Episode 23. The Scala Exam
Angelo Yulio.
An Archmage who had reached the 5th Tier at the age of fifty-five.
A saint of the streets who spent his entire life as a wandering mercenary mage, hunting monsters without reward.
A fighter who humbled even the most combative warrior. A colossus who looked down upon the world. A living legend among mages.
And yet, that very man was now breaking into a cold sweat, hanging his head low.
The position of Headmaster of Elfenbain was by no means light, even when compared to the kings of minor kingdoms.
Moreover, Headmaster Yulio was counted among the finest on the continent in terms of personal might.
So who could possibly be the one capable of making such a man falter?
“What on earth is going on, Headmaster?”
She was Rhodes Elfenbain, the Tower Master, reclining on a soft cushion and twirling her finger at the Headmaster of Elfenbain.
“W-Well, you see… it’s just…”
“There was a commotion within the academy.”
“The main figures were the tournament’s winner and runner-up, correct?”
“Both were students whom the Headmaster personally guided, were they not?”
“Yes…”
This was the terrifying aspect of the Tower Master.
She was an ethereal being, detached from worldly matters, like a spirit.
In the Magic Tower, the Tower Master was a symbolic figure revered by all.
And fittingly so, she rarely involved herself in the tower’s affairs.
Some professors even wondered if the Tower Master truly existed.
But speaking with her revealed that she had eyes and ears planted everywhere within the tower.
At least within these walls, there was nothing she did not know.
“And I hear you were present at the scene of the commotion yourself.”
“All of that is correct, however…”
“However?”
“The situation was so chaotic that I failed to stop them in time. My apologies.”
Her pink veil fluttered slightly.
‘Did she just laugh?’
“You were in a chaotic situation. So, was the matter concerning the beloved princess handled well?”
Headmaster Yulio swallowed dryly.
He was a headmaster who always found himself at the mercy of her manner of asking while feigning ignorance despite knowing everything.
“I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. My apologies.”
“Since when were the academy regulations—which prohibit students from fighting on campus—placed under the Headmaster’s personal discretion?”
“…I have nothing to say for myself.”
“So in the end, all three students who caused the problem were under your guidance.”
Headmaster Yulio had no response.
She was not one to meddle easily in the tower’s affairs, but neither was she a master who neglected all matters.
Truthfully, Headmaster Yulio had overstepped this time.
It had been a mistake to hurriedly insert Rike into the selection list due to news from the Empire.
If he had thought it through calmly, he could have found a better way.
Headmaster Yulio could not predict what reaction she would show. Would the Tower Master hand down a punishment?
Just as he resolved himself to accept even a salary cut, the Tower Master spoke.
“We must punish the students who caused the incident on campus.”
“Yes? No, the students? No, the students are not at fault. The blame lies with me for failing to prevent it. Lady Elfenbain, I would rather you punish me instead.”
“Why? It was the students who caused the problem, so it should be the students who receive the punishment. Surely the Headmaster is not about to confess that this uproar occurred at your direct instigation?”
Headmaster Yulio had never given such an order.
And even if he answered affirmatively, the Tower Master would not have believed him.
“My punishment is as follows. Friederike Albrecht, Binaeril Dalheim, and Sylvia. These three students shall share their fate in the Scala Exam.”
“What do you mean by sharing their fate…?”
“If even one of the three fails the Scala Exam, all three shall be eliminated. Since the two of them acted for the sake of the Imperial Princess, it is only right that the Princess share in this responsibility as well, is it not?”
At this unexpected punishment, Headmaster Yulio’s mind briefly went blank.
While he stood there dumbfounded, the Tower Master asked,
“Why, is the punishment insufficient?”
“No, not at all. It shall be done. I will deliver the news to the parties involved.”
Headmaster Yulio bowed his head deeply.
For a violation of school regulations, it was an absurdly light punishment.
‘Why in the world, Lady Elfenbain?’
It was an incomprehensible punishment, but for him, it was something to be profoundly grateful for.
“Thank you, Lady Elfenbain.”
“What thanks? I have just handed down a punishment. Now, you may go.”
Her expression was difficult to read behind the veil.
However, based on his long experience, Headmaster Yulio surmised that she was not in a bad mood.
Until right before the Scala Exam, Binaeril and his friends had little to do.
They focused only on the special lessons they attended each week and their personal training.
Because the process and contents of the Scala Exam had never been revealed anywhere.
Thinking about it, it was only natural. After all, Scala was Elfenbain’s final gateway.
Whether one passed through this gate or not determined if they became a formal mage or remained an aspirant.
The exam participants made an oath (Gyas) that they would not reveal the contents of Scala even if they failed.
The oaths of mages were different from simple promises.
Mages were beings who wielded power through language. A linguistic oath bound by mana held absolute binding force.
‘Wait, then how did Professor Freud teach the students about Scala’s contents?’
