Kael stood in the middle of the spacious hall, its walls hidden behind rows of shelves and cabinets crammed with ancient tomes, scrolls, and dust-laden chests. At the center loomed a massive oak table, its surface carved with scratches and faded ink stains—the silent testimony of how many generations of researchers had labored here.

  Earlier, Violet had tossed over her shoulder, “Wait here,” before vanishing down one of the side corridors. Kael hadn’t rushed to sit; instead, he leaned lightly against the table, hands clasped behind his back, letting his gaze wander across the room. The air was thick with the scent of old leather and paper.

  Footsteps drew his attention back. Violet returned, two stacks of heavy books floating at her side. With a flick of her hand, her mana lowered them onto the table, the wood groaning under their weight.

  “Usually the exam is conducted a little differently,” she said, brushing a loose strand of violet hair back into place as she arranged the books. “But since you managed to read the script of the Moon Mage Empire, I decided to make the criteria a bit stricter.”

  Her tone carried both a desire to test Kael and a guarded suspicion she made no attempt to hide.

  Silently, Violet thought: “Though I don’t technically have the authority to alter the exam rules, I doubt anyone will ever find out…”

  Kael only answered calmly, dipping his head slightly, a thin, sly smile flickering across his lips.

  “The harsher the evaluation, the better. That works in my favor.”

  Violet smirked faintly, a mischievous glimmer sparking in her dark eyes.

  “Courage you don’t lack,” she said mockingly, then gestured at the books laid out before him.

  “This is the first of three selection stages. Among these twenty books, only ten have titles related to spirit beasts. Your task is to correctly identify at least five of them. But be warned—if you pick even one extra, the exam ends immediately.”

  She held the pause, eyes fixed on him, and added sternly:

  “You may begin.”

  Kael gave a short nod and strode confidently toward the table. His gaze swept first across the bindings, then over the rune patterns on the spines. He moved unhurriedly, calmly studying the books.

  Violet, stepping aside, folded her arms and watched. On her lips played the faintest of sly smiles, concealing her true intent.

  “Sorry, boy… but you need to be taught a lesson for your arrogance,” she thought. “A student must remain humble.”

  Her eyes flicked to several of the books in particular. Their titles looked straightforward, with runes familiar to most deciphers. But inside the words were deliberate flaws.

  “Even some Masters stumble here. And even if you are a genius, you’re still too young…”

  The thought made her spirit lift. She almost felt her irritation from that earlier embarrassing book incident fueling her eagerness now. This would be her little revenge—not cruel, but the kind that let a mentor put an overconfident pupil in his place.

  “When he falls into my trap, I’ll point out the mistake… then generously allow him to proceed as an exception,” she mused with a smirk. “And then he’ll owe me. He’ll remember always to keep his place.”

  But at that exact moment, Kael’s voice cut across the silence, a question that lashed at Violet like an invisible whip:

  “Master… is this a deliberate test, or a mistake?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly averted her eyes, forcing a crooked smile, as though she’d just been caught red-handed.

  “Uh… what do you mean?” she said awkwardly.

  Kael narrowed his eyes slightly. His tone stayed calm, without mockery—but that only made it more convincing.

  “Before the fall of human mage civilization, there were three great empires: the Moon Mage Empire, the Abyssal Shadow Empire, and the Primal Element Empire. Their scripts differed greatly, but there were overlaps as well. So some runes appear almost identical—yet because of cultural context, they carry completely different meanings.”

  Violet’s jaw nearly dropped. She stared at him, her expression a tangle of astonishment, confusion, and dawning unease.

  “This is… a joke?” she whispered, unable to believe her own ears.

  Kael, oblivious to her reaction, continued in the same calm, assured tone. His fingers trailed along the spine of one book as he spoke:

  “This one. The script here is Abyssal Shadow. At first glance, the title seems to read: ‘Origin of Shadow Spirits.’ But if you look closely at the second rune… it only resembles the symbol for ‘shadow.’ In truth, it’s a rune of the Primal Element Empire, almost identical in shape, but meaning ‘refuge.’”

