Chapter Six: Attribute Assessment

A barely perceptible smile tugged at the corner of Hei Yu’s lips. He concealed his presence, releasing not the slightest trace of dark power—this was the “Stealth Technique” he had practiced since childhood under his father Yisheng’s tutelage. Such an art was most often used for assassination.

“No attribute,” said Headmaster Yun Lan without hesitation, her tone decisive.

Hei Yu quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Not daring to linger, he withdrew his hand and walked back, feeling at ease.

“But… how can someone with no attribute practice magic?” the teacher with square glasses asked.

“If you can’t cultivate magic, there’s still the body, close combat, puppetry, alchemy, and so on,” Yun Lan replied crisply, cutting off any further discussion with a wave of her hand.

Indeed, innate talent determined one’s ability to practice magic. Those born with an advantage started earlier on the path of a mage and were more likely to reach the heights of the continent’s power. Yet some were born with thin magical veins or a poor sense for the elements, and might never wield magic in their lives. Such people could only hone their bodies, master close combat, or rely on mighty weapons to enhance themselves.

Nevertheless, in this age dominated by magic, the mage’s profession was universally acknowledged as the mark of true strength. Most had abandoned the pure physical combat and weapon fighting of the cold steel era.

Yun Lan’s words were not without reason. After all, the academy’s principle was to never turn away anyone with the dream of magic. So the other teachers offered no objections.

After Hei Yu departed, Yun Lan gazed after his retreating figure, a deep meaning in her eyes. She sighed inwardly: “Yisheng, is this the student you entrusted to me? He truly resembles Yifeng in those days…”

Yet compared to the general wariness toward the Dark Elves, the prevailing belief here was clear: “Those with no attribute cannot become mages.” It was as absurd as expecting a man without legs to run a race.

Someone could not help but mock: “Ha! No attribute? What kind of mage could he be?”

“Exactly. How did he even graduate from the Junior Magic Academy—got in through the city lord’s connections?” another chimed in.

Ling Xiao-tear watched Hei Yu’s reaction anxiously, fearing that with his temper he might lash out, and if by chance he revealed any “dark magic,” his hopes of enrolling in the Magic Academy would be dashed.

A savage light flickered in Hei Yu’s cold eyes, though his anger remained buried for now.

“Heh.” Someone behind him let out a soft laugh. “The Chiyan family would never resort to such tricks. Or is it that my own graduation results were also the product of favoritism?”

The voice rang with confidence and carried an inexplicable authority. All turned to see it was Yi Xin, second son of the Chiyan family, and fell silent at once. Yi Xin had always been first in the Junior Magic Academy, and his astonishing display of fire magic earlier left no doubt about his strength.

“We didn’t mean it like that…” they stammered. After all, everyone here was fifteen or sixteen; those two boys had merely spoken without thinking and likely meant no real harm. With Yi Xin’s intervention, they quickly backed down.

Yi Xin continued, “If he’s not strong enough, today’s entrance test will see him eliminated soon enough—you needn’t worry. But… if luck is on his side, perhaps he’ll just scrape by as the last student in the last class.”

He arched an eyebrow, folded his arms, and his tone was openly provocative.

Hei Yu’s head spun with rage. Yi Xin had started off defending him, but the moment the two troublemakers fell silent, he had seized the chance to trample Hei Yu twice over.

Watching Yi Xin gloat, Hei Yu was filled with both anger and resentment.

Just then, a burly teacher strode over. His face was sharply defined, with thick brows, large eyes, and a broad chin. His muscles bulged so extravagantly that he resembled a mountain ravine, and each step made the ground shudder, like a black bear waking from hibernation and emerging to hunt.

Hei Yu measured him up. Though not as tall as Lin Aohun, his shoulders were even broader. If the two were to compete in strength, it was hard to say who would win.

“Students, students…” To draw their attention, he clashed his iron-knuckled fists together with a resounding clang that sent a chill through the crowd.

“Those who have completed the magic attribute test, follow me! I’ll lead you to the physical assessment!”

With this interruption, Hei Yu lost the urge to argue with Yi Xin. As he started toward the testing ground, Yi Xin bumped him on the shoulder as he passed.

“The physical test mainly examines strength and speed, so do your best,” Yi Xin said leisurely, the smile on his face full of mischief. “Otherwise, having failed the attribute test, you’ll probably flunk the written magic theory too. Unless you make up for it here, the Intermediate Magic Academy is out of the question.”

Hei Yu’s fist clenched with a crack. “Looking for a fight?”

“A fight? Since childhood, when have I not beaten you? Your attacks are as stiff as a wooden post—fighting you doesn’t even help me refine my technique,” Yi Xin laughed even more brightly.

Hei Yu’s knuckles went white from the pressure, his eyes ablaze with fury. Ling Xiao-tear wiped the cold sweat from his brow and tried to mediate, “Can you two stop bickering like lovers on the first day? Try to leave a good impression, will you?”

“Just wait till we’re beyond the city gates—then you’ll see what I can do,” Hei Yu muttered. Within the Academy and the city, he was forbidden to use dark magic, a restriction that always gnawed at him.

As the group made their way to the physical assessment grounds, the square was left deserted save for one figure. A youth, unremarkable and always lingering at the back of the crowd, now stepped forward.

He had long silver hair, and his pale blue eyes were deep and distant, exuding a chilling aura. Clad in a tailored healer’s robe, its hem fluttering with the wind, his tall and elegant frame was outlined with every step. Hands in his pockets, he crossed the empty field.

Were it not for the emptiness, this striking youth would have drawn much attention.

He ascended the steps, placed one hand on the magic orb, and channeled a frigid power into it. The orb froze to an icy blue, snowflakes swirling within. Soon, a biting cold spread within ten feet.

What astonished most was that the snowflakes, thin as blades, dense yet undispersed, were controlled by an invisible vortex, spinning swiftly in perfect unison. The rotation was flawless, the magic contained, so that the orb appeared smooth, translucent, and breathtakingly beautiful.

“Perfect, absolutely perfect!” For the third time, the white-bearded elder could not help but exclaim in awe.