Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The crowd erupted.

“It’s started!”

The participants’ minds were filled with a multitude of thoughts, yet from afar, it simply appeared as a chaotic descent of students. This was a showdown where every passing second held immense significance.

Sirone was just one step away from the cliff, yet his form still didn’t display the telltale shimmer of teleportation. Until I fall, I haven’t fallen.

As the hearts of the spectators raced, Sirone finally reached the edge of the cliff. The audience’s eyes widened.

“He’s jumped off the cliff...”

With a powerful push from the ground at the cliff’s edge, Sirone hurled himself into the air. He experienced a buoyant sensation in his stomach. The strong wind buffeted his body, and mountain birds flew just a few dozen meters below.

While a gasp escaped his lips, Sirone clenched his teeth and focused. And at the threshold of the leap, he finally shot out like a beam of light. Sirone’s jump marked the end of the first round, and as he progressed to the second, the rankings were upended.

The slight differences at the starting line paled in comparison to a teleportation span of ten meters.

“Huh?” Mark was taken aback as Sirone unexpectedly surged from behind. No way! How late did he time his start to overtake me with just one teleportation?

Indeed, it was just the first round, and the rankings were expected to shift, but Mark couldn’t help but feel frustrated by the derailment of his initial strategy.

“Damn it! Stop right there!”

Barely a moment apart, Sirone and Mark cast their teleportation spells simultaneously once more.

***

Ten minutes before the advancement exam began, a girl with a somber expression made her way toward the practice ground. Her name was Maria Erlang, the third daughter of the third-ranking noble House Erlang and a prodigy who had displayed magical talent from a young age.

Despite being the oldest in Class Seven, she had steadily climbed through the ranks, starting from Class Ten when she was just ten years old.

However, at some point, she began to feel that the competition wasn’t what she truly desired. She was drawn to magic because it brought her joy, not because she aspired to be a celebrated mage revered by all.

With each advancement, she faced renewed competition, climbing what felt like an endless pyramid, a marathon with no finish line, which filled her with dread.

“What am I even doing?” She wondered if she had missed her chance to climb higher, and the realization of being the eldest in Class Seven made her grow resentful of magic itself.

Was she unable to leave the school due to inertia, or was there still some passion left within her? Sighing, she acknowledged that the advancement exam didn’t truly pique her interest, yet the idea of being stuck in the study hall with younger students was even less appealing. This was the sole motivation propelling her toward the testing ground for the advancement test.

It’s about to start. As she checked the time, a flare of illumination magic burst from the mountain peak, casting a blue glow over the area, while cheers from the students echoed in response. Maria found herself paralyzed in silence, unable to move another step. Their voices seemed to repel her, and tears began to form in her eyes.

There’s no place for me there. Is this where my journey ends? As the realization that she couldn’t muster the courage to leave the school hit her, a tide of fear engulfed her. If Mark advances... She knew he wouldn’t forgive the person who had revealed Sirone’s bullying, and the thought tormented her. Her heart pounded as if it might burst, and a wave of nausea surged within her, cloaked in an impending darkness.

No! She was determined to thwart Mark, but the task was too great to face alone. Her eyes scanned the control room of the Pathless Bridge situated halfway up the mountain. Conflict churned within her, yet it seemed a more bearable option than allowing Mark to succeed under any circumstances.

The rusty iron door creaked open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into the control room. Inside, an employee slouched in his chair, releasing a tired yawn.

“When will this end? I’m craving a beer.” His eyelids soon grew heavy, his head nodding forward.

“Phew,” Maria breathed.

Behind the dozing employee, she stood silently. The sleep spell, often ineffective in combat, proved potent for unsuspecting civilians.

Maria eyed the control panel. The control panel was intricate, featuring a multitude of buttons, and situated on the distant end was a rotating switch responsible for adjusting the Pathless Bridge’s difficulty level. Currently, it indicated level one, as if it had never been tampered with.

Her hand, grasping the dial, quivered. Is this really the right thing to do? Beyond notions of right and wrong, she questioned whether she was truly capable of such an act. As long as no one passes...

Frustration mingled with her fear of Mark, fueling her resolve. Maria turned the dial. Expecting some dramatic reaction, the control room remained eerily quiet. The quiet bore down on her, and feeling the weight of her actions, Maria collapsed to the floor, overcome by the moment.

***

Twenty students shot across the sky, slicing through the air at an altitude of one thousand meters. By the end of an average of three teleportation rounds, the physical distance between the leaders and those lagging was not significant, yet the disparity in skill was clear. Many who had teleported early out of fear couldn’t endure the disorienting sensation of flight. As Class Seven hadn’t yet covered the flying spell, the psychological shock was even more intense.

What do I do? Am I going to fall?

The other side seemed impossibly far away. As their Spirit Zones started to falter, the continuity of their teleportations was disrupted, and students from the trailing group began to drop one by one.

“Ahhhh!”

“Save me! Please!”

“Bahaha!”

The onlooking upperclassmen erupted in laughter. Having gone through the same ordeal themselves, the underclassmen appeared nothing but adorable. Meanwhile, the professors smiled benevolently as they methodically noted the names of the disqualified students.

