See? What’d I say? Nobody here can believe how weak that was.
“Marvelous! You have so much talent! Why is someone like you taking the general admittance exam?!”
Uh...what did the proctor just say? I had to have misheard. There was nothing about what Ted had done that should’ve made anyone think he was talented.
“I can’t believe this. He’s from the Rhangbalt family, right? The nobles that live out in the sticks?”
“This is the worst... How are we supposed to follow that up?”
This is a joke, right? I’m being pranked. But it seemed that the audience around us was entirely serious. This low level of magecraft was actually perceived as “marvelous” and deserving of praise.
“Such talent... We might just be seeing the birth of a once-in-a-century prodigy.” A veteran proctor who was more than likely a supervisor blew out smoke as he spoke these words.
Ted?! A prodigy?! A once-in-a-century prodigy?! Late though my reaction was, the reality of the situation was finally sinking in, reminding me once again just how low the ability of mages around me now was.
✦ ✦ ✦
As the test went on, it felt like I was dreaming with my eyes open. Like I was standing at a glorified playground for little kids.
“Fireball!”
“Wind Edge!”
“Ice Needle!”
The applicants fired off their respective attacks with the Regalias they’d picked out. With how weak they were, though, I had reservations about letting any of what I was seeing fall under the purview of magecraft. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that, even while using a support item like a Regalia, there would one day be people who couldn’t even properly manipulate magecraft. Thinking back, this made Barth—the older spoiled rich brat—an exemplary mage by their standards.
“Okay then... Will the last applicant, number twenty-seven—Abel—please step forward?” I was asked in a strangely kind tone.
Good grief. Apparently it wasn’t just the other kids who looked down on me for having Amber Eyes, and had no expectations for me. I was extremely concerned for the future if this was the attitude of the people who were tasked with nurturing and educating young mages.
“All right,” I said shortly, moving towards the designated spot.
“Okay, go ahead.”
My evaluation had begun, but I wasn’t sure how best to proceed. Simply casting standard magecraft like they wanted me to would’ve been boring. Hm... How about I make a few slight changes to the composition, and nonchalantly show them what I can do?
“Hey, look at that Amber-Eyed commoner.”
“Ha ha ha, he’s spending so much time just to cast something as simple as Fireball. I guess that’s what you’d expect from Inferior Eyes, though.”
I was too focused to pay any attention to the hecklers. I began revising and improvising the magical composition of the magecraft, smoothing out all the rough edges and making it balanced.
Spell Velocity: Fastest
Magecraft Strength: Maximum
Magecraft Variation: Scattershot
Ah... Almost forgot something important.
Remove limiter.
Okay. That should do it. All that was left was to aim at the target and fire. Though the magecraft was already pretty common and nothing to write home about, I made sure to lower its strength further after taking into account the ability level of the mages gathered here.
“Fireball: Spread Rain.”
The air trembled as a fireball roughly a meter in diameter appeared from the tip of the sword I was holding. But since that alone was kind of boring, I’d modified the magecraft so that it would scatter in midair.
The fireball flew up in the air before scattering, crashing down on the target like a fiery rain.
Uh, what? I thought the targets were unbreakable. Maybe they’d only meant that in the sense that a student couldn’t break it, so the school had used dark matter of poor quality. That was the only explanation I could come up with, because otherwise, there was no way that dark matter would melt like that.
“A-A-A-Ahh...”
Hm? What’s going on?
The proctor standing next to me looked like she was still trying to process what’d just happened. She’d fallen to the ground and her gaze was trembling.
“Wh-What was that...?”
“What just happened? Why’s there a field of fire?”
All of the applicants looked at me, mouthing off in surprise. Was the magecraft I used that rare? No way, right? Adapting Spread Rain into one’s magecraft composition was like, the most basic thing there was. It didn’t matter how low their level as mages was; there was no way I was the only one here who could use it.
“H-How can an Inferior Eyes like him use magecraft like that?!” one of the examinees cried out pathetically, still lying on the ground where he’d fallen.
Oh, now I get it. Their exaggerated reactions were because they were surprised that a mage with Amber Eyes could even produce magecraft normally. Well, I’m glad I got to change your view of Amber Eyes!