Junior Arena.
A transparent magical barrier, like a bowl-shaped lid, covered the entire arena. The surrounding spectator stands were packed full.
Normally, the Junior Arena wouldn’t have this many spectators, but today was the day of the new students’ assessment. Not only were the instructors paying attention, but quite a few upperclassmen had also set aside time specifically to watch the “rookies pecking at each other.”
That’s right—in the eyes of the senior students, the freshman assessment was exactly that: rookies pecking at each other.
They were mostly there for the entertainment.
Even if you arranged your opponent in advance, even if you planned out every move of the battle beforehand, when it actually came time to execute, all sorts of unexpected things would happen.
They hadn’t been much better themselves when they first enrolled.
Some people had poor aim with their spells, while others would slide-tackle straight into an incoming magic attack by accident… Every year produced plenty of comedic moments.
When the freshmen actually stood on the arena stage, they’d discover that public magical combat was nothing like private practice.
Recording the embarrassing moments of underclassmen was an important tradition of the academy—a duty for all!
If they spotted promising talents, they’d also take the opportunity to recruit for their own instructors or clubs, or simply make connections.
This year’s freshmen are really hiding dragons and crouching tigers—Avery, Chris, Ray—they all ended up at our First Academy. I think this year’s practical exam is going to be lively!”
Avery and the others had received formal magical instruction before enrollment and possessed exceptional magical talent—they couldn’t be treated like ordinary freshmen.
It was unlikely they’d make the kind of amateur mistakes that would add to the entertainment value. But since they were all in the First Academy, they’d inevitably have to compete for rank, so a fierce showdown was unavoidable.
“Hey, forget about who’s going to be the strongest freshman for a moment—look at the instructors’ section!”
“What’s so interesting about the instructors? Huh—there’s an unfamiliar face. A new instructor?”
“Idiot, that’s Aaron Lewis!”
Well, it was understandable that some students didn’t recognize Aaron. He’d been out of sight for years, never appearing in public. Aside from those who remembered him vividly, who could still recall that there was such a person at the First Academy?
But as soon as someone called out Aaron’s name, murmurs spread through the stands.
“I’ve been here for three years, and this is the first time I’m seeing him in person! I heard he’s never taken on students before. But he’s here watching the practical exam—that means he’s actually considering taking on a disciple. Which genius will catch his eye? Avery? Chris? Ray?”
“Ha, forget it. He’s already washed up. He might want to pick them, but would those three choose him? They’ve already selected their instructors.”
If this had been during Aaron’s heyday, they might very well have given up their chosen instructors for him. But now? Did Aaron still hold that much value?
“I heard the academy is preparing to revoke his senior instructor title and reclaim all his benefits. That’s the real reason he’s here watching the practical exam. If he can’t land a genius, he still has to take on a few students to meet the instructor assessment requirements.”
As they talked about him, their tones carried a hint of lament. How formidable he’d been back in the day—and now, this was how far he’d fallen…
Aaron, seated in the front row of the instructors’ section, had changed into a neat magic robe and tidied up his appearance. He looked presentable enough.
As if he hadn’t heard the whispers behind him, he watched the arena with a languid air while simultaneously multitasking—doing calculations on a scratch pad.
An instructor beside him smiled and struck up a conversation. “Aaron, long time no see. Looks like Avery and the others really are talented enough to catch your attention. Too bad—you might be disappointed this time.”
The tone of schadenfreude was obvious.
Well, despite Aaron keeping a low profile all these years, he’d actually managed to offend quite a few people.
The reason Aaron behaved so obediently in front of Emma was simply that he truly couldn’t beat her.
He had the typical arrogance of a genius. Just like with taking on students—if he didn’t deem someone worthy, he wouldn’t bother with them. Add to that the fact that as a senior instructor he occupied a significant share of the academy’s resources—was it any wonder he wasn’t well-liked?
He didn’t care about the speaker’s attitude either, and replied without turning his head, “I’m not interested in them. Whoever wants them can have them.”
“Don’t pretend. If you didn’t recognize their talent, how could you have given them full marks?”
The scores Aaron gave had to go through joint review by multiple instructors. Only after no objections were raised would they become the final scores.
So this instructor knew very well that Aaron had given all three of them perfect scores! Of course, after score verification, the three had indeed genuinely earned those full marks.
This was the year with the highest number of perfect scores in recent history—many years had none at all. But looking at the names—Avery, Chris, and Ray—the instructors understood why.
It was perfectly normal for Aaron to be interested in those three—but pretending he didn’t care was a bit amusing.
Aaron finally turned his head toward that instructor, but the look in his eyes carried a hint of pity.
“You don’t actually think a perfect score is the standard for measuring talent, do you? A full-mark mediocrity is still a mediocrity. Never mind—I won’t bother explaining. You wouldn’t understand…”
The instructor’s face flushed red.
This guy—even down on his luck, he was still this infuriating!
