Mirac and Carmen entered the room, their footsteps echoing faintly on the stone floor.
Room 03 was a spacious yet austere space, with smooth stone walls and tall windows that let in the morning light, casting golden patches across the floor.
Rows of wooden desks, arranged in neat order, accommodated about thirty aspiring adventurers.
Some tapped their fingers on the worn wood of their desks, others stared into space with tense expressions, while a couple cast furtive glances towards the door.
The arrival of Mirac and Carmen drew a few curious looks, but no one could comment due to the silence imposed by the rules.
The air was thick with tension, broken only by the ticking of an hourglass placed on a podium at the end of the room.
Standing beside the desk, an elderly man stood out with his rail-thin figure, wrapped in a worn gray robe, its edges embroidered with golden flames that seemed to come alive with every movement.
He had white hair tied back in an orderly ponytail and a pair of thick glasses that slid down his nose.
A silver pin on his robe bore the name "Archmage Eldrin Masjo."
There was no doubt: he was the Master and supervisor of the Written Test!
So, when Mirac and Carmen read that name, they didn't hesitate and approached him.
Upon reaching the elderly man, Mirac and Carmen didn't forget the prohibition on speaking—nor the warning from Mrs Rose.
Thus, without a sound escaping their lips, Mirac and Carmen stepped forward and handed him their registration forms, taking care to make as little noise as possible.
Under his black mask, Mirac observed Eldrin as he took the papers with a slow gesture, briefly glancing at the names—Isaac Belgram and Ananya Shak—before placing them on the desk, where they joined a neat stack of other forms.
"Isaac and Ananya, correct?" he asked, his voice raspy but authoritative. "The Written Test will begin in five minutes. No talking, no distractions. Take your seats at the desks and wait for the test to start."
Mirac nodded, a short and decisive gesture, while Carmen responded with an equally silent nod.
Then, without a word, the two separated, choosing desks far apart to avoid any suspicion.
Mirac sat toward the back, near a window, while Carmen settled in the middle of a central row.
After sitting, Mirac closed his eyes and summoned the vision of his "Immaterial Clock," the ability that allowed him to know the time with precision.
The ethereal hands, visible only to him in his mind, marked 8:55 in the morning…
* * *
{ FIVE MINUTES LATER… }
When the last grain of sand slipped through the hourglass and the last candidate rushed in, an even deeper silence fell over Room 03.
Master Eldrin cleared his throat, drawing the candidates' attention.
"Welcome to the Written Test of the Admission Exam for the Association," he began with a raspy but clear voice. "My name is Eldrin, and I will be your supervisor for the Written Test."
He paused, letting his words settle like a weight over the room.
"The rules are simple," he continued, his tone unyielding. "Answer the questions with precision and honesty. You have one hour. Naturally, no cheating, magic, or consultations of any kind are permitted. Anyone attempting to cheat will be disqualified immediately. Furthermore, remember that speaking is strictly prohibited until the test is over. Is that clear?"
The silence that followed was a more eloquent response than any words.
"Very well…" Eldrin murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "I will now pass among the desks to distribute the question sheets. At my signal, you may begin."
That said, with a slow, almost ceremonial gesture, he took a bunch of keys from the cuff of his tunic, then opened a drawer of the desk.
From there, he pulled out a stack of protocol sheets, each carefully folded and sealed with a wax ribbon.
After closing the drawer, Eldrin moved between the desks with measured steps, handing a packet of exam papers to each candidate. His bony fingers placed each sheet precisely, and his eyes scanned the tense faces.
Mirac took his dossier, placing it on the desk with a cautious gesture.
On the first page, in black ink and austere calligraphy, the title stood out: "Written Test for the Admission Exam to the Association."
The inner contents, however, remained hidden, a mystery waiting to be unveiled.
Having completed the distribution of the sheets, Eldrin returned to the desk.
With a deliberate movement, he opened another drawer of the desk and extracted a box filled with black pens.
Then, he returned among the desks, handing each candidate a pen, one after another.
After delivering the last pen to the final candidate, Eldrin returned to the desk and put the box back in its place, with the same calm with which he had taken it out.
Finally, he grasped the hourglass, flipped it with a quick wrist gesture, and the sound of the sand resuming its flow filled the room.
"Let the Written Test begin!" Eldrin proclaimed, his voice echoing off the stone walls.
In an instant, a chorus of rustling rose from the desks.
The candidates broke the wax seals, opened their sealed booklets, and—without further hesitation—immersed themselves in the questions, eyes tense and focused, as pens began to move—swiftly across some pages, hesitantly across others—chasing down the easiest answers to grasp.
Mirac broke the seal on his own booklet, finding himself faced with a slew of questions covering a wide range of topics: basic knowledge of the geography of the Kingdom of Ardorya, survival skills, combat tactics, monster identification, and finally, a set of theoretical questions on magic and Mana.
