Millennium Witch-Book 3: Chapter 210: Genius
After the registration was complete, the Disciplinary Committee squad captain—short deep-brown hair, a face always looking very proper—took her leave. Closing the door, listening to the footsteps fade away outside, Lucia looked at Yvette Loxivia and asked curiously, “So—Yvette, do you know what the ‘Disciplinary Committee’ actually does?”
“Didn’t you read the Academy handbook too?” Yvette shot her a look.
“Well—there were too many obscure words in that handbook, so I skipped straight to the parts about the Battle Arts College.” Lucia scratched her cheek, embarrassed.
She’d thought that, as one of the few literate girls in her village, she was already fairly educated. Only after opening the Academy of Truth’s introductory handbook did she realize she’d merely just left illiteracy behind—still half-literate at best. The terminology read like a foreign language.
“Then I suggest you pick some electives from the College of General Studies after you enroll.”
“I won’t.”
The reason, of course, was that she didn’t like reading—except for novels and stories.
Not surprised in the least, Yvette went on to explain how the Disciplinary Committee is positioned in the City of Truth.
Simply put, they’re a special kind of student auxiliary police whose jurisdiction covers the entire City of Truth. Their remit is even broader than the police. In theory, anything in the city—from fighting violent criminals to catching stray cats and dogs—can fall to them.
Naturally, the work is risky, especially for students without much experience in society. So most who apply are work-study students from less well-off families; it’s essentially another kind of part-time job.
“There’s pay?” Lucia said in surprise. “I thought it was volunteer work.”
“There is, and apparently it isn’t low. It’s popular among ordinary students—competitive to get in, even,” Yvette said. “You can try after you enroll.”
“Got it.” Lucia was tempted, eyes bright. “Once we pass the entrance exam, how about we apply together?”
“How about no.”
“Agh—” Lucia let out a disappointed sound, though she wasn’t surprised. She already knew Yvette was a slacker. Asking a slacker to join the Disciplinary Committee and run around enforcing rules in the City of Truth? What a joke.
This time, though, she did Yvette a bit of an injustice. Yvette wasn’t refusing out of laziness; more because, if she wants to make the Academy of Truth better, she can just act directly when something happens. She doesn’t need the Committee’s badge to have “authority,” and she certainly doesn’t need the pay.
Okay, fine—hating hassle is also part of it. —But that’s not the point.
Once they were settled, their lifestyles flipped for quite a while: Lucia stayed holed up at home more often, while Yvette went out walking a lot, lingering like a meticulous surveyor in streets and alleys across the City of Truth—especially all sorts of quiet corners.
After a dozen days of hard practice, Lucia finally saw results. At least for the core techniques most used in her combat art, she could already employ them freely—and the more proficient she grew, the more shocked she became. The improvements over the original were absurdly huge—downright worldview-shattering!
She thought, no wonder Yvette insisted she master it. There was a reason. But the question was: how did she boost her dad’s combat art to this extent? That night, when facing the Eagleroost Kingdom’s invasion, Yvette had called herself a fire mage. But what kind of fire mage can do something like this?
Lucia couldn’t wrap her head around it. Just like she couldn’t understand why, after coming all the way to a place like the Academy of Truth, Yvette would pass over the famous divisions and aim for the most laid-back College of General Studies.
She even wondered if Yvette might be a follower of an Eldritch God—coming to the Academy of Truth with some mandate from beyond. That would explain all the mysteries about her.
But—
Suspicion is just suspicion.
With no hard evidence—and not wanting it to be true—Lucia didn’t pursue the thought.
In any case, what was certain was that she owed Yvette a massive favor—so big she couldn’t think of any way to repay it anytime soon.
It felt like even selling herself wouldn’t cover it. Was she going to owe her for life?
In early February, after countless people had waited with bated breath, Spring Admissions at the Academy of Truth finally began.
The Spring Admissions exam has two parts. Only the first truly matters: the decisive entrance exam, consisting of an aptitude test, a theory exam, and a short practical.
