Chapter 83: Welcome to the First Lesson

For most of the first-year students, nothing appeared to happen.

The Mirage Hermit stood at the center of Zenith’s orientation stage, looking over the one hundred and eighty-seven students seated before him.

Then he raised one hand.

No chant.

No formation.

No visible mana.

No warning.

The world simply disappeared.

Every first-year student went completely still.

One hundred and eighty-seven pairs of eyes remained open.

Their bodies remained upright in their seats.

Some still held notebooks.

One student had been whispering to the person beside him and froze with his mouth half-open.

Alash Vortex remained leaning comfortably with his pillow between his arms.

Yet none of them were seeing the orientation hall anymore.

The hall itself fell into immediate chaos.

"What happened?"

A professor stood sharply.

Another’s mana surged.

Three defensive formations activated simultaneously around the first-year seating area.

"Headmaster!"

"Don’t touch the students!"

"Was that an attack?"

Several senior instructors were already moving toward the stage.

Professor Darius’s hand had gone to the weapon at his waist.

Selene had raised two fingers, mana gathering around them as she examined the students.

No obvious curse.

No foreign mana contamination.

No physical injury.

Yet every first-year had stopped responding at exactly the same moment.

Theoran Vale did not move.

He slowly turned his head toward the man standing beside him.

The Mirage Hermit looked perfectly relaxed.

That answered the Headmaster’s first question.

It did not improve his mood.

"What did you do?"

The Hermit glanced toward him.

"Started."

Theoran’s expression remained controlled.

Several professors clearly lacked the same discipline.

"Started what?" Darius demanded.

The Hermit looked at him.

"The lesson."

"What lesson?"

"The first one."

Darius’s jaw tightened.

Selene stepped closer to the first row.

She waved one hand before Elizabeth Aurelius’s eyes.

No response.

The princess continued staring forward.

"Can they hear us?"

"No."

Selene looked toward the Hermit.

"Are they conscious?"

"Very."

That answer caused another wave of unease.

Theoran’s fingers tightened slightly around the head of his cane.

"You might have mentioned this yesterday."

"I did."

"You said you would tell them something."

"I am."

"That is not remotely the same thing."

The Hermit considered it.

"Close enough."

Theoran stared at him.

There were moments when being Headmaster required patience.

There were others when patience became an act of self-harm.

This was rapidly approaching the second category.

One of the professors stepped toward Alash.

"Should we remove them from..."

"No."

The Hermit’s voice was still casual.

The professor stopped anyway.

Not because the Hermit had released any pressure.

He hadn’t.

But every senior mage in the room knew who stood before them now.

The Mirage Hermit.

The only human in recorded history known to have reached an SSS-ranked core.

Most of the faculty had not even known he was inside Zenith.

Some had believed the Headmaster’s introduction was ceremonial.

Others assumed the man would arrive later.

None had expected him to appear on stage without activating a single ward.

And apparently none had expected him to place the entire first-year generation into an illusion before breakfast.

Darius folded his arms.

"This had better be safe."

The Hermit looked mildly offended.

"Of course it’s safe."

"You just took control of one hundred and eighty-seven students’ senses without warning."

"Yes."

"That does not inspire confidence."

"It should."

"Why?"

"Because if I wanted to hurt them, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Silence.

Darius opened his mouth.

Then apparently decided there was no useful response.

Theoran exhaled.

"Explain."

The Hermit looked toward the students.

For the first time since appearing, his expression became slightly more serious.

"They’re inside a shared illusion."

Selene’s eyes sharpened.

"Shared?"

"One world."

"All one hundred and eighty-seven?"

"Yes."

Several professors exchanged looks.

That alone was an absurd feat.

An individual illusion was one thing.

A shared illusion linking nearly two hundred awakened minds while maintaining independent sensory experiences for each of them was another.

The Hermit continued as though describing the weather.

"They can see each other."

"Interact?"

"Yes."

"Use magic?"

"Yes."

"Feel pain?"

"Yes."

Darius’s expression darkened.

"How much?"

"Enough."

"That isn’t an answer."

