Mark opened his window.
Stretching lazily in the crisp morning air, he headed to the bathroom to wash up. A smirk played on his lips as he changed clothes.
Finally, the day's here.
Today would be a historic moment in his life.
Skipping from Class Seven straight to Class Five. I can't wait to see the looks on those Class Six losers' faces.
The Shirone bullying incident wasn't any one person's fault, but Mark had undeniably been the ringleader.
At fifteen, his imposing physique made him the de facto leader of Class Seven. In the world of magic, physical strength meant little—but among kids, size alone was enough to command fear.
And since he had magical talent to back it up, no one questioned his authority.
"Young Master, how are you feeling?"
A lean-framed man entered the room—Mark's private teleportation instructor. Though hastily hired by his family for this urgent task, the man was a certified 9th-rank mage and a skilled tactician, leaving Mark satisfied.
"Not bad. What about Shirone?"
"Still the same. Even if teleportation has standardized principles, self-teaching has its limits. Even if he takes the promotion exam, he won't stand a chance against you."
"Hmm. Still, I shouldn't underestimate him. His Spirit Zone is larger than mine."
Mark smirked at his own words.
People said complacency was the downfall of geniuses, but he was different.
Natural talent combined with hard work—that's me. There's no way I'll lose to some nobody.
Mark asked, "By the way, how many are participating in the operation?"
"As of yesterday, four."
"That's fewer than I expected. A chance for personal training from a certified mage isn't something you get every day."
"They don't know their place. Or maybe it's just petty pride."
Mark snorted, recalling the faces of his classmates who had refused to join.
Did you really think you stood a chance at promotion? Talentless hacks.
He grinned at his reflection.
Fine, do what you want. It's not like it matters. I'm the one moving up to Class Five—Slider Mark.
The Slider family held a third-tier noble rank, and Mark's father was a technical advisor to the Magic Association.
Of course, Alpheas Magic Academy housed nobles with far greater influence, but within magical society, few could rival Mark's connections.
Using his family's power, Mark had assembled a team to sabotage Shirone.
It was surprising that prideful nobles agreed to such underhanded tactics, but his offer had been too tempting: personal training from a 10th-rank mage and guaranteed employment after graduation, regardless of academic performance.
Those who accepted were talented in their own right—and smart enough to recognize their limits.
Why gamble on a one-in-a-million promotion when you can take a sure deal?
"Four is enough. I'll crush him early."
"How's your teleportation progress?"
Mark flashed a thumbs-up before stepping out.
"Perfect. I could cross 700 meters blindfolded."
"I wish you success, Young Master."
Even after their contract ended, the 9th-rank mage treated Mark with deference. Though ten years his senior, the man's superior was Mark's father—an unassailable figure.
Mark headed to the advanced-class building.
With the promotion exam today, regular classes were canceled. Only those not participating remained, studying with grim expressions—likely weighed down by the shame of not even qualifying.
Mark soaked in his superiority.
Idiots. Then again, you'll all be polishing my shoes someday anyway.
Spotting Maria in the distance, he waved and called out.
"Hey! You giving up on the exam too?"
Maria paled.
Of all people…
Since confessing her role in Shirone's bullying to Siana, she had become even more timid.
Trembling, she forced herself to speak first.
"Mark, aren't you going to the training grounds? Are you… studying too?"
"Hah! As if I'd be like you. I've got some business first."
Being talked down to by someone four years younger would've once angered her, but now she felt nothing.
"And what are you doing here? Think cramming today will change anything? No wonder you're stuck. You should be at the training grounds observing. Watching your betters is part of learning."
"Y-Yeah, you're right…"
Even as Mark lectured her arrogantly, Maria could only muster an awkward smile. She just wanted the conversation to end.
"Good luck. I hope you pass."
"Keke! You really mean that?"
His sneer froze Maria's heart. It was like he knew.
"I've tolerated you as a classmate so far. But once I'm your senior, you'd better be ready. I haven't forgotten you tattling to the teacher."
"H-How did you—?"
Realizing her slip, Maria clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Hah! Knew it. Information gets around. Someone as spineless as you suddenly visiting the faculty office? Obviously something was up. Anyway, look forward to it."
Maria felt dizzy.
If Mark passes this exam…
The harassment would be unbearable—enough to make her consider dropping out.
As she stood there trembling, Mark snorted and walked past.
Pathetic. You think you can be a mage like this? Then again, thanks to you, I got my opportunity.
Entering the classroom, he found four classmates waiting—three boys and one girl. They had spent the past month training to sabotage Shirone.
