Exam - 5 Day Two Starts

Day Two began early—no trumpets, no declarations, just a quiet buzz through the Academy and across Arcana.

Before most candidates were even fully awake, messengers, mana-sealed invites, and whispering constructs were already moving. Some students received flickering rune-scrolls inviting them for 'informal discussions' with mid-tier guilds. Others found tiny cards tucked into their belongings, bearing House seals or recruitment sigils, some marked with trace enchantments that glowed faintly under mana detection.

Talent, especially the kind that stood out yesterday, didn't go unnoticed for long.

In one quiet corner of the residential wing, Senna Vey stared at the sleek envelope left on her desk. No message. Just the seal of House Dravelle, cold and precise. She turned it over in her hands twice before finally sliding it into her drawer. The offer wasn't binding—but it meant something. A nod of recognition. Or a test. Maybe both.

Meanwhile, Riven Tol was caught mid-bite of a surprisingly decent breakfast roll when two guild agents approached him in the courtyard. One carried a data-scroll outlining his mana pattern trends. The other had a recruitment badge and a gift box containing a set of calibrated resonance cuffs. Their pitch? Simple: "Join us after the trials. We'll train you up, fund your research, and keep you out of boring paperwork. Just don't sign with anyone else yet."

"So, a bribe," Riven said, chewing slowly.

"An incentive," the second agent replied with a grin.

Some students, however, got offers that were less subtle.

A team of robed emissaries stood in formation just outside the Coliseum's main gates, flanked by sigil-bearers and armed retainers. Each passing student was evaluated, but only a few received packets—carefully inscribed scrolls sealed with the emblem of the rising Dendrite Syndicate. Their pitch? "We cultivate magical entrepreneurs." Their presence? Loud. Deliberate.

Elsewhere, a trio of students exiting the alchemical division found themselves approached by an older man wearing patchy robes and a guild crest obscured under illusion magic. He handed them coins. Old, tarnished ones. Each had a rune carved into the center.

"If it glows after your next exam," he said with a raspy grin, "we'll talk."

Others simply got watched. Carefully. Continuously.

The noble Houses weren't the only ones watching. Clans from beyond the city had already arrived. A yokai-led envoy observed from an elevated balcony, exchanging murmured thoughts through linked mind-threads. One took particular interest in a quiet girl practicing illusion patterns during her break, noting her control and lack of vanity.

A pair of dwarven engineers manned a floating observation deck, excitedly sketching down the field geometry from Section D's array trials. One of them tapped the side of a bronze helm and muttered, "This kid's rotation field is three points tighter than standard. You know what that means."

"If he doesn't blow himself up in round two," the other added.

Near the coliseum's side courts, a cloaked figure in worn scholar's robes scribbled down notes beside an alchemical stall, occasionally muttering corrections to the vendor's measurements under his breath. He didn't represent anyone—at least not officially. But the ink he used shimmered slightly when it touched parchment.

And even among the instructors, a few were already whispering recommendations behind closed doors. A few of them had already sent names up to administration, flagged with things like "Mentorship Potential," or "Should not be left unsupervised."

Day Two hadn't really started.

But the competition off the battlefield?

That was well underway.

Alex, however, had no intention of stepping into a test today.

He had passed Day One with enough polish and restraint to be shortlisted by half a dozen major evaluators and flagged by several Houses. There was no need to overdo it. Besides, he preferred watching the chaos rather than diving straight into it.

So, with a half-empty mug of lukewarm herbal concentrate and a toothpick lodged in the corner of his mouth (a recent anti-snacking habit that no one dared question), Alex strolled through the upper platforms of the Coliseum's observation lanes.

His goal? See what the rest of the hopefuls were doing. Maybe spot the next disaster—or the next rival.

He passed one student giving what looked like a passionate speech to a panel of illusionary aristocrats… only for it to be interrupted by a hiccup spell that set one of the avatars laughing uncontrollably.

"Confidence. Ten out of ten," Alex muttered, scratching his neck. "Execution? Eh."

Further down, a guy tried to bend fire and water into a hybrid spell and ended up with steaming soup orbiting his head. A recruiter from some minor House politely turned away, pretending they hadn't just witnessed a candidate invent elemental broth.

At the far side, one particularly animated girl kept snapping her fingers at her mana array. It refused to activate, until she growled and headbutted it. It flared to life.

"I like her," Alex said aloud to no one.

He continued walking, nodding at a few passing instructors. A couple gave him a long look but didn't stop him. Everyone knew who he was. More importantly, they knew he knew who they were. Mutual tolerance at its finest.

Section B and C were especially lively.

In weaponsmithing, one poor candidate managed to enchant a blade that shrieked whenever it moved. The instructor, without missing a beat, jotted down, "Creative—find a way to turn it off."

Two technomancers nearly came to blows after one accused the other of copying a schematic using a mimic-drone. The constructs started wrestling on the table. A third candidate offered popcorn. The examiner asked them all to sit down—mostly because the drone had started chanting something in binary.

In body enhancement, a guy puffed himself up with temporary muscle infusion spells, shouted his name, and flexed—only for the spell to backfire and send him flailing into a water trough. He crawled out and saluted. Everyone clapped.

The alchemy area wasn't much better. Someone mislabeled a vial and triggered a laughing gas reaction that turned half the class into giggling wrecks. One girl still managed to brew a minor invisibility serum while laughing nonstop. Alex made a mental note: useful under pressure.

Weapon summoning exams were loud. One guy tried to summon a single sword and brought in a pile of blunt weapons instead. When asked if this was intentional, he shrugged and said, "I believe in backup."

In Section D, a student etched a beautiful array—precise lines, solid structure. Then activated it and accidentally turned the ambient sound into a full musical performance. It took five minutes to disable the echo charm, but the crowd enjoyed the tune.

Alex just watched it all. Toothpick still in place. Herbal drink long gone.

"Arcana," he muttered, "you never disappoint."

Every section was open for viewing—no curtains, no secrecy. Crystal feeds and magical projectors displayed every stumble and standout for everyone across the city to see. In taverns, study halls, private salons, and remote guild chambers, people were watching. Some laughed, some whispered predictions, and a few took notes with a little too much intensity.

For every student trying to make a name, there were dozens watching to see who'd trip over their own ego. And a handful, like Alex, watching to spot the ones who could actually climb.

Day Two was still going. But impressions had already been made.

Some foolish. Some brilliant. Some unforgettable.

And the rest?

Still trying to figure out which one they'd be.