"It is the correct amount."

"Define correct."

The Hermit sighed.

"Pain will feel real enough that they react honestly. It will not damage their actual bodies."

Selene looked toward the students again.

"And if one of them dies inside?"

"They leave the illusion."

"No mental backlash?"

"Minor disorientation."

"Nothing more?"

"Unless they are particularly dramatic."

Theoran pinched the bridge of his nose.

Darius stared at him.

"You invited this man."

"I am aware."

"You searched four months for him."

"I am also aware."

"Just confirming."

The Headmaster decided not to answer.

The Hermit raised one hand again.

This time something visible happened.

Thin ripples spread through the air around the orientation hall.

Then, screens appeared.

Hundreds of them.

Professors instinctively looked upward.

Rectangular panes of translucent mana formed around the walls, above the empty seats, between the marble pillars, even across the high ceiling.

Each screen displayed a different student.

One hundred and eighty-seven students.

One hundred and eighty-seven perspectives.

Elizabeth Aurelius stood inside the remains of a ruined city.

James Vellaroux appeared inside a battered fortress.

Sophie Trohan was surrounded by an enormous fog-covered forest.

Daphne Spinster stood within a dark underground chamber.

Alash Vortex...

Darius stopped.

"Why is Vortex in an infirmary?"

The screen showed Alash standing between rows of wounded people.

Some were crying.

Others were unconscious.

Several soldiers were badly injured.

His classmates were scattered through the building.

Outside the shattered windows, distant shapes moved through smoke.

The Hermit glanced toward the screen.

"Because I put him there."

"I gathered that."

"Then why ask?"

Darius took a slow breath.

Selene turned away to hide a smile.

Theoran studied the screens instead.

The five classes had clearly been separated.

Each occupied a completely different region.

"These aren’t random environments."

"No."

"You designed them around the leaders."

"Partly."

That interested Theoran.

"Partly?"

"The other students matter too."

The Hermit walked toward the edge of the stage.

"Your new system is built around classes, isn’t it?"

"Yes."

"Then testing only the five children would be stupid."

Darius looked toward Theoran.

"He called your system stupid."

"He said testing only five students would be stupid."

"Close enough."

Theoran ignored him.

On the screens, the first-years were beginning to move.

Confusion spread rapidly.

Students shouted.

Some immediately tried to cast spells.

Others searched their surroundings.

A few attempted to open storage rings.

That was when the first problem appeared.

Nothing came out.

A message materialized simultaneously in front of every student.

The professors could see it through the screens.

---

ZENITH FIRST-YEAR SPECIAL EXAMINATION

All participants have been placed within a shared simulated environment.

Your physical bodies remain safe inside Zenith Academy.

All sensations and events within the examination should be treated as real.

---

That relieved several professors.

Darius glanced at the Hermit.

"You’re telling them it’s an illusion?"

"They’re students, not prisoners."

"Then why make pain realistic?"

"Because people make different decisions when failure hurts."

Darius couldn’t immediately argue with that.

More text appeared.

---

EXAMINATION RULES

1. Every class must reach the central Citadel before dawn.

2. Eight hours remain until dawn.

3. Any student who suffers fatal damage will be immediately removed from the examination.

4. Removed students cannot return.

5. Your class ranking will be influenced by your performance.

6. Cooperation, combat, judgment, resource use, leadership and survival may all affect evaluation.

---

Whispers broke out among the professors.

"May?"

Darius looked toward the Hermit.

"You deliberately made the criteria vague."

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because explaining exactly what you are measuring changes what you’re measuring."

Theoran’s eyes remained on the screens.

That, at least, he agreed with.

If students knew that helping civilians awarded fifteen points, then helping civilians ceased to reveal much about character.

If they knew resource conservation mattered more than speed, they would conserve resources because a rule told them to.

Ambiguity forced judgment.

A final set of rules appeared.

---

7. Participants may use their full personal abilities.

8. Skills, spells, attributes, titles and natural combat capabilities are unrestricted.

9. All external artifacts and stored equipment have been restricted.

10. Equipment obtained inside the examination may be used normally.

---

That caused immediate reactions.

