Millennium Witch-Book 3: Chapter 211: A Chance for Mutual Achievement
In a world where information doesn’t travel fast and entertainment is scarce, February is one of the liveliest times of the year in the City of Truth.
People of every human-kin lineage gather from north and south, sea and land, giving the city’s ordinary folk a steady stream of topics. In taverns or cafés, on ink-still-wet newspapers or at every street corner, folks argue like they’re in a bout over which candidates this year are famous, who’s stronger, who’s weaker, who counters whom, and who has the deepest potential.
Unlike past years, though, once a girl named “Lucia Sterling” stunned everyone like a spring thunderclap at the College of General Studies testing site—with a talent score that broke the scale—the debate over this year’s top freshman genius ended as quickly as a lightning strike.
After all, the quantified talent score is a hard metric embodying comprehensive potential for magical cultivation. Created by the Academy’s founder, the Legendary Mage, it has proven remarkably accurate over the years. It’s never disappointed: students with high scores simply do better at meditation efficiency, same-tier mag-pressure values, and so on. No question about it.
But magical potential is one thing; actual performance is another.
So when people learned that the prodigy’s first choice was the popular division, the Battle Arts College, many confident freshmen had their fighting spirit instantly stoked. They all hoped to cross blades with that genius girl in the ranking bouts; if they could cut her down, wouldn’t they become campus legends overnight?
District Two of the City of Truth, Battle Arts College, the dean’s office. A warm fireplace drove off the winter chill, beading the windowpanes with fine droplets of condensation.
On the sofa by the tea table sat Dean “Ignatius Zackley,” carefully reviewing a freshman still wet with ink. His face lay somewhere between youth and middle age, his exact years unreadable; a cascade of flame-orange hair fell down his back, a river of fire from afar.
Opposite him sat the Chair of Magic Swordsmen, “Conrad Dean,” a tall, straight-backed middle-aged man with hair combed to perfection. At the Greatsword Master rank with 10,000 units of mana, he was a nation-destroying powerhouse who could easily wipe a small South Alliance country from the map.
He’d walked in with the only minutes ago. Seeing the dean’s open smile, Conrad said, “Dean, what do you think?”
“Think about what?” Ignatius asked.
“That girl called Lucia,” Conrad said.
An unknown girl from a backwater little country suddenly breaking the Human race’s magic-aptitude limit—it was downright uncanny.
“How would I know? But I hope it’s true. At the very least, it proves the Human upper limit isn’t necessarily worse than the elves’—just the thing to smack those arrogant types in the face,” Ignatius said.
Conrad sighed. He feared it was false. But the on-site examiners had double- and triple-checked and guaranteed it was genuine, so he couldn’t press the doubt.
“If it’s true, is she really the number one genius in Human history?” Conrad asked again.
“Why?”
“I’m curious—was the Legendary Mage’s talent stronger back then?”
“I actually asked Ms. Tertia that. She said the Legendary Mage’s magical talent was fairly mediocre—possibly worse than most people’s.”
“Huh?”
“Truly. At least, that’s what Ms. Tertia said,” Ignatius replied. “Once you reach the Archmage level, raw talent stops mattering. Magical insight is what counts.”
Conrad fell silent. Many years ago, he too had been a top-tier prodigy. But after reaching the Archmage realm, with a mana value at the standard 10,000 units, there’d been no progress. Stuck, ever since.
To keep going—to reach the so-called ‘Saint Realm’—bodily talent is useless. What you need is insight: into runes, into yourself, even into the world.
That’s why most professors at the Archmage level keep launching projects, probing questions, and mentoring students—using the process to understand magic, grasp the world’s nature, and find their own path to sainthood.
“People only know the Saint Realm was a new realm the Legendary Mage pioneered. Few know she went from Archmage to Saint in a single night.”
“One night?” Conrad froze.
The bottleneck that had held him for decades—the Legendary Mage shattered it in one night?
Even if their insight differed—wasn’t that gap a little too vast?
“Yes. One night,” Ignatius said, reverence deepening on his face. As dean of the Battle Arts College, he was indisputably a top magic swordsman on the continent, famed as “the Flame Demon’s Hand” for severing a Flame Demon clan commander’s arm on the Human–Demon battlefield.
And yet even he, now in the Saint Realm, couldn’t fathom how the Legendary Mage had become a saint overnight.
Perhaps that’s why she became the only later-ascended True God in history.
After musing for a while, Ignatius went on, “…So you have to split talent into parts. If you’re only talking physique, that girl Lucia might be the strongest magical talent the Human race has ever produced. But if you include insight, the Legendary Mage is a mountain no one can surpass.”
Finished with the “number-one genius” topic, Ignatius continued reading—and soon smiled again. “We’ve got three more promising seedlings with scores over 80? This Spring Admissions has been good to our college.”
“Parris Komodo, a wolfkin youth from the Free Alliance—aptitude 82. He also has the beastkin’s beast-form. Generally, that puts him a cut above Human magic swordsmen—”
“Regan Avarret of the Sitt Kingdom—an even 80. Seems to be a certain count’s son. With that talent, once he graduates and returns, it should be easy to enter the Crimson Sanctum. ‘Flami Frost,’ eighty-nine—this high? If not for Lucia Sterling, she’d be this Spring’s top prodigy—wait, she’s also from some small South Alliance country? Since when is the South Alliance this impressive?” Ignatius grew more and more surprised, and finally said, “…This entrance assessment should be quite the show. Reserve me a seat for the ranking challenge.”
“You plan to attend personally?” Conrad asked.
Ignatius smiled. “Those three seedlings are interesting, and mainly—I want to see that girl Lucia’s real combat. Who knows, watching her, I might want to take her as a disciple.”
“Understood.” Conrad was a bit relieved. In academy affairs, Dean Ignatius Zackley was generally conscientious; his only flaw was hating hassle and disliking taking students. He hadn’t accepted a disciple to this day, leaving his skills without an heir.
If that prodigy Lucia Sterling can seize the chance and win the dean’s favor, it would truly be a chance for mutual achievement!
The Battle Arts College’s entrance exam fell at the end of February.
Though early spring was close, the late-winter morning was still bitterly cold, making you want to tuck your hands into your sleeves.
At dawn’s first light, Lucia rolled out of bed, left the second bedroom, and saw the chestnut-haired girl in the master still fast asleep. She walked over and gently poked her cheek. “Up and at ’em, time to get up, Yvette! Today’s the entrance assessment!”
The chestnut-haired girl cracked her eyes, drowsy. “The College of General Studies… has no entrance assessment…”
“No way?” Lucia was startled.
“Why would I lie to you?”
“Okay then—” Lucia switched to a coaxing tone. “You can still come with me!”
“No. I’m sleeping.”
“Mnn~”
“Don’t ‘mnn.’ Also, I’m expecting good news.”
An hour later, riding the academy car of the subway, Lucia went from District Nine to District Two and stepped alone through the Battle Arts College gates.
Near the on-campus testing grounds, the stands were already packed—students of this college, and crowds from others who’d come to watch after hearing the news. When the red-haired girl appeared, a slew of gazes locked onto her at once, followed by the whispering buzz of her talent score.
Listening to the envious or jealous murmurs, Lucia sighed inwardly and, without a word, headed for the waiting area outside the arena.
Book 3: Chapter 211: A Chance for Mutual Achievement
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