"Shirayuki Otogibanashi."
My name was called: the long wait was over and I had to be evaluated.
Heartbeats thumped to the pulse of Snow White's forehead. It wasn't his loud heartbeats. Amaterasu unleashed the devil, and she didn't want to say anything more. Nor look at her fake brother─not after she lost the gamble.
I'd not digress extensively on the issue.
I just kept myself calm and stood, eased to have won a Giorno's treat.
Poor fake little sister has to draw from her pocket, feeding the son of business magnates when she herself doesn't usually buy new clothes.
It's my win, I winked at her.
Crack the knuckles once for each, and then walk.
Confident yet lazy─it was time to show the strongest gambit.
Well, it's an overrated thing but I do use it myself, notwithstanding each and every issues of power struggle.
For everything to run smoothly, I'd have to provide you with a crash course on the British Magic System. I mean, there's nothing much to understand if I leave everything to your keen perception. I ask for your forgiveness beforehand though: it's all in expositions.
I have to compromise for where we're not veering for the school battle setting as a complete narrative.
Else, I'm not too keen on the literary practice where I can effectively introduce them by show not tell.
According to the British Magic System, there's the practices of Black and White, Time and Space, Sound and Light, and Power and Mind.
Our latter three polarities can be explained as they're read.
Black and White only becomes unclear for their color codes.
However, they practically mean the malevolent and the benevolent─the former damages and the latter heals.
White magic focuses on support: healing is provided for each and every injury and illness if properly administered. Black Magic has its connection to the four core elements: earth, water, wind, and fire. Either raw or mixed and matched─they're bound in the category as long as they're designed to inflict harm. Harmless and harmful, the benevolent versus the malevolent.
Unsurprisingly, it's all based upon common sense.
I can at least picture you having played role-playing games before, or stumbled on the same conception elsewhere in your lives.
Naru looked at my frame and face, black folder in hand, while her assistants discussed the damned procedures I have to take.
Inconspicuous as it collapses all taskbars, she sighed followed by a relieved smile.
Anyway, the ordering wasn't by surnames, but by power level.
The strongest test subject will always be saved for last.
I hate giving myself the overblown adjective, but there was no way I couldn't state the position even if I haven't yet proved myself.
Kuroko Yamamoto has only coincidentally been the last person in the list if ordered alphabetically. He who broke a sweat from his fair usage of the spirits governing protection, smirked his lawful dread for the most proficient person in class. I also smiled in regards to his effort, our hands meeting in a high five─the fleeting tension I remember from when we were first years already gone.
Error to strife, it cannot be found.
It is reasonable for a fact that it's not entirely true─but alright, let's cast such a moment aside and deal with what's ahead.
I stood at the vertical center of the pool.
Talking to the examiners about what I would need to do didn't take long.
"I just have to…?" I wondered quizzically.
"Yes," the assistant said.
Sigh.
Execution was even shorter.
I only reached my hand for something, the runes to play their tune without verbal incantations.
No requests given to the spirits much obliged that they follow my rule.
And, the pool froze.
Nothing more or less than a wicked tour de force.
Where all you needed was blink, and you'd have missed the action.
Our tag─a spell cast by the Strongest Mage.
No shock factor given as it was common in the class.
All of us, if none of us, awaited the diagnosis which repeated itself the sixth time in three years.
Naru read out loud over the intercom:
"Student Number 25, Class 3, Section A, Military Magic Division: Shirayuki Otogibanashi. Mastery of Black Magic by commanding the Spirits of Ice. Final diagnosis, Level 5."
And if it wasn't enough, she added another string.
"Progress in breaking through Level 6: 40.00064%, 0.0002% closer than last period."
Another inch closer to Level 6.
Yeah, right.
I may have done something bold to have it rise up by an insignificant percentile…Well, whatever. I won't become one anytime soon as long as I hold back.
I left center field and as the last person to get his ratings, the Sequence to conclude alongside an invigorating show of nothingness.
The whole class might have been comfortable as well that they've learned their progress.
For myself, I went to where I left Amaterasu.
I was praised, I didn't take her seriously, and I could have wished she didn't but I knew she wouldn't even let me counter it.
She would say, "It's not flattery!" I would inevitably reply, "Sure, sure…"
It had a quiet progression, overall.
Not until somehow decided to drop the vase.
