By the time the lab work was nearly complete, Slade noticed his mentor had no further instructions for him. After offering a polite farewell, he left for the Apprentice Ladder Hall to undergo formal certification as a first-class wizard apprentice and exchange his nameplate.
The Apprentice Ladder Hall stood at the base of the central spire, a cavernous chamber filled with the constant murmur of whispers and the dull rhythm of footsteps.
Along the inner walls, rows of detection arrays glimmered with shifting colors.
Several deacons handled registration and nameplate issuance, their expressions lifeless and their movements mechanical. Most were aging apprentices who had long since lost hope of advancing further. With death approaching and their ambitions extinguished, the light had vanished from their eyes.
Slade joined a modest queue. Ahead of him, several apprentices waited nervously for their examinations.
"Mental strength: 9. Below standard. Certification denied. Next."
The cold announcement echoed through the hall.
A pale-faced boy stepped out of the magic circle in despair. He had less than a month remaining before his final deadline.
Under normal circumstances, the Apprentice Recruitment Ceremony only accepted candidates with an initial mental strength of at least 10. Anyone capable of condensing a Mental Core would immediately qualify as a first-class wizard apprentice.
This year, however, the standards had clearly loosened, and quite a few "defective recruits" had slipped through. As a result, some apprentices who had barely managed to condense a Mental Core and learn basic witchcraft still failed to meet the mental strength requirement for first-class certification.
"Mental strength: 11. Above standard. Cast a level-zero spell to verify the stability of your Mental Core."
Another apprentice, a young girl, hurriedly began chanting. A weak, flickering flame of negative energy trembled at her fingertips, looking as though it might extinguish at any moment.
"Pass. Promoted to first-class apprentice. Proceed to the side window to update your records."
At last, it was Slade's turn.
He stepped calmly into the designated testing circle.
With my current abilities, failure isn't even a possibility.
The array illuminated instantly. An invisible force swept across his body before gathering at the core of his spirit.
The deacon overseeing the test glanced at the crystal display before him. For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed his otherwise numb expression.
A ripple of surprise spread through the hall.
This boy had only enrolled recently, yet he had already reached the peak of the first rank during his very first certification. That level of progress was astonishing.
His innate mental talent must be extraordinary.
"Cast a level-zero spell," the deacon instructed routinely.
Slade's thoughts shifted.
Without a single chant or hand gesture, a suit of dark armor formed instantly around him, woven from negative energy and skeletal phantoms, Skeletal Armor.
"Instant casting without an incantation?!"
Several apprentices nearby cried out in shock.
This newcomer was clearly no ordinary talent.
The ability to cast instantly represented exceptional mastery over both spell structure and mental control. For a freshman apprentice to achieve such proficiency bordered on the unbelievable.
In truth, Slade had not yet truly mastered instant casting. He had merely compressed the casting process to its absolute limit through relentless repetition.
With the aid of his perfect analytical ability, accomplishing such precision was far from difficult.
The deacon studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly.
"Pass. Excellent evaluation. Proceed to Window Three to upgrade your nameplate."
Slade dismissed the Skeletal Armor and walked toward the designated counter.
The elderly deacon behind Window Three accepted the crude bone nameplate Slade handed over. After glancing at it, he checked the freshly transmitted test record.
"Slade… superior soul aptitude. The reputation appears well deserved."
The old man muttered softly before retrieving a new nameplate from beneath the counter.
Unlike the rough bone plate of before, this one was crafted from polished black ironwood. It felt cool and smooth to the touch, faint wood grain running across its surface.
The plate itself was dark gray, and the emblem of the Withering Bone Spire engraved on the front appeared sharper and more refined than before. Thorn-like patterns encircled the crest, symbolizing restraint and protection.
"Inject a trace of your spiritual power to complete the binding," the old deacon instructed.
Slade followed the instruction without hesitation.
The moment his spiritual power flowed into the nameplate, he immediately sensed the difference between it and the old bone plaque.
The previous nameplate had felt cold and lifeless, little more than a dead object. This black ironwood plate, however, carried a faint vitality, as though it had formed a subtle connection with him.
It was clearly more than a mere symbol of status.
The nameplate could function as a communication device, allowing academy announcements and information to be transmitted directly to students.
The enchantment embedded within it was still based on illumination magic, but the upgraded version of Dim Light Illumination was far superior. It could light a radius of nearly three feet around the wearer, and its brightness could be adjusted freely.
Several additional authorization marks had also been unlocked, granting access to public laboratories, low-level training grounds, and limited borrowing privileges within the first floor of the Repository of Skeletal Remains.
Most importantly, the nameplate constantly emitted a faint calming rune capable of reducing the subconscious erosion caused by negative energy.
"All set."
The old deacon returned the bound nameplate to Slade.
"Remember this well: your nameplate represents both your identity and your authority within the academy. If you lose or damage it, replacing it will cost contribution points."
He paused before adding,
"Work hard, kid. Once you reach the second rank, you'll qualify for a Dark Silver Nameplate. That's when you become the real thing."
Slade accepted the cool black ironwood plaque and casually fastened it at his waist.
To him, however, this was merely temporary. With his talent, it wouldn't be long before he replaced it again.
As for the discarded bone plaque, the deacon swept it aside without ceremony, likely to be recycled for the next group of newcomers.