Half an hour later...
Aside from me, Hill, Yuyi Mengliu, and Di Yue’er, everyone else had finished, the field clearing like a receding tide.
Most scored Good, a steady gray band; five hit Excellent, bright sparks; ten fell to Average or Poor, stones sinking in a stream.
“Alright, the magic test’s almost over,” Stellar Rosa pressed her brow like a willow leaf. “So many of you landed in Average or Poor—you’ve been lazy.”
“Looks like tomorrow’s PE means special training,” she added, voice like iron cooling in dawn mist.
“What?!” The protest burst like startled sparrows.
“No, please! That devil teacher’s drills are terrifying,” a chorus fluttered like leaves in a sudden wind.
“Please, Stellar Rosa, spare us! We won’t slack again!” Faces drooped like wilted cabbage.
“Hmph. No way,” she cut like a blade against bamboo. “Keep this up and we’ll lose ‘Most Excellent Class.’ So wait for the storm—and train.”
“Uuuh, why like this…” Their voices faded like rain into soil.
This time, Stellar Rosa ignored their wailing and turned to Di Yue’er, her gaze calm as a full moon. “Di Yue’er, it’s your turn. I’m looking forward to it.”
“No problem. Leave it to me.” She shot me a look, sharp as a cat’s flicking tail, then stepped forward.
“You know the drill, right?” Stellar Rosa pointed toward the boulders and the distant targets, crouching stone beasts and pale discs under the sky.
“Of course.”
Di Yue’er fixed on the largest boulder. A black-violet dagger bloomed in her delicate hand, its edge shedding a chill like midnight dew.
“Deathblow!”
The dagger unraveled into black mist, a shadow ribbon, then vanished, circling the boulder like a hunting hawk before returning to her palm.
The boulder—
Crack, crack, crack—boom!
Like shattered glass falling in a frost gust, the stone split fast, then collapsed into a spill of rubble.
“Hiss!” The gasp cut the air like a knife; students stared at Di Yue’er with eyes round as lanterns.
Even Stellar Rosa drifted for a heartbeat, her focus snatched like silk in wind.
“Ahem.” She coughed, bringing the crowd back like a bell at dawn. “As expected of a born magic genius of the Elven Kind—” her voice rang clear, “that strike reached high-tier Sacred Realm.”
“What? High-tier Sacred Realm?!”
“Heavens, that’s insane! We got someone this strong in our class?”
“Right?!”
Shock spread like wildfire through dry grass.
“What’s the fuss? It’s just high-tier Sacred Realm,” Hill muttered, flat as a stone under rain.
“Heh. Few students hit Sacred Realm at all,” Eastern Moon Aixue smiled, helpless as a mother crane watching chicks.
“From her life pulse, Di Yue’er’s at least two hundred,” Hill said, eyes cool as slate. “Does that still count as student?”
“Hill, what right do you have to talk?” Xinuo pinched Hill’s soft cheek, silk-smooth yet stern. “You’re over a hundred too. Elven Kind don’t match Dragon Kin lifespans, but they only come of age at five hundred. Two hundred’s like a human fifteen or sixteen—still a student.”
“Oh! And the small one?” Hill leaned in, curiosity bright as stars. “That equals how old in human years?”
“Dragon Kin come of age at a thousand. Hill, you’re a hundred fifty,” Xinuo folded her arms, thinking, then spoke like water pouring. “That’s about human four or five—squarely little girl.”
“True, Hill’s still in the little-girl stage.” I nodded, feeling it like spring light; she’s always clinging and pouncing, just like a child at play.
“Hehe, because I’m still a young dragon!” Hill hugged my right arm, joy bubbling like a stream.
And truly, as she said, she’s a hatchling among Dragon Kin, a newborn flicker of flame.
“Then, Xinuo Miss, how long do Dragon Kin live?” Faya finally couldn’t hold it, her question rising like smoke.
“It depends on strength,” Xinuo said, calm as moonlit water. “The stronger, the longer. Generally two to thirty thousand years. A Dragon God should reach fifty thousand.”
“Oh! You know that so clearly, Xiao Nuo—then your age is—ah! Ow!!” I hadn’t finished when Xinuo’s fingers pinched my cheeks hard, heat swelling like embers.
“Servant, in this world, some things are better left unasked.” Her smile was a flawless blossom; her silver-white eyes held no laughter, cold as winter moonlight.
“Got it! I understand!!” Panic pricked first, then my head bobbed like a pecking sparrow. Her beauty lured like nectar, but—
Cold sweat beaded like dew on my back; the air around me dropped like evening frost.
“Servant, mind yourself from now on. Otherwise—you know.”
Her smile deepened like a lake; my sweat flowed like a river.
“Yes, yes! Of course!” Nerves thrummed like taut strings; all I could do was nod.
“Good.”
She let go, her touch lifting like mist off water.
“Phew—” I rubbed my reddened cheeks, relief spilling like warm tea in my chest.
“Boss, how pitiful!” Hill dove into my arms, her pity wide-eyed, soft as a kitten.
“Mmh, I got healed without noticing.” I stroked her silver hair, smooth as night snow, a quiet warmth opening like dawn.
…
On the training ground.
“Next is shooting those targets, right?” Di Yue’er asked Stellar Rosa, then turned to face the row a hundred meters away, pale coins under the sky.
“Curse Thorn!”
A black-red sphere flared half a meter before her, coals glowing; sharp needles sprouted from it like thorns after rain.
“Go!”
At her word, every needle burst free, slicing the wind like swallows, streaking for the target line.
Thud! Thud! Thud! …
Every needle nailed the bull’s-eye, neat as a calligrapher’s dots. Not one missed.
“Mm. Accuracy and hit rate at Sacred Realm as well. Very good,” Stellar Rosa said, pen dancing like a reed across her board.
After several more trials, Di Yue’er’s testing ended. Her score, of course, was Excellent, bright as a full moon seal.
If Excellent weren’t the highest, she’d rank higher still; her strength had already stepped beyond the usual student’s horizon.
