legacy of being a master's child

The next paper was English, and James approached it with his usual calm determination. Though he hadn't studied the language extensively in this life, his previous memories gave him a considerable advantage. The questions ranged from grammar exercises to comprehension passages and short essay writing. With his precise understanding, James breezed through it, finishing well ahead of time. He used the extra minutes to polish his answers, ensuring neatness and clarity.

But the real challenge of the day was yet to come.

The final paper was titled Magic and Martial Arts, a subject that would test not only knowledge but also the potential to endure under pressure. This exam was deliberately scheduled last, its difficulty compounded by the long day. It was a clever strategy by the academy to weed out students who couldn't handle the strain—a subtle reminder that becoming a mage or martial artist demanded resilience as much as intellect.

As the paper landed on James's desk, he immediately sensed the weight of its importance. The questions were intricate, probing the very foundation of mana and its relationship to the world. The first section dealt with the basic laws of mana, asking students to define its essence and explain its role in maintaining the balance of nature. James wrote in detail, incorporating both his personal insights and what he had studied. He explained how mana was the unseen thread connecting all living things, a force that fueled life, magic, and even the environment.

The next part focused on the states of mana—how it existed in its raw form in nature, bound within living beings, and refined for magical use. James described the crystalline forms of mana stones, the swirling energy found in ley lines, and the methods by which mages harnessed this power. He noted that understanding these states was crucial for efficient spellcasting and energy conservation.

A series of questions explored the training and refinement of mana. James wrote extensively, detailing methods like meditation, controlled breathing, and mana exercises. He emphasized the importance of starting young, as the body's capacity to adapt to mana was most pliable during childhood. He even mentioned how consistent practice could lead to breakthroughs, enabling the user to tap into deeper reserves of energy.

One of the most challenging questions asked about the enlightenment process—a universal phenomenon that occurred during mid-teenage years. This marked a crucial turning point for mages, as their bodies underwent a transformation to better accommodate mana. James described it vividly, explaining how the mind and body synchronized, unlocking previously dormant potential. For some, it was a moment of clarity, while for others, it could be a chaotic surge of power.

As the paper progressed, the questions shifted to the practical application of mana. James discussed its use in daily life, from powering machinery to healing wounds and fortifying buildings. There were also queries about the ethical implications of using mana, which James answered carefully, citing examples of responsible and reckless use.

The martial arts section was equally demanding. It required students to describe basic stances, techniques, and the principles of combat that integrated mana. James explained how mana-enhanced strikes could break through defenses and how agility training was essential for evading attacks. He also highlighted the importance of mental discipline, as panic could disrupt mana flow, rendering even the most skilled fighter vulnerable.

The final questions were open-ended, asking students to propose solutions to hypothetical scenarios—how to channel mana in a mana-depleted zone or how to assist someone experiencing mana poisoning. These tested not only knowledge but also creativity and problem-solving skills.

By the time James reached the last page, his hand was beginning to cramp from writing, but his determination never wavered. He reviewed his answers meticulously, ensuring that every detail was accurate and well-articulated.

When the examiner finally called time, James placed his pen down with a mix of relief and satisfaction. This was the paper that mattered most, the one that would determine his future at the academy. As the staff collected the answer sheets, he leaned back in his chair, his body exhausted but his spirit unwavering.

Looking around, he saw a mix of reactions—some students looked defeated, their faces pale from the mental and physical strain. Others were quietly confident, while a few seemed indifferent, their expressions unreadable.

James walked out of the room with steady steps. The day had tested him, but he felt he had done his best.

Two days had passed since the written exams, and the 300 remaining candidates stood on the academy's vast training grounds, their nerves on edge. Today was the final test—a grueling physical examination designed to measure each candidate's endurance, speed, and determination. Among them was James, standing quietly as the early morning sun cast a golden hue over the field.

James couldn't help but smirk as he noticed a group of girls from the earlier exams. These were the same girls who had laughed at him, mocking his mother's overly affectionate behavior. Today, they weren't allowed inside, having failed the earlier stages. James had walked past them confidently, his calm demeanor a subtle message that the tables had turned. He relished their expressions—shock, embarrassment, and envy.

As the candidates shuffled into place, a booming voice echoed across the field.

"Congratulations!" the announcer began, his tone a mix of formality and challenge. "You've made it this far, but let me remind you—out of the 300 present here, only 100 of you will secure a spot at this academy. For every seat taken, two of you will be pushed aside. This is your final chance to prove you belong here, so don't relax just yet."

The candidates grew tense as the announcer continued.

"The task is simple. You will run on this 500-meter circular track. One of our teachers will run alongside you. If the teacher laps you twice—meaning you fall behind by one kilometer—you are immediately disqualified. We will continue until 50 of you drop out. Now, take your positions on the track!"