"So, now that we're done, Miss Narukami, how about telling us about Miss Ayanami's circumstances?"
Triggering all the insignificance hidden from everyone when the light flashed.
Someone from the class asked for our instructor's attention, her head turning to Gomiko Kuzuhara─the class president.
She's not bespectacled nor she doesn't sport braids.
Yet, she stood there dignified─her position not missing anyone's respect. Miss Kuzuhara snapped her fingers to where truth must be achieved. Else, we'd be spending the rest of our day wasted over the inconsistent persona.
The needle dropped─and all eyes directed to the teacher.
I looked at Nayami Ayanami.
Her cognition towards the event triggered─took her anxiety running beyond the spectrum. She locked her sight onto her shoes again, not wanting to meet anyone's judging look. Pressure bound unto the only person who was comfortable with her all these tiem.
Naru kept herself composed.
Else, calm enough not to show weakness to her students.
Vulnerability she'd been trying hard to hide, but nonetheless failed to conceal from the most flippant person in the room.
Well, she's doing her job fine enough so I'm not one to disrespect her and reveal her card.
She kept the troubled child besides her company, holding her shoulders for assurrance.
"Do you all really want to know?"
Synonymous to our class was the answer, "Yes."
We're curious, after all.
And look how the tables have turned, she huffed a sigh.
Softly, they stared at each other─the teacher indirectly transmitting compassion.
"You all have the idea, don't you, so why don't we leave it at that?"
All of us shared our consensus through a relay of eyes bouncing back and forth.
Better yet, except for Amaterasu and I who kept our server private, they're relying on the larger network.
All the butterflies channeled in their respective brains settled the confusion.
Our class president through and through, Kuzuhara released their collective thoughts with a smile on her face.
"If you're going to tell us she's a Sorcerer, then I suppose it's no longer a secret you need to protect."
Enter the term: Sorcerer.
When you're born out of the marriage between a Human and a Mage, then what you'll get in return is scorn.
Here's one shared consensus our class has.
We don't discriminate against them.
Suppose you're hiding something because you thought people won't agree with you. However, you find out that they don't care enough─and you're thrown to relief. All the while, you question your level of trust to all the people involved. How you thought of them as asses but you turned out to be the only one. Naru must have swirled around the emotion manically.
Disclaimer, I'm speaking under exaggerated terms.
Gomiko Kuzuhara didn't take her time exacting the least favorable facet in our mysterious companion's introduction.
"However, what does it exactly mean when she took the statement back and promoted herself to the gallery of the few?"
We might as well think it was also a facade, but calling herself a Mage would have been enough.
No one considered it to be a malfunction.
As awkward as the person entered, it might as well have been an awkward statement.
However, we're a class of many excursions.
Letting ourselves not take the careless bullshit seriously, we would have been the loads of bulls ourselves.
"We're missing a dire piece of information here that you can't exactly expect us to treat her properly."
Affirmative, the true answer would be slightly incongruent.
"Miss Origami should know exactly what's suspicious." Amaterasu's ears perked at the declared question. Nonetheless, Kuzuhara continued, "And once again, it has something to do with gauging Yukihime's path to Level 6."
"Hold it! You're not supposed to be the sleuth here, Gomi-chan!"
My fake little sister was ignored in that effect: she looked so pitiful turning her head to her fake older brother.
I ignored her.
"Well, I can't defend myself if that's what you all think," she said, huffing another sigh. "Yes, she's not a Sorcerer."
All of us stayed down.
Narumi Narukami held her head being deprecatingly unprepared despite holding on to a plan.
She wasn't overly nervous or anything, it was only mild.
I could bet that we were the kind of class she could trust any secrets with, as to why she'd been mostly comfortable.
However, it's also untrue in a sense that she wouldn't know until done.
Miss Ayanami stood looking at the tip of her shoes, the announcement to proceed from a drum rolling on parade.
"You see, she's a Psychic."
For someone already given the priceless information, I already knew─and indeed, it was cumbersome.
And if it wasn't inconvenient enough, she dropped a rather nonchalant bomb whilst suppressing her mirth.
"Long story short, she's theoretically stronger than anyone in the room." Her eyes shot towards my expressionless countenance, and soon the dominoes fell. "Shiro…It's exactly as Kuzuhara said. The King demands you take his throne, by hook or by crook."