Five minutes later.

“Xinuo Miss, Amemiya, and Hill, this is the D-Zone training ground,” Stellar Rosa said, her voice crisp as morning bells.

We stepped into a vast expanse, the wall ahead bearing a bold D-Zone like iron brands under a pale sky.

To the east, five hundred meters out, a circular arena loomed like a full moon; near us, boulders rose like gray cliffs.

At the far end, rows of targets stood in a line, quiet as scarecrows watching a windless field.

Awe first, then thought—Egisia Academy really goes big; this place sprawled like a small city under open sky.

A colossal alchemical array encircled the grounds like a coiled dragon, runes pulsing like heartbeats in a tide of power.

From those sigils, energy rippled like surf, the mark of a Sacred Realm-tier array gripping the field.

“Egisia Academy is loaded,” I thought, admiration bright as torchlight, “a Sacred Realm array could buy a small kingdom.”

“Alright, get ready. The test starts now,” Stellar Rosa clapped, her clipboard snapping like wings.

The students of Class 3-A fell into neat lines, bodies straight as reeds in a disciplined breeze; we joined them.

“Amemiya, Xinuo Miss, Hill—if you aren’t mages, you may skip this test,” Stellar Rosa said, calm as a clear lake.

“No need. Let Servant try, and Hill’s been bored—so we’re in,” Xinuo Miss answered, her tone light as drifting leaves.

“Yep! I wanna play!” Hill bounced, eyes bright like twin stars on a winter night.

“I’m in as well,” I said, nerves humming like taut strings ready to sing.

“Good. I’ll be expecting your performance,” Stellar Rosa smiled, warmth like sunlight through thin clouds, and stepped back to her spot.

“The test begins now,” she announced, voice steady as a drumbeat, then looked to Eastern Moon Aixue.

“Eastern Moon, you first.”

“Yes,” Eastern Moon Aixue replied, stride firm as a hawk’s shadow crossing stone.

“We’ll start with attack power. Go all out on that rock,” she said, pointing at a boulder ten meters to her right.

“No problem,” Eastern Moon answered, and from her space ring drew a wand that gleamed like lacquered dusk.

“Scorching fire, heed my command, condense as stone—” her chant rose, hot as a kiln at mid-burn.

Above the boulder, a flaming magic circle flared like a red sun blooming behind smoke.

“Fall, Meteoric Firefall!” She slashed the wand downward, and the circle rotated like a grinding wheel in the sky.

Meteors wrapped in flame burst from the center, dropping fast like sparks off a forge toward the boulder.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Explosions hammered the ground, shockwaves rolling like thunder across a valley.

Ten seconds later, the last meteor slammed down; the circle thinned like ash and vanished into the air.

The boulder stood, scarred but not broken, only a few deep cracks running like dried riverbeds.

“Mm, SSS high-tier attack power. Nice work; you’ve put in effort,” Stellar Rosa said, approval warm as tea on a cold day.

“Next, accuracy and hit rate. Attack those targets at one hundred meters,” she added, pointing to the line like a ruler’s edge.

“Got it.” Eastern Moon turned, calm as a breeze at dawn, and raised her wand toward the distant row.

“Ethereal wind, become arrows, pierce all—” she intoned, voice soft as silk sliding over wood.

A green glow unfurled before her, carrying a tender wind like breath over grass in spring.

When the light faded, dozens of arrows wrapped in wind floated into being, tips aligned like swallows poised to fly.

“Go, Storm Arrow Rain!” Her call snapped like a bowstring, and the arrows shot forward, slicing air like falcons.

Pa! Pa! Pa! Impacts peppered the targets, a drumline of precision ticking through three heartbeats.

Every arrow hit; every bullseye bloomed like red flowers opening in perfect symmetry.

“Excellent. Accuracy and hit rate at the SSS pinnacle,” Stellar Rosa said, pen scratching the clipboard like fine strokes on parchment.

“Next test is…” Her voice trailed like smoke as minutes passed, steady as a metronome.

After three minutes, Eastern Moon’s test ended, her final rating stamped as Excellent, clear as a seal in wax.

Ratings ranged from Excellent, Good, Average, to Poor, a ladder like steps carved into stone.

“Eastern Moon, you’re free to move,” Stellar Rosa said, casual as shade under a tree.

“Understood,” Eastern Moon replied, returning to us with quiet steps like ripples fading.

“Next up, Faya. Please step forward,” Stellar Rosa beckoned, her hand light as a leaf’s wave.

“Okay! See you in a bit,” Faya smiled to us, cheer bright as morning dew.

“As usual, repair that stone, Faya,” Stellar Rosa said, pointing to the cracked boulder like a surgeon to a patient.

“Mhm.” Faya turned, and drew a silver-white wand that radiated a gentle aura like warm milk light.

“Gentle light, heal the wounded children, grant them sound bodies—Holy Light Heal!” Her voice rang, steady as a bell at vespers.

A magic circle bloomed under her feet, ivory glow spreading like dawn on snow.

Under that soft radiance, her white uniform looked sacred and solemn, a statue come alive in a cathedral’s nave.

The boulder’s cracks knit rapidly, closing like wounds under salve, stone sighing back to wholeness.

Curiosity tugged first, a small animal at the heart; I leaned toward Xinuo Miss and whispered, “Is Faya a priest?”

“Not exactly. She’s a Holy Light mage, likely an SS pinnacle Magister,” Xinuo Miss said, calm as a pond at dusk.

“There’s a difference?” I asked, question hovering like mist over water.

“Of course. Priests heal but don’t attack; Holy Light mages heal and strike hard,” she answered, crisp as a blade’s line.

“Oh, got it.” Understanding settled like a lantern’s glow, and I kept watching the test unfold.

“Very good. Your healing has reached SSS, though it’s at the basic stage,” Stellar Rosa said, satisfaction soft as a smile.

“Now we test attack power and hit rate. Try that stone over there,” she pointed to one fifty meters away like a distant marker.

“No problem,” Faya said, lifting her wand, resolve bright as a star on a clear night.

“Sacred light, become a spear, strike the foe—Lance of Radiance!” Her chant rose, sharp as a trumpet’s call.

A spear of pure light formed by her right hand, gleam clean as ice in sun.

“Go!” She flicked her wand forward, a gesture swift as a swallow’s flight.

Whoosh!! The spear vanished like lightning, then reappeared buried in the boulder, splitting it cleanly like an axe through wood.

Not gone—just too fast to see, speed burning like a white streak across vision.

“That’s light magic—swift and fierce. That hit reached SSS high-tier attack power,” Stellar Rosa said, pen moving like a reed in wind.

“Next is—” her voice flowed on, minutes passing like a slow stream.

Faya’s test ended soon after; her rating matched Eastern Moon’s—Excellent, bright as twin stars.