A tall, muscular figure stepped forward—a teacher who exuded raw power. His athletic build and confident smirk hinted at his experience. The candidates took their places, with many scrambling to claim the innermost lanes of the track, thinking it would give them an advantage. James, however, chose a spot in the middle, observing the teacher carefully.

The teacher chuckled, noticing the smirks of some overconfident students. "Don't think this is going to be easy. Try to keep up," he said, his voice calm but commanding.

The announcer began the countdown. "10... 9... 8..."

James tightened his shoelaces, focusing his mind. Around him, students whispered nervously, some already sweating in anticipation.

"...3... 2... 1... Start!"

The moment the signal was given—a crackling wave of lightning magic that jolted through the air—the teacher sprang forward like a bolt of energy.

In just five seconds, he completed the first lap, leaving the students stunned. An uproar followed as they struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

Some stood frozen, mouths agape. Others began pushing and shoving to get ahead, panic evident in their movements. A few were on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by the apparent impossibility of the task.

The teacher paused briefly after his first lap, turning to the group. "Run!" he shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos. "Don't stop now—this is only the beginning!"

The students scrambled into motion, a wave of bodies surging forward. The teacher resumed his pace, effortlessly maintaining a speed that matched the group's average, ensuring that no one would feel comfortable. His strategy was clear—he was testing their stamina, not just their speed.

James kept a steady rhythm, his breathing controlled. He avoided the inner lanes where students jostled for space, opting instead for a more strategic position. He knew this was a marathon, not a sprint.

As the race continued, the teacher completed ten laps in what seemed like no time. The candidates were visibly fatigued, their movements slowing as sweat drenched their uniforms. Despite his earlier restraint, the teacher began to pick up his pace, gradually widening the gap between himself and the lagging students.

Some candidates gave up entirely, sitting down on the track or walking off to the sidelines, their faces a mix of exhaustion and defeat. Others pushed through sheer willpower, their steps heavy but determined.

By the twelfth lap, the first wave of eliminations began. The teacher's strategy of pacing them into submission had worked. James, however, remained focused, his energy conserved and his mind clear.

The air was thick with tension, each step a battle against fatigue and self-doubt. James knew that surviving this challenge wasn't just about physical strength—it was about mental fortitude. With every lap, he reminded himself why he was here, why he couldn't afford to fail.

As the teacher picked up the pace during the final laps of the race, the eliminations became swift and merciless. Each round saw nearly ten students disqualified as they lagged behind, unable to keep up with the teacher's relentless sprinting. By the fifteenth lap, the target number of disqualifications had been reached.

James, however, remained among the fastest runners. His movements were rhythmic yet efficient, a result of years of disciplined training. While others faltered or pushed themselves to their breaking points, James maintained a steady tempo, his body moving like a well-oiled machine. For him, this moment was a culmination of all the effort he had poured into building his endurance. Today, it was paying off.

The announcer's voice boomed over the field as the exhausted candidates caught their breath. "Congratulations to those who remain! The first test is complete. For those disqualified, your journey ends here. Please exit the premises immediately."

A wave of disappointment rippled through the eliminated candidates as their names were called out. They trudged off the field, some with heads held high and others visibly broken. For the 200 who remained, there was no time to celebrate. The next challenge was already upon them.

"This round will test your upper body strength and endurance," the announcer declared. "You will perform the same push-ups as our teacher. Anyone unable to match his pace or slacking off will be disqualified."

The candidates quickly dropped into position, their bodies low to the ground. The teacher, now standing on a small stage at the front, demonstrated the posture. His movements were deliberate and precise, exuding calm authority.

"Begin!" came the signal, accompanied by another crack of lightning magic.

Contrary to the candidates' expectations, the teacher started off slow. He performed one push-up every five seconds, a pace that initially seemed manageable. Some even exchanged relieved glances, thinking this round might be easier than the last.

But as the minutes stretched on, the true challenge revealed itself. The slow and steady pace was like a creeping tide, deceptively simple but increasingly taxing. The sustained tension on their arms, shoulders, and core muscles began to build like a slow poison.

James could feel the burn in his triceps and abs, but his years of physical training had conditioned him well. He maintained his form, focusing on his breathing to keep his rhythm steady. Around him, others were beginning to struggle. Some started trembling under the strain, their arms giving out as they collapsed onto the ground.

By the time the group had completed 100 push-ups, the field had thinned dramatically. Only 200 candidates remained, their faces etched with exhaustion and determination.

The announcer stepped forward, a satisfied look on his face. "Well done. The weak have been weeded out, and only the strong remain. Take a moment to recover—your next test will begin shortly."

James sat back on his heels, wiping sweat from his brow. His body ached, but he knew the day was far from over.