When Greg parted ways with Vivian on the academy path, he walked alone to the Arena located in the academy's East District.
It was mid-afternoon, and the sunlight was pleasant, but the atmosphere inside the Arena was far warmer than the sun itself.
The circular venue, constructed from off-white megaliths, was grand and sturdy. Its tiered stands were packed at this moment with first-year freshmen who had just finished their placement exams, alongside some second-year and third-year students who had come to watch.
In the center of the venue, the temporary barrier previously used for the exams had already been dismantled, leaving behind only faint traces of residual mana disturbance.
Meanwhile, the focus of the crowd was currently concentrated on several giant magic announcement boards suspended on one side of the Arena.
Light screens flickered, densely displaying the grade rankings from the exam and the most crucial piece of information—the name of the Instructor assigned to each freshman.
Most of the freshmen were squeezed in front of the announcement boards, craning their necks as they searched the list anxiously and expectantly for their names.
Once they found their names, the sudden radiance on their faces or their hard-to-conceal disappointment became clearly visible. Immediately after, they hurried out of the crowd and walked toward the area where the Instructors were gathered to conduct their first official greetings and conversations.
Greg, a second-year student blending in among the excited first-year freshmen, did not look out of place.
He didn't pause in front of the announcement boards; instead, his gaze shifted directly to the opposite side—the area where the Instructors were gathered.
“Alice...”
Greg repeated the name silently in his mind while quickly retrieving the limited information he had about this Instructor.
Shoulder-length light purple hair, a petite build, and a habit of always wearing an oversized professor's robe...
His gaze swept past the Instructors warmly conversing with their newly accepted disciples, finally locking onto his target in a secluded corner at the edge of the crowd.
It was a petite figure, almost completely enveloped in a spacious dark gray professor's robe.
Her light purple short hair rested smoothly against her fair cheeks and neck, the ends curling slightly inward, exuding a natural sense of harmlessness.
She stood with her head slightly bowed, seemingly lost in thought while staring at the tips of her shoes. From Greg's angle, he could see the faint dark shadows under her eyes—the unmistakable mark of chronic late nights and sleep deprivation.
She stood there quietly, utterly out of place among the enthusiastically chatting teachers and students around her, like a mimosa plant accidentally forgotten in the corner of a bustling flower garden.
“Found you, Alice... hehehe.”
A playful arch curved at the corner of Greg's mouth as he stepped forward, walking unhurriedly through the crowd toward that quiet corner.
...
Alice suddenly shivered slightly.
The sensation came so abruptly, like a tiny cluster of ice slivers sliding down her spine, causing her to reflexively hunch her shoulders.
She slipped her hands out slightly from her overly large sleeves and rubbed her somewhat chilly arms.
“Is it because I caught a cold after staying up all night in Laboratory Seven yesterday recording data on Starlight Grass's impact on low-tier magic stability?”
She grumbled softly in her heart, unable to muster much interest in the bustling warmth of her surroundings.
To her, today's mentor selection exam for first-year freshmen was essentially nothing more than a mandatory formality.
Because the freshman candidate she was to mentor this year had already been decided in discussions among the other professors who had more seniority and influence, long before the exam even began.
It was a child of commoner background whose practical combat abilities were quite impressive among the freshmen.
However, the word "commoner" often implied much more in the circle Alice belonged to:
A lack of systematic foundational education in magic theory, insufficient financial support to conduct even the smallest auxiliary experiment, and perhaps never having even touched or used many basic magic conduits...
Such a student might possess a bit of talent in pure spellcasting and combat intuition, but on the path of magical research and comprehensive development—which demanded deep theoretical accumulation, vast resource backing, and broad exposure—they were inherently at a disadvantage.
Yet she possessed no right to choose; she could only accept it.
Coming here was merely fulfilling procedure—meeting the assigned child to go through the motions.
She only hoped this freshman wouldn't be like her first-ever disciple—an immensely headache-inducing, giant trouble.
At that thought, she couldn't help quietly sighing again. Her eyes lost focus as she gazed forward, her sight landing on no specific person or object, instead conveying a trace of weariness and helplessness.
Her eyes unconsciously drifted toward the Instructors who were chatting happily with their disciples.
Most of those Instructors' faces brimmed with joy, pride, and earnest expectations for their disciples' futures.
Their disciples were either prodigies ranking at the top of the exam or noble scions with abundant resources—everyone looking high-spirited with limitless futures.
“I'm so envious... Their disciples have the potential to be selected as representatives for the Hundred Academy Exchange, unlike mine...”
A faint yet lingering envy welled up in Alice's heart.
This envy was not without reason.
The Hundred Academy Exchange was one of the premier grand events in the entire continent's magic academy system.
When the time came, every major academy would send its most elite student representatives to interact and present research findings.
This was not only a prime stage for students to make a name for themselves, but also a key occasion for their Instructors and academies to demonstrate strength and compete for future resources and influence.
If a disciple could be selected as an exchange representative for the academy, then as that student's direct Instructor, they would also automatically receive valuable accompanying qualification.
At the exchange, several topics would be announced for students and Instructors of different years to discuss and research together.
If their performance was outstanding, the allocation of resources from the academy, and even their personal status in academic circles, would rise with the tide.
To Alice, that meant she would no longer have to write lengthy reports just to apply for a small amount of basic research materials as she did now, facing the picky and stingy gazes of the bureaucrats at the Resource Management Office, who frequently rejected her applications on grounds of "wasting resources" or "unclear research direction."
She could carry out the experiments she was interested in with far greater freedom and test the conjectures that had long been swirling in her head...
Yet this beautiful vision was nothing more than an illusory mirage to her.
The commoner disciple assigned to her lagged far behind from the starting line; the chances of standing out in the comprehensive exam for representative selection were exceedingly slim.
As for her first-ever disciple...
The moment she thought of that person, Alice's brow furrowed imperceptibly, a clear trace of dislike and... subtle fear flashing across her ice-purple eyes.
Rate on N.U.
