It had already been several minutes since Zara had disappeared, and only a few remained in the plain. Some had failed, while others had managed to find the trick to overcome this trial.
For now, the only common point among all those who had completed the first trial was that they had demonstrated an ability before succeeding. The only problem was that the ability could be just as much the summoning of a companion as the birth of a small spark.
"I can't resist anymore… Léo, help me!" cried a blond-haired young man with blue eyes and a pale complexion. As his companion appeared and he thought it would allow him to succeed as Zara had, he realized he wasn't teleported, and no announcement was made.
The worst part of this situation was that summoning his companion had drained him of the last bit of strength he had left. After just a few moments, he disintegrated, marking his elimination. The only trace of him was a faint "Why…" uttered like a cry from the heart as he vanished.
The silence that followed his elimination was chilling. Those still standing in the plain exchanged uneasy glances.
Phaistos felt a shiver run down his spine. He observed the few survivors, searching for a pattern, an invisible link between those who disappeared and those who remained. Zara had summoned Al-Maari and succeeded, but the blond-haired boy had summoned Léo and failed. Why? Was it because summoning alone wasn't enough? Had Zara also gained some form of understanding during her action? Or was it impossible to qualify with an action already performed?
The scorching wind continued to blow, relentless. Every second spent here brought them closer to exhaustion.
Kibi clenched his teeth, his voice barely audible over the storm. "There must be something we're not understanding…"
Miki, struggling to stay on his feet, watched those who continued walking effortlessly. The boy with the lance was still there, indifferent, moving serenely through the storm. A surge of frustration swelled within him. "Am I really that weak?"
"Is it a question of magic? Or willpower?" murmured Phaistos, just before a new gust engulfed him entirely.
These burns pinned him in place. He wouldn't last much longer.
So, what was the key? He had to understand. And fast.
Meanwhile, Miki, who could barely hold on anymore, found himself collapsing to the ground. As he felt life slipping away from him, he began to see his body dematerializing, his consciousness darkening. Yet, he couldn't abandon everything like this. Despite having known his friends for less than a week, he refused to be the weakest among them. He knew he was lucky to have left Earth to learn magic, and given the nature of the academy, he understood that weakness could not exist.
As his mind sank deep into the void, a word echoed within him—Norium.
Suddenly, the scorching wind and the formless pressure that had weighed upon his shoulders seemed to weaken. At first, it was barely perceptible, but gradually, he was able to stand up effortlessly. It was as if the forces that had crushed him earlier no longer dared to come too close.
Just as he was beginning to grasp what was happening, a beeping sound resonated in his mind, and he vanished.
[Miki Takahashi a réussi. Il passe avec succès à la seconde épreuve.]
[Miki Takahashi]
[Rank 1: Initiate]
[Magic Power: 20]
[Combat Power: 14]
[Dark middle stage - 50%]
[Spiritual Origin: B+]
[Magical Control: E-]
[Lineage: ???]
[Talent: Curse spirit]
Kibi, Phaistos, and Freya were relieved. Miki seemed to have had a sudden moment of clarity in his distress, which allowed him to qualify for the next stage. Nevertheless, all three had to refocus on themselves if they wanted any hope of succeeding in this trial.
As Freya struggled against the natural elements, it was her turn once again to take the vanguard position in their group. As she stepped forward, she lowered her head to shield herself from the wind. This action might have seemed trivial, but over the past fifteen minutes, she had lowered her head far more times than she ever had in her short life.
The wind struck her head-on, each gust tearing through her clothes, trying to drain the last bit of strength from her. Freya refused to yield.
But as she instinctively lowered her head, a thought crossed her mind.
Why was she always on the defensive? Why was she dodging?
This wasn't in her nature. She wasn't meant to flee.
A surge of frustration grew within her. With every step she took, every second she resisted the wind, she felt something deep inside her trying to burst out.
A stronger gust arrived, forcing her to bend one knee under the pressure. But this time, she did not lower her head.
She raised her gaze, and her instinct screamed a truth she should have realized far earlier.
She was not meant to endure. She was meant to strike.
A newfound heat surged through her body, a ferocity she had never felt before. Freya was not meant to suffer.
She was a warrior, a fighter who never backed down.
Without thinking further, she pushed off the ground and struck the air before her with all her strength.
The gust exploded upon impact, shattering like a wave crashing against solid rock. Yet, her fist seemed to imprint itself in the air and continued its path, finally landing on the Combat Hall instructor. A cloud of dust rose as the instructor took the full force of the blow.
As the dust slowly settled, the scene that emerged left everyone present stunned. The instructor was completely unscathed, his clothes not even slightly damaged. In reality, if they had the time to observe closely, they would notice that not even a single speck of dust had settled on his attire. As if the strike had simply never touched him.
As he glanced at Freya, he gave a slight smile. His lips did not move, yet his voice rang clearly for everyone present. "Very interesting. It has been years since anyone has managed to touch an instructor during the first trial. For me, this is actually the first time it has ever happened. However, I am sure you understand that I cannot let such an outrage go unanswered. Please accept my respects."
At the end of his words, Freya's instincts went into maximum alert. She knew that if she did not do everything in her power to block the incoming strike, she might as well ask the academy to send her corpse back to Earth.
Silence fell over the plain. The instructor's gaze lowered slightly, and his right arm rose smoothly into the air. It was an almost trivial motion, with an eerie fluidity. Yet, everyone still standing felt an immediate sense of danger.
Freya, whose instincts were on high alert, realized the true nature of the threat even before the attack was unleashed.
This was not just a counterstrike in response to her own.
It was a sentence.
A warning carved into the air. An absolute demonstration of superiority.
And when his fist came down, everything vanished.
The world went mute for a fraction of a second, then the very air exploded under the impact.
BOOM.
A shockwave shattered the ground beneath their feet, tearing up chunks of earth and sending violent winds in all directions. An overwhelming force surged toward Freya, pulling her into the void.
Her body reacted before her mind could think. She crossed her arms in front of herself, focusing all her strength into one last barrier.
But it was ridiculous.
The impact struck her like a divine hammer.
She was hurled backward for dozens of meters, crashing through the plain in a deafening roar. Her breath was cut off, her consciousness flickered. She slammed into a hill, carving a deep crater into its surface. In an instant, every blood vessel in her body burst, leaving her looking like nothing more than a mass of blood.
Yet, despite the inhuman force of the strike, she felt something else.
A shiver of exhilaration.
Her heart pounded with new intensity. She had survived. She had endured. Just as everyone expected her to dissolve into a burst of light after taking that hit, she grabbed the edge of the crater and pulled herself out. After stabilizing herself, she said "Argr" and held up a middle finger at the instructor.
A middle finger, thrown with all the defiance of a warrior who refused to bow before adversity.
Laughter echoed somewhere in the plain. The remaining survivors could not believe what they had just witnessed.
For the first time since the beginning of the trial, the instructor raised an eyebrow.
Then, against all expectations, a smile appeared on his face.
"Fearless… I like that."
A flash of light surrounded her, and with a breath, Freya disappeared.
[Freya Sigurdsson has succeeded. She advances to the second trial. For managing to strike the instructor, Freya Sigurdsson earns a bonus point. For surviving a punch from the instructor, she earns another bonus point.]