Meanwhile, the teachers analyzed the leading group's situation from afar.
Ethela spoke up.
"Hoh… Shirone truly has remarkable talent."
Given her usual reluctance to voice opinions, her words carried extra weight.
The other teachers nodded in agreement.
"Mark is impressive for his class, but he's still immature. His rhythm is wavering. Visually, his jumps range from 9.5 to 11 meters—a 1.5-meter margin of error."
It was a fluctuation born of mental strain.
"Meanwhile, Shirone's rhythm is perfectly consistent. Their speeds are evenly matched, but Shirone has the advantage in this battle."
As the teachers showered praise, only Sade wore an unreadable expression.
'Talent, huh…'
He glanced at Alpheas, but the man's face betrayed nothing.
Just then, a Class Seven student who hadn't participated in the exam asked Sade:
"Teacher, how can someone maintain a rhythm as steady as Shirone's? I've never seen anything like it."
A teleportation chain with zero deviation didn't seem humanly possible.
Even Sade had to concede this time.
"That's…"
Amy cut in.
"He's using obsession."
Seriel nodded in agreement.
"Specifically, repetition compulsion. Objectifying yourself stabilizes the mind and creates a unique inertia. To artificially induce it to this degree is impressive—especially since Class Seven isn't taught advanced Spirit Zone techniques."
Obsession was a dangerous mental state.
"He must have learned it before coming to the academy. It helps him endure pain. Sometimes, you have to become a machine."
To seize what you desire.
Swallowing the rest of her words, Amy fixed her gaze on Shirone, racing at the front.
It almost felt like he was flying straight toward her.
'Hurry up.'
I won't wait for you.
Meanwhile, Mark's irritation grew as Shirone stubbornly held the lead.
'Damn it! Why can't I overtake him?!'
Realizing this wasn't working, he shot a glare at his strategy team. A girl flinched.
'Is he telling me to do it now?'
There was a way.
If she abandoned the race and chained a spell instead, she could briefly overtake Shirone.
'Then force a simultaneous dropout.'
The problem was how obvious it would look—but it was better than doing nothing and losing.
'My future's on the line too.'
With a burst of sonic booms, she teleported in rapid succession, cutting Shirone off.
"Tch!"
The moment Shirone slammed on the brakes, another teammate swooped in from the side.
'Sorry. Let's die together.'
Shirone instantly grasped the situation.
'A human projectile attack.'
In that split second, he saw the boy closing in on him squeeze his eyes shut.
'Seriously?!'
"AAAAHHH!"
Just as the boy screamed, bracing for impact—
"Guh—! …Huh?"
The expected collision never came.
When he opened his eyes, Shirone stood exactly 10 meters away, having halted his momentum.
'He dodged?!'
Shirone had shattered his forward inertia and veered sharply to the right.
It was better than a mutual dropout, but his tempo was broken, and his path was compromised.
"Heh heh."
The strategy team member, his spirit exhausted, grinned as he fell. Mark reclaimed the lead.
"Damn it…!"
Shirone immediately gave chase, but the break in his compulsion left him utterly drained.
The upperclassmen spectators murmured in surprise.
"Did those guys just move weirdly?"
"I thought so too. Maybe they messed up their coordination? No way they actually tried to crash into him, right?"
The only boy sitting on the ground chimed in.
"They absolutely did it on purpose."
His voice was thin, like scraping metal. The Class Five students turned to look.
It was a strange-looking boy.
Gaunt, with mismatched eyes, jagged teeth, and a hooked nose.
Merkodain Iruki—the same boy who had advised Shirone during the joint class when the others mocked him.
His classmates frowned.
"How can you be so sure? I get being suspicious, but unless you're involved, you can't know."
Iruki opened his palm and slammed a fist into it.
"One blocks the path, the other strikes from the side. It's a perfect trap—using teleportation's instant movement and spatial leap against him. If Shirone hadn't deviated from his original path, he'd have been eliminated. Though I would've used motion equations to escape."
His classmates turned away without another word.
'Show-off.'
Shirone grew impatient.
The distance was one thing, but the number of turns already put him at a disadvantage against Mark.
Only 350 meters remained.
Half the race was over, and everyone except Shirone and Mark had been eliminated.
With the lead secured, Mark felt electricity coursing through his veins.
'First place.'
Even after nearly 40 teleportations, he felt no fatigue.
'Today, I'm different. If I keep this up, I'll pass. It'll really be me!'
He'd ascend to Class Five.
The envious faces of his peers, the bitter scowls of the Class Six seniors, the image of himself praised as a genius—it all flashed through his mind like a panorama.
"Hahaha! I'm the best!"
As Mark accelerated, Shirone pushed harder, but the gap didn't close.
'Mark's in perfect condition. He'll finish like this. I can't overtake him at this rate.'
Only one option remained.
'Acceleration.'
Increasing his leap distance was risky—it would destroy his rhythm.
Instead, he had to speed up his teleportation chain, staying half a beat ahead of Mark.
"Hrrgh!"
Gritting his teeth, he upped the tempo. The air vibrated like a drumbeat, and the spectators' excitement peaked.
"Shirone's catching up! This is the climax!"
"Mark! Faster! MORE, MORE, MORE!"
Like the final sprint of a footrace, the distance closed, sending adrenaline surging through everyone.
Then—
The bridge's steel beams began writhing like rubber bands.
Mark's brow furrowed.
At first, he thought it was an optical illusion, but the black metal was undeniably moving like a living thing.
"What the—?"
The Impassable Bridge was made of alchemically treated material—a special substance that reacted to electromagnetic forces, allowing it to change shape at will.
'Level 1 isn't supposed to have obstacles…?'