  He tapped lightly on the binding, letting out a lazy sigh.

  “In that case, the title makes no sense. Obviously, this is either a mistake… or a forgery.”

  Stroking his chin, Kael slowly circled the table, running his gaze once more across all the books. His amber eyes gleamed with focus, as though he were arranging before himself an entire mental map of connections between runes, comparing every detail.

  At last, he began sorting the books into two piles. His movements were steady, deliberate, and carried a cold methodical precision, as if everything were unfolding according to a plan he already knew by heart.

  When the task was finished, he straightened and pointed to the stack that held only five books.

  “If you discard the ones with obvious errors in their titles—only these five are truly dedicated to spirit beasts.”

  The hall sank into silence. Even the dusty air seemed to pause, waiting for Violet’s verdict.

  She stared at the books Kael had chosen, and the corner of her eye twitched nervously.

  “You’re cheating?!” she burst out, unable to believe a newcomer had walked so easily through her trap.

  Kael raised an eyebrow. His tone carried no irritation, only calm irony.

  “First you accuse me of indecency, though it was you who chose the book on lust. Now—of cheating, even though these books were chosen by you as well…”

  He paused, tilting his head slightly, then added more softly, almost with a shade of concern:

  “Master Violet, perhaps you should take a little rest? It seems to me your mind is a bit clouded…”

  The words had barely left his lips when Violet lunged forward and smacked him across the head with all her strength. The blow was hard enough that Kael’s knees buckled, and he barely managed to stay upright.

  “Ow! What was that for?!” he cried, rubbing the sore spot.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my mind!” Violet flared, her cheeks once again flushed scarlet. “I was just testing you!”

  But instead of looking offended, Kael smiled slyly, a mocking spark glinting in his eyes.

  “Isn’t that a bit too difficult a test for an apprentice?” he remarked quietly. “Seems to me you’ve taken a dislike to me…”

  He dropped his gaze a little, feigning sadness, and added more softly, almost with genuine yearning:

  “Master, I only want to do deciphering work. Don’t shut me out on purpose… I truly love this craft.”

  Violet flushed even deeper. A pang hit her heart—she had only meant to tease him a little, to shake the overconfident boy, not to humiliate him. Yet now it felt as though she had painted herself cruel and unfair.

  She lowered her gaze, trying to hide her embarrassment, and muttered, as if excusing herself to no one but her own conscience:

  “N-no… It’s just that you impressed me earlier, so I thought… I’d try giving you a test meant for third-rank Masters. Honestly, I didn’t think you would succeed…”

  Kael seized upon her words at once, his eyes glittering slyly.

  “Truly? You valued me so highly you immediately decided to give me a chance at becoming a Master?”

  Violet winced, as if realizing she had just dug her own grave.

  “Damn it… I can’t give him such a title. It’s against the regulations,” she cursed inwardly, feeling the situation sliding out of her control.

  She spread her hands, stammering:

  “Well… I… In short… I decided…”

  At that moment Kael stepped forward, laid his hand gently on her sleeve, and asked with almost childlike innocence:

  “What exactly did you decide?”

  Violet’s mind raced frantically for a believable lie. Then her eyes gleamed, and a strained smile tugged at her lips.

  “I decided to test you at maximum difficulty. But I don’t have the authority to grant you the rank of Master… However, if you pass the next stages brilliantly, I can speak to the Magisters and try to convince them that you’re a genius.”

  Kael smiled with quiet satisfaction and at once released her sleeve—as though that entire show of “childlike innocence” had been washed away in a single instant. He even gave a short laugh.

  “Then I’ll hold you to your word! A respected Master like you surely wouldn’t break a promise. So I’ll trust you completely!”

  Violet only nodded awkwardly, forcing her expression to stay stern, though inside she was in turmoil.

  “What’s wrong with this brat…” she muttered inwardly. “It feels like I’m dancing to his tune.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  She exhaled heavily, but after a moment of thought added, far more seriously:

  “And yet… I can’t deny his abilities are phenomenal. Maybe the boy really is a genius?”

