow-white robes making her seem carved from winter itself. There was something sacred in the way she held herself, a stillness that was almost unsettling.
Alaric's lips twitched in amusement. 'If I weren't so damn old up here, I wonder how hard I'd fall for the girl, hehe.'
She was definitely his type. But it was hard to get excited when your soul felt like a grumpy man in his late thirties.
House Drayton.
She wasn't from one of the 'Four Great Houses' officially, but pretty much talked about with the same reverence. 'The Crown's Shadow' they were called, because of all their history of political marriages with the imperial house.
Satisfied, Alaric looked away. So far, he counted four great lineages here today: Montclair, Nognes, Drayton, and himself under Kingsley. No sign of an Ingram heir. Perhaps there was none this year.
A few others also stood apart, radiating a similar aura of arrogance and pride.
Judging by their looks, they're probably from the lesser noble houses, though they didn't even number ten altogether.
Still, the pieces were assembling.
And Alaric couldn't help but smirk.
Just as his thoughts began to wander, the large double doors at the building's entrance swung open with a heavy thud, and a man stepped forward.
He had grey hair and onyx-black eyes, and despite his lively and slightly playful demeanor, his presence radiated authority. He was tall and muscular, clad in simple robes of ash and brown. His long hair flowed neatly down his shoulders, and his short, trimmed beard added to his refined, gentlemanly appearance.
The man wore a radiant smile that seemed to reflect the morning sun as he addressed the crowd in a booming voice that shook the air around them.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Rufus Loring, though you may call me Professor Loring. I'm one of the lecturers here at Eldrynn Academy, and I will be guiding you to your designated locations for your entrance exams."
He paused for a moment, letting them all process his word before continuing. "The exams will be divided into three parts: a written examination to assess your knowledge, a mental fortitude test, and finally, a practical course to measure your innate abilities and talents. These will determine your level of specialization and general capabilities in the magical field."
His eyes swept across the gathered students. "Of course, only a small fraction of you will be admitted. The rest will either need to return next year or seek admission to other institutions with lower standards. We only expect the best of the best."
The professor's gaze sharpened as it passed over the students, taking in their varied expressions—some pale with anxiety, others determined. A few, like Alaric, remained unfazed like they just didn't care.
After a brief pause, he gave a satisfied nod.
"Now, follow me inside. We'll begin the testing process."
With that, he turned and walked back through the entrance. The crowd of students followed behind in an orderly yet tense procession.
They marched through the building's interior, passing through several large halls and corridors, the atmosphere growing more intense with each step. Finally, they arrived at a wide corridor capable of holding the entire group.
Professor Loring stopped and turned to face them again.
"First, we'll start by testing your cores and aptitudes to ensure everything is in order. Divide yourselves into seven groups and proceed through the doors ahead, where you will find the testing rooms."
They did as instructed, each student choosing a random queue and walking toward one of the seven entrances. The lines moved quickly, and before long, it was Alaric's turn. He walked into the room assigned to him.
The room was small and dimly lit, though it exuded a comfortable atmosphere. At the center sat a woman dressed entirely in white, her posture professional yet relaxed. Beside her, a large device made of polished crystals radiated a soft, bright glow.
As Alaric approached, the woman gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her, clearly eager to move the process along.
He sat down, and almost immediately, a subtle pressure weighed on him, as though gravity itself was trying to press him down. The sensation was intense but brief, soon replaced by a slight warmth that spread across his chest.
The pendant was shielding him from the device, which was undoubtedly scanning for any abnormalities in his nature.
'Thank goodness it still works,' he thought to himself, relief washing over him.
Of course they'd do the check up on his nature, every organization had to do it, it's just the way the world worked.
"Name." she asked curtly, her tone efficient.
"Luther Kingsley," he answered calmly.
The woman raised an eyebrow but remained silent, noting down the data. She pointed to the glowing crystals, her tone expectant.
"Place one hand on my palm and the other on the crystals. Ignite the Ether reserves within your core."
Alaric complied. As his hand touched the crystals, they began to hum, glowing brighter with each passing moment until they reached their peak and slowly dimmed again.
She glanced at the crystals before scribbling more notes, muttering, "Still in the basic stages… slightly underdeveloped."
After her observations, she handed him a small card with his information. "You may leave now. The first round of written examinations will begin shortly."
Alaric took the card and headed for the exit. Glancing at it, he read:
Name: Luthor Kingsley
Tier: 1, initial stage
Grade: 52% condensation, C
Elemental Affinity: Darkness, Shadows, Wind, Lightning
Aptitudes: Close combat, Sorcerer, Assassin, Spellwright, Ranger
"52%, huh. Could be worse," he muttered, a faint smile touching his lips.
He was already half expecting the result back when he was still in the healing pavilion, the core he had didn't seem complete to begin with.
His affinity with four elements was impressive by Etherist standards, and his aptitude in five disciplines stood out. However, the C-grade core with only 52% condensation was less exciting—decent but not extraordinary. At Eldrynn, anyone with less than 50% core condensation was rejected outright. It was harsh, but necessary for an academy that nurtured only the most gifted.
Still, his innate talent was enough to avoid being held back by the limitations of his core.
There were a total of nineteen elements in the world, divided into three main categories: primary elements, secondary elements, and fundamental elements. Each had unique properties and attributes.
Alaric's primary element was wind, while his secondary elements were Darkness, Shadows, and Lightning. All considered 'deprivations of nature.'
Fundamental elements were something far more potent, versatile, and extremely rare. These elements had the power to alter reality itself. For instance, the element of time could be used to stop time, increase its flow, or even facilitate time travel. However, these elements were incredibly difficult to wield, often with fatal consequences for the user.
Placing the card back into his pocket, he soon went into another room, this one much larger, resembling a lecture hall. Rows of desks stretched across the space, all facing a small, short man standing at the front. His clean-shaven face and scholarly air indicated he was in charge.
The man didn't waste time, simply motioning for Alaric and the others filing in to take their seats and prepare for the written examination.