— Remedy, have you awakened a profession?
Mister Stone's question fell into the silence of the room, crystallizing the burning curiosity of the seven adults present.
Inside, Remedy smiled.
I was expecting this.
He let the silence linger for a moment, letting the tension rise, before answering in a clear voice:
— Yes. I awakened my profession last night, after I got home from class.
A faint wave of relief, tinged with skepticism, passed through the room. It was the expected answer—the most logical one.
— Last night, after classes? So that's why you couldn't inform your homeroom teacher? Mister Stern followed up, trying to fill the gap in the story.
— Yes… that's why, Remedy confirmed after a brief, calculated hesitation.
The tension dropped slightly. The nightmarish hypothesis—a last-minute demonic pact, a source of power at the cost of damnation—seemed to be ruled out.
— With the… spectacular performances you showed us, Mister Sharp finally asked, his gaze sharp, what kind of profession could it possibly be?
Remedy put on a slightly embarrassed smile and rubbed the back of his head.
— Uh, well… it's Enchanter…?
— Enchanter ???
The word landed in the room like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples of surprise through the air. It was a known profession, certainly—but one usually associated with crafting magical items, not with the physical feats he had displayed.
I can't tell them about the System, Remedy thought. It's my greatest secret.
— Enchanter? Mister Stern repeated, intrigued. Could you show us a brief demonstration?
— Of course, Remedy replied without hesitation.
He stepped forward and summoned his giant hammer in a flash of pixelated light. The weapon visually crushed the space of the room with its sheer presence.
— My main enchantment allows me to reduce the weight of a target to that of a feather. That's why I can wield this, he explained, lifting the massive weapon with one hand as if it were made of foam.
The gazes sharpened.
— But my enchantments are a bit… special. I can designate who the effect applies to. If I designate only myself, then I'm the only one who benefits from the lightness. But…
He paused theatrically, scanning the professors' faces. This was the crucial moment.
— …if I designate gravity itself…
He raised the hammer to face level and let go.
[DING! EARTH GRAVITY LINKED TO THE CONCEPT « FEATHER_WEIGHT » CARRIED BY THE GIANT HAMMER — SUCCESS.]
The weapon didn't fall.
It remained suspended, gently floating in the air.
— …then, thanks to the laws of physics, the bound object floats, Mister Weaver concluded, completing the demonstration with a fascinated, analytical gaze.
A murmur of awe spread around the table. But behind the amazement, a persistent wariness remained. The power on display was too unusual—too conceptual.
Fortunately for Remedy, a sacred rule protected Players: even high-ranking officials could not arbitrarily probe the inner workings of a profession without consent, to prevent abuse.
— Very well. That will be enough, the director declared, bringing the interrogation to an end. I will record 'Specialized Enchanter' in your file.
— Thank you very much, Remedy replied with a respectful nod.
— You may all return home now. And wait patiently for the results.
The three students left the room under the weight of thoughtful gazes.
As soon as the door closed, Mister Sharp leaned forward.
— A spell that can strip the fundamental laws of nature of their influence? Do you really believe—
— No, Mister Stone cut in sharply, his face stern but resolute. I know Remedy. I know how much he despises cowardice and impure shortcuts. He didn't give up when he had no profession. Why would he now?
— That's enough, the director interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. Our role ends here. Whether he made a pact or not, the future will reveal it. The guilds and the command will conduct their own evaluations.
He stood up, looking toward the door the three students had exited through.
— For now, and for all official records… he is an Enchanter.
He paused.
— An extremely promising Enchanter.
---
Outside the administrative building, the three laureates stood on the academy's steps, bathed in the fading light of evening. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but heavy with the day's events.
Remedy stood in the middle—an improbable bridge between two equally deep yet radically different silences: Neve's mineral coldness and Serene's organic calm.
Then, the muted rumble of an engine broke the stillness. A long, imposing black limousine glided along the curb and stopped in front of them. Without a word, Neve turned on her heel and walked toward the car. The rear door opened on its own.
She paused for a moment before getting in, slightly turning her head. Her sharp blue gaze settled on Remedy—a heavy, scrutinizing look, almost a silent challenge. Then she disappeared into the vehicle. The door closed with a muffled click, and the limousine drove away without a sound.
Remedy let out a long breath he'd been holding since the meeting room.
Finally… she's gone.
He then turned to Serene, his only familiar anchor in the whirlwind.
— Hey, Serene… he began, his voice a little weary. What do you plan to do next? University? Army? Guild?
Those were the three classic paths for a promising new Player. The landscape of power was divided accordingly:
The Army, pillar of the State, offered colossal resources and structure—at the cost of total commitment and strict hierarchy.
State Universities trained the technical and strategic elite, always in service to the nation.
Guilds, on the other hand, were the domain of great families and clans. More freedom, more contractual (win-win) relationships, but fewer limitless resources than the State.
Serene, her expression as smooth and neutral as a lake on a calm day, looked at him.
— I don't know. And you?
She returned the question with her usual precision.
Remedy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. The choice suddenly felt immense and crushing.
— Me neither… he admitted. The State has everything, but it wants everything from you in return. Guilds are freer, but… we'd always be a bit at their mercy, wouldn't we?
He stretched, his sore joints cracking, and let out a loud yawn.
— Uhh… Anyway. We'll see in three days. The results will probably come with concrete offers. We'll have more information to decide.
— Yes, Serene replied simply.
One last moment of shared, peaceful silence settled between them. Then, in unspoken agreement, they gave each other a slight nod.
— See you, Serene.
— See you, Remedy.
They turned away, walking off in opposite directions, each carrying the weight of the day and the uncertainty of the future, toward the temporary refuge of home.
Chapter 18 — End
End of Arc: Exam