  Her thoughts were abruptly cut off by Kael’s voice.

  “So, did I pass? Can we move on to the next trial?”

  Violet pulled herself together at once, casting aside her embarrassment and doubts. Her face turned stern again, her voice firm.

  “Yes. You passed brilliantly.”

  She took one of the books from the table, opening it as she explained:

  “These books are mock training texts for exams. Normally we use them differently. Though the title speaks of spirit beasts, inside are collections of proverbs in various languages. The second stage of the exam deals with those.”

  She gave Kael a steady look and continued:

  “An apprentice only needs to grasp the approximate meaning of a proverb. But a Master is required to provide an exact translation and explain the cultural context of its origin.”

  Flipping through a few pages, she met his gaze with open challenge.

  “If you truly want to claim the position of Master—you’ll have to meet those conditions. Are you ready?”

  Kael gave only a slight nod, but his amber eyes gleamed with confidence.

  Violet nodded, squared her shoulders, and carefully chose one of the proverbs. She held her breath for a moment, as though preparing herself for the trial, then drew in a deep breath and spoke:

  “Zhur’kai em’ro dahlun vesh’ta mori.”

  The phrase sounded low and rhythmic, like an alien chant. The words rolled out dark and heavy, like stones dragging across iron. A strange tension filled the hall, as if the speech itself carried something primal.

  Kael narrowed his eyes slightly, never looking away from Violet. For a few seconds he was silent, letting the words pass through his mind, and then he spoke evenly and calmly:

  “The fish in the river always laughs at the tree on the bank.”

  Violet blinked, frowned, and couldn’t help asking:

  “And… what does that mean?”

  A soft smile touched Kael’s lips, as though she had asked something almost too simple.

  “It’s a proverb from the Primal Element Empire. To them, rivers were the sacred arteries of the world. The fish swimming in the water symbolized movement, change, the strength that never stands still. The tree on the bank represented idleness. The fish ‘laughs’ at the tree because the tree remains unmoving.”

  He lifted his chin slightly and added with a touch of irony:

  “In their culture, movement and change were seen as the highest virtues, while stagnation was the mark of weakness. Translated into modern words, the proverb means: ‘Activity is life, idleness is death.’ I wouldn’t be surprised if they used sayings like this to justify their endless wanderings across the world.”

  All trace of a smile vanished from Violet’s lips. She stared at Kael with an expression rare for her—a mix of astonishment and caution.

  “You… explained more deeply than even a Master is required to,” she said slowly, as though making sure she had heard correctly.

  Kael only shrugged, excusing himself:

  “Though the books in the Academy’s library are simple, a lot of this kind of knowledge is hidden in them. It might seem useless for Lasthold… but for anyone who truly wants to become a researcher of antiquity—it’s essential.”

  He spoke with such calm assurance that Violet felt her own words and doubts slipping out from under her.

  Her eyes dropped to the open book. Her fingers drifted over the lines automatically, though everything before her blurred. The skepticism she had carried like a shield began to wane. In its place grew a strange, almost unsettling conviction—this boy before her really was special, though in a way that was profoundly strange.

  “I need to test him blind…” she thought, her pulse quickening.

  Violet flipped rapidly through the book, her fingers skimming across the yellowed pages until she stopped at random somewhere near the middle. Her nail struck a line, and without giving herself time to hesitate, she spoke clearly and rhythmically:

  “Neth’ra vosh’kul dahrin ek’shu.”

  Each word was delivered flatly, without emotion or inflection, leaving Kael not the slightest chance to “guess” by tone or intent. She did everything possible to remove even a hint of trickery.

  But Kael didn’t pause to think. His eyes only narrowed slightly, and in the next instant he answered in a calm, even voice, as if he were reading the translation directly from the page:

  “When the light fades, the rats dance upon the altars.”

  Disbelief flickered across Violet’s face, but Kael went on—still serene, unshaken:

  “This proverb comes from the Abyssal Shadow Empire. It reflects their grim philosophy: when order disappears, chaos always rises. They loved comparing their enemies to rats—base creatures that emerge only in darkness.”