Mirac narrowed his eyes beneath the mask.
'Heh! This is going to be a breeze!' he thought, grabbing his pen with determination and starting by writing his full name at the top of the answer sheet: Isaac Belgram.
* * *
The exam proceeded without issues.
Mirac answered each question with precision and flawlessly.
His handwriting, despite his missing arm, was extraordinarily neat.
Every now and then, though, he glanced toward Carmen, curious.
Like the other candidates, the red-haired woman appeared fully focused on the exam, her pen moving with steady confidence, as if every answer were already etched into her mind.
Meanwhile, time flowed relentlessly, marked by the ticking of the hourglass.
To ensure everything proceeded without cheating, Master Eldrin walked slowly between the desks, hands clasped behind his back, the rustle of his worn robe blending with the sound of the hourglass and the scratching of pens on paper.
His sharp eyes seemed to catch every detail: one candidate biting his lip, another frantically erasing a wrong answer, and one staring into space, lost in his own thoughts.
Mirac, however, was immune to those distractions.
His world had narrowed to the sheet before him, the questions challenging him, and the pen that tamed them.
* * *
After nearly an hour of intense work, Mirac had answered almost all the questions.
His hand moved swiftly across the paper, tracing words with confidence, while his eyes returned repeatedly to the lines he had already written, rereading to make sure he hadn't made any mistakes.
At that point, the only question he had left to tackle concerned the history of the Association:
'Who founded the Association, and when?'
The answer was clear and firmly etched in his memory:
'The Association was founded by Ser Alaric Keol in the year 333, after the Great Extermination, to unite warriors from all over the world against magical beasts and the threats posed by the Dungeons,' Mirac recalled.
With a steady hand, he began writing out the answer, letting the words flow without hesitation.
But as he wrote the final sentence, a doubt began to creep into his mind. His pen slowed, then stopped entirely.
He set it down calmly and began to reread what he had just written.
The kind of answer he had given was one that any scholar could have provided.
And yet, he wondered if it wasn't a little too precise for a "mere swordsman" with no declared experience.
In fact, now that he thought about it, all of his answers suffered from this same problem!
But still, after a few more seconds spent thinking about it, Mirac shrugged.
'If I'm here, they'll assume I studied. So, there shouldn't be a problem with answering all the questions precisely.'
With that thought, with only a few minutes left, Mirac leaned back in his chair to rest and let his gaze wander around the room.
Carmen finished shortly after him, carefully closing her exam booklet and gently placing her pen beside it.
Other candidates, however, were still scribbling, their foreheads furrowed and hands stained with ink.
When the hourglass emitted a final, faint tick, Eldrin clapped his hands, the sound echoing like a hammer blow.
"Time's up!" he announced, his voice leaving no room for protest. "Put down your pens and leave your sheets on the desks. Anyone who tries to write further will be disqualified."
A chorus of sighs and muffled murmurs rose from the room. Some candidates hurried to finish a last sentence but stopped under Eldrin's gaze, who had already moved to collect the packets.
He passed between the desks with the same ritualistic calm, his fingers grasping each sheet as if weighing its value.
After gathering the papers, the old master Eldrin placed them in a drawer of the desk, locking it with a decisive gesture. Then, with slow but steady steps, he distributed the registration forms back to the candidates, finally returning to the front of the classroom.
"The Written Test is officially concluded," he announced with a grave voice, turning to face the group.
A chorus of relieved sighs rose in the room.
The candidates exchanged glances, some whispering excitedly, others quietly comparing their answers.
But the buzz didn't last long.
Eldrin clapped his hands, regaining attention.
"The results of the Written Test will be posted only after the Exam is complete," he proclaimed. "In the meantime, those who declared possession of a Mana Core during the registration phase are requested to remain here for the measurement of their Magical Energy in Room 03M," he said, pointing to the massive wooden door at the back of the room. "For security and privacy reasons, we will ensure the confidentiality of your data by calling you one by one. Those who do not possess a Mana Core are free to leave and wait for the start of the Physical Test, which will take place in two separate areas, depending on your Class: to be more specific, Archers and Mages must head to Arena 01, while Tankers, Assassins, Swordsmen, and other close-combat classes are requested to proceed to Arena 02. In both cases, the Physical Test will begin precisely at 11 o'clock."
A murmur spread among the group.
Some exchanged uncertain glances, others straightened up, ready to prove their worth. Seven candidates, lacking a Mana Core, stood and left the room in silence.
Mirac felt a shiver of anticipation.
'The number of Layers and Orbits in a Mana Core reflects a person's magical potential,' he thought. 'It's a crucial detail for anyone aspiring to become an Adventurer or join a renowned Guild!'
