The questioning hall had cylindrical walls whose height dwarfed Leomaris entirely. Twelve long white banners were draped across the room, and the ceiling bore an evenly oval surface not unlike the podium beneath Leomaris’s feet. What stood out, though, was the reddish sun carved into the ceiling, implying the Firstlight Goddess was always watching.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

His gaze moved quietly across each of the banners. Leomaris didn’t need an explanation, he knew what they meant. And even if he hadn’t, the overwhelming presence in the room would have told him more than enough.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Each banner had one of the academy’s twelve Archmages behind it. These were mages who had perfected their abilities entirely, figures of great prominence within the institution.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

’Fifty questions, was it...? Why are they so quiet, though? I know they aren’t here in person, but aren’t they supposed to be asking questions already?’

No sooner had those thoughts settled than a daunting voice came from his left.

"Gentleman, let us begin."

Leomaris’s attention shifted at once. But turning the voice over in his head nearly made him think it was the hardest question he’d ever faced. It sounded like a woman and yet carried enough depth to make him second-guess himself entirely.

"Yes, Archmage."

"Before anything else, you stand before the Twelve Archmages. You will be asked fifty questions regarding your identity and the kingdom’s history, and you will have only seconds to respond. Any delay beyond that will not be accepted."

Barely enough time to respond, and then a gentler tone came through with another question.

"We will begin with identification. State your name."

"I am Leomaris Runerth, second son of the Runerth family."

They knew who he was already. Who his butler Hazel was. Everything Leomaris had done, nicknames on the streets, Aaron’s recent betrayal, all of it. They knew everything before he’d walked through that door.

A third voice cut through immediately, firm but carrying a genuine feminine edge.

"What goals were you seeking to achieve in this institution?"

A soft smile tugged at Leomaris’s lips. Being honest with them had nearly made him laugh. Who attended a military academy for anything less than wealth and power? Those thoughts, he kept to himself.

"I sought to make good use of my existence, Archmage, to devote myself to the Goddess in all things: my breath, my steps, and even my tears, and to use my skills in service of her beloved kingdom."

"Your existence... are you saying you’re willing to die for the Firstlight Goddess and the Kingdom?"

"Yes, Archmage. I will carry it out with honor."

The silence stretched long. Leomaris felt his soul beginning to leave his body. Failing this interview wasn’t an option, even if grovelling before these old bastards was what it took. But he hadn’t expected that kind of response to a textbook answer.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The silence broke at last, a distorted tone cutting through it. "Understood. Next."

"You are widely known as a ruffian. How true is this?"

Leomaris gulped. Lying wasn’t an option, they already knew everything about him. But he still needed to play his cards right.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"That is correct, Archmage. I have been a disgrace to the Runerth family for as long as I can remember. How—

"Stop!" It was the commanding tone, breaking through the room. The sheer intensity had Leomaris shivering for just a moment. "Next."

"How many people did you manage to wrong with that notorious behavior of yours?"

Leomaris gritted his teeth in irritation. He’d thought he at least had everything mapped out, but these people had made up their minds to use his past against him.

"I don’t—

"Next!"

"On the 24th of August, 1854, you were reportedly involved in dismantling the Firstlight Goddess’s statue and causing a disturbance at the Church of Hopes. Is that true?"

His heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, Archmage."

"Do you honestly think these actions should qualify you as a cadet at this institution?"

"..."

His eyes stayed on the floor, he couldn’t bring himself to raise them toward any of the banners. Failure could still be avoided, he knew that. But the way they’d hammered questions after his answer about devoting himself to the Goddess made it feel as though they were trying to make him fail on purpose.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Now, we proceed to history."

A calm and gentle tone came through, almost as if the person behind it was deliberately trying to lift Leomaris out of his slump. For some reason, it worked. He raised his head and turned in the direction of the voice, expression set with renewed determination.

"Who are the Seekers?"

