Chapter 509: Evaluation For Freshmen and Seniors 3

The academy was hailed as the greatest learning institution on the continent.

A beacon of enlightenment, it stood as a towering symbol of knowledge and discipline—where wisdom was not merely taught, but passed down like a sacred torch.

Heroes, innovators, generals, and monarchs had once walked its hallowed halls.

To be admitted into its ranks wasn’t just an academic achievement; it was a proclamation—a mark that you were someone who would shape the future.

Inside the stately walls of Killian Hall, one of the many towering structures within the academy, a quiet room glowed with the soft warmth of candlelight.

A young man sat at his desk, the faint scratching of quill on parchment coming to a stop.

Magnus Maverick put down his pen and leaned back slightly, his fingers gently removing the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

“Haah…”

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed the space between his brows.

He stared at the letter in front of him, folded neatly with the seal of his family’s crest prepared beside it.

“I hope… Father and Mother are proud of me.”

His voice was low, barely more than a whisper to himself.

This was the first letter he had ever written directly to them since his admittance into the academy.

Of course, he had received messages from them through the family’s magical communication devices—gentle reminders to keep pushing forward, firm expectations of his future success—but never once had he mustered the courage or time to personally write back.

Now, after nearly a year… he finally did.

He had much to be proud of.

As a son of the prestigious Maverick household, greatness wasn’t just encouraged—it was expected.

Generations of knights, commanders, and war scholars had come from his bloodline.

Being special, being excellent, wasn’t just a dream. It was the bare minimum.

And for a while, Magnus believed he was meeting that standard.

He ranked third among the top ten knight department students in his year—an incredible feat by any metric.

But…

As his fingers traced over the edge of the letter, his thoughts turned dark.

That rank had come with a bitter realization.

Inside this academy, within these walls that housed the future of the continent… being great wasn’t always enough.

Because here, there were monsters disguised as students.

Prodigies who broke records like they were paper.

Freaks of nature who wielded power as if they were born from the gods themselves.

Magnus had witnessed it firsthand.

From duels where a single blow left deep craters in stone floors… to classmates who manipulated the elements as easily as breathing… to Riley, a first-year student who’d already drawn the attention of the imperial princess and was rumored to have defeated several upperclassmen with ease.

The more Magnus saw, the more he came to understand the quiet truth no one wanted to say out loud:

Some people were just built different.

Some people… were born to be the peak.

And the rest of them?

They had to claw and bleed just to keep up.

Still, Magnus didn’t resent them.

Not really.

If anything, he admired them. Envied them, perhaps—but never hated them.

His body lightly trembled.

Just the memory of those piercing blue eyes and that golden blond hair—wild, untamed, dancing like a storm of lightning in human form—was enough to send a chill down his spine.

Riley Hell.

A name that echoed like thunder across the academy halls.

A student not just feared, but revered.

To Magnus, Riley wasn’t just a senior.

He was an aspiration.

A living embodiment of what it meant to be strong—what it meant to dominate without ever having to shout about it.

Even now, Magnus could recall that first time he saw Riley move.

Not in some grand battle or dramatic showcase—just the simple look he gave that day, barely ten seconds long.

And yet, the sheer precision, pressure, and confidence the older boy carried had branded itself into Magnus’s mind ever since.

He had looked on in silence, awestruck and terrified.

He knew it then: he wanted to be just like him.

“I want to become the strongest…”

But Magnus also knew… reality wasn’t that kind.

Dreams weren’t always enough.

No matter how hard he trained or how hard he pushed himself, he could never match someone like Riley—someone who seemed born to stand at the top.

And yet… even if he couldn’t be Riley Hell, maybe he could at least get close.

That was why Magnus considered himself lucky.

Because out of all the people in the knight department… he was personally assigned to Seo Gyeoul.

Seo—one of the few who was said to have fought alongside Riley himself maybe even equal or stronger than hm.

Someone who not only understood his idol’s style but may very well have been trained under him or even fought beside him.

Whether the rumors were true or not didn’t matter.

What mattered was that now, Magnus had someone to guide him.

A chance.

A direction.

A path forward.

His fists clenched tightly at his sides, trembling not from fear—but anticipation.

“The matches will start soon…”

He whispered to himself, eyes burning with a quiet, determined fire.

There were dozens of powerful students in the academy.

Many of them prodigies.

Some of them monsters in human skin.

And all of them, just like him, were chasing after the title of being the top.

But Magnus had something they didn’t.

He had conviction.

He had motivation.

He had someone to look up to, and now—someone to learn from.

This was his second semester.

With the rankings reset, it was like a clean slate had been handed to them all.

A new beginning.

And for Magnus Maverick, this was more than just another semester.

This was his moment.

This was his second chance.

His long-awaited opportunity to show his family—his noble bloodline, the Maverick House—that their faith in him hadn’t been misplaced.

That he wasn’t just another name in the long line of knights, but a worthy heir of the Marquis of Maverick.