  He spread his hands, gesturing as he explained:

  “But there’s a second layer here. For them, the ‘altar’ symbolized not only the temple, but authority itself. So the deeper meaning is: without a strong hand, any power decays, and the base and unworthy seize it for themselves.”

  Kael paused briefly, narrowing his eyes, his voice soft but carrying an uncanny weight not suited to a youth:

  “Would you like me to explain in more detail? I can elaborate on the religious cults of the Shadows, and how they linked the fall of light to their rituals of sacrifice…”

  He never finished.

  A sharp clap cut him off. Violet had slammed the book shut so hard that a cloud of dust leapt into the air.

  “No need,” she burst out, her voice too loud, almost raw.

  The silence of the hall shivered, heavy with awkwardness. Violet quickly caught herself, cleared her throat, and added more quietly, forcing calm:

  “There’s no need.”

  She turned away, hiding her face and her eyes. Without realizing it, the awe she had felt a moment before had curdled into a strange, unpleasant chill—closer to fear than admiration. Inside her, confusion grew. It all seemed too perfect, too implausible for a mere boy.

  “And my skepticism keeps slipping away… faster and faster…” the thought raced through her mind.

  She lowered her gaze to her own hands and was startled to see her fingers trembling.

  “I’m already a second-rank Master… above me only the first rank and the Magisters. Yet he speaks as though he knows more than I do.”

  The weight of that realization pressed on her chest. She drew a deep breath, and a cold resolve settled in her mind:

  “If this isn’t deception… I must report to Magister Duran. A youth like this… with such knowledge… he could be a blessing to the entire Hall of Ancient Research!”

  She shot a quick glance at Kael.

  He stood there calmly, hands clasped behind his back, face utterly expressionless, as though unaware of the shock his words had caused. That composure only unbalanced Violet further.

  She bit her lip, inhaled deeply, and to mask her own unease, spoke firmly:

  “Very well. You’ve passed two stages. But one remains.”

  With that, Violet bent toward a drawer in the heavy desk and withdrew a thick scroll bound with dark thread. Unfurling it on the table, she gestured toward it.

  “This is a text that has yet to be fully deciphered,” she explained. “The Magisters have determined only its general theme. If you can interpret it completely, I’ll have no doubt that your skills match those of a third-rank Master.”

  Kael nodded without the slightest trace of surprise, as though he had expected nothing less.

  “Very well. But to fully unravel the scroll, I’ll need time.”

  “Of course,” Violet agreed at once, stepping aside to give him space.

  Kael moved to the table with steady calm. He passed his palm over the ancient symbols, as if greeting them, then carefully took up an inkwell and a blank sheet of parchment laid out nearby. His motions were unhurried, deliberate—yet carried something almost ritualistic.

  Violet fell silent, only watching. But in the depths of her heart, her thoughts would not stop:

  “If he succeeds… then I will go to Duran myself. We cannot let such a talent slip away. I can’t even remember the last time in Lasthold’s history someone like him appeared…”

  She immediately pulled herself together, clenching her fingers into a fist.

  “Of course—if he succeeds.”

  Kael, meanwhile, calmly studied the symbols on the ancient scroll. His amber eyes gleamed with a cold light, and in his mind a calculating voice spoke:

  “The text is elementary. But I need to drag this out… I’ve already shown skills that border on the impossible. If I keep working at this pace, they’ll start asking questions I don’t want. Better to allow a few small mistakes—ones that don’t change the meaning but look natural.”

  With that thought, he dipped his quill into the inkwell and began writing in the runes of Lasthold. The lines appeared slowly, as though he weighed each word with great care, though in truth it was easier for him than breathing.

  Violet watched his every move intently. Her gaze caught on the smooth arcs of the quill, on the slight furrow of his brow, as though he were debating with himself.

  “He works too calmly… not at all like a student facing this for the first time. As if he truly has studied deciphering for years… The only question is—how could someone so young have gained such experience?”

