Chapter 47: Registration [3]

The young priest guided Rael out of the church hall and down another corridor. The red stone and incense faded behind them, replaced once more by the clean white walls of the Association. They stopped at a wide set of automatic doors. The priest gestured for him to enter and then left without another word.

Inside, four other people already sat on a row of plain metal chairs. All of them looked up when Rael stepped through the doorway. The room was rectangular and windowless, lit by bright overhead panels. Several cameras hung from the ceiling, their lenses slowly panning across the group. Someone was clearly watching.

Rael took an empty seat. A moment later the large screen mounted on the far wall flickered to life. The image of a young woman with bright orange hair appeared. She was strikingly beautiful—clear skin, sharp eyes, the kind of face that held attention without effort. She opened her mouth to speak, then turned her head sharply to the left as if someone off-camera had interrupted her.

"Wait, why do I have to do this?"

A muffled voice answered from somewhere beside her. "Just do it, idiot."

The five candidates exchanged confused glances. The orange-haired woman scowled, then forced herself to face the camera again.

"Fine. Argh... All right. Welcome, young awakeners." Her tone made it obvious she would rather be anywhere else. "For this stage you will destroy the dummies on your left. We need to measure both your aim and the raw power of your skills. This room is reserved for mage-class individuals only, so temporary wands have been provided. If you miss the target three times, you fail. You may reapply after three months."

The left wall slid upward with a mechanical hum, revealing a long testing range. Several white humanoid dummies stood at varying distances, their surfaces smooth and unmarked.

Tension settled over the room. Rael felt it too. In the Dream Realm he had used Fireball and Ignite at close range, often guided by the precision of the temporary Archer skills. Those skills were gone now. He would have to rely entirely on what remained.

"Lucas Grey," the woman on the screen called.

A short boy with nervous eyes stood up. His hands were already trembling as he walked to the marked line and picked up one of the provided wands. The tip shook visibly.

"Wind Cutter."

A thin blade of compressed air shot forward, but it lost coherence long before reaching the nearest dummy and dissipated harmlessly. Lucas’s face tightened. He tried again.

"Wind Cutter!"

The second attempt flew even wider, striking the reinforced ceiling with a dull thud. The room was built to handle far worse; the impact left no damage.

"Last chance, Lucas," the orange-haired woman said, not unkindly but without warmth.

The boy looked ready to cry. His shoulders were locked tight, his breathing short and uneven. Rael stood and walked over. He placed a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder.

"Lucas, right?"

The boy nodded quickly.

"Mind if I give you a little advice?"

Another nod, this one filled with desperate relief.

"First, relax your shoulders. You’re not holding a gun. The wand doesn’t need that much tension." Lucas forced his shoulders down. "Now, instead of thrusting straight forward, swing the wand from left to right as you release the skill. Create a wider spiral of wind. That will let it travel farther and give you a better chance of connecting. Aim at the center of the dummy and let the motion do the work. Good luck."

From the chairs a girl with red hair let out a short, mocking laugh. "If you can’t even manage this much, maybe you should just go home, crybaby."

Rael ignored her. Lucas drew a slow breath, adjusted his stance the way he had been told, and raised the wand again.

"Wind Cutter."

This time the air twisted into a broad spiral. It crossed the distance and struck the dummy cleanly on the upper arm. White material flaked away, then immediately began to regenerate.

The woman on the screen smiled for the first time. "Passed. You may proceed to the next stage."

Lucas turned to Rael, eyes bright with leftover adrenaline and gratitude. He bowed deeply. "Thank you so much."

"It wasn’t much," Rael said. "You would have figured it out. I only helped with the nerves."

The boy bowed once more and hurried toward the exit door that had just unlocked. The orange-haired woman watched the exchange with open interest.

The red-haired girl stood and walked over to Rael, arms crossed. "You know this is a competition, right? You can’t keep helping him. He has to learn to do it himself."

Rael met her gaze calmly. "You’re not wrong. He can’t depend on someone else forever. But just now the problem wasn’t his skill—it was anxiety. If he failed today because of that, the same fear would follow him next time. I only removed the fear. Everything else he did on his own."

She studied him for a second, then gave a small, reluctant shrug. "You’re weird."

Rael only smiled.

"Next," the woman on the screen announced, "Clara Rose."

The red-haired girl—Clara—walked to the line, picked up a wand, and settled into a clean stance.

"I’m ready. Fire Slash."

A sharp arc of flame left the wand and struck the dummy square in the chest on the first attempt. The material blackened and peeled away before regenerating. The entire sequence took less than three seconds.

"Passed," the woman said.

Clara walked toward the exit, then stopped and leaned against the wall, clearly intending to watch the remaining tests.

"Now next—Rael Ashborne."

Rael stepped forward to the line and picked up the waiting wand. The cameras turned to follow him. The orange-haired woman on the screen rested her chin on one hand, suddenly paying closer attention.

He stood in the quiet room, five pairs of eyes on him, and prepared to show them what an Infernomancer could actually do.

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