We'll take him out early.
Deliberate interference was against the rules, but in the initial chaos, it would be hard to prove.
"Everything set?"
The girl nodded.
"Yeah. Two will engage Shirone immediately. The other two cover you. If he pushes past, we'll use the last resort."
They'd only have two chances to eliminate Shirone before the distance made it impossible.
Mark said, "Shirone's single-jump range is the standard ten meters. Intel confirms it. To finish this within 100 meters, we need to succeed within the first ten jumps."
A boy smirked.
"Leave it to us. We'll make sure of it."
"I won't forget this. Once I'm promoted early, I'll look out for you."
"Yeah. We're counting on you."
Mark was satisfied.
Everything was going according to plan. Soon, he'd be the proud prodigy leaping two classes at once.
"Alright! Let's move out."
Students streamed onto the 1,000-meter peak—not just from Class Seven, but upperclassmen too.
After today, one Class Seven student would advance directly to Class Five.
Considering it normally took two years to move up a single class, this meant someone potentially four years younger could become their peer.
"Whoa! So this is the Uncrossable Bridge. First time seeing it."
The examinees gaped at the massive training ground. On the opposite peak 700 meters away, teachers and seniors looked like specks.
"But why's it called a bridge? There's no bridge."
"Idiot, look there."
Between the two cliffs stretched a single metal bar no thicker than an arm.
Given its length, the bar's tension should've been weak—yet its flawless straightness hinted at anything but ordinary material.
A few students peered over the edge, but no safety measures were visible.
"What the hell? There's nothing down there!"
"No need to worry. We'll be watching."
Sade—who had been on the opposite peak moments ago—now stood behind them.
One participant asked, "But other schools have had fatalities during teleportation drills…"
"Of course. Deaths can happen in any magic curriculum. You of all people should know that. But when I say don't worry, I mean about falling. Past incidents weren't from falls—they were from midair collisions."
"S-So if we crash into each other, it's dangerous?"
Sade's expression turned stern.
"If you're scared, quit now."
"..."
"Come back when you've trained enough to control yourself. The academy might even encourage it. But this is an early promotion test. We're selecting those fit for Class Five—those who can protect themselves. If you're not ready, back out now."
No one withdrew, but tension hung thick in the air.
As Sade turned away, his lips curled.
Heh. They're terrified.
With teachers supervising, nothing too dangerous would happen—but this was still their first real test.
Fear keeps them careful. The real danger is…
The competitive fury of those who overcame that fear.
"Sigh."
Sade exhaled deeply.
"I can already see a few."
Meanwhile, among the students gathering on the opposite peak were some notable figures.
"Ugh, it's been forever since I came here. Aemy, let's go there. Best view."
As Seriel dragged her along, Aemy frowned but followed.
"I don't care. Class Seven's level is predictable. This is a waste of time."
"Wow, really? It's the day your boyfriend might jump to Class Five! If you don't cheer him now, when will you?"
"Tch! Pass or fail, it's up to him. What's cheering gonna do?"
Despite her act, Aemy was more curious than anyone.
Just how much has Shirone improved in a month?
…Can he even do it?
While practical training was best for teleportation, the process was so grueling that most only started after mastering basic self-protection.
Aemy had brute-forced her way through thanks to her Schema, but Shirone lacked that advantage.
But he's not the type to quit. Is he even in good condition?
Even in Class Seven, there were several noteworthy talents.
Honestly, anyone failing wouldn't be surprising.
"Wait, where's Shirone? I don't see him."
As Seriel craned her neck, Aemy snatched her telescope and scanned the area.
Among the twenty students warming up near the cliff, Shirone was nowhere to be found.
"What? Where is he?"
"Don't tell me he failed the spell…?"
"..."
Aemy couldn't dismiss the possibility.
She'd trusted Shirone, but teleportation wasn't a spell beginners could self-teach easily.
Gritting her teeth, she thought:
You idiot! Where the hell are you?!
Warm sunlight gently roused Shirone from his slumber.
Strangely, the sky seemed higher than usual. As a magpie fluttered before his eyes, memories flooded back.
"Aaaah! What the—?!"
He was right in the middle of the training grounds. After collapsing last night, he had slept straight through until now.
With chronic sleep deprivation and his body pushed to its limits, losing consciousness wasn't surprising.
'The promotion exam!'
A cold sweat trickled down Shirone's spine as he immediately pushed himself up and sprinted toward the training field. There was no time to even ask for the time.
Climbing 1,000 meters above sea level? Forget about physical condition—his only option was to run like hell.
'Please! Please!'