The second part is the comparatively secondary divisional test, which determines whether you can enter your desired division smoothly.
A few days later, on a bitterly cold morning, in the temporary testing site at the College of General Studies, Lucia and Yvette stood at the end of a long line, shuffling forward as the crowd in front advanced by small stretches at intervals.
The red-haired girl’s face was filled with tension and unease; her breath steamed white in the air.
In Yvette’s eyes, Lucia’s aptitude would be stunning even by the Radiant Continent’s monster standards. But Lucia herself had little sense of that. Growing up in the countryside, she’d never had the chance to compete with her age’s prodigies, and without a magic to quantify talent, she’d never had convincing results.
So for her, something this official and precise—a real aptitude test—was a first in her life.
The line twisted across a wide lawn, snaking toward an open atrium not far ahead that served as the testing ground.
Hours later—by the time afternoon dragged in—it was finally their turn.
From afar, Yvette saw that the testing device looked like a giant pocket watch, clearly old: its rust-flecked face patched with riveted iron plates. Candidates infused mana to spin the needle and receive a quantified talent score from 0 to 100, factoring in mana, magical pressure, spiritual force, adaptability to various elements, and so on, then multiplied by an age coefficient.
Each batch had 30 test-takers and 5 examiners recording results back and forth. In this batch of 30, most scored between 30 and 60; only one reached 72 and drew the examiners’ attention.
When that batch finished, Yvette and Lucia stepped up and, under the examiners’ guidance, infused mana.
Thinking of the attention the 72-point student had just received, Yvette decided, to be safe, to nudge it a bit higher.
She settled on 75.
The examiner on Yvette’s side was a woman in her thirties in a simple, formal suit. Seeing the score, her eyes showed a flicker of surprise; she looked up and smiled at Yvette. “Seventy-five. Excellent aptitude, young lady. Interested in our College of General Studies?”
“You’re a teacher from the College of General Studies?” Yvette stiffly used the honorific, trying to sound as polite as possible.
“I’m Margaret Blanche, faculty in the College of General Studies, Department of Continental Humanities. You’re very welcome to apply. And if you’re more interested in magical cultivation, our college also offers specialized instruction there—no worse than any other division,” the teacher—Margaret—said warmly, her tone especially enthusiastic.
Though it’s the only division that doesn’t teach magic knowledge per se, that doesn’t mean the College of General Studies has no need for magic experts.
This is a high-magic world with dragons and true gods, teeming with powerful individuals. Whatever field of general knowledge you study, personal strength is the bedrock. Otherwise, even if you study governance and become an excellent stateswoman, if someone can one-shot you, what can you accomplish?
All the more since the Academy’s divisions often hold combat-related contests and events. The College of General Studies may not teach combat arts, but its faculty still hope their students will shine on every stage.
“I was planning to apply to the College of General Studies anyway,” Yvette said calmly.
“Really?” Margaret looked at her, surprised.
“Really.”
“Wonderful. After so many days, we finally have a student with an aptitude index over 70 who actively chose us.” Margaret spoke with heartfelt relief; she even looked a little moved.
Just then, a commotion erupted nearby. Margaret turned and saw the source: the red-haired girl who’d come with the chestnut-haired one.
The girl was gripping the device’s input port helplessly. The other four examiners had all gathered around her at some point, faces shocked, as if they’d discovered something unbelievable.
Curious, Margaret walked over—and immediately sucked in a breath. On the alchemical device before the red-haired girl, the pointer representing the quantified talent was spinning wildly around the dial, as if it would never stop!
It looked like the device was malfunctioning—but there was another possibility: the red-haired girl’s quantified magical aptitude had exceeded the maximum range. A once-in-a-century super-genius.
“No way—is the legendary scenario actually happening? Are we sure the device isn’t broken?”
“It’s not. I double-checked—it works fine. It’s that scenario. It—it happened!”
“I can’t believe this is real!”
The examiners couldn’t contain themselves; whispers turned into excited debate. Technically, the testing site forbids leaking candidates’ talent information—you’re supposed to record quietly. But this was too bizarre, the first such case in many years for any of them. They simply couldn’t suppress their excitement.