Gathering with the other participants right before the exam to make the oath, Binaeril was suddenly struck by a question.
—An oath is absolute, but it strictly adheres to its conditions. Professor Freud twisted the oath’s contents by using ambiguous words.
Veritas answered Binaeril’s question.
‘I see.’
—If you ever have to make an oath, be careful. Making an oath with vague words is worse than not making one at all. You must never take an oath lightly.
Not only in Elfenbain but even among those who knew the slightest bit of magic, stories of mages who had made flawed oaths were well known.
A mage who suffered eternal agony without being able to die, a mage who became a living corpse, a mage who lost all their mana for a nonsensical reason, and so on.
Mages’ oaths appeared frequently in popular romance novels, but in truth, wise mages rarely made oaths themselves.
‘What would something like that have to do with me?’
—You never know.
“All students selected for Scala, please read the preceding text and make the oath.”
The students swore in unison.
“As the master of infinite imagination……”
The contents of the oath were extremely long.
Every possible loophole for disclosure was examined, and lengthy clauses were attached to prevent unforeseen restrictions.
Having read the given oath for about three minutes, Binaeril thought once again that Professor Freud was truly amazing for having twisted and loosened such an oath.
“…I shall make this oath, engraved upon my soul.”
When the long oath was finished, the Scala participants were each placed before a small door large enough for one person to pass through.
“The exam begins the moment you open the door and enter. The Scala Exam consists of three stages in total. Let your imagination guide you. Good luck.”
Leaving those final words behind, the proctors exited. Before entering, Binaeril looked around at the other participants in the same space.
There were roughly twenty people in total. As if their thoughts aligned, Rike and Sylvia also turned their heads to look for each other.
“See you inside.”
Binaeril gave the two a refreshing smile.
The three of them had heard about the punishment handed down to Headmaster Yulio.
Pass together, fail together. Binaeril, Rike, and Sylvia were truly a community of fate.
Binaeril opened the door and took a step into the rays of light pouring out, thinking,
Honestly, failing would be harder.
Beyond a single door, an entirely different space unfolded.
Dingy gray bricks. Air heavy with unpleasant humidity.
“What is this place? An underground prison?”
Even the small window in the room was barred.
He looked behind him, but as expected, there was no way out.
Walking out of the room, a dimly lit corridor with a prison-like atmosphere stretched on endlessly.
“Do I just need to escape?”
The Scala Exam was extremely unfriendly.
He had entered thinking, if there’s an enemy in front of me, I’ll just beat it; if there’s a problem, I’ll just solve it.
But to be thrown alone into an empty underground prison and told to pass on his own.
“Are the other students trapped in the same space?”
He shouted loudly to see if anyone was there, but no one answered.
Only a desolate echo rang out, needlessly souring his mood.
For now, he began walking blindly.
Walking along the path, he came to realize one thing.
Earlier, shrouded in darkness, he hadn’t known, but the corridor was not a single straight line.
It curved to one side, branched into two paths, and some places were dead ends.
“It’s a maze. A maze.”
The first stage of the Scala Exam was none other than escaping a maze.
“O light, arise.”
For now, he decided to deal with the darkness.
He attempted an incantation, but the magic did not manifest. Wondering if he had made a mistake, he tried again, but it was the same.
“Can’t I use magic?”
Binaeril without magic was nothing more than a teenage boy with slightly better-than-average stamina.
As he began to panic, fear started to creep in.
Just then, Veritas spoke to him.
—A restriction has been placed on your imagination.
—This space is no ordinary space. It is not a real place, but a created one.
“Created?”
—This entire massive maze exists within someone’s magic. The caster placed a restriction preventing those who made the oath inside from using mana.
“So I just have to mindlessly walk around and find the exit?”
—Mindlessly walk around? Listen to you, all leisurely. Do you not hear this sound?
“What sou… nd.”
Before he could even finish speaking, Binaeril detected an ominous noise.
From the other end of the corridor, from within the darkness, an unnatural sound that no human could make began to rise.
“Grrrrrr—.”
Suddenly, the end of the corridor lit up as if someone had turned on a lightbulb.
Binaeril experienced a moment of sensory confusion, but he intuitively realized that it was not a lightbulb—it was the eyes of a monster.
“It’s a Stitch.”
A bat-type monster, the Stitch.
The most prominent characteristic of Stitches that Binaeril remembered was,
—They live in groups, and they attack intruders who trespass into their territory.
“Damn it….”
Having discovered Binaeril, the Stitches flew toward him, using their unnaturally massive ears like wings.
“Kreee-yaack!”
They emitted ultrasonic waves that reverberated through the narrow space, making his ears ring.
“What the hell am I supposed to do against monsters when I can’t even use magic!”
Veritas cackled as if enjoying Binaeril’s predicament.
The overlapping sounds of the Stitches’ shrieks and Veritas’s laughter made him feel as if he were losing his mind.
Binaeril desperately turned his body and began to run.