Chapter 8
When Adem stepped out of the testing tents, he didn't rush off to find an academy like the others. Instead, he stood quietly under the shade of a nearby tree, waiting for George and Leylin to finish their own tests.
Even though he had no intention of joining the Farlier Family's Furze Alliance, his relationship with them wasn't bad — neutral at best, friendly at most. He had never caused them trouble, and even when his past-life memories awakened in the carriage, he hadn't taken Leylin's ring.
It was, after all, just a low-grade magic artifact. Besides, he had already "collected" a few magic crystals from Ourin and his goons to make up for it.
He didn't have to wait long. George emerged first, grinning from ear to ear, waving a paper form like a victory flag.
"Haha! Adem! What grade did you get? I got Fourth Grade Aptitude! Fifty percent chance of becoming a Magus!" George boasted proudly, puffing his chest out.
Adem smiled faintly. "Not bad. I got Fifth Grade." His tone was calm — maybe too calm — but his eyes betrayed a flicker of pride.
George froze for a moment before laughing loudly. "Fifth Grade? Haha! So our traveling crew's hiding a prodigy after all! If you don't have an academy in mind, come with me to the Ivory Ring Tower. I've got a senior there who might get us in easy!"
"Thanks, but I've already chosen," Adem replied with a polite smile. "Wetland Gardens."
George looked mildly surprised but didn't press further. They chatted idly for a few minutes until Leylin finally emerged from the testing tent, looking thoughtful.
"Yo, Leylin!" George called. "What grade did you get?"
Adem turned his head slightly, already knowing the answer ,Third Grade , the same as the "original" Leylin from the novel. But curiosity tugged at him anyway; seeing it happen with his own eyes was something else.
"I got Third Grade," Leylin said after a pause. "Is that… good? I'm not really sure what it means."
"The aptitudes of acolytes are ranked according to their chance of becoming a proper Magus," Adem explained before George could. "There are five grades. Fifth is the highest, with a ninety percent chance of becoming a Magus. Fourth grade has about fifty percent, third grade around ten, second only a few percent, and first… barely one percent."
Leylin's brows rose slightly. "So that's how it works."
"And your elemental affinity determines your future path," Adem continued. "Some Magi manipulate fire, some frost, some lightning… It's what shapes your magic. Technically, anyone can cast any spell, but it's inefficient if your affinity's weak. A fire Magus trying to cast water magic is basically wasting energy , they'll summon a puddle instead of a pool."
George laughed. "Well said! Aptitude decides how far you'll go. Affinity decides where."
After some friendly banter, George invited Leylin to join him again at the Ivory Ring Tower, but Leylin politely declined. He wanted to find a stable and suitable academy instead.
Adem, on the other hand, turned and headed toward the Wetland Gardens' tent. It stood out among the rest , a serene structure draped in hues of green and blue, exuding a faint, refreshing aura. The air around it felt cooler, calmer, almost alive.
As he approached, he remembered what George had said earlier , that Knights were nothing compared to Magi. "The limits of a Knight's strength are where a Magus begins…" Adem mused silently. In this world, the knight system was underdeveloped , branded swordsmen were the peak of mortal strength, yet still equal to the weakest Magus.
He lifted the tent's curtain and stepped inside.
The interior was clean and simple, but what truly caught his attention was the woman sitting behind the table. She had long blonde hair tied neatly behind her head, her white robe tracing her figure with subtle grace. Her clear blue eyes met his, and for a moment, the air seemed to still.
Adem froze.
She was beautiful , not the immature kind of beauty he saw in the younger acolytes, but mature, composed, and dangerously captivating.
"Are you just going to stand there staring," she said with a teasing smile, "or are you here to join the Wetland Gardens?" Her voice was smooth and confident but warm. "I'm Professor Margot Robbie, but you can just call me Professor Margot. And you are…?"
Adem blinked, almost snapping out of a trance. "Ah— I'm Adem Veyron, here to join the Wetland Gardens."
He could feel a light heat in his cheeks. The resemblance was uncanny — her name, her face, even her voice reminded him of the Margot Robbie from his past life. His celebrity crush.
Of all people…
He mentally cursed his luck — or perhaps thanked it. He wasn't sure which.
Professor Margot chuckled lightly, clearly noticing his flustered expression. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Mr. Veyron. Don't tell me my reputation precedes me?"
Adem coughed lightly, straightening his posture. "No, Professor. It's just… I didn't expect the Wetland Gardens to be so—"
"—well-staffed?" she finished for him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Adem sighed inwardly. She's sharp.
"Anyway," she continued, her tone shifting back to business. "Your forms have already been verified. Fifth Grade Aptitude with multi-elemental affinity, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she composed herself. "That's rare… exceedingly rare. You'll find many here who'd envy such a foundation. We value balanced minds and adaptable affinities — both are key to Wetland Gardens' philosophy."
Adem nodded silently, absorbing her words.
"Good," Margot said, tapping a small sigil-stamped seal on his form. "Welcome to the Wetland Gardens, Acolyte Adem Veyron. May your roots grow deep and your branches reach the heavens."
She reached into a silver case beside her and pressed a glowing crystal embedded on top. A soft hum filled the tent as a thin metal card slid out, etched with faint runes and the number 12 gleaming at its center.
"This," she said, handing it to him, "is your identification and proof of residence. You'll find your hut past the inner courtyard. The card is attuned to your essence — it unlocks your quarters and records your academy credits. Lose it, and the administration will have my head, not yours."
Adem took the card carefully. It was cool to the touch, pulsing faintly, as if breathing. "Thank you, Professor."
"Get some rest tonight," she continued. "We leave the Chernobyl Islands at first light. Once we cross the southern seas, you'll arrive at the Wetland Gardens proper — one of the Magus academies along the marshlands of the South Coast. From tomorrow onward, Mr. Veyron, you're an official acolyte of the Magi."
Adem bowed slightly. "Understood, Professor."
As he stepped out of the tent, the late-afternoon light washed over him. The camp buzzed with energy — acolytes laughing, shouting, making deals and promises that only youth could believe in.
Adem looked at the silver card once more.
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New chap out .
Tell me what you think i can improve on , I'm quite a good leaner .
U can also leave your powerstones here.