Chapter 63: The Proving

The following morning, the sky above Eldrath was painted in hues of pale gold, and the academy bells rang across the sprawling campus. Students bustled through the open courtyards and stone archways, most of them whispering about a new applicant who had defeated Cernan Vellmont with a weapon no one could quite explain.

That applicant now stood in front of the Examination Hall, wearing a simple black jacket and his signature smirk.

A tall man with a thick beard and monocle, wearing professor’s robes lined with deep red, opened the door and looked Inigo up and down.

"Inigo Velasquez, I presume," the professor said, rolling a scroll in his hand.

