Rudy chattered incessantly even during the short walk to the examination hall. I couldn't get a word in edgewise. His talkativeness was nearly on par with my father's.
"That friend who arrived in the white carriage? He's the eldest son of the Count of Dwayra. Ten years ago, they struck gold in their territory and became filthy rich. He's probably in the regional quota track, too."
"The guy in the black hat coming in behind us? He's the second son of the Mirhan Merchant Guild. They made a fortune trading with the Eastern Continent."
"And see that person over there with the crowd around them? That's the daughter of the famous Marquis of Bellune. Her family is one of the most prestigious noble families known for their magic. She could've entered through the elite recommendation track without taking the exam, but she insisted on sitting for the test."
As much as Rudy talked, what he said was helpful.
He rattled off detailed profiles of wealthy merchant heirs and noble children I had no way of knowing about.
"How do you know all this?"
"Why do you think a merchant's son like me wants to enter a magic academy? Networking is crucial for a merchant. Building connections with central nobles will make future business so much easier."
Ah, this must be how a merchant sees the world.
I realized I should try to get close to influential families' kids here if I wanted to find a good job after graduation.
In that sense, meeting Rudy was incredibly fortunate.
'If I stick with this guy, I'll have no trouble identifying who's who.'
Of course, that's assuming Rudy and I both passed the entrance exam.
"So, did your family strike gold or something? From what I know, the Ashborn family doesn't seem wealthy enough to secure a regional quota recommendation."
"Huh? Gold mine? No, nothing like that."
"Then a ruby mine? I heard rubies are fetching higher prices since they're widely used as magical reagents."
"Nope, not that either."
"Did you hit it big with a local specialty? Or maybe the Earl of Ashborn started trading?"
"No. The Ashborn family isn't rich."
"Then how did you manage to get a recommendation…?"
"The Marquis of Deville just gave it to us."
"The Marquis of Deville!?"
Why was he so shocked?
"They're famous for rarely giving out recommendations. How'd you pull that off?"
Well, obviously, my father leveraged our family name...
"If the Marquis of Deville recommended you, then you must have real talent for magic. That's rare in the regional quota track."
I don't actually have talent, but I suppose it is rare. Most of the regional quota kids seem to come from wealthy families.
Though the Ashborn family still holds an earldom, we're far from being "wealthy." Our territory isn't impressive, and we only have three servants: one butler, one maid, and one gardener.
How poor must we be for a noble family to lack even a carriage and for me to ride a donkey here instead?
If anything, we're closer to being a "poor noble" family.
But Rudy didn't seem to care about my situation.
"Let's stick together at the magic academy."
Instead, he held out his hand for a handshake.
I clasped Rudy's hand and shook it.
'That's only if we both manage to pass.'
First, I had to pass.
We soon arrived at the exam hall.
The examination venue was a large auditorium located far to the east of the academy entrance.
Inside, at the entrance, stood a woman holding a quill and some papers. Her tired appearance immediately caught my attention.
She wore an old, worn suit. Her hair was frizzy, and dark circles hung under her sunken eyes. She looked like a grad student dragged out of research or a staff member exhausted from working overtime.
She was jotting down the names of entrants with her quill.
"State your name."
"Piera Santos."
"Yes, next name."
"Mahim Dwayra."
"Your name."
"Norka Mirhin."
One by one, the students murmured their names as they filed in.
This hall was exclusively for the regional quota track examinees. And since most of the students here came from affluent families, their demeanor when giving their names was haughty beyond belief.
"What if that person's a professor? Why are they answering like that?"
"Huh? Who?"
Rudy looked around at my comment. I pointed at the woman writing names.
"That person over there."
"Oh, right. She might not be a servant."
"······."
These wealthy kids.
Their default assumption seemed to be that anyone doing menial tasks must be a servant. It hadn't even occurred to them that she could be someone else.
"Still, there's no way a professor would be doing a job like that."
"True. But she could be a senior student, right?"
"Hmm···."
Even if she wasn't a professor or a senior, she could still be a staff member.
From my four years as an undergrad and three years in grad school, one thing I learned was that getting on the bad side of department staff never led to anything good.
When it was my turn, the woman looked at me.
"State your name."
"Yes. Noah Ashborn."
Her tired eyes briefly flashed with interest as she glanced at me. Then, she returned to her previous disinterested demeanor and wrote down my name.
"Your name."
"Rudy Brightstone."
Rudy, perhaps heeding my earlier comment about politeness, also responded respectfully.
We were among the last to enter. The auditorium was already nearly full.
'About a thousand people, I'd say.'
A thousand regional quota applicants.
The academy was said to admit only 200 students through this track. A 5-to-1 competition ratio wasn't exactly easy.
But this was Astran Magic Academy—the empire's top school for magic. Compared to the 30-to-1 odds for the general track, the regional quota was significantly easier.
Rudy was right when he said the regional quota was a golden ticket.
'Still, 5-to-1 isn't simple. What kind of exam will it be?'
Soon, the auditorium filled completely.
The woman who had been jotting down names folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. Then she slammed the doors shut.