The students who had already fallen below experienced the most intense fear of their lives. Where are the safety devices? Could something have malfunctioned?

Despite seeming to have plummeted more than three hundred meters, there was no sign of any safety mechanism.

As panic set in, a jolt of electricity ran through their bodies, and darkness edged into their vision.

“I’m... dying...” The students cried out. “Save me!”

Just as their cries grew hoarse, a powerful updraft swept them from below.

“Huh?”

Their descent slowed, and at about a hundred meters from the ground, they felt themselves being pushed upward. Hovering, balanced by weight and air pressure, the students exchanged bewildered glances, pale and floating like specters.

“I... I’m still alive.”

Those with some strength left peered below to see holes at ten-meter intervals on the ground, presumably covering powerful air blowers installed beneath. A collective sigh of relief swept through the group as they recalled the teachers and friendly upperclassmen who had chosen not to disclose the safety measures beforehand.

Understanding their motives, the students gathered below the peak cried out in unison.

“You are all too mean!”

Meanwhile, the leading and middle groups, still aloft, grappled with their fears.

What’s so funny?

The distant laughter of the upperclassmen jangled their already frayed nerves.

Anxiety crept in, shaking the composure of the middle tier and causing fluctuations in their rankings. Yet, the leading pack persisted, moving with the tension of a tightly stretched rubber band.

Amy clenched her fist as she observed Sirone, now among the front-runners. If you want to catch up with me, you won’t get scared so easily by something like this, right? Show me your determination.

Onlookers, the anxious, and those fixated on the students’ rankings—a whirlwind of emotions churned around them. Amid this, a mass dropout hit the middle group.

“Aaah! No!”

“Professor! I forfeit the test! Please save me!”

Already at two hundred meters, the horror of falling from the cliff was beyond what they could have imagined. Although their pleas echoed out, none in the leading group faltered. The shrinking field of competitors only steeled their resolve.

Losers. If they lacked confidence, they shouldn’t have participated in the first place, Mark mocked inwardly.

The front-runners had spanned 350 meters, which was quite impressive for Class Seven standards. Sirone maintained the lead. Mark and his team alternated attempts to outpace him, but they were consistently outperformed on each subsequent turn.

Mark gritted his teeth. I can’t believe that guy!

Sirone had managed twenty consecutive teleportations, maintaining a steady ten-meter distance each time. It was akin to performing twenty pull-ups at a consistent pace without faltering.

Is he some kind of machine? While Mark acknowledged Sirone’s strong mental fortitude, he hadn’t anticipated such a stark disparity.

From afar, the professors analyzed the leading group’s dynamics.

With a chuckle, Etala commented, “Sirone is indeed a remarkable talent.”

Her influence was considerable, but not being someone who usually expressed her opinions, her words carried additional weight.

The other professors nodded in agreement.

“Mark is quite skilled for his class, but he’s still young. His routine is unstable. Visibly, there’s a margin of error in his teleportation ranging from a minimum of 9.5 meters to a maximum of 11 meters, about a 1.5-meter deviation.”

Even as a range of mental fluctuation, this deviation was noteworthy.

“In contrast, Sirone’s routine is consistent. Both display impressive speeds, but in a competitive sense, Sirone has the advantage.”

Amidst the professors’ praise, Thad wore a look of mild dissatisfaction. The word “talent” echoed in his thoughts. He shot a quick look at Alpheas, who maintained a stoic facade, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

At that moment, a Class Seven student who hadn’t taken the test approached Thad and inquired, “Professor, how can one maintain a routine as consistently as Sirone? It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

Executing a flawless series of consecutive jumps didn’t seem humanly possible.

Thad found himself compelled to recognize Sirone’s talent this time. “That’s because...”

Amy answered instead, “He’s utilizing compulsion.”

Seryel nodded in agreement.

“More precisely, it’s repetition compulsion. When you objectify yourself, your mind stabilizes, and a unique inertia arises. It’s impressive that he can artificially bring it out. They don’t teach such advanced Spirit Zone techniques in Class Seven.”

Compulsion, however, was a double-edged sword, a precarious mental state.

“He must have mastered it before enrolling here. It helps you endure pain. Sometimes, you need to become a machine to achieve your ambitions.”

Amy held back the rest of her thoughts with her eyes fixed on Sirone, who continued to lead the race. It was as if he was soaring directly toward her. Come on, hurry. I won’t wait for you.

As Sirone maintained his position at the front, Mark’s irritation boiled over. Damn it! Why can’t I get past him? Frustrated with the situation, he shot a fierce look at his strategy team.

The female teammate winced under his gaze. Does he want us to act now? A desperate plan formed in her mind. If we abandon the race and synchronize our magic effectively, we might be able to briefly outpace Sirone. Then we can orchestrate a disqualification.

The problem was that it would be too obvious, yet it seemed a better option than passively accepting defeat. This is a life-or-death matter for me as well. With determination, she conjured a spell with a thunderous surge, blocking Sirone’s path.

“Argh!” Sirone braked abruptly as another member of the tactical team lunged at him from the side.

I’m sorry, but we’re going down together.