On the day of the academy's assessment, Wade cast a sweeping glance over his class, a swell of pride filling him. Just six months prior, these students had struggled even to properly form a fireball. Now, after a semester of diligent study and practice, they had mastered the fundamental spells. Based on his prior evaluation, passing the Level Three Mage certification posed no challenge at all, and a few had even expressed their intention to attempt Level Four directly.
Yet, there remained one student who refused to grant any peace of mind: Jody.
Indeed, he had not yet returned. Half a month ago, Master Wind had notified Wade that Jody would take leave for several days, promising to return before the assessment. News of Jody's acceptance as Dean Lopez's disciple had not been widely circulated; only the academy's upper echelons were aware. Since Master Wind had personally delivered him, Wade had not thought much of the leave request.
In teaching Jody, Wade had been thoroughly satisfied. The boy grasped every lesson with remarkable speed and attended class with earnestness. Though he displayed no overt brilliance and often vanished immediately after class, he was nonetheless easy to instruct—unlike several others, who, having learned only the basics, constantly clamored for sparring, scorching multiple uniforms in the process.
Dean Lopez, meanwhile, was growing slightly uneasy. Jody was reckless, yet Elinor surely understood the importance of the assessment; barring extraordinary circumstances, neither would miss it. For now, the dean's attention was divided, for she had just received word that the royal entourage had arrived. As academy dean, it was proper for her to greet them.
At the forefront walked the Second Prince, clad in robes of pale gold, a sword slung at his waist. His gaze was sharp yet approachable. On either side followed two distinguished figures: to one side, the Chief Court Mage, a Level Nine dual-specialist elder, older than Lopez herself, commanding the entire corps of royal mages and reporting directly to the emperor—truly second only to him; on the other, the Court Steward, a rotund man of six-foot stature and equal girth, his eyes nearly swallowed by surrounding flesh yet conveying a gentle, perpetually smiling demeanor.
Behind them trailed attendants bearing an assortment of gifts and packages.
Upon seeing Dean Lopez, the prince stepped forward, bowing with utmost decorum.
"Lanley Winter, greetings, Dean!"
Though a prince, he knew the weight of standing before one of the world's foremost mages, on par with his father. Behind him, both the Chief Mage and the corpulent steward followed suit, bowing respectfully.
Lopez inclined gracefully, responding in kind. "No need for formalities, Your Highness. It is an honor for our academy to host your observation of our midterm assessment."
The prince replied with equal courtesy: "Dean, your tireless cultivation of magical talent has benefited the empire immeasurably. Our presence is but a token of our respect."
With the formalities concluded, they took their seats on the observation platform. This world's proceedings were refreshingly devoid of needless ritual—no speeches, no drawn-out ceremonies. The assessment commenced immediately.
The first round proved relatively mundane. Level Three assessments did not require combat; students focused on elemental control, directing energy toward target dummies. Four classes rotated in turn, and soon the round concluded. Perhaps spurred by the prince's presence or the exceptional aptitude of the students, every participant passed.
Next came the presentation of mage insignias by the vice dean—an emblem of formal recognition. Golden badges, each adorned with three stars, confirmed their Level Three status and honored their six months of diligent effort.
The material of the insignias was deliberate: gold for novices, silver for intermediates, and copper for the advanced. Lopez explained that gold signified the academy's investment in their potential, while copper at the highest level reminded seasoned mages not to forget their alma mater.
Vice Dean Yin, observing the students' eyes alight with aspiration, knew precisely what they desired. Yet the path of cultivation was arduous; while all began as prodigies, only a select few could rise to the pinnacle. Many would stagnate at Level Seven, their potential capped. True talent was reserved for a rare few—the ones whose assessments had yet to commence.
Standing upon the demonstration stage, Vice Dean Yin addressed the elite students of each class:
"The next stage is the Level Four Mage assessment, beginning with the Fire Element class."
Level Four evaluations required students to confront two Level Three mages simultaneously. Naturally, these would not be the freshly certified novices. Following tradition, combatants were selected from the royal mages in attendance, ensuring both impartiality and proper recognition of the court.
Lopez nodded to the Second Prince. The prince signaled the Chief Mage, who led a retinue of royal mages to the stage.
First to appear was the acknowledged beauty of the Fire Class, nicknamed "Fire Lotus," Linglong. She wore a fitted deep crimson battle robe, reminiscent of the attire Jody had worn when he first met Dean Lopez.
Vice Dean Yin and the Chief Mage exchanged greetings: "Old Xing, our thanks to you.""Old Yin, it has been some time," Xing replied, nodding without further ceremony.
Two Level Three mages were selected at his gesture, one water-affiliated, the other fire-affiliated. Sharing a glance, they leapt onto the stage.
In the eyes of the spectators, water mages held a natural advantage over fire mages. Many feared for Fire Class's first challenger, yet the assessment allowed no choice of opponents, much as no soldier on the battlefield could select whom to face.
The duel commenced.