One by one, students stepped forward and completed their NCAT.
The results were immediate and precise.
Intermediate-Class and Apprentice-Class were the most frequent rankings. A smattering of applause followed each result, polite but unenthusiastic. The nobles acknowledged the results out of courtesy but barely glanced up from their murmured conversations, similar to Isaac.
I just wanna be at the top of Apprentice-Class.
But… This next girl is definitely gonna aim higher than that.
Then came the first noteworthy performance.
"Next. Student No.7!"
The Armoured Angel of Knyagatyrsk.
Tuff ass tittle ngl.
She stands at the center of the training ground, she exhales slowly, and the world bends to her will.
Thaumitons surges from her in a visible ripple, the ground beneath her feet trembling as the Out-Thread of royal green erupts outward. It consumes space, spiraling wider with precision. The outer edges crackle with raw energy, distorting the air like heat haze over a desert.
Three meters. Four. And then. It stops dead perfectly.
The circle hums at that impossible diameter, unwavering, as if carved unto reality itself. No tremors or flickers. A perfect control over her Out-Thread. The onlookers freeze out of shocked for a talent being displayed in front of their eyes. Before erupting into a shout of loyalty from her fellow Knyagatyrskis.
She's got a good reputation, I'll give her that.
But was it this good?
Man… Fuck this shitty memory… I wish I had this new eidetic memory on Earth…
"4 meters across. Nearly, perfectly stable. Switch from Unmolded to Mold 1"
And the result was immediate. A stretching area of green pushed forward.
"Wow… The length of Mold 1 is 50.27 meters. Switch to Mold 2."
Instantly, she shifts.
"Oh… Radius of Mold 2 is 8 meters with an arc length of 12.57 meters. Move to Mold 3."
Again.
"Radius of Mold 3 is 5.66 meters with an arc length of 17.78 meters. Proceed to the In-Threading test."
She moves to the 10-meter mark and raises just two fingers. Without hesitation at all, she merely flicks both of those raised fingers while muttering.
"A.M.A."
Ah… So that's what 'Wind Slash' is called now.
It's almost imperceptible.
A slender crescent arc of pure white, where Isaac's had been only green.
Hers was like light.
A subtle mark of mastery over the Clause-Construct. Something so intensely compressed that the color shifts, warping from green to brilliant white.
And yet, most strikingly.
The score.
Wait, what?
"2.9 Pascals."
"Hmm… Appren—"
"Hah~ Wait… Hmph." Anzhelika exhales.
Did she do this in the original story?
Fuck… Nevermind, I think I know what she's gonna do next. I'm all for it, I get to see the sheer wall that genetics puts me against her.
This time, the crescent is different. She draws a thinner arc, glowing pure green rather than white, streaking swiftly from her fingertips once more.
Regal Tempest, a Royal Eleme—
BOOM.
The loudest sound most of the students have heard in their lives.
"F-five point one p-pascals." The assistant stuttered.
"Impressive. Novice-Class"
She clicks her tongue.
Perhaps it's the fact that, for a royal, it was still an underperformance. But a flick of her wrist dismisses the lingering winds, as if the feat were nothing more than a passing annoyance. Without another word, she turns on her heel. The crowd parts instinctively, no one daring to stand in her way.
Her native students erupt into applause.
Those unfamiliar shrink back, fingers tightening around their fist, suddenly aware of the difference between them and royalty.
Respect was given by everyone, begrudgingly or not. Respect not earned through titles, but through undeniable power. Their belief in Anzhelika from the first meeting during the Welcoming Dinner solidified into respect.
I-I… I couldn't even see it… Holy shit…
From then on, Singular-Modular, Dual-Modular, Tri-Modular, Derivative-Modules, Unique-Derivative-Modules. Every student goes up displaying their own personal Clause-Constructs.
It was a stark difference from what was presented in the original narrative. While the students' final classification remained the same, some demonstrated Modules and combinations that were otherwise unseen at this point in the story.
A huge divergence from the OG EAA's story
Concerning or not? I'm not one to judge.
Yet, most who stepped up next, no matter how unique they were, could never hope to match Anzhelika's overwhelming firepower except for the other enrolling nobles, averaging the Novice Classification.
Other than Turaiya Elenos, of course.
By all standards of metrics, her talent was so extraordinary that she should have skipped straight to the Second Year. If not, she should have been born later to a higher-talent generation.
Yet, for unbeknownst reasons to the students, she chose to remain in Year 1.
It still came as no surprise to anyone in the hall when she received an Adept-Class Rating. Her 'Beginner' Class Clause-Construct was so potent that the force resembled a higher class Clause-Construct.
She had set the bar impossibly high, in which, when Sephalyn Veledônia's turn came, even her Novice-Class rating, a remarkable achievement by any measure, was eclipsed by Turaiya's brilliance.
Still, a breathtaking display of skill, with it being the first showing of the Veledônic's attack potency when it came to Sephalyn's Lighting Module, causing minor malfunctions in the CCAU Dummy.
Funnily, brushed off with nothing but a;
"Teehee~ Whoops"
From Sephalyn.
God… She's still cringe as shit… Then again, nothing less to expect nothing less from the heroines.
"Next candidate! Student No. 137!"
Alright lets fucking do this.
A hush fell over the hall, and a few whispers followed.
"He collapsed at dinner, right? Isaac, right?"
"Duh… He's the dumbass who also screamed profanities out loud like a psycho."
"Pft… No way… Let's see how he does."
Ah jeez... Noisy… My reputation, unlike Anzhelika's, is in the gutters.
Isaac stepped into the center of the training ground. He had no Out-Threading experience and practise whatsoever, and no room for error, only the weight of his survival pressing down on his shoulders.
The adrenaline kicked in as Isaac's heart began to thump faster.
Now or never.
Surely, it should not be this difficult… Right?
"Temporal Anchor V2: Activate"
The world shifts.
With Temporal Anchor, I gain a few extra milliseconds to think and focus. So, using this, I have more time to run this shit through one last time.
Convert internal energy into a coherent external force. Channeled, focused, and released. Use the Mana of the universe or whatever the fuck not. My mind should act as a computer that regulates Mana into a diameter of 3 Meters. Flow, my Mana. Through my legs into the ground and leave a pigment on the world.
A mark that showed I.
An outsider.
Was here!
Isaac's eyes snap open, Temporal Anchor Version 2 deactivating as the world erupts in a storm of slate-blue Thaumitons.
No.
What…
Gasps ripple through the crowd. Most of them thought along the lines of.
Huh? What is that QCD Charge Doublet?
WHAT THE FUCK?!
That's impossible…
With the most notable characters thinking.
Sephalyn Veledônia: WHAT???
Anzhelika Knyagatyrsk Golatsyn: Huh…
Turaiya Elenos: EOS… Entropy… Ontology… Symmetry…
How?
Who is this guy?
Who the hell is he?
Student One Hundred Thirty Seven?
And most importantly;
Caelum Veldt: .... ..- ....