The middle-aged man who had been silent until now finally spoke in a sharp tone.
Everyone fell silent immediately, even Trik, who had been ready to stir up trouble, froze in his tracks.
This person was a high-ranking official from the Truth Court.
Even if he killed the heir of a duchy or a prince right here, no one would dare to question his actions. Unlike Kuban, this man held a level of authority and respect that perhaps even equaled King Lanovel's own.
At least, that's what Verdi had told me.
"I am Cardiff Arion," he announced, his voice resonating through the room, "and I will oversee this year's Rite."
Cardiff was a man with tanned skin and gray hair. His features were severe, as though he were perpetually scowling. He wore the same black robe with patterns that Kuban had, but his presence was far more imposing.
In his hand, he held a wooden staff topped with a shimmering blue crystal.
Scary... He reminded me of a strict military academy instructor.
"I'll say this now," Cardiff continued, his tone sharp and authoritative. "If you fail to follow my instructions during the rite or try something foolish like attempting an unapproved method of awakening, you'll bear the consequences."
He struck the ground with his staff, the sound echoing ominously through the hall.
"Six years ago," he began, his tone colder than ever, "a child thought he was special. He tried to awaken using a self-devised method, disregarding the proper instructions. When he manipulated mana incorrectly through his veins…" Cardiff paused, letting the tension build.
"...he exploded. His body was obliterated, his flesh scattering across the platform in front of the other children."
Gasps rippled through the crowd, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down even harder.
"So I'll say this again: if you make a mistake, it's on you."
Cardiff's words were devoid of sympathy. He wasn't here to coddle children, that much was clear.
After scanning the room and ensuring his message had been understood, he nodded and struck his staff against the ground once more.
"Now, let us officially begin the rite for the year - 9982 of the New Moon Calendar!"
The room seemed to grow heavier with anticipation.
"I'll first explain the probabilities of awakening in this region," Cardiff began, raising a single finger. "Out of every 10,000 individuals, approximately 3,000 are likely to form a mana core. Two thousand might awaken a magical mark."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room.
"And for the rarest form of awakening—a grimoire—only one in 10,000 will succeed. In very rare cases, two might awaken grimoires. But don't get your hopes up."
His words struck the crowd like a hammer. Even the most confident children glanced nervously at their parents.
As I listened, Verdi's words echoed in my mind. Will I awaken a grimoire?
I found myself hoping for it, even if it meant being drawn into the royal family's schemes. A grimoire would make life easier, it was like taking the elevator instead of the stairs.
And who wouldn't choose the elevator? Well, aside from those overly enthusiastic, energy-filled fools.
"As for the remaining 4,999," Cardiff said, his tone harsh, "their fate is to fail and continue living as ordinary humans."
A wave of unease swept through the room. No one wanted to be among the failures.
"You," Cardiff pointed to a random boy in the crowd, "step forward to the platform."
The chosen boy hesitated, his body trembling slightly. Gathering his courage, he stepped forward, his movements unsteady.
All eyes were on him, the room holding its collective breath.
The boy climbed onto the platform, stumbling slightly before managing to stand in the center of the magical circle.
"Good. Now, if you value your life, listen to my instructions carefully."
"Y-Yes!" The boy nodded vigorously, his nervousness evident.
Cardiff tapped his staff on the ground once more, and the circle lit up with a brilliant blue glow.
"Whoosh!"
The entire platform pulsed with light, waves of mana visibly flowing around the boy. His body trembled as he stood in the middle.
"Don't be afraid," Cardiff instructed. "This circle channels mana into your body. Your task is to guide it from your feet upward through your mana veins. Do you at least know how to control mana flow within your body?"
The boy nodded, his trembling slowing as he focused.
"Hmm, it seems tiring," I noted silently, observing the process.
Unfazed by the boy's struggle, Cardiff continued his explanation, his voice directed at the entire room. "If you feel a response in any part of your body, focus all the mana there and ignore the rest. Concentrate and channel all the energy into that point."