Across the screens, students checked weapons.

Storage rings.

Protective amulets.

Potions.

Accessories.

Personal artifacts refused to respond.

Some vanished entirely from perception.

Others remained visible but inert.

James Vellaroux reached toward his storage ring.

Nothing.

Elizabeth tested a bracelet.

No response.

Daphne touched a dark ring on one finger.

Its mana had been completely suppressed.

Sophie looked at an empty sheath where a personal weapon had apparently failed to manifest.

The point was obvious.

No family resources.

No expensive equipment.

No powerful heirlooms.

For this examination, everyone entered with what belonged to them personally.

Their own mana.

Their own attributes.

Their own judgment.

Their own training.

Selene nodded slightly.

"Good."

Darius looked at her.

"You approve?"

"Very much."

Several other professors did too.

Zenith had students whose families could provide artifacts worth more than entire villages.

An examination that allowed unrestricted personal equipment would test wealth almost as much as ability.

Then Professor Selene stopped.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Wait."

Theoran followed her gaze.

One screen displayed Class Five.

More specifically,

Alash Vortex.

The silver-haired boy stood in the infirmary.

And beneath his arm...was a pillow.

Dream Haven.

The same pillow he had carried into orientation.

The same pillow currently resting between his arms inside the hall.

Except,

It was also inside the illusion.

Darius frowned.

"I thought all artifacts were restricted."

"They are."

The Hermit’s reply came immediately.

Then he looked toward Alash’s screen.

His expression changed.

Only slightly.

But Theoran noticed.

The Hermit took one step closer.

Alash was still holding the pillow.

Not an illusionary replacement.

The illusion had recreated every participant according to the Hermit’s restrictions.

Uniform.

Body.

Personal mana.

Nothing else.

Weapons considered external artifacts were removed.

Storage artifacts were inaccessible.

Protective equipment was gone.

Yet the pillow remained.

The Hermit stared.

"Hm."

Darius looked toward him.

"’Hm’?"

The Hermit didn’t answer.

He lifted one finger.

The image surrounding Alash changed slightly.

A series of translucent patterns appeared over the screen as the Hermit examined the rules governing the illusion.

Artifact restriction.

Active.

Storage restriction.

Active.

External mana-item restriction.

Active.

Everything functioned correctly.

The pillow remained.

Selene looked intrigued.

"So?"

The Hermit narrowed his eyes.

Then the smallest trace of surprise appeared on his face.

"It isn’t being recognized as an artifact."

Theoran looked toward the real Alash.

The boy’s physical body still sat comfortably in his seat.

Dream Haven between his arms.

No mana signature.

No recognizable enchantment.

Nothing unusual.

Exactly as every previous examination had indicated.

Darius stared.

"You’re telling me he really brought an ordinary pillow into the examination?"

"It appears so."

Silence.

Several professors looked toward Alash’s screen.

Then toward his physical body.

Then back at the screen.

A senior professor spoke slowly.

"He carries it around every day."

"Apparently," Selene said.

"To work."

"Apparently."

"To orientation."

"Clearly."

Darius stared at the screen.

Alash had now placed the pillow against the wall while examining one of the injured civilians.

"He had a storage ring."

"Yes."

"He could have stored it."

"Yes."

"He chose to carry it."

"Yes."

Darius looked deeply disturbed by this information.

"I don’t understand."

The Hermit continued studying the pillow.

He had expected the illusion to strip every external artifact automatically.

Instead, whatever condition defined the pillow registered it as mundane enough to remain.

No artifact classification.

No detectable enchantment.

Nothing.

The Hermit finally lowered his hand.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Yet even he could find nothing else.

As far as the illusion was concerned, it was a pillow.

He looked toward Alash’s physical body.

Then back at the screen.

The corner of his mouth moved.

"Let him keep it."

Darius stared.

"Why?"

"It’s a pillow."

"That’s precisely why I’m asking."

"He appears emotionally dependent on it."

Theoran almost smiled.

Almost.

Selene did not bother hiding hers.

On the screen, Alash had already started checking patients.

