"Hmm?"
Serie glanced at Lernen, who stood at the grand hall entrance. His magical power, given his age, wasn't bad. She waved him in.
After receiving permission, Lernen gently pressed his hand to his chest and bowed, showing his gratitude. Then he quickly entered the hall, awaiting further instructions from the legendary Archmage.
"Human noble etiquette... a court mage, is it..."
With just those few movements, Serie had already deduced most of his identity.
After all, among her many disciples across history, some were nobility. In fact, the very position of "Court Mage" had its origins in the structure established by her disciple Flamme a thousand years ago.
"After all, he's someone humanity has already screened as a top mage."
Seeing that Lernen did not falter under her immense magical pressure and remained committed to passing the test, Serie nodded slightly, already inclined to approve him.
Though a bit timid in personality… under her guidance, it might be interesting to see how far such a mage could go.
"Approved. Go call in the next candidate."
"And also, tell those still waiting that today's examination has ended."
Serie stretched lazily as she spoke, pulling back the lock of hair that her disciple Gut had been playing with.
Lernen brought in the final candidate of the day.
"Unqualified. Leave."
The moment the examinee stood firm, Serie's cold voice rang out.
"Why, Lady Serie?!"
"Hmm?"
Gut looked curiously at the final examinee of the day. His magic power was quite decent for his age, and he showed no fear under Serie's aura—he even dared to question her.
Though Gut didn't particularly like the guy's attitude, by Serie's standards, this seemed like an unusually fast rejection.
Then Serie gave an answer that explained everything:
"Your magic power was elevated by something you found in a ruin in the Northern Nations, wasn't it?"
"Did you really think that after taking that ancient potion from the Unified Empire era, your power still had room to grow?"
The examinee's eyes widened. He knelt, trembling, and poured out his story.
He hadn't known the potion would have such dire consequences. He had merely found an ancient treasure map in an abandoned monastery near the Empire's border.
It marked a location in the Etwas Mountains of the Northern Nations, believed to contain a relic. The map's creator claimed it likely held a potion that could rapidly enhance magical power.
Following the map, he found the ruin on the first try and obtained the potion. Just as the map described, the potion caused his magic to surge without training—his magic grew ten times faster than normal.
But...
The effect lasted less than a month. Around then, he heard Serie was accepting disciples and rushed to join, hoping to use his recent power surge to become her student.
"You may go. I will not accept a disciple with no potential," Serie stated coldly.
Still, the mage knelt, sobbing, begging Serie to help him—to tell him how to remove the potion's side effects.
"There is no such method."
Serie stepped down from her throne, clearly intent on throwing him out, but paused, softening just slightly.
"Can you still absorb magic from the outside world?"
"…Huh?"
The mage looked confused, then answered, "No… I can't absorb any more."
"I can barely even sense magic anymore," he sobbed.
Gut, standing nearby, didn't know what to say.
No wonder he hadn't been afraid of Serie's pressure—it turned out he couldn't sense it at all anymore.
If you can't feel it, you won't fear it.
"He's beyond saving," Serie said flatly. "Not just your potential—your very life is forfeit."
"The potion that burned your potential is now consuming your life."
"Hire the fastest carriage and head to the Offen Mountains. There's a tree there, called the Icicle Cherry Blossom Tree, which grows in remote areas."
"Its sap is mildly toxic, but it can greatly slow the spread of the potion's effects, easing your final days."
"Th-thank you, Lady Serie."
The doomed mage got up and bowed deeply before walking out like a soul lost.
Gut followed him out, told the remaining candidates to return tomorrow, then pulled out a Strahl silver coin, asking if anyone would escort the mage back to his inn.
A middle-aged mage volunteered. "Just get him back to the inn, right?"
"Yes."
"…What happened to him?" asked a young girl in the crowd, pointing to the lifeless figure.
Gut paused, then said, "Probably scared stiff by Lady Serie."
"Eh—?!"
…
When Gut returned and closed the grand hall doors, a voice called softly:
"Am I that scary, Gut?"
"Haha…" Gut scratched his head, not answering.
Fortunately, Serie didn't press further. Watching her two disciples, she spoke:
"You're both officially my disciples now."
"Before introductions, show me your magic."
"For a mage, what we wield says more than words ever could."
"Gut, you go first."
"Uh… I don't think that's a good idea. How about… my junior goes first?"
Gut hesitated, thinking of the few spells he actually had—mostly some Goddess Magic learned from books at the monastery… and that one…
Lernen looked between Serie and Gut, unsure if he should go first.
"If I say you go first, you go first. Gut, show me your magic."
Serie spoke impatiently, watching her senior disciple with suspicion.
"…Alright then."
Gut took a deep breath. "Sorry, Teacher Serie."
He raised his left hand toward her and shouted:
"Steal!"