Aaron’s subtext was: you’re not a genius, so you don’t understand the true qualities of a genius.
But how many mediocrities could the First Academy hire as instructors? Could he honestly accept Aaron’s view? Absolutely not!
“Aaron, are you questioning the academy’s screening mechanism? Do you even have the right to question it? Think about how many high-ranking mages the First Academy has produced!”
“Don’t put words in my mouth—I’m not questioning the academy’s screening mechanism.” Aaron shrugged.
Had he gone and given all the mediocrities zero points according to his own whims? No, he hadn’t, had he? He’d obediently played the role of an emotionless grading puppet—wasn’t that cooperative enough?
But the fact remained that there was a gap between the geniuses the academy screened out and the geniuses as he understood them. Just like not every high-ranking mage would leave their name in magical history.
“In any case, my view hasn’t changed. If all I wanted were perfect-score talents, I wouldn’t have waited until today. The future of magic lies in innovation—I’m waiting for someone who can make my eyes light up!”
The instructor’s expression shifted several times, and he didn’t continue the conversation.
He was now certain—Aaron truly wasn’t interested in Avery and the others. And the man was definitely obsessed.
【Magic needs innovation】—many people agreed with that view. But these freshmen had only just begun their path in magic. Asking them to innovate? Innovate what? Innovate you to death?
Build a solid foundation first, and talk about the rest later. With their talent, innovation would come in due time.
As an instructor, Aaron couldn’t even grasp such a simple principle—no wonder he’d run himself into the ground.
By now, several rounds of the arena assessment had already taken place.
The much-anticipated “competition for strongest freshman” finale had also been brought forward.
Avery’s assessment order was quite early. Ignoring others who challenged her, she said directly: “Ray, Chris—want to have some fun?”
Although examinees were supposed to accept challenges from others rather than challenge others proactively, as long as she could provoke them into challenging her first, it would still be within the rules.
Ray reminded her: “I don’t advise that. Your mental energy isn’t enough to sustain consecutive battles against both of us.”
When it came time for Ray and Chris to be assessed, she could still take the initiative to challenge them. But if she lost now, she’d lose the practical exam credit.
Given their status, they weren’t especially concerned about a single credit—but Avery might be an exception. Who didn’t know her reputation as the Dragon Princess?
Avery just laughed. “If I can’t win consecutively, what right do I have to call myself the number one freshman? Bring it on!”
If she succeeded, the title of strongest freshman would bring her even more benefits. Such a simple calculation—how could she not make it? In comparison, losing would only cost her a single credit… Damn, even one credit was a lot!
Avery silently resolved: if she accidentally lost, she’d find a way to recoup it from them later!
Avery’s first match was against Chris.
Chris showed no courtesy—the moment they started, flames surged straight toward Avery.
“Wind, come!” Avery used a Light Breeze spell to dodge swiftly, while a gust of wind blew the flames back toward Chris…
Mana surged fiercely in the arena. The raging wind and flames kicked up clouds of sand and stones—but closing your eyes at this point would be tantamount to conceding defeat early!
Using sand and stones to obstruct vision was part of Avery’s plan. But Chris was no pushover either—quietly, he threw a Fireburst spell behind Avery for a surprise attack, nearly singeing her hair—good thing she had short hair!
Both of their spellcasting levels were a clear cut above the previous examinees.
“Chris can already cast without incantation. Avery has streamlined her chanting process—also impressive. Their mastery of these basic spells is quite profound.”
“The power of their spells is fairly even, but Avery’s wind element has a slight advantage over Chris’s fire element. At this rate, Chris is going to lose.”
An instructor commented.
Before long, Avery emerged victorious.
Avery’s second match was against Ray.
Ray possessed extremely high water-element affinity, specializing in water and ice magic.
Wind magic had little advantage against water or ice magic, and Avery had already expended a good amount of mental energy in the first match. The second battle was a tough struggle.
Actually, Avery had prepared a backup plan too: her strong air-element affinity didn’t mean her other elemental affinities were weak. She knew some spells from other schools as well!
Riding the wind, a Fireburst spell shot rapidly toward Ray. But Ray calmly activated an Ice Shield spell and leisurely blocked both the wind and fire magic together.
Unlike the aggressively offensive Chris, Ray mainly followed a defensive strategy.
Avery tried multiple times but couldn’t break through his defense. She already understood what he was up to: he wanted to drain her mental energy dry!
And unfortunately, that tactic was highly effective against her in her current state.
“Turtle shell!” Avery muttered under her breath, then reluctantly conceded.
The third match was an easy win for Avery. That student named Jayne had probably come with the mindset of “picking up scraps,” but Avery wasn’t as worn out as he’d expected—and he was promptly sent flying out of the arena by a Light Breeze spell that was anything but “light.”
This left quite a few instructors sighing inwardly.
They had held high hopes for him, because his theoretical score was over ninety and his elemental affinity was decent—he was already a student worth close attention.