But none of that truly interested Mirac.
In fact, knowing that the Mana measurement results would remain private reassured him: the fewer prying eyes on his true strength, the better to avoid being discovered.
With the necessary preliminaries made, Master Eldrin called the first candidate: "Number 1, Felisia Tausah."
A young girl with a bob haircut and an intense gaze stood up at the sound of her name.
The soft rustle of the chair sliding caught the attention of the other candidates for a moment.
With a deep breath, the girl walked toward the back of the classroom, where the elderly Master Eldrin was already waiting in front of the massive oak door that led to the infamous Room 03M.
Without saying a word, Eldrin took the small bunch of keys from the cuff of his sleeve and, with measured movements, inserted the right one into the lock.
The key turned with a faint metallic click, and immediately after, the master pushed the doors open, which creaked deeply and gravely, as if they had been closed for centuries.
Beyond the threshold, almost nothing could be seen: only a corridor shrouded in twilight and irregularly lit by torches fixed to the walls, whose flickering light cast distorted shadows on the stone floor.
The girl didn't hesitate and crossed the threshold with determined steps.
Eldrin followed closely behind, and as soon as both passed through the entrance, the doors shut behind them with a dull, final sound, leaving the classroom in an even deeper silence.
Carmen, meanwhile, remained motionless in her seat, arms crossed and gaze fixed ahead.
Mirac, on the other hand, tapped his fingers on the desk—an instinctive gesture to dispel boredom.
Though there was more to it than just boredom…
Sitting in the classroom, in front of a scratched-up desk, with the murmur of his classmates commenting on the test they had just taken, he felt trapped in a déjà vu…
That moment, frozen in time, brought back old memories of his previous life, when, as Vector, he attended school…
Mirac vividly recalled the sleepless nights spent flipping through math books, lost among formulas and numbers that seemed written in an incomprehensible language.
In reality, at first, Vector (Mirac) didn't hate school.
He didn't despise it at all.
But after being held back multiple times and forced to repeat the first year over and over, everything became heavier, increasingly difficult to bear.
It was after his third failure, in fact, that his classmates began to target him!
When it became known that he couldn't even do the simplest math calculations, like 3 + 4, Vector quickly became the laughingstock of the school!
Even now, he could still hear the cruel laughter and taunts from those years, when they called him "The Stupidest of the Stupid."
A nickname ironically similar to Blake's, "The Weakest of the Weak."
'Maybe that's why I got so upset with those arrogant jerks who insulted him…' Mirac thought, shaking his head to dispel those bitter memories.
* * *
After a few minutes, the old Eldrin returned alone from the room at the back of the classroom, his wrinkled face and hands carefully holding the list of names to call—the edges of the parchment were slightly crumpled.
Once he arrived, he wasted no time and immediately called the next candidate: "Number 2, Korren Halstead."
* * *
The process continued, with each candidate entering through the door, and probably—just as Mirac had guessed—exiting through another right after the measurement.
Only Master Eldrin returned each time to Room 03, calling out the names one after another in a calm but authoritative tone that echoed through the silent classroom.
* * *
Time seemed to stretch in that slow succession of calls.
But after half an hour, Eldrin finally reappeared and pronounced the name of the red-haired woman: "Number 30, Ananya Shak."
Carmen moved without hesitation, her steps decisive but light.
Mirac followed her with his gaze, curiosity burning within him.
'I wonder how many Layers of a Mana Core she truly possesses. Fifteen? Maybe even twenty?'
He couldn't imagine what Carmen's true potential was, but the way she fought suggested to him that she wasn't an ordinary swordswoman.
To move as she usually did in battles, she had to possess not only a certain amount of Mana but also precise and meticulous control over her magical energy.
As Mirac reworked his thoughts and theories—frustrated by the fact that he knew nothing about the red-haired woman's abilities—Carmen headed toward the door, where Eldrin was already waiting for her.
When they both crossed the threshold, the solid wooden structure closed behind them with a dull thud.
Without even realizing it, Mirac found himself staring at the closed door, as if he could somehow glimpse what lay beyond the heavy wood.
But then, with a deep breath, Mirac looked away and slowly let himself sink back against the chair's backrest.
'Focus, Mirac... It'll be your turn soon!'
* * *
Meanwhile, on the top floor of the Association's headquarters, Mrs Rose stopped in front of an imposing double wooden door at the end of a long corridor.
She carried a clipboard with several attached sheets, which she held firmly in her left hand, while with the other she knocked with two sharp raps.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," a raspy voice responded from within.
Mrs Rose took a deep breath, opened the door, and closed it quickly behind her.
"Good morning, President Jun," she said, accompanying her words with a slight bow.
Behind a wide desk, an elderly man with gray hair gazed at the city through a large arched window.
