Book 1
Chapter 10: Final Exams and Fabricated Glory: The Ordeal
The Grand Meditation Hall hummed with an anxious silence. Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting kaleidoscopic patterns onto the polished floor.
It pulsed faintly with echoes of unspent Mone. The hall itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next catastrophe.
Rows of students sat cross-legged, eyes closed, faces strained in concentration.
This was the dreaded "Spiritual Awakening" final exam. A test of inner harmony, control, and the ability to project one's cultivated essence.
Narutama, perched anxiously on his meditation cushion, felt anything but harmonious.
Sweat dripped on his brow, not from effort, but from sheer, pure panic.
His mind was a chaotic tempest. He tried to focus, to channel his spiritual energy as ProfessorHimura had taught.
Nothing. Just the dull throb of a migraine.
Beside him, KenHanzori sat with an expression of serene, utterly oblivious calm.
He wasn't meditating. He was... flossing. Again.
His serenity radiated the smug energy of someone who believed oral hygiene was a cultivation technique. His invisible floss glimmered faintly, as if decided this was the right time for dental hygiene.
Each motion radiated a subtle feedback to the crystal array, unnoticed by all but the most attuned observers.
---
The Art of Faking a Spiritual Awakening
The Head Examiner, a venerable Elder with a very long beard, cleared his throat.
"Students, this is your final test. Project your inner spirit. Let your essence manifest. Show us your truth."
He gestured towards the large, shimmering crystal array at the front of the hall, which would register their spiritual output.
A few students sat up straighter, as if suddenly realizing their "truth" might just be a mediocre mystical point.
Narutama squeezed his eyes tighter, desperate. He imagined his inner spirit as a tiny, flickering candle. He willed it to grow, to manifest.
Nothing.
Ken, meanwhile, suddenly opened his eyes. He stretched elegantly, then, with a dramatic flourish, adopted what he clearly believed was a meditation pose: one hand pointing vaguely at the ceiling, the other making an "okay" gesture.
He then closed his eyes again, adopting an expression of intense constipation.
"Mmm, yes," Ken intoned in a low, gibberish babble, clearly audible in the silent hall. "The truth... of the void... is in the stillness... yet the motion of the infinite... resonates with the... cosmic ledger!"
He leaned slightly to one side, then the other, swaying gently like a magical, slightly off-balance willow tree. "Such harmony... such balance due!"
Somewhere in the crowd, a junior monk began sketching Ken for the temple newsletter under the caption "Local Idiot Achieves Enlightenment."
As Ken spoke this nonsense, a faint, golden glow began to emanate from him. It started as a subtle aura, then pulsed brighter with each random sounding word.
With an exaggerated sigh, Ken struck a pose like a particularly enthusiastic martial arts master demonstrating 'Crane Spreads Its Wings.'
A brilliant, blinding burst of light erupted from him, washing over the crystal array.
The crystals flared, registering off the charts, dazzling the examiners.
The burst was not just light. Each pulse resonated with raw, untamed Mone, vibrating the crystal array with Ken's unregistered energy.
Narutama risked a peek, then slammed his eyes shut, his inner candle wilting in shame.
Ken's "faking" was so ridiculously over-the-top, yet so inexplicably effective.
---
The Comedic Ordeal of the Written Test
The "Spiritual Awakening" was only half the exam. The other half was a rigorous written test on arcane theory, spiritual pathways, and cultivation history.
Narutama, still smarting from Ken's accidental brilliance, received his test paper. His heart sank further.
He knew most of this, but the pressure, the lingering scent of Ken's unexplained triumph, and the general anxiety of the final exam made his mind go blank.
He scribbled a few answers, then looked around frantically. A few students were subtly (or not so subtly) trying to swap notes.
Narutama briefly considered it, then dismissed it as beneath him. He was Narutama, a student of integrity!
Beside him, Ken merely stared at his blank paper, then, with a shrug, began sketching a crude picture of a goldfish.
The fish looked oddly judgmental, as though it knew it was part of something historically stupid.
After a moment, he scrawled what looked like gibberish next to it. Then, he dipped his finger in a nearby water bowl and lightly smeared it over his answers.
Nothing happened. He sighed, looking disappointed.
Narutama, sweating bullets, managed to fill maybe half his page before the time was called. He handed it in with a defeated sigh, already imagining the failing grade.
As the examiners collected the papers, Professor Himura's eyes, still wide from the "flossing incident," landed on Ken's paper.
He picked it up, expecting the worst.
But as the ambient spiritual energy of the hall interacted with Ken's Mone-infused invisible ink (accidentally activated by the water smear), text slowly began to appear on the paper.
The ink responded to the chaotic Mone streaming from Ken's presence, forming an intelligible text.
It was not gibberish, but perfectly formed, concisely written, and shockingly accurate answers to every single question.
The goldfish sketch however remained, perhaps a mystical symbol.
The answers were flawless, demonstrating an encyclopedic knowledge of spiritual pathways and theoretical cultivation, delivered in a deceptively simple hand.
The final question, a complex query on the true nature of inner essence, was answered with a single, perfectly rendered character: "Mone."
Professor Himura's jaw sagged. He peered closer. This wasn't just passing; it was masterful.
He looked at Ken, who was now expertly picking his nose, completely oblivious to his own academic brilliance.
---
The Terrifying Truth
Days later, the results were posted.
Ken Hanzori had inexplicably achieved a perfect score on both segments of the final exam, his name blazing at the top of the list.
Narutama, meanwhile, scraped by with a barely passing grade, a bitter pill to swallow.
It came with a footnote: "Nice effort! Have you considered a career in… literally anything else?" The footnote was later voted "Most Savage Comment" by the faculty. He burns his exam paper, but it just turns into confetti with Ken's face on it.
One of the examiners, a stern and 'cannot be disturbed' master known for her unbreakable composure, was conspicuously absent from the grading ceremony.
Rumors swirled. One claimed she'd left to meditate in the mountains. Another swore she'd joined a traveling soup cart.
She had abruptly announced her "retirement" from the Academy, citing "personal health reasons."
The truth was far more unsettling.
During Ken's "spiritual awakening" exam, as that blinding burst of light erupted from him, she, MasterAruna, had dared to peer directly into his spiritual aura with her honed senses.
She hadn't seen a refined cultivation essence. She hadn't seen wisdom or inner peace.
What she had seen was a glimpse into the vast, unstable, terrifying abyss of infinite Mone.
It was a churning, chaotic vortex of cosmic energy, untamed, unknowable, and utterly unconcerned with petty things like human consciousness or individual souls.
It was the raw, indifferent fabric of existence. It was so immense, so utterly uncontainable, that it almost shattered her very spirit.
She'd seen the void, the raw power that fuelled Ken's ATM, and it had left her soul reeling, a horror beyond comprehension.
Her soul now flinched every time she saw a coin purse.
She had retired not due to health, but due to a profound, existential terror.
And in her last, frantic report, before vanishing into seclusion, she wrote a single, chilling phrase:
"The boy is not a cultivator. He is a conduit. And the conduit is cracked."