Reika stared at the girl in front of him with a skeptical look.
"So, Zevienthe… what exactly was your reason for suddenly hugging me?"
The girl reacted instantly.
"I told you, just call me Clara!" her voice spiked slightly before softening. "I... I was absorbing mana from your body."
Reika knit his brows. "Eh? But I didn't feel my mana decreasing at all."
Clara froze for a split second. Her heterochromia eyes widened in sheer disbelief before she quickly forced herself to calm down.
(Even my father, who possesses an immense pool of mana, always notices it immediately...) she thought. (Just how massive is this boy's mana? And why does his energy flow feel so incredibly warm?)
She averted her gaze nervously. "By the way… how old are you?"
"Thirteen. Why do you ask?"
"He's a year older than me..." Clara murmured under her breath.
"Well… actually, I just turned thirteen two days ago," Reika added.
Clara glanced back at him. (So we're practically the same age.)
Reika raised his hand. "I have a question."
"Speak."
"Why did you call it 'mana energy'? Isn't it just regular mana?"
Clara frowned, looking exasperated. "Energy and mana are the same thing."
"Aren't they different?"
Clara let out a long, heavy sigh. "Even if I explain it, you wouldn't understand. Just know that energy and mana are fundamentally the same."
"Yeah, yeah, right..." Reika leaned in slightly. "Then, why is your right eye a different color than your left?"
Clara let out a sly smirk. "That's a secret."
Reika happened to glance down at the watch on his wrist. In an instant, his face twisted into absolute panic.
"Damn it! I'm late! I have to go right now. See ya!"
Without waiting for her reply, he bolted out of the alley.
"Watch your step!" Clara called out.
A split second before Reika completely vanished from her sight, Clara's right eye emitted a faint, subtle glow. A small, intrigued smile played on her lips.
"Reika… huh."
The royal training grounds were already packed with crowds by the time Reika arrived. His heart hammered violently against his chest. The exam had clearly moved on to the second phase.
He stepped forward into the arena and bowed respectfully.
"Forgive me, Commander Bortos. I arrived late due to an unexpected situation on my way here."
The heavily-built man stared down at him, his face devoid of any emotion. "Apologies. You have already failed."
Keith Bortos was a high noble from the Bortos family—the third most powerful clan in the Everts Kingdom. They had played a monumental role in the Human World War. Currently, Keith held the rank of Royal Commander and was tasked with testing the commoners who wished to enter the Heero Academy. Out of the ten carefully selected candidates, only two would be accepted.
"Please," Reika's voice trembled slightly, "just give me a chance to take the test."
"Did you not hear me?" Bortos's voice boomed, rising in irritation. "The exam has already entered its second stage, and you've only just arrived. Such lack of discipline is utterly unworthy of a future Heero."
Reika clenched his fists tightly. (Am I going to fail before I even get to try?) (No. A true Heero doesn't turn a blind eye to someone in need.)
"What is all this commotion about, Keith?"
A voice suddenly cut through the air, causing the temperature around them to plummet instantly.
Rufen Fedora. The Heero widely feared as "The Cold-Blooded Ice." He was one of the legendary main figures of the Human World War. Cold, ruthless, and the undisputed master of the highest-tier ice magic.
"Lord Fedora," Bortos immediately bowed his head in deep respect. "This brat arrived late but is stubbornly demanding to take the exam."
Fedora stepped closer. Reika swallowed hard, a slight shiver running through his body.
(This aura… it's incredibly heavy.) (So this is Rufen Fedora… please don't kill me.)
Suddenly, a firm hand patted Reika's shoulder.
"Show me your strength," Fedora commanded in a flat, monotone voice. "If your mana exceeds two thousand—no, let's say two thousand five hundred, and state the magic spells you have mastered."
Reika stood frozen.
"My Lord," Bortos interjected, "the mana capacity of a commoner is usually well below two thousand. The highest among those who passed the initial selection was only one thousand nine hundred. For context, my own mana is two thousand five hundred, and yours, Lord Fedora, is two thousand eight hundred."
"Let us see," Fedora replied, a thin, dangerous smirk appearing on his face. "Your name?"
"Reika Argan."
"Do you dare to accept this challenge?"
Reika swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes filled with determination. "I dare."
"Begin."
"I possess two basic elements: Fire and Earth," Reika stated clearly. "And one high-tier element: Ice."
"Demonstrate them."
"Fireball—this is the highest output of my fire element. For earth, Binding Root. And for my ice magic, Glacier Ice. These are the highest-tier spells I have mastered."
Fedora's smile widened. "Extraordinary." He turned his head slightly. "Bring the crystal ball."
Reika stepped forward and placed his palm firmly against the crystal surface.
The magical light inside the crystal began to vibrate violently—and then, with a sharp CRACK, the crystal ball shattered into pieces.
"What is the maximum limit of this device?" Fedora asked calmly.
"F-Five thousand," Bortos replied, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "Which means… his capacity is far beyond that."
Fedora stared at Reika for a very long moment, his mind racing.
(To think he even surpasses the King of Everts.) (Fedrel Zevienthe… it looks like your mana has been completely eclipsed by this boy.)