[A Few Days Later]
"Master Ashfelt Zephyr, please step forward."
Ash did as he was told, stepping into the center of the stage, enjoying the brilliant shower of light that descended upon him as he did so. He was currently standing in front of a panel within a hall slightly larger than the one he and Elma used for sparring.
The panel consisted of three judges—all of them in the Department of Student Affairs.
In essence, subordinates of Gerard Lockwood.
'Knowing the personality of that man, he probably told them ahead of time to fail me.' Ash sighed to himself.
Why did he keep getting into messes like this?
'I'm sure he thought that refusing my re-application into the Academy back then would have caused me to react angrily and possibly reveal the deal we made to everyone while desperately trying to retake the credit for myself, which is why he went ahead with the deal.'
However, since about a week had passed since the White Death was caught and he had solidified his position as the one who did the catching, any testimony Ash made to the contrary would not be taken seriously. In fact, his inability to pass his Re-Entrance Exam would probably be brought up, and many would think he was simply lashing out and fabricating stories just so he could get back at the system that failed him.
He could already see how Gerard Lockwood's thought process was, and how he must have envisioned this moment in his mind.
'Maybe I should have eliminated him back then…' Ash considered, but swiftly shook his head
No, he made the right call.
However, with this scheme that the Head of Student Affairs placed in his way, Ash had yet another reason to orchestrate the man's downfall. He would have to do it in a meticulous way that wouldn't show his involvement in the slightest.
'Just you wait, Gerard… but first, I have to get through this.'
He had already spent the last day allotted to him in his residence within the Staff Quarters, which meant that his failure here would mean an immediate drafting to the North or somewhere else.
'I still think Gerard never canceled my transfer to the Northern Battlefield…' Ash cracked his neck and his fingers. '... And that armored carriage I saw parked outside his office early this morning must be my ride to the North.'
Everyone in the room was probably rooting for his downfall, which meant the exam itself would be difficult and the judging process would also be biased.
To have a chance at passing, he had to do something he wouldn't normally want to do.
'I have to stand out.'
"Master Ashfelt, due to the abrupt nature of your leaving the Academy and returning, we have decided to be a little harsher on you for your Exam." One of the three judges began, elbows on the desk as his chin rested on his interlocked fingers.
The man's piercing gaze offered condescension—a look that Ash had gotten used to due to his poor talent, but something he still couldn't tolerate.
He returned this attitude with a glare, both hands in his pockets as he shrugged.
"Sure, whatever."
"Your Exams will have three stages—all of which will take place in this very room."
'Okay…'
"First is the theoretical exams, where you will have a limited time to answer the questions we ask you based on what you have already been taught. Failure to score acceptably in this portion means you are unfit for returning to the Academy, since you do not even know the basics, and your re-application will be rejected."
'Normally, it's supposed to be a written exam, which involves a set of pretty straightforward questions that try to see if you have been paying attention to classes.' Ash narrowed his eyes in mild annoyance. 'By making it an oral exam, with limited time attributed to each question, the chances of making mistakes increases exponentially.'
It was also possible that they would pick questions that existed in advanced curriculums… just to mess with him.
'I doubt they would go that far, though.' He reasoned calmly. 'After all, they must already have my file, so they know I'm somewhat average, or even below average when it comes to the theoretical aspects of the Academy.'
As a result, the judges would probably think that they didn't even need to try very hard to ensure that he failed.
Normally, they would be right.
'But, I can't afford to fail at this point… which means I'm pretty desperate.'
That meant only one thing.
The judges were in for a rude awakening.
*************
[Moments Later]
"W-well done, Master Ashfelt… you've passed the Writte—I mean, Theoretical Part of your Exam." One of the Judges said, clearly stuttering due to his surprise.
His colleagues also had the same look on their faces.
They were all shocked that someone who was clearly nothing more than an average student could answer nearly all of their questions correctly. He didn't get a perfect score, no, but he scored enough to place him in the elite category.
This was especially surprising, given the difficulty of the questions asked and the time limit placed on each answer.
Yet… he managed to excel, even with these challenges.
None of them had any idea how this could have happened, but they weren't too worried.
After all, the next phase of the Exam was something that was far more challenging than mere theoretical problems.
"Next is the practical phase, where you have to demonstrate your ability to efficiently apply your Spell and Combat potential in a fight."
'Oh? So this one is next…' Ash thought to himself with a smile. 'I was thinking they would be even more unreasonable, but it seems they really underestimate me.'
Ashfelt Zephyr was very infamous for being mediocre at nearly everything—especially his Spells. He was pretty decent in Combat, but that would be considered average by most people, especially since he couldn't supplement it with effective Spells.
Making this portion about combining both in a fight was a sure-fire way of making him fail.
"Let's bring in your examiner."
A shirtless man came to the stage, having an oily body that perfectly exemplified his well-toned muscles and imposing presence. He was at least a foot taller than Ash, and a mere look at the man was enough to show that he was in a different weight class from him.
So why were they being paired together?
'I see…' Ash sighed. 'Another way to ensure I fail, huh?'
The man's oily body made it difficult to apply grapple techniques, or effective counters or restraining methods, since he would be able to easily wiggle out of them, and Ash also couldn't overpower him due to their difference in strength.
Which meant he would have to rely on Spells if he wanted to win.
'But, they think I am very awful at casting Spells, and my opponent must also be someone who is competent at using Spells.'
In essence, this was designed to be an impossible fight.
However…
"You may begin."
… Ash did not believe in such a concept.
"[Flash]."
In an instant, Ash activated his first Spell, contrary to what they expected him to do—which would be to charge at his enemy or run.
A bright light suddenly exploded from his palm, stunning his opponent with its blinding ray.
After this, Ash cast another Spell on the ground and took a step back.
Once the effects of his Spell faded, his opponent charged towards him, aiming to restrain him as swiftly as possible—with the best way to do that being a physical tackle.
However, the moment he neared Ash, he slipped on the ground and uncontrollably rolled in the air.
'As expected… he didn't notice my [Grease].'
Now that the man had lost his balance, Ash moved in closer for the kill, coating his arm with another Spell known as '[Armament]' which covered the skin in a hardened material made up of Magia.
The strength of this coating heavily depended on the quality and quantity of the Magia applied.
And for Ash… that was a ton!
BAM!
The heavy sound of impact radiated in the hall, forcing the bulky opponent's body to shiver as he received a blow directly on his stomach.
"Guark!" He spat out saliva mixed with blood, his massive body hurled far away from Ash as he crashed into the wall.
In what appeared to be an instant, but was actually about thirty seconds, Ash had easily overcome the second obstacle set against him.
He turned towards the Judges, his armament fading as he wiped off the tiny droplets of blood that stained his face. They all shook slightly as soon as they met his cold and merciless gaze, unable to utter a word for the few seconds that he watched them in silence.
After a few seconds, one was finally able to part his lips.
"Y-you pass the second phase…"
'Good.' Ash nodded. 'They also won't be able to deny the validity of my victory later due to how badly I injured that man.'
His cruel and methodological method of defeating an opponent was precisely what the Empire sought after in their Mages, which meant he was more than qualified to re-enter the Magus Academy.
No… he was definitely overqualified.