He didn’t know exactly what the test would be.

But under the tutelage of someone who once stood beside Riley Hell himself…

He believed that this time, he could break past his limits.

That this time, he wouldn’t falter.

That this time… he would rise.

Yes…

That’s what he thought.

But reality, as always—was never quite so kind.

FOOOOOSHHHH!!!!

“AGHHHH!”

The air roared as flames erupted toward him like a tidal wave of fire.

Magnus barely managed to raise his mana shield—but the metal melted on contact, his defense crumbling into slag within seconds.

He stumbled backward, coughing, the heat searing his lungs.

His armor was singed, smoking.

And before him, wreathed in fire like a goddess of wrath—stood her.

Princess Stacia Alger Del Luna.

Crimson orange flames curled around her like living serpents, dancing along her limbs, licking at the air with manic hunger.

She wasn’t even out of breath.

She walked forward, calm and elegant—like she was gliding through war.

Not a hair out of place.

Not a hint of struggle in her eyes.

Magnus collapsed to his knees, body trembling, eyes wide in disbelief.

“H-How…?”

All of his effort.

His sleepless nights.

His training under Seo.

His hunger to catch up.

Everything—

Completely erased.

Snap!

With just a simple snap of her fingers—

His body ignited in a cascade of orange flames.

“GAAAAH!!!”

The world disappeared into a wall of fire.

He was burning—his thoughts, his senses, his very existence consumed by it.

Suddenly—

White.

Bright, sterile white.

Magnus gasped, thrashing violently as he came to.

“Haaaghh!! Haaaagh!!!”

He lay atop a pristine bed, drenched in sweat and shivering.

Around him were other students, similarly shaken, many of them screaming or crying as they awoke from the illusion of death.

“It’s alright, you’re safe!”

“Healers! Over here—his vitals are unstable!”

“He’s mentally rattled—grab the Celestial Stabilizer, now!”

Medical staff in white robes rushed to his side.

But Magnus couldn’t respond.

His eyes were locked on the large floating screen above them all—still projecting the results.

[FRESHMEN: MAGNUS MAVERICK — ELIMINATED]

His vision blurred.

His ears rang.

He couldn’t move.

He had failed.

Not because he was weak…

But because the people at the top—people like her—were simply monsters.

As the cold grip of unconsciousness took him, one final thought echoed in his mind:

“I’m still… so far behind.”

…..

“Looks like another one of the Top 10 bites the dust…” I muttered, eyes scanning the sky above where the large floating hologram shimmered with bright golden letters.

[FRESHMEN: MAGNUS MAVERICK — ELIMINATED]

[POINT RANKING: STACIA ALGER DEL LUNA – 4]

“…Wasn’t he one of your students, Seo?”

“Yes,” she replied softly. “He was a nice kid,”

I glanced at her.

Though her posture was the same, arms folded neatly across her chest and her red eyes expressionless, I could tell she had hoped for something different.

Seo rarely ever said anything without meaning—and calling someone ‘nice’ meant she genuinely saw something in them.

But maybe that’s just how this evaluation works.

I let out a short exhale as my gaze shifted back toward the projection in the sky.

Magnus… he tried.

But when faced with Stacia?

It was a one-sided slaughter.

Well… I suppose this outcome was inevitable.

After all, I didn’t just train Stacia—I optimized her.

Tailored her route. Upgraded her specs. Accelerated her growth beyond her canon pacing.

She wasn’t just strong—she was a walking inferno, blazing toward her destiny.

So naturally, anyone standing in her path—would burn.

As her master, I couldn’t help but feel proud.

Still, part of me wished I had seen the fight in person rather than just watching it through the massive sky-projected hologram that displayed each elimination like some public scoreboard.

I turned my head to the side, gaze falling on the girl beside me.

“By the way, Seo…” I muttered. “We’re still technically enemies in this evaluation, right?”

“…Yes,”

“Then… why are you here?”

“…I wanted to be with you,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“…Right,”

‘God… why is this girl so adorable?’

I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the warmth rising to my ears.

Seo, being Seo, just stood there, unmoved by the situation—calm, composed, yet somehow sneakily affectionate in her own way.

I sighed internally, smiling just a little.

Well… I didn’t really mind.

Still seated on the tree top, I closed my eyes briefly and expanded my mana sense across the area.

A pulse of awareness rippled out from me like an invisible sonar, brushing past trees, structures, and mana signatures alike.

I felt dozens of presences scattered around the forest—students, teachers, observers—some hiding, some hunting, others already eliminated.

Above us, more golden names flashed into the sky.

[FRESHMEN: ARDEN VALE — ELIMINATED]

[FRESHMEN: LEIA DONMAR — ELIMINATED]

[FRESHMEN: CLIVE TESSEN — ELIMINATED]

One after another, they were being taken down.

Some by seniors.

Others by their own peers.

One thing was certain though—

The evaluation had officially begun.

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