Then Archery is my path

I landed on the ground, only to realize that the instructor was still relentlessly pursuing me.

The armor covering his arm was significantly larger than mine, adorned with various adjacent elements that enhanced its complexity and resilience.

Most likely, he's a tank, I thought as I quickly assessed the situation.

Breaking the silence, the instructor asked me,

"Which organization do you belong to?"

"None," I replied. "I'm an orphan. A war veteran adopted and trained me."

He raised an eyebrow at my response before continuing,

"Then why do you have such a low number? With your skills, you should easily be in the top 300—500 at worst."

"I have a low ejection fraction," I admitted, "and I submitted my documents without any recommendations."

"Ah, that explains it," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Come with me. In your case, we need to run some tests so you don't encounter problems when the commission convenes."

Without further explanation, he turned and began walking toward an exit. Following him, we entered an elevator, which took us to the surface. For the first time in what felt like ages, I was bathed in sunlight—though it was already setting on the horizon.

"Where are we going?" I asked, the instructor's unusually considerate actions piquing my curiosity.

"To the academy's medical center," he replied curtly.

"For what?"

"You need to be tested to ensure you haven't used any stimulants."

His response made me tense slightly.

"Do you think I'm under the influence of some kind of drug?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

He didn't seem bothered by my reaction.

"I don't know," he said plainly, "but this is also for your own benefit. Without this clearance, your chances of being admitted are slim to none."

"Does the number on those plates really hold that much weight?"

"Yes, it does. In all my years of teaching here, I can't recall a single case of someone with a number above 700 being admitted."

His words stung, though they confirmed a harsh truth I already knew. 

In our world, the most talented individuals are nurtured under powerful organizations. The odds of someone without connections but with raw talent making it this far are almost nonexistent.

We arrived at the medical center, a three-story building that resembled a hospital more than a standard academy infirmary.

Walking through the central doors, we entered a wide hallway. It wasn't overly crowded, but I noticed students in academy uniforms from different years moving about. Mixed in were people of various ages, from children to adults, all with a sense of purpose in their movements.

The instructor ignored everyone and headed straight for the stairs. Curious about the diverse crowd, I decided to ask,

"I understand why the students are here, but who are all these other people?"

"Family members of academy staff can access medical services here for free," the instructor explained as we walked. "Students' families can also use these services, though most of the people who can afford to study here usually have no trouble securing high-quality healthcare elsewhere."

We climbed to the third floor, and the instructor approached the first door to the right of the stairs.

Knock, knock.

"Come in," a voice called from inside.

The instructor pushed the door open and stepped in.

"Linda, are you free?"

Inside the medical office sat a woman with long black hair and hazel eyes, wearing glasses and a white medical gown. She looked up from her work, her expression shifting to annoyance.

"What do you need, Ron?" she asked flatly.

"There's a boy here who needs to be tested for stimulants," he replied casually.

Her irritation flared.

"You're making trouble again. What rank did you choose this year? Don't tell me it's above 700."

"954," he replied, his tone as unaffected as before.

"Haaaaa?!" she exclaimed, her frustration now audible. "Are you completely insane? They're going to kick you out, and yet you keep provoking them!"

Her outburst didn't seem to faze him in the slightest.

"So, can you do the tests?" he asked, as though her words had been mere background noise.

Linda shot him a fiery glare, the tension between them so intense it felt like a spark could ignite a literal fire at any moment.

Finally, she sighed in defeat.

"Ahhh, fine. Let's go," she said, rising from her chair.

She walked out of the office, and Mr. Ronald closed the door behind her.

"Good evening," I greeted her, trying to lighten the mood.

Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, her expression softening slightly from the frustration she'd just directed at the instructor.

"Greetings," she said. "As you've likely figured out, I'll be running a series of tests on you. Let's head to the laboratory."

"Okay," I replied simply.

We moved toward the left wing of the floor, which ended at a secure door. Linda retrieved a small chip from her pocket to unlock it, then pushed the door open. She gestured for me to step inside, but as Mr. Ronald tried to follow, her voice turned sharp once again.

"You stay here," she snapped.

The door shut behind us, leaving me alone with Linda. I glanced around, taking in the laboratory's sleek, modern design. The room was filled with state-of-the-art medical equipment, with a large capsule-like device dominating the center.

"Is this your personal laboratory?" I asked, impressed by the advanced technology surrounding us.

Linda gave a small nod.

"Yes, though I doubt you'll get to see much of it. Just focus on the tests for now."

"Yes, mostly, but sometimes other doctors use the lab when necessary," Linda replied, her tone softening as she prepared her tools. "Now, lift your sleeve; I'll take your blood."

I complied, rolling up my sleeve. With a smooth, quick motion, she drew venous blood.

"Sorry for the discomfort," I said, despite not feeling much at all.

"It's normal. There's no fault of yours here—just the heroism in excess from that fool outside," she remarked, clearly referring to Mr. Ronald.

"I thought passing all the tests would be enough, but from what I've seen, the situation seems more complicated," I admitted.

Linda let out a small, dry laugh.