"The Seekers were a group of individuals from the West Dean Kingdom who, 1,500 years ago, embarked on a journey to understand the world. Their expedition ultimately led to the creation of the First Stage of Magic."

Reading over five hundred Chapters had taught him enough. He knew more about this world’s history than he ever wanted to.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Magic? Why do you call the ritual magic?"

A slight narrowing of the eyes, confusion. He knew the Five Stages of Magic was one of the academic world’s most controversial topics. People argued endlessly over whether "magic" was even the right word.

Some believed "magic" was just an extension of the world and shouldn’t be considered "magic."

He just hadn’t expected these people to be among the doubters.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"What the Seekers discovered in the Red Sea, the Red Mountains, and the Crimson Continent were phenomena that could not be explained by the logic of their time. However, I believe they regarded all such occurrences as miracles... in other words, magic."

"What about the Re-Seekers and Prof. Zenith? Do you think they considered it magic but not part of our world?"

He took a deep breath. The novel had covered this thoroughly, but he couldn’t help wondering how these people were this oblivious. It didn’t matter. A strong enough explanation here could overshadow the disgrace from earlier.

"The Re-Seekers based their research on the records of the Seekers. To them, the anomalies of this world were no longer regarded as magic once they had been explained.

However, their discovery of an external force was something new, something not documented in the Seekers’ works. This is why it is classified as the Second Stage of Magic."

Leomaris held his ground on the podium, taking in the moment. The silence from the Archmages made him feel nearly invincible.

"Prof. Zenith is no different. When he developed the Third and Fourth Stages, he had sufficient resources to build upon. However, he was able to identify the Genesis, something he himself acknowledged was beyond his comprehension.

The creator of this world, whose blood formed the seas, whose tears became the rivers, whose heart became the sun, and whose insides became the creatures, provided the foundation scholars later used to create grimoires at the Fifth Stage."

"Each stage did not redefine reality," Leomaris said, "only the limit of what they could explain. And beyond that limit, everything has always been called magic."

The room stretched into silence before the daunting voice from before broke through again.

"So you’re saying that anything beyond our understanding and comprehension should be considered magic?"

Leomaris shrugged, silent. He genuinely didn’t care: Five Stages of Magic, Five Stages to the Grimoires, or whatever they preferred. As long as the marks came through, they could call it quantum physics, and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

"Yes, Archmage."

"Impressive. Next."

Leomaris frowned, ’Impressive? They knew it was magic all along?’

"After reaching the Fifth Stage of Magic, who turned the Prism Kingdom’s kindness into bloodshed and assassinated Emperor George II?"

"It was the barbarian traitor of the Braek Kingdom... Emperor Jovanny."

The revelation that the magic questions were a test still had him in awe, but it had worked, keeping him sharp and answering each one as though the slightest mistake could lead to failure. Soon after the forty-ninth question, he braced himself for the trickiest question of all.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"The last question..." the voice that came through was the same gentle tone that gave him motivation moments ago. "Who are you?"

The fiftieth question was always the same. The main character had faced it in the novel and failed, and the author had never once revealed the correct answer. But after a week in this world, Leomaris believed he had it. The question almost no student had ever passed.

One knee to the ground, eyes pressed against the polished floor in submission.

"I am whatever the kingdom requires of me, Archmage."

A heaviness settled over the questioning hall. For a moment, all Leomaris could hear were whispers and murmurs among the Archmages. That alone said enough.

Despite working together for ages, these Archmages didn’t even know each other’s identities, and even now, they weren’t physically on campus but operating through relics. And yet the hums and whispers between them felt as though they shared one mind.

Before long, an old and fragile voice broke the silence. "We are done here. You may take your second exam this instant."

As soon as the words left them, a staff member entered, pressed a switch, and the walls spun. They glitched like illusions, and then everything went dark.

"Let’s begin preparations for the Strategic Warfare and Tactics exam immediately."