  She leaned closer and caught sight of the first lines of translation: words of “lunar cycles,” “sacrificial chalices,” and the “song of night.”

  Her heart skipped. She knew exactly what this scroll was about. The Magisters had left examiners a brief note: the text concerned one of the rituals of the Moon Mage Empire.

  Kael narrowed his eyes slightly and, bending closer to the scroll, deliberately introduced an inaccuracy: instead of the precise term “twin moon,” he wrote the rune for “mirror moon.” To the trained eye it looked like nothing more than a common mistake, one that didn’t change the meaning.

  Time slipped by slowly, the ink flowing in even lines. After several dozen minutes, the parchment was filled with neat rows of translation. Kael placed a final dot, set the quill aside, and leaned back.

  “This describes a ritual of nocturnal ‘soul cleansing,’” he said evenly. “It is tied to the mages of the Moon Mage Empire. They most often contracted with spirits of stars, water, and illusions. This ritual was performed for youths before they made their first contract.”

  He lifted his eyes and, with a faint shrug, added:

  “But honestly, I doubt it had any real practical use. It was more likely part of their culture and religious heritage.”

  Violet nearly dropped the book she was holding. She shoved it behind her back, hiding the tremor in her fingers.

  “Enough,” she said curtly, her tone almost official. “You’ve proven everything you needed to.”

  But in her mind, one thought thundered like a storm:

  “A monster. A true monster! I must… no, I am obligated to report to Magister Duran at once!”

  Hearing her confirmation, Kael drew in a deep breath, letting out a soft exhale of relief, and said with measured restraint:

  “I admit, the exam was harder than I expected. But I’m glad I managed to pass it.”

  A calm, satisfied smile touched his face. He inclined his head in a polite gesture and added:

  “Master Violet, you will keep your word, won’t you?”

  As though waking from the shock of the last few seconds, Violet flinched and answered quickly:

  “Of course. Everyone’s busy right now, but tonight I’ll speak with Magister Duran—the head of our Hall.”

  Kael nodded gratefully, his amber eyes gleaming.

  “Then… what should I do now? I assume I’m not allowed to work until I have official status?”

  Violet confirmed with a short nod, her face settling back into its strict mask:

  “Correct. For now, go home and rest. Come back tomorrow after your Academy classes. By then I should have an answer.”

  Kael bowed politely, hiding his smile. Yet in his eyes danced the same sly gleam he didn’t even bother concealing.

  “Very well. Until tomorrow, Master Violet,” he said evenly.

  Turning, he strode confidently toward the exit. His footsteps echoed through the hall until the heavy door closed slowly behind him.

  Violet followed him with her eyes, standing utterly still. Only when silence returned to the hall did her shoulders sag, and she let out a heavy breath, as though casting off a weight that had been pressing on her all this time.

  “I hope I’m not losing my mind…” she whispered, without realizing she had pressed a hand to her chest. “On the other hand… I see no possible way he could have deceived me…”

  She lowered herself onto the edge of the massive table, clutching her robe tighter as if trying to restore her former composure. But her heart was still beating faster than usual.

  ? ? ?

  Kael, stepping out of the hall, felt invigorated. For a moment, his face no longer resembled that of a quiet Academy student—his eyes gleamed with a predatory light.

  “Everything went even better than I expected,” ran through his mind. “If they make me a master right away, I can start earning and buying pills and potions. The main thing now is to catch up to my peers. That means I must absorb mana with all my strength and form a core as soon as possible.”

  His footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, in rhythm with his thoughts. Kael slipped a hand into his pocket, brushing against emptiness, and continued to himself:

  “But even without money and pills, I have work to do… The time has come to fully explore the Canon of Primordial Void. And then… I’ll begin what I’ve been waiting for all day. No—what I’ve been waiting for my entire life. I will begin becoming a true mage!”

  A sly smile crossed his face once more. Beyond the high windows of the corridor, the sun drifted toward the horizon, spilling into crimson-blue twilight. It felt as if Lasthold itself held its breath in anticipation—waiting for one youth to take his first step toward future power.