All the students' eyes turned to her.
Standing by the back door, she confidently strode past the students and toward the podium at the front.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Her footsteps were full of energy as she walked with large strides.
Gone was her earlier fatigue. Her half-lidded eyes now blazed crimson, and her hair shimmered with a glossy red hue.
The old suit, on closer inspection, was remarkably high-quality. It felt as though she were an entirely different person.
'It's not just my imagination.'
She was literally transforming before my eyes.
Her hair, now gleaming with hues of pink and orange under the red sheen, looked as radiant as a sunset.
Two tails swished elegantly beneath her skirt, their soft pink fur gleaming like her hair.
And peeking out from her hair were two fox ears. She was clearly a beastkin.
With a sultry grace, she ascended the podium and introduced herself.
"Hello, everyone. My name is Miho Twintail, a professor at Astran Magic Academy and your proctor for today's exam."
Miho Twintail.
A renowned professor known for her illusions. She was also famous for being far older than she appeared.
"Gasp! That's her?"
"I had no idea!"
"The Crimson Witch…"
Her age was no trivial matter. She had fought in the 4th Continental War over a century ago, earning the moniker "Crimson Witch."
She had been active since then, continuously making a name for herself.
Of course, she wasn't fond of the nickname "Crimson Witch."
"You're disqualified."
"Eek!"
The student who uttered the nickname lost their exam eligibility on the spot.
The rest of the students, recalling their impolite behavior at the entrance, began to panic.
"Gulp. I spoke informally earlier."
"W-what should I do?"
"Am I disqualified too···?"
Miho Twintail quieted the murmuring students with a commanding tone.
"Everyone, focus."
Her voice carried a magical force that demanded attention. Naturally, all eyes were on her.
"Don't worry. Aside from that student who crossed the line, no one else will be disqualified. I'm in a good mood because two of you managed to notice my illusion spell earlier."
She must've meant Rudy and me.
Rudy breathed a sigh of relief and whispered to me.
"How did you know?"
"Uh, I just…"
Isn't it basic manners to be polite to someone you're meeting for the first time? Especially when the school is the one in power and the examinees are at their mercy? To me, being rude in this situation seemed absurd.
So, it wasn't that I detected her illusion magic—I was simply being polite.
"Still, don't expect me to go easy on those two students. A test is a test. Everyone will be given the same exam."
Her voice carried an almost hypnotic quality, as if enchanted by her illusion magic. It felt like I was being drawn in, much like a kitsune luring its prey.
"The test will be this."
Snap!
With a snap of her fingers, an illusion appeared at the front of the auditorium.
It was a massive maze.
"This is the map of the Illusory Mirror Maze. When you exit the front doors, a magic circle will activate, transporting you into the maze. Your task is to navigate through the maze and reach the exit."
The maze looked impossibly complex. Each path branched into two directions at every turn, and you wouldn't know if you chose wrong until much later.
Miho Twintail continued.
"For those with talent in magic, this should be an easy maze. Even in the regional quota track, your mana affinity should be at least A+. If you place your hand over your heart and focus, your mana will guide you."
Her hint was useless to me.
'Mana affinity A+? Is she implying everyone here has that level? I'm only B+…'
And what did she mean by placing my hand over my heart?
Rudy, on the other hand, seemed to understand something and mumbled, "Ah, the heart? That's why they said you should be beyond 1st Circle to take the exam."
"1st Circle? Did you learn magic?"
"Yeah. I had a magic tutor. Didn't you? They said it'd be better to reach the 1st Circle before taking the exam with a regional quota recommendation."
What the hell.
In the world of mages, it's generally recommended to start learning magic at age 15 or older. Forming a mana ring around the heart during puberty, when the heart isn't fully developed, could be dangerous.
And yet, they were encouraging this kind of early learning?
'Damn it. This is like asking high schoolers to solve college-level calculus on an entrance exam.'
Back on Earth, some students had to study college math ahead of time for similar reasons.
'And now I have to deal with that here?'
For someone like me, with a B+ mana affinity and no advanced preparation, this test was extremely disadvantageous.
"Since this test might be difficult, I'll reveal the solution in advance. Not that it'll make it any easier."
Snap!
With another snap, red markings appeared on the map, indicating the correct path.
Even with the solution, the maze remained dauntingly complex. Memorizing the route alone would take significant effort.
"Hmmm…"
Despite having surpassed the 1st Circle, Rudy stood still, hand on his chest, merely staring at the map. It seemed none of the students had figured out how to proceed.
That was expected. Even with the solution, forgetting the route inside the maze meant you were doomed.
I focused on the map.
'At each intersection, there are two options: left or right. One, two, three, four··· a total of 108 intersections.'
If you memorize something like "Left, Right, Right, Left, Left…" you'd have to remember 108 steps.
Two choices repeated 108 times.
This is just binary.
It's easier than I thought.
"10011101010110…"
"Huh? What?"
"9D5B72F…"
"Uh?"
"I'm going in first."
I stepped into the Illusory Mirror Maze as the first challenger.