Word spread like wildfire. In just a few minutes, everyone at the site—candidates, staff, even students of the College of General Studies—had heard the bombshell: the Academy’s first-ever freshman to break the hundred-point cap had appeared!
When Lucia and Yvette finished the remaining admissions items and walked out of the College of General Studies, the red-haired girl still looked dazed, as if she hadn’t recovered from the barrage of shocks.
She drifted forward like a sleepwalker until a gust of winter wind made her sneeze. Only then did her violet eyes clear a little. She suddenly grabbed Yvette’s arm. “Yvette, this wasn’t your doing, was it?”
“Hm?” Yvette didn’t follow.
“Did you use some mysterious method and switch our results?” Lucia made a wild guess. She felt that score couldn’t possibly be hers—just as 75 couldn’t possibly represent Yvette’s magical aptitude.
“No,” Yvette said, shaking her head.
Seventy-five wasn’t her real aptitude; it was a number she’d chosen. She’s from the Origin Civilization—if they tested her true value, based on her talent back when she first touched magic at the Abyssal base… honestly, even 5 would be a stretch. 0.5 would barely be reasonable.
But Lucia’s over-100, off-the-charts talent had nothing to do with her. It was entirely Lucia’s own strength. “Really not?”
“No.”
“Then why is this happening? I’m just an ordinary person.” Lucia fell into thought. Maybe because she was always with Yvette, she couldn’t feel any “genius” in herself. What worried her most was a testing error—if this turned out to be a blunder, she’d be a laughingstock.
“No, you are a genius—I can certify that,” Yvette said. “It might be related to your background. Since elves exist—born magical prodigies—it’s not impossible you have some other special bloodline. And scoring over 100
points just means surpassing the average magical aptitude of ordinary elves. It isn’t unimaginable.”
Yes—in the Academy of Truth’s testing apparatus, 100 points corresponds to the average magical aptitude of the Elven race.
Since elves don’t need to take the entrance exam and can directly enter the Verdant College, a score beyond 100 is exceedingly rare.
Lucia’s aptitude matched the elves’, yet she showed no Elven or half-Elven traits. Yvette strongly suspected she might carry some special Human bloodline—and that this was why the Three Saints Church’s inquisitor, one Alistair Valois, secretly spirited Lucia away from that coercive situation, far from the danger looming over her.
“That’s a relief.” For some reason, Lucia trusted Yvette’s judgment more than the Academy of Truth’s.
Then she grimaced. “Uh-oh. Now a ton of people know about me. What do I do when I take the Battle Arts College’s divisional exam? If I lose, won’t everyone mock me?”
As the premier division for magic swordsmen, the Battle Arts College’s exams include many live-combat duels. As the first Human girl in history to blow past the device’s limit—with magical aptitude rivaling elves—she was bound to be the brightest star of this Spring Admissions.
When she takes the divisional exam, won’t everyone be watching? It’d be fine if she performs well—but what if she chokes?
More importantly, she had no idea how strong the other freshmen were. In a place like the Academy of Truth, surely crouching tigers and hidden dragons abound. She was a common girl from the countryside, suddenly turned “genius” here—she had zero confidence.
Yvette glanced at her.
She’d also taken a quick look at all Nine Divisions recently to get a sense of things. From the current combat levels of last year’s students, one conclusion was clear: those upperclassmen were mostly still quite basic.
If Lucia had never met Yvette, then in the original timeline—even if she made it to the Academy of Truth—things would’ve been rough. She was pure blue-bar and high output, with no edge in swordsmanship or combat arts.
But now it’s different. She’d received Yvette’s sword training and the improved combat art—and her opponents were fellow freshmen…
With that in mind, Yvette gave a firm answer: “You won’t lose.”
“And if I do?”
“I’ll be very disappointed.”
Lucia suddenly felt the weight on her shoulders grow a lot heavier.
Book 3: Chapter 210: Genius
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