Vol3 Chapter 14 Visor

The final announcement echoed throughout the examination grounds.

"The Fourth Examination has officially concluded."

The illusionary battlefield dissolved like mist in the wind. The surviving applicants found themselves once again in the academy plaza, while staff hurried off the unconscious for treatment. Instructors wasted no time counting badges. One by one, applicants handed their spoils—some with reluctance, others brimming with pride as they revealed their stacks, and a few offering nothing but their own. Then, it was Amos’s turn.

"..."

Without a word, he drops every badge he collected.

Clink.

A small pile of badges spilled across the examination table, leaving several examiners blinking in surprise.

"That's quite a collection."

Another instructor couldn't help counting twice.

"How many people did he even eliminate?"

The nearby applicants shot Amos looks that ranged from disbelief to outright resentment, but he remained utterly unfazed.

That was fun.

He hadn’t anticipated the fourth examination to be so much fun. There were ambushes, chases, and several coordinated attacks aimed at him. One especially persistent group had even gone as far as setting traps. It all made the test far more exciting than just taking down monsters.

The examiner looked at him.

"You may keep the collected badges. They serve no further purpose."

Amos's eyes brightened ever so slightly.

'Really?'

He calmly gathered every badge back into his pouch.

'A trophy collection.'

Each badge marked someone he had personally bested. Not out of arrogance, but because they brought back memories of the thrilling battle royale the academy had arranged. They were pleasant souvenirs.

'I should make a display case later.'

The thought alone left him oddly content. Without sparing another look at the crowd, Amos turned and headed toward the academy attendants ready to guide the successful applicants. Temporary rooms had already been prepared for everyone who had survived.

As he walked away, he could feel countless eyes fixed on his back. Some held admiration, others disbelief, but most were filled with irritation.

"...That's him."

"The one who stole my badge."

"He hunted us down like we were prey."

"I still can't believe he walked straight through our formation."

"I never even saw him coming..."

One applicant unconsciously clenched his fists. Another let out a bitter laugh.

"We worked together just to stop him and he still beat all of us."

Several eliminated applicants shot daggers with their eyes at the retreating figure. If looks could kill, Amos would’ve been taken down dozens of times. But unfortunately for them, Amos either didn’t notice—or didn’t care enough to. His mind was already occupied with something else.

'I wonder what dinner the academy prepared. Hopefully there's dessert.'

The thought consumed his mind as he trailed the attendants through the academy halls. Behind him, the defeated applicants kept glaring at his fading silhouette.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Amos never glanced back. To anyone watching, it seemed like he was purposely ignoring them. In truth, he was already past it. The exam was over. The trophies were his. The fun had been had. For Amos, that was enough.

***

The temporary room given to Amos was surprisingly cozy. A large bed sat against one wall, a sturdy desk was placed by a window with a view of the academy grounds, and a wardrobe was already stocked for the new students. It wasn’t lavish by Kyros's standards, but compared to most places on the continent...

"This is nice."

Amos set his travel bag on the bed and unzipped it. Unlike the other noble heirs who arrived with servants and mountains of luggage, he had packed light. Inside were a few changes of clothes, several unfinished books, a notebook brimming with ideas for spells and artifact upgrades, some basic maintenance tools, a tea set, and his favorite pillow.

"Important priorities."

He gave a satisfied nod before pulling out the pillow and setting it neatly on the bed. Much better. Then came a few small boxes, one holding spare magical tools. Amos grinned at the sight of his newly acquired collection of academy badges. He opened the box and carefully arranged each badge inside.

"Perfect."

Each item brought back memories of a different battle—the arrogant noble, the twin brothers who tried to ambush him, the cunning mage, and the stubborn swordsman who fought to the bitter end. A satisfying collection. Closing the box with a sense of contentment, Amos turned and headed toward the full-length mirror beside the wardrobe.

"..."

He stared at his reflection.

"Hmm."

It had been two years since he last truly noticed how much he’d changed. Back then, he still had the unmistakable look of a child. Now, he looked…

"Taller."

He’d gotten quite a bit taller—almost twenty centimeters in the past two years. Not exactly a giant yet, but tall enough that no one automatically thought of him as a little boy anymore. His shoulders had filled out, too. Years of adventuring, training, and reinforcement magic had turned his once-slim frame into a lean, athletic build. He wasn’t as heavily muscled as professional knights like his father or the Reinharts, but there wasn’t an ounce of excess on him. Every movement he made carried the easy balance of someone well used to fighting.

"Not bad."

He turned sideways.

"No longer built like a stick."

Another improvement caught his eye, and then his gaze drifted upward to his golden hair.

"..."

"It has gotten quite long."

Several strands now hung past his ears, the back brushing against his neck, yet it remained unmistakably messy. Some battles left it tied back, but most ended with it somehow even more unruly. Amos picked up a lock between his fingers.

"Hmm..." He tilted his head. "Should I just grow it out completely?"

He imagined it reaching his shoulders.

"Could work."

Then he imagined Elena's reaction.

"Young Master, please sit still for the next forty-five minutes."

"Ugh, that sounds troublesome."

He imagined cutting it shorter.

"Easier maintenance."

Then again, long hair did have a pretty cool vibe.

"..."

Amos stood before the mirror for nearly a full minute.

"Future Amos can decide."

Satisfied with passing the responsibility to his future self, he moved on. His green eyes met their own reflection.

"..."

Something had changed. Sharper, brighter, more alive. He could feel it—a strange power in his eyes that had only grown stronger over the last two years. Thankfully, he’d learned how to control it. Unlike before, when a simple glance could leave people uneasy or unable to meet his gaze, he could now keep most of it in check with steady focus. Most of it, anyway.

He opened another box to find a familiar artifact—a sleek pair of black visor glasses. They looked simple at first glance yet were etched with microscopic enchantments unseen by ordinary eyes. Amos lifted them gently.

"Look at these bad boys."

The visor was originally made because he couldn’t fully control whatever was happening to his eyes. But even as his control improved, his eyes kept growing stronger, as if they were maturing right along with him.

His father had spent an absurd amount of money enchanting the artifact so it could continually suppress the subtle pressure emitted from his eyes without damaging his vision.

"So far..." He smiled faintly. "I haven't needed you."

He set the visor gently in the drawer by the bed instead of putting it away completely. Close enough to grab in an instant, but far enough to avoid the temptation of overusing it. After all, if he kept leaning on restraints, he’d never truly master the skill on his own. Amos glanced at the window, watching the evening sun stretch long shadows over the academy grounds.

Tomorrow marked the start of his journey as an official student of Arianne Academy, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

"I wonder if Elena miss me."