Becoming the Wind
Chapter 20 - 19 The Written Exam Begins

Chapter 20: Chapter 19 The Written Exam Begins

Reyhan returned to the corridor where Sylphia was waiting. The silver bench beside her, once empty, was now occupied by a young girl—Yurelia Vellmarin.

She was talking energetically, hands moving as if sketching the story in the air, while Sylphia responded with short replies:

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Wow. Cool."

Not a single expression changed on Sylphia’s face. She remained unreadable—but she was listening. That was enough to make Reyhan smile.

’You’re finally opening up, my dear.’

He gently descended like a breeze.

"My dear, Father’s back."

Sylphia glanced sideways, staring blankly at the wind she could only hear.

’Father, why were you gone so long?’ Her heart’s voice was slightly pouty.

"Sorry. I didn’t know it would take that long," Reyhan quickly replied.

’Hmph... fine. As long as you’re back now.’

Her sulky tone was adorable, and Reyhan nearly laughed aloud.

Beside her, Yurelia tilted her head in confusion. Sylphia had suddenly fallen silent, as if lost in thought.

"Hey, hello? Were you listening to my story, Verin?"

Sylphia flinched slightly. "Um—yes, I was listening," she said quickly. Her face remained as flat as ever.

Yurelia squinted suspiciously.

"In that case, what was the story abou—"

BANG!

A loudspeaker crackled across the hall.

"Good afternoon, examinees. After receiving reports from the proctors, the number of participants who passed the previous round is 1,000. Congratulations. The written exam will begin shortly..."

Everyone in the corridor looked up.

Hundreds of envelopes swirled above before shooting down, each heading toward a specific participant.

"...Inside the envelope is a map and group placement. Please proceed to your designated rooms. Good luck."

Yurelia looked up, seeing two envelopes zoom toward them.

"Oh, here we go," she muttered, catching one with one hand. "Let’s see... maybe we’re in the same group?"

"Yes," Sylphia replied flatly.

They opened their envelopes simultaneously. Inside were:

– A map

– Exam room name

– Group stage classification

Sylphia’s eyes scanned the details swiftly.

Participant Breakdown:

Stage 9: 10 people

Stage 8: 10 people

Stage 7: 50 people

Stage 6: 350 people

Stage 5: 580 people

Room Assignments:

Room 1A: Stage 8–9

Rooms 1B & 1C: Stage 6–7 (rotating)

Rooms 1D–1G: Stage 5 and below (rotating)

Yurelia grinned cheerfully. "Since I’m Stage 8 and you’re 9, we’re in the same room, Verin!"

Reyhan tilted his invisible head. ’So this little extrovert is pretty capable too, huh?’

"Yeah, looks like it," Sylphia replied.

Yurelia sighed. "Come on, why do you look so unexcited?"

She grabbed Sylphia’s hand and began pulling her toward Room 1A. But after five steps, she stopped abruptly and slapped her own forehead.

"Oh no—I totally forgot!"

Letting go of Sylphia, she turned and dashed away.

"I’ll catch up later! I need to grab something from the dorms!"

Her voice echoed down the corridor as she disappeared.

"...Weird girl," Sylphia muttered.

Then she turned to Reyhan’s unseen presence.

"Come, Father. Let’s go."

"Right behind you, sweetheart," Reyhan answered warmly, floating alongside her tiny steps.

But then Sylphia gave him a sideways glance and shifted slightly away.

"Father... even though you don’t have a face... your smile is terrifying. Please stop."

Reyhan blinked in surprise—then chuckled softly.

"Ahem... understood. Sorry. I’m just eager to ruin someone’s little plan."

Though his smile faded, his laughter lingered faintly.

Sylphia gave him a confused look but said nothing more. Together, they walked quietly through the corridor, occasionally glancing at the floating map in front of them.

Room 1A

The room was massive—far too grand to be called a classroom. The ceiling arched high with dark wood beams and white stone pillars adorned with the academy’s crest. Sunlight poured through tall windows, casting golden reflections on the polished marble floor.

Seats were arranged in a semicircle, tiered from front to back like a small amphitheater. Each desk bore a glowing magical symbol—likely for automated evaluation. At the center stood a single instructor’s table and a floating spellboard.

Most seats were already occupied—and not by ordinary people.

In the front row sat Prince Daniel, Eliera Elowen’ra, Caelan Thandorvel, Velissa Arwyndel, Drevan Elthorn, and many other nobles—all Stage 8 or 9.

When Sylphia entered, every head slowly turned.

A commoner. The youngest one. Alone.

"Tch, that girl again..." Velissa muttered, glaring.

Reyhan chuckled in the air.

"Looks like you’ve caught their attention, sweetheart."

"Not in a good way, Father," Sylphia murmured.

She walked to the front row and sat near the window, resting her chin on her hand, gazing outside.

Reyhan laughed again. "Wow... you look so cool, my dear."

’Stop teasing me, Father...’ Sylphia replied inwardly, flustered.