"Mostly, this entire exam is a farce. The results are already decided the moment you receive your plate. If you got a number under 600, congratulations—you're a student of Altgard Academy."

"Then I've failed," I said flatly.

"If this were a standard case, yes. But, in a way, you're lucky to have Ron as your examiner. If it had been anyone else, your chance of becoming a student would be less than 1%."

I raised an eyebrow. "And now?"

"50%," she replied, glancing at me as if gauging my reaction. "Even though you've shown you deserve to be here, everything will still depend on the decision at the meeting. Last year, there was also a student with a plate number above 600 who made it in."

"And what happened to him?"

"After one semester, he transferred to another institution," she said plainly.

"Because of discrimination?"

"He couldn't adapt. Maybe that will be your situation too. Don't take it the wrong way, but this academy demands an immense amount of talent. Sure, that can be offset with preparation, natural treasures, or access to rooms rich in aether—but those are resources provided by clans or guilds. Judging by your plate number, that doesn't seem to be your case."

Her tone wasn't harsh or condescending; it carried a genuine note of concern, as though she wanted to prepare me for the worst.

I let out a short, provocative smile. "I assure you, my situation is a little different."

Her eyes flickered with surprise, followed by a small smile of her own.

"Wow, you're confident. That's not bad. Just don't forget my words—because I assure you, a time will come when you'll face the weight of what I've said."

The tests continued. She checked my aether levels, among other things, and even complimented me on the purity of my aether.

"All done," she finally said, stepping back. "You're free to go. You'll receive a message when the results of the meeting are in. Good luck, regardless."

"Thank you," I replied sincerely.

Leaving the lab alone—Linda stayed behind to finish logging the results—I found Mr. Ronald waiting in the same spot where we had left him.

"Are you done?" he asked, standing casually with his arms crossed.

"Yes."

"Great. I'll lead you to the exit of the academy," he said, motioning for me to follow.

We continued on our way to the metro.

"Why are you doing this?"

"What exactly?"

"Give me a chance."

"From Mrs. Linda's words, only because of you, I can get into the academy."

He gave me a quick look, but it soon returned to his usual expression.

"Because you deserved it."

"And that's it?"

"That's more than enough. This is a wonderful academy if you have the skills to withstand its curriculum. You showed me these skills, which were far better than someone ranked in the 600s, but the chance of you even competing with them is miserable because there is no such thing as a competition for entry."

"You won't have problems because of this?"

"This is not something you need to relive. Train and progress—this is what you need to focus on."

"Thank you."

"Nothing has been decided yet. If you do enter, then please me with the work you will do."

August 26, 3108

In a room, there were 21 people seated at a round table, and a hologram was projected in the middle of it.

A gentleman with a beard and white hair, already quite old, was sitting in a chair slightly higher than all the others. He said:

"Let's start the conference for the admission committee of the year 3108."

Immediately, the hologram changed, displaying images of the people who had attempted to pass the entrance exam.

"We offer the word to the head of the ManaDomain faculty."

A gentleman on the right, with black hair streaked with white, stood up and said:

"For the Faculty of ManaDomain, 834 people applied. 587 passed all phases of the exam. Among the remarkable candidates, I can mention the ones ranked 1, 2, and 11. The first place is a descendant of the Blizzard Veil clan, and the second place is from a guild based on element control. But I consider the most remarkable to be the candidate in 11th place. This one has an ejection fraction of 100%, and phenomenal control over both the wind and water elements. I personally was her examiner in the last stage. For this reason, I believe she deserves to be raised from the preliminary rank of 11 to 1."

"The Faculty of ManaDomain, as always, is excellent in nurturing its talents. We congratulate you on such phenomenal students."

The entire room erupted into applause, acknowledging the remarkable results presented.

"Now, we offer the word to the Head of the ManaArmis faculty."

A lady with long red-brown hair tied in a ponytail stood up. She appeared to be in her 30s, but it was clear she was older than that.

"1123 people were registered who applied for admission, but after examination, only 439 remained. This year we have 4 people from major clans and 10 from outstanding guilds."

After this speech, the audience did not remain as positive or supportive.

"Can you please explain how it happened that out of 1123 applicants, only 439 remained?"

"They did not present the necessary level of skills to be considered students in our faculty."

"And anyway, I ask you to increase the number of people supported up to 600, including those whose preventive rank shows the presence of these capabilities."

After these words, the gentleman in the middle tapped the screen on his table, and the number of people increased to 601 with the change in their preventive ranks.

"You included a person who wasn't even in the top 600, and yet you still didn't admit the 600th candidats?"

He moved to the end of the list, where everyone noticed the student ranked 601st with a preventive rank of 954.

"I hope this is just a system error."

Then, Mr. Ronald got up from his chair next to the lady, who remained standing.

"No, sir, I was in charge of examining this student, and I assure you he had enough skills to be admitted to the academy."

"We already had this discussion about such a situation, I hope you remember."

"Yes, sir."

"Then you understand what situation you're in."

"Yes, sir."

"Great. Then I declare today's conference over. Thank you, everyone, for your effort."