"If you don't feel any response," he added, "guide the mana to your chest, near your heart. Compress it repeatedly until you form a mana core. The circle will handle the rest."
He paused, his gaze turning steely.
"Be warned: forming a mana core is excruciatingly painful. If you lack the willpower to endure it, then resign yourself to a life as an ordinary human."
Cardiff's relentless tone belied a strange care in his instructions. He didn't want any mistakes. For someone who had seemed cold and distant, he was unexpectedly thorough.
He's like a tsundere, I thought wryly. Pretending to be tough, but actually caring.
The boy's brow furrowed in concentration. Minutes passed before a faint red glow appeared on his wrist, like embers beginning to spark.
"Good! Focus your mana there and nowhere else!" Cardiff commanded.
The glow intensified, the boy's wrist pulsating with energy until—
"Boom!"
A small explosion erupted from his wrist, dispersing quickly.
Did he fail?
"Congratulations," Cardiff said, stepping forward. "You've successfully awakened a magical mark."
He examined the boy's wrist and smiled faintly. "If I'm not mistaken, this mark represents the 'Blazing Earth Serpent.' A fine result."
The boy's wrist, previously ordinary, now bore a coiling red pattern resembling a flaming serpent. His arm had transformed, the veins bulging as though his muscles had been infused with mana.
So this is a magical mark? I thought, intrigued. The enhancement was impressive, though I couldn't help but notice the imbalance. His arm seemed disproportionately powerful compared to the rest of his body.
Balancing mana would be his next challenge, I realized.
For now, all I could do was wait for my turn.
...
It was finally my turn.
I stepped forward onto the platform, my heart racing slightly. To say I wasn't nervous would be a lie. As someone who had lived another life before this one, failing to awaken something extraordinary would be a blow to my pride.
Still, I trusted myself. Even if I didn't awaken a grimoire as Verdi hinted, I was confident in my ability to form a larger-than-average mana core, something that would still secure my future as a capable mage.
After all, Verdi had trained me well. He had ensured I knew the process for forming a mana core. Though painful, it was something I could endure.
"Stand in the circle," Cardiff Arion commanded.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the center of the platform. This was the moment that would define my path in this world!
Cardiff struck his staff against the platform with a sharp "tak"!
"Whoosh!"
The circle lit up, a powerful flow of mana surging into my body. It was overwhelming, like ice-cold water flooding my veins.
I remembered Verdi's words. The human body is composed of blood veins and mana veins. The latter formed naturally as a child inhaled mana-infused air from birth, but they were merely conduits, incapable of storing mana. The rite's purpose was to expand these veins temporarily, allowing the awakening of one's magical potential.
"Don't panic," Cardiff's voice cut through the rushing sensation. "Focus and guide the mana. From your feet to your head. Keep it steady."
Nodding, I began directing the mana flow from my feet upward. It was as if I were pulling an invisible thread through my body, carefully weaving it higher and higher.
Nothing responded at first. No tingling in my limbs, no sparks of magic in my arms or legs. That much was expected, Verdi had said our bloodline had never awakened a magical mark.
Still, I allowed myself a moment of hope. The royal family's blue clover mark occasionally surfaced in descendants. Could I somehow inherit it? I focused harder, but the result was the same, nothing.
I continued channeling the mana upward. It reached my chest, then my neck. As it climbed toward my head, an ominous feeling settled over me.
The mana's flow felt turbulent and unstable. It was as if my body was warning me that I was approaching something dangerous.
What is this? I thought, frowning. My instincts screamed at me to stop, but I gritted my teeth and pressed on. Surely Cardiff would intervene if I were truly in danger, right?
I continued, ignoring the rising tension. The mana surged into my head, and the feeling of instability grew worse. My head throbbed with a splitting ache as if something were about to break.
And then, I felt it.
Something foreign within me. A presence, almost tangible. Hidden deep within my being, it pulsed faintly, waiting.