From the middle row, Prince Daniel stood. The atmosphere turned silent. Whispers rippled as he walked toward Sylphia.

Velissa clenched her seat in anger, face dark.

"Hey love... looks like that arrogant-pretty prince is heading your way," Reyhan muttered playfully.

’You know I don’t care about people who enslave others just because they’re ’noble.’’

"I know. I know that very well."

Daniel stopped in front of her, smiling politely.

"Hello, I’m Daniel, Prince of Elarindor," he said, extending his hand.

Sylphia glanced left and right—looking for Yurelia. She didn’t take his hand. She didn’t respond.

Daniel waited... ten seconds... twenty... one minute.

The whispers turned into audible murmurs.

"Does she not know who’s talking to her?"

"How rude..."

But the loudest voice came from Velissa.

"Disrespectful! Just like I thought—must be an orphan! No family! No manners! And if she has one, they’re probably dumb and poor!"

Sylphia turned her head.

A cold gaze, like a winter wind that pierced bone.

Velissa shuddered.

’Wh... what is this? I’m... scared? From a six-year-old commoner?’

Velissa quickly looked away, her face stiff with shame and anger. She stood, ready to lash out—

BANG!

A heavy fist struck the wall.

A tall man in a long coat with a golden proctor emblem stood by the door. Blond hair. Broad shoulders. Hawk-like eyes.

Bernath. The famously strict senior proctor.

"Enough."

His voice was calm—but sharp like a blade.

"Anyone causing a disturbance before the exam begins will be disqualified. Immediately."

His gaze swept the room.

Many lowered their heads. Velissa sat back, red-faced.

Daniel retracted his hand and left with elegance—though there was a flicker of wounded pride in his eyes.

Bernath stepped forward.

"The written exam will begin in ten minutes. Prepare yourselves."

’So the errand boy finally arrived,’ Reyhan mused from above.

Eight minutes passed. No new students arrived.

Bernath looked at the door. "With no more participants arriving, we will begin shortly."

Sylphia bit her lip, eyes fixed on the door.

’Why hasn’t Yurelia come yet... where is she?’

Reyhan drifted closer and asked gently, "Something wrong, sweetheart? You look worried."

"I..." Sylphia hesitated. Reyhan offered:

"If you’re that concerned, maybe try asking the proctor for more time. Though... I doubt he’ll grant it."

"Alright, Father. I’ll try." Sylphia started to stand—

But before she could fully rise—

"W-Wait, sir! Sorry—I’m late!"

A panting voice echoed from the doorway. Yurelia stood there, drenched in sweat, breath ragged.

Reyhan chuckled. "Looks like that won’t be necessary, sweetheart."

"Yeah, Father... she made it."

Bernath sighed. "Enter. But don’t be late again."

"Yes, sir!" Yurelia gave a quick salute and staggered to her seat beside Sylphia.

"Hi, Verin. Did you wait for me?"

"Not at all," Sylphia lied, despite how worried she had been.

Yurelia just smiled. "By the way... check this out."

From her cloak, she pulled out a sword—medium-sized, its sheath and hilt plain with no emblem or crest.

But when she drew it, the blade gleamed silver-blue. A wave pattern ran down the center, with a glowing green line, like the sword was alive.

"Why bring a weapon to a written exam?" Sylphia asked flatly, though curious.

"Oh, because right after this we’ll have combat trials. My spirit can’t attack—just equalize the enemy’s strength with mine. So the rest is up to me." Yurelia grinned.

SLAM.

A hand struck the table, cutting their conversation.

"You two. Quiet." Bernath’s tone was sharp.

"Yes, sir," Yurelia replied, sitting straight.

Sylphia said nothing and lowered her gaze.

Bernath walked forward, voice booming.

"Now then. The written exam begins now."

He gestured. From the back, assistants entered carrying large trays.

"But first, each of you must wear this ring."

The assistants distributed thin silver rings, laced with soft blue lines. Warm to the touch, they seemed almost alive.

Bernath held one high.

"This ring was personally developed by Professor Sirton. It detects area-based movement. If you so much as glance sideways, cheat, or act suspiciously—it will alert the system instantly."

Nervous murmurs filled the room.

"Any alert will result in immediate disqualification. No exceptions. No retakes."

Silence fell.

Reyhan chuckled softly in the air. "At last... it begins. Hehehe..."

Sylphia glanced upward. ’What’s with Father... why’s he laughing?’

An assistant placed 10 exam sheets and one sensor ring on Sylphia’s desk.

But Bernath himself delivered it—and when he did, he gave a sly, almost mocking smile.

"Good luck... little one," he whispered.

Sylphia glared at him, but said nothing as she slipped the ring onto h

er finger.

All students wore their rings. Their desks lit with a faint blue glow. The magical energy in the room grew tense—sealed.

Bernath raised one hand high.

"The exam will last one hour. It begins when I clap my hands."

Silence.

CLAP!

A soft "ding!" chimed from each desk.

"Begin."