Merlin sighed, almost despondently. It wouldn't be absurd to say that he was feeling empty at the moment. After all, The Dungeon Mage—an interactive web novel he had been diligently following for three years now—had just clocked its one thousand and three hundredth chapter, coming to an end.
I should probably send a comment… he decided, then scrolled to the end of the novel's chapter page and began typing.
"Woah! Look at him go! Hacking his life away at his screen. At this rate you might just win the global prize for the most devoted reader of a web novel," Nora bickered, her headphones over her head as she tapped away fiercely at her phone's screen.
It was Tower Raider, wasn't it? What a hypocrite, considering what she'd just said.
"It's that novel again, right?" she continued.
"Shut up," Merlin bit back, then clicked the send button for his comment and leaned backwards on his seat.
He was quite the web novel and comic enthusiast—as Nora was the Tower Raider fanatic—but he was yet to see any form of media he'd enjoyed more than The Dungeon Mage. His role in it perhaps shared a hand in that, since it was the readers who built the protagonist's—Kieran's—RPG system all the way. And Merlin had been the novel's only reader. At least that had stuck past chapter five. Which was why he was feeling a strong urge to pull at his twin sister's hair.
Merlin checked his phone's notification after a minute had passed. No reply yet.
His heartfelt comment was directed at the author, The Sleeping Jacket, wishing him all the best in his endeavors, and letting him know of how much he'd enjoyed the work and that he was here if there was ever any sequel, or even a new story entirely.
It seemed he had become a fan of the author without knowing. But that was a given. After all, he doubted if he would be able to resonate with any character like the way he had done with Kieran. Sometimes, he had even been delusional enough to think that the novel had been written for him and him alone.
He pulled his gaze away from his phone and looked around the Consortium's waiting area. There were so many varying emotions on all the people who had come to have their Mana evaluation and receive their Mage Classes that it almost felt disorienting. Just from their expressions alone one could deduce what exactly was going through their mind or what Class they had gotten.
Merlin glanced at one. It was a rather ample lady. She was crying but still had a little flush on her cheeks. He suspected her to be a D-Class Mage. She was sad she had not been higher, but happy that she was not the worst of the bunch. At the end of the day, she could still cast spells, even though they were limited to only ten.
He saw another one. A child. Around twelve years old, he supposed, and probably a C-Class or D-Class Mage. The boy had Enkindled his Mana Core rather early, it seemed. It would be at least five years before he was handed a Grimoire and allowed to cast any spells, though. All that would be done for now was the Consortium registering him in their system, but still keeping hold of his ID and Grimoire until he was about to enter a Mage Academy.
Merlin diagnosed a few more people before he got exhausted.
As expected, the number of B-Class and A-Class Mages were little. And, as for the extremely rare S-Class, it seemed none of those he had diagnosed possessed the whirlpool of Mana required to achieve such a Class.
There aren't any Deficient Mages too… Merlin thought to himself.
That Class of Mages was just as rare as the S-Class. But not in a good way. The latter was rare because they were comparable to nukes, possessing such a large amount of Mana that they could cast up to fifty spells. While for the former… They were Mages who had no Hexs and were equally unable to cast even a single spell.
"You're doing it again, aren't you?" said Nora, drawing Merlin's attention to her.
"Doing what?" Merlin asked, acting oblivious.
Nora glared at him fiercely.
"That thing where you examine people like you're a psychiatrist," she replied, returning her attention back to her game. "You're nervous, aren't you?"
Merlin tightly gripped his phone at that question. "No," he replied.
"I don't believe you."
"Believe whatever you want."
Truthfully, though? Yes—yes, he was.
All his life he'd wanted to be an Enkindled and become a Mage. After all, that was the only way he would be able to protect his family from what the Cataclysm had done to Earth; the monsters from Dungeons and Towers, and, even more so, the humans who had lost their minds in the pursuit of power.
Merlin had not witnessed the destruction in itself, since he'd yet to be born at the time. But from what he'd heard, read, and watched, it had been such a wide scale chaos all over the world that he sometimes wondered how his parents had managed to survive at the time.
He had no surety that nothing like that would ever happen again. There was a possibility it could be even far worse. But if he had the power, he wouldn't need to fear such an occurrence. He would be able to protect every single person dear to him.
It was that drive that had pushed him to apply for the second ranked Mage Academy in the world, and the first in South Korea, Prestige Academy.
Thankfully, Nora was an Enkindled as well. They would both become Mages and keep their parents safe.
"I've been wondering…" Nora started. "Aren't we being too ambitious? Maybe we should have had the evaluation in London."
Merlin stared at his sister, then sighed. "What would that change?"
She eyed him for just a brief second, not willing to sacrifice her game for the conversation. "Everything, dimwit." Merlin's nose wrung up. "We're foreigners here. We probably won't get any special treatment if we fail the evaluation or something. Why South Korea?"
Merlin understood his sister's point of view. They were English, not Korean. The best thing for them would have been to have their evaluation in London and attend a Mage Academy there. In hindsight, they were just coming to steal the spots of the Korean natives.
But… They had managed to pass the written exam of the second ranked best Mage Academy in the world. Well, managed was for him alone. He had barely scraped through, if he was being honest, while Nora had scored in the top percentile. Regardless, all they had to do now was become at least C-Class Mages and they would be guaranteed spots in the Academy.
So, no. They were not being ambitious.
"Being ambitious would mean sitting in the Consortium in the United States instead," Merlin replied.
The United States boasted having the best Mage Academy in the world; they had both chosen to try for the second on the ranks instead since they'd doubted if their skills were good enough for number one. And yet, here they were, still worried.