Contrary to Mark's expectations, the black iron rod bent like rubber, twisting into a looped noose as it surged upward.
It looked as if someone had bent wire into a perfect circle.
Mark: "Agh! What the—?!"
At the same time he recoiled in shock, Mark's body was already passing through the giant hoop, barely escaping its grip.
Though the situation wasn't immediately life-threatening, the transformed iron rod now had the hardness of tempered steel.
Shirone (thoughts): 'Why is this happening?'
Then, a mechanical woman's voice echoed through the air.
Warning. Warning. Activating the Uncrossable Bridge's trap mechanism. Level 10. Level 10.
Mark: "...What?"
Not only was the sudden activation of the traps baffling, but Level 10 was the highest difficulty the Uncrossable Bridge could deploy.
Black iron rods shot out one after another, bending and twisting into grotesque obstacles.
Onlooker (student): "Wh-what is that?!"
Since Class Four's training difficulty only went up to Level 6, the terror of the spectators was understandable.
Teacher (panicked): "What's going on?! Why did the traps activate all of a sudden?!"
The instructors were thrown into chaos.
The obstacles designed for graduating students were not only complex in shape but also launched at blinding speeds, drastically increasing the risk of injury.
Sade (gritting teeth): "Damn it!"
Sade was the first to react, teleporting straight to the control room. The remaining teachers shouted after him.
Teacher (urgent): "Headmaster, what should we do? The promotion exam—!"
Only Shirone and Mark remained in the trial.
Stopping the exam now—in the middle of an unpredictable, neck-and-neck battle—would undoubtedly spark controversy.
Especially since this was a promotion exam. It wasn't just about the students; powerful families would have their say.
Alpheas (thoughts): 'This isn't just any promotion. It's a jump to to Class Five. Even the eliminated students will demand fairness.'
The teachers' concerns were valid, but Alpheas exploded in anger.
Alpheas (roaring): "Is that what you're worried about right now?! Cancel the exam immediately and send the signal to halt!"
Arriving on the ground with a thunderous teleportation, Sade scowled and stormed toward the control room.
Sade (muttering): "Just wait till I find out who's responsible."
For a prestigious institution like Alpheas Magic Academy to suffer a mechanical malfunction was unthinkable.
Sade (thoughts): 'Probably Baker's fault.'
Assuming it was the technician's mistake, he violently twisted the control room's door handle.
Sade (surprised): "Huh?"
It was locked.
The realization that this might not be an accident made his expression darken.
Sade (coldly): "You wanna play games with me?"
As he summoned a massive fireball in his right hand, his Spirit Zone detected someone inside.
Sade (thoughts): 'Huh?'
A person was sitting with their back against the iron door.
If he unleashed his magic now, they'd be caught in the blast. So instead, he issued a warning.
Sade (commanding): "Open the door. I'm about to cast Fire Strike. If you don't, you'll die too."
Female Voice (weakly): "I don't care. No—please, just do it."
Sade (recognizing her): "…Maria? Is that you?"
He hadn't been her instructor, but she'd been at the academy since his own graduation days.
Maria (softly): "You remember me?"
Sade (frustrated): "Of course I do. What the hell is this? You've ruined the promotion exam. This is a disaster."
Maria (whispering): "I'm sorry… I messed up again."
Sade (calmer now): "Let's talk face to face."
Maria (voice trembling): "Am I going to be expelled, Professor? Or… will I go to prison?"
Sade (firm): "No, Maria. Whatever's going on, I'll hear you out."
Maria (breaking down): "It's like I was dreaming. Only after I did it… did I realize how insane I was. I'm so sorry…"
Sade (growing impatient): "Then open the door. I don't want to force my way in."
Maria (despairing): "I don't want to live anymore, Professor. What am I supposed to do now?"
Sade (silent for a moment): "..."
Hearing Maria's choked sobs, Sade quietly extinguished the flames in his palm.
His initial goal—shutting down the traps to salvage the exam—no longer mattered.
Sade (thoughts): 'Erlang Maria.'
What kind of student had she been?
Quiet. Timid. The kind whose name rarely appeared on any school records.
Sade (sighing): "Fine. I get it."
Scratching his head, he turned away and slumped against the railing, as if refusing to think further.
Sade (grumbling): "If you don't wanna come out, then don't."
Maria didn't respond.
But the fact that she wasn't shaking the doorknob or screaming meant she'd calmed down slightly.
In the heavy silence, Sade gazed up at the sky.
Sade (thoughts): 'Still the same as ever.'
The same sky he'd hated during his school days—too blue, too vast over Alpheas Magic Academy.
Maria (softly): "Professor…"
Sade (grunting): "…What?"
Maria (hesitant): "Do you hate me?"
Sade (snorting): "You don't know me very well, do you? I don't hate women."
Maria (miserable): "Why is the world so unfair?"
Sade (dryly): "You hate unfairness? Well, not many are born as pretty as you, either."
Maria (bitterly): "You wouldn't understand, Professor. You're called a genius mage. You don't know what it's like to have no talent. No matter how hard I try, all I feel is despair. Like nothing will ever work out. Do you have any idea how that feels?"
Sade (unexpectedly serious): "Actually… I know exactly how it feels."
Maria's breath hitched. She turned slightly toward the door.
Maria (disbelieving): "…You?"
Sade (chuckling): "Let's see… I've been a teacher for four years now. Graduated from this place at twenty-two. So when you enrolled, I was in my final year. You knew I was an Alpheas graduate, right?"
Maria (nodding): "Yes."
Sade (smirking): "Then think back. Did you ever hear rumors about a 'genius' named Sade attending this school?"
Maria (silent): "..."
Now that he mentioned it… she couldn't recall anything.