His classmates remained confused.

Penelope Declair was attempting to organize them.

The pillow rested safely against the wall.

The Hermit turned away.

"If anything, removing it might make the examination less fair."

"To whom?" Darius asked.

"Everyone near him."

Darius looked even more confused.

Theoran decided that particular discussion had reached its useful limit.

"What aren’t you telling the students?"

The Hermit looked toward him.

"A great deal."

"Regarding the examination."

"Still a great deal."

Theoran’s gaze hardened.

"Relevant details."

The Hermit sighed.

Then motioned toward the central screen.

A map of the illusionary kingdom appeared.

Five regions.

Five starting locations.

One enormous fortress at the center.

The Citadel.

"Their current objective is simple," the Hermit said. "Reach the Citadel before dawn."

"And the actual objective?"

"Learn."

"That isn’t what I meant."

"I know."

Darius folded his arms again.

"What happens at dawn?"

"Something unpleasant."

"Monsters?"

"Many."

"How many?"

"Enough."

Darius looked toward Theoran.

"Does he ever provide numbers?"

"Rarely."

"Terrible teaching habit."

The Hermit ignored them.

"There are five classes."

Five regions on the map brightened.

"Each started with different resources."

The ruined capital glowed.

"Class One has transportation, food and civilian infrastructure."

The fortress.

"Class Two has weapons and defensive equipment."

The forest.

"Class Three has access to information and navigation."

The underground temple.

"Class Four has mana resources."

Finally the infirmary.

"Class Five has medicine, healers and wounded people."

Selene immediately understood.

"They need each other."

"Eventually."

"And they don’t know that yet."

"No."

Theoran studied the map.

"How soon will they discover it?"

"Depends whether they’re clever."

"You’re enjoying this."

"A little."

Another message appeared inside the hall only.

---

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

The Citadel gates are sealed.

Five Guardian Seals exist within the examination world.

All five are required to open the Citadel.

Each class is responsible for one Guardian Seal.

---

The orientation hall became silent.

Even the professors understood the implication immediately.

No class could win alone.

One class could move faster.

Fight better.

Gather more resources.

Reach the Citadel first.

None of it mattered if the other four failed completely.

Theoran slowly nodded.

Competition.

Cooperation.

Dependency.

Exactly what the new class structure had been intended to teach.

Perhaps inviting the Hermit had not been a mistake.

Then Darius spoke.

"Can they attack each other?"

Theoran looked at him.

Selene closed her eyes.

The Hermit answered calmly.

"Yes."

Darius smiled.

Theoran’s optimism weakened.

"But," the Hermit added, "eliminating another class would make opening the Citadel considerably more difficult."

Darius’s smile widened.

"So betrayal is technically permitted."

Theoran stared at him.

"Do not encourage them."

"They can’t hear me."

"That was not the point."

Across the screens, students were beginning to react.

Elizabeth Aurelius had already gathered several classmates around her.

James Vellaroux was moving toward the fortress wall.

Sophie Trohan was studying the fog.

Daphne Spinster had begun testing the weight of nearby mana crystals.

And Alash Vortex, was examining an injured civilian while Penelope Declair shouted instructions behind him.

The Hermit watched all five.

There was no amusement in his expression now.

Only attention.

This was why he had come.

Not to hear what the reports said they were.

Not to watch controlled demonstrations of SSS talent.

Not to listen to teenagers describe their ambitions.

He wanted decisions.

Unexpected ones.

Poor ones.

Good ones.

The choices they made when their strength did not automatically provide an answer.

Theoran stood beside him.

"How long does this last?"

"Eight hours."

The Headmaster turned toward the nearly two hundred screens surrounding the hall.

One hundred and eighty-seven students.

Five newly formed classes.

Five fifteen-year-old leaders.

No artifacts.

No families.

No professors beside them.

No prepared answers.

Only an unfamiliar world, limited resources, approaching danger, and people they had met less than a day earlier.

The Mirage Hermit folded his arms.

"Now..."

On the screens, the first monsters began appearing.

"...we see what they actually learned before coming to Zenith."