Nora clicked her tongue. "We shouldn't have listened to Mom," she said. "If only we had done our evaluation first, we would already know where we stood and if getting in was even at all possible."
Merlin shrugged. "You are right, but Mom was too." Nora rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not lying, though, am I? If we had done the evaluation in London, we would still have to convert our IDs into the accepted ones in Korea, which could possibly delay us. Think about it rationally, not while being clouded by your nervousness. After all, we're only getting student IDs for now, not the actual Mage IDs."
"Who told you I'm nervous?!" Nora snarled.
Merlin deadpanned. "Yeah. Sure. You aren't." He waved his hand dismissively.
"Tch. You really get on my nerves."
Of course I do. Who else would if your own brother didn't? Merlin smiled.
At that moment his phone beeped.
A notification. Finally.
He turned on his screen and saw that it was a reply to his comment. His heart pounded intensely, a fluttery, empty feeling in his stomach.
He'd received replies to his comments from The Sleeping Jacket before, but this one was special. It was the last for this story. And he was hoping he had not typed in something that had ruined the whole relationship he'd built between himself and the author.
With slightly trembling fingers, Merlin clicked on the notification, bringing up The Dungeon Mage's last chapter's page, and then its comment section.
[Hi, S-Class Commenter, many thanks for the heartfelt comment and being with me all through this journey. Yes, you're right. It did get tiring sometimes, but it was you who kept me going. I'll be honest, I had thought about stopping countless times, but witnessing you happily craft the system and skills of Kieran with me was more than enough to make me push those thoughts aside. I really appreciate you, and I want to compensate you for the time you've spent with this below par author on this journey. Please reply with your mail if you're willing to receive my gift.
Also, I think you deserve to know this. I'll be starting the draft of my new work today, perhaps in an hour or so. I don't have a title or an ending planned out yet, as I'm thinking about letting the story flow on its own. But I'm confident you'll see it through—if you choose to be a part of it, that is. Well, that's all. I'll be locking this comment section before I begin the new work, so do reply before then. The Sleeping Jacket.]
Huh? Merlin's eyebrows fell down. A gift? But I did not type all that for one. He lowered his chin. He also said he's starting a new work. Will it be interactive too?
"Hey!" Nora shouted, startling Merlin from his whirling thoughts.
"What?"
Was the shouting necessary?
"Why'd you space out like that?! They've just announced your number. You're 304, aren't you?"
Merlin glanced at the tag hanging from his neck. "Ah! Thank you."
The shouting was necessary.
He jumped up to his feet and sped off towards the evaluation room, quickly typing in his mail before putting off his phone once again.
The evaluation room was rather empty. That surprised Merlin, because he had been expecting it to be packed full with countless technological components. But all that was in it was a desk of the same pristine whiteness as the room itself, bearing the logo of the Consortium—a blue and white chip-like hexagon—and the attendant sitting behind a monitor.
The attendant was a young man with rectangular glasses and a weary smile on his face. He looked quite tired.
White-collared jobs really weren't for the faint of heart. Merlin could only hope that they had shifts here. Fainting from exhaustion was not the best of experiences. Not like he'd experienced it, though.
"Good afternoon," the attendant greeted stiltedly in English, having noticed he was a foreigner. "You may come over here."
"Right," Merlin nodded, replying in Korean, causing the man to flinch briefly before chuckling self-deprecatingly. He'd just been here a couple of days, but he'd gotten used to this already. "Good afternoon to you too," Merlin continued. "I can speak in Korean, so there's no need for the English if it's uncomfortable for you." After all, that was the bare minimum required of him if he wanted to attend Prestige Academy.
"Ah. Many thanks. Then, you may place your palm over here for the evaluation," the man said as soon as Merlin arrived before the table.
There was a palm scanner integrated directly into the desk. Now that Merlin was closer, he saw that the monitor and its keyboard were also integrated into the desk. Such advanced technology, that. Obviously it was due to the magical crystals that could be harvested from Dungeons and Towers.
He obliged and placed his palm on the scanner after a deep breath. A beep sounded, and the attendant looked up at him. He shivered.
"Is there any problem," asked Merlin.
"No," replied the attendant, chuckling again. "It's just that you have a very peculiar name. Merlin Tyrrell."
Merlin's tense shoulders relaxed. He chuckled as well. "Ah. I get that a lot. My mother thinks of me as her little magician, so she named me that."
The attendant nodded. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that no matter what results may come from your evaluation, you should not let it affect your future. You are an Enkindled; that in itself is something to be proud of."
Merlin smiled softly, the tension in his body easing a little bit. "Is that part of the usual protocol?"
The attendant shook his head. "Not quite," he said as he tapped his keyboard and a blue light shone beneath Merlin's hand. The evaluation had begun. "I just thought I should say it."
"Well, thank you," replied Merlin. "You also look exhausted. When does your shift end? It is in shifts, right?"
"Yes. It is in shifts. And I get off in an hour or so," the attendant replied. "Many thanks for the concern."
"You're welcome."
At that moment the light of the palm scanner went off and a beep sounded from the monitor. Merlin tensed again, and it got even worse when the attendant's brows pulled into each other before looking up at him.
"Uhm…" began the attendant, his words not exactly fumbling, but he was seemingly hesitating to say them.
It would hurt, but being a D-Class Mage didn't warrant such a look, right?
"So?" Merlin shrugged slightly as he took his hand off the scanner. "What's wrong?"
The attendant sighed. "Merlin Tyrrell. Forgive me for saying this, but…"
Those words…
Merlin's eyes focused on the man's lips as it moved up and down. Time suddenly slowed, and he could hear the pounding of his own heartbeats.
No, he thought. Please, no. Anything but that.
"…You're a Deficient Mage."