He wore an impeccable white shirt, black trousers held up by a leather belt, and held a freshly lit cigar between his fingers.
Despite his advanced age, he maintained a toned physique, broad shoulders, and a stature that exuded calm, solid authority.
"Good morning to you too, Mrs Rose," the man named Jun said, turning to her with a nod. "How can I assist you?"
Rose advanced with measured steps, the clipboard pressed to her chest.
"President Jun," she began, placing the clipboard on the desk with a cautious gesture, "Blake Adson returned last night from his week of exploration. This morning, he came to me to report all the various dangerous places he found, including those that, in his opinion, could turn into a Dungeon at any moment. Normally, I would have discussed this with Vice President Hejik, but…" She paused, her face suddenly tense. "This time, there's a rather ambiguous and disturbing report… Something I believe you absolutely need to see for yourself, President Jun…"
Jun raised an eyebrow.
'I've never seen Mrs Rose this agitated…' he thought. 'What in the world did Blake find this time?'
The gray-haired man approached the desk, grabbed the clipboard, and quickly skimmed through the information.
The pages contained a neatly organized list of the locations explored and recorded by Blake: dates, coordinates, brief operational descriptions.
Everything seemed perfectly normal.
No detail out of place, nothing unusual…
However, the President soon came across something completely unexpected:
"What?! A nest of Rogthars?!" Jun exclaimed, caught off guard. "You mean those Rogthars? The very same demonic creatures that went extinct over a thousand years ago during the Great Extermination?" He lifted his gaze from the paper, eyes wide in disbelief. "This must be a joke, right?!"
"I'm afraid not, President Jun. Blake Adson has never made mistakes in his reports," Rose replied. "According to what he stated, it seems he was exploring an unknown cave—located about eight hours' walk northwest—when, suddenly, he found himself face-to-face with creatures he identified as Rogthars. Fortunately, while trying to escape from three of those monsters, he was saved by two travelers who happened to be passing by."
Jun remained silent for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the clipboard, as if struggling to believe what he was reading.
"Two travelers, you said?" Jun wore a thoughtful expression, stroking his chin. "Well, if that's the case, Blake must have been really lucky to come across someone skilled enough to overcome demonic creatures believed to have been extinct since time immemorial…" he said with an ironic tone, revealing his disbelief at that surprising coincidence, before raising his gaze back to the woman. "But tell me, Mrs. Rose: do we know anything about these two supposed travelers?"
"Kind of," Rose replied. "Last night, they arrived in the city for the first time with Blake and applied for individual Temporary Residence Permits. They checked in at the west gate, registering as Ananya Shak and Isaac Belgram. But honestly, I doubt those are their real names. One of them even wears a mask to avoid being seen."
"Wait a minute…" Jun interrupted her. "Someone just came to tell me there was a fight this morning between Simner's son and a masked guy. Is he, by any chance, the boy you were talking about?"
"Exactly!" confirmed Rose. "He's one of the two travelers who saved Blake's life. And right now, both of them are participating in the Admission Exam to become Mercenaries of the Association."
Jun flipped through more pages of the clipboard, until he found the ones with the personal information of Isaac and Ananya.
"What should we do, President Jun?" asked the elderly Rose, her voice tinged with slight fear.
Jun remained silent for a moment, then closed the clipboard with a decisive gesture.
"Well, we have no other choice…" he said. "Mrs. Rose, send our most experienced team of explorers to the reported cave. Instruct them to suspend or postpone any assignments they have planned, because this mission takes absolute priority! Their task will be to verify the accuracy of Blake's report, avoiding direct confrontation with the creatures if possible. If these really are Rogthars, facing them without proper preparation could prove extremely dangerous. Therefore, as a precaution, assign two adventurers of Refined Blade rank to accompany the team during the operation. Furthermore, until we confirm the situation, ensure the Rogthar matter remains strictly between you, me, and the team members assigned to the investigation. We'll make the news public only after confirming their presence in the cave, to avoid unnecessary panic. Understood?"
"Yes, President Jun. As you wish," Rose replied, bowing once again.
"Good," said Jun.
Without adding more, the elderly man walked toward the door.
"Huh?" Mrs Rose jolted, straightening abruptly. "Where are you headed, Mr. President?"
Jun stopped in front of the double doors and turned slowly toward her.
"Heh, isn't it obvious?" he replied, a faint smile on his lips as he puffed on his cigar. "I want to have a little chat with these two swordsmen…"
* * *
Meanwhile, the door to Room 03 creaked open.
"Number 31, Isaac Belgram," Eldrin exclaimed upon returning.
Mirac straightened and tilted his head, a smile forming beneath the mask.
'Here we go!'
Without hesitation, he rose from his seat and made his way toward Room 03M, the black mask making him a mysterious figure in everyone's eyes.