But compared to Avery and the others, the gap became apparent. His actual spellcasting ability wasn’t as strong as his theory scores suggested. Of course, it could also be that Avery hadn’t given him a chance to shine. They’d have to wait and see how he performed against other opponents…
With Avery and the others setting such a high bar with their spellcasting, the subsequent “rookie pecking” matches looked even more lackluster.
Some examinees who went right after Avery even had their morale shattered. They’d originally planned “spectacular exhibition matches” with their classmates, but due to mental imbalance, they couldn’t perform at all—turning their bouts into complete flops.
Gradually, some upperclassmen lost interest and couldn’t be bothered to keep watching. A few instructors also left. The stands were noticeably emptier than at the start.
During this time, a few freshmen who had average theoretical scores but solid combat abilities emerged, sparking silent competition among some instructors.
“I saw this one first.”
“If it’s not entered into the academic records, it doesn’t count—let the best person win.”
“…”
Some instructors also stole glances at the silent Aaron. Strange—wasn’t he going to try to recruit anyone?
These few freshmen who had only stood out in the practical exam actually fit Aaron’s philosophy quite well.
They didn’t have the family backgrounds of Avery and the others, so their magical foundations weren’t as solid. But the fact that they could shine in actual combat was itself evidence of talent. With proper training, in time, they might not necessarily fall short of Avery and the others.
Someone kindly reminded him:
“Aaron, you still hold the title of senior instructor. Your chances of snatching Avery and the others aren’t great, but these few—you have a shot. The headmaster said you must take on students today. Don’t miss your chance just because you’re caught up watching the show.”
“It’s fine. You all fight over them—I won’t be joining in.”
Aaron maintained his casual attitude:
“If I absolutely have to take on students, I don’t mind taking the worst ones. The theoretical results are already set—I’ll just pick from the bottom up. I imagine no one will fight me for them, right?”
Aaron’s utterly outrageous method of selecting students left the instructors dumbfounded: Was he giving up entirely because he couldn’t find anyone he liked?
“Aaron, maybe you should reconsider…”
“What’s there to reconsider? Treating all students equally is what makes a qualified instructor. Your teaching attitudes are very problematic!”
Those who had tried to persuade him immediately shut up. The ones urging him to think twice had genuinely meant well. But Aaron’s way of speaking was just too insufferable—fine, do whatever you want!
“Equal treatment”—sounded nice in theory, but had he ever actually practiced it?
Oh, come to think of it, Aaron really did practice it—he looked down on all these rookie students equally.
Seeing that Aaron’s infuriating temperament hadn’t changed one bit, the instructors who weren’t on good terms with him actually smiled and became unusually accommodating. “Fine, since you put it that way, how could we possibly compete with you?”
They hadn’t been planning to take on that kind of student anyway.
Aaron eyed them suspiciously. “Sometimes you people talk like you’re passing gas—can I really trust that promise? I know you. Some of you would race to eat shit just to spite me.”
Those instructors’ faces turned green.
This guy’s language was getting more vicious by the minute! As an instructor—and a senior instructor at that—was this really appropriate language?
Fortunately, there were soundproofing barriers between the instructors’ section and the other spectator areas—if the students heard this, their reputations would be ruined.
Someone snorted and ignored Aaron.
Another replied coldly, “Don’t worry. No one’s going to fight you for them. Go ahead—keep them for yourself.”
They still had some dignity left and didn’t stoop to Aaron’s level of crude language.
Just then, the spectator stands started filling up again.
“Strange—didn’t some people leave because they found it boring? Why are they back?”
“Haven’t you heard? There’s a commoner who almost couldn’t enroll, but Chris and Ray made a bet on her and got her in. Now everyone’s watching to see if she can hold her own at the academy. Then Avery opened up a betting pool on whether she’ll pass the freshman assessment.”
Quite a few people had placed bets, and Lily’s turn was coming up soon—of course they had to come watch. Their wallets were on the line.
“A betting pool? Gambling?” An instructor frowned. “This is polluting the academy’s atmosphere. Shouldn’t someone step in?”
“The headmaster said—no rush. Let Avery or whoever build it up first. Small bets are for fun. Big bets… and she’ll shut the whole operation down in one sweep!”
At those words, all the instructors fell silent. Classic Emma—compared to her, Avery was still too green.
At the First Academy, she was the absolute law. Whether you were a prince or princess from somewhere, whether you were a genius or a troublemaker—under her watch, you’d better behave.
No one wanted to dwell on Emma’s affairs. Someone cheerfully changed the subject:
“Let’s set aside the discipline issue for now. If I remember correctly, this Lily is the one who ranked last in the theoretical exam, isn’t she? Aaron, don’t forget what you just said.”
This last-place student also happened to be one tangled in trouble—would Aaron still take her?
Aaron chuckled. “Small potatoes. Do I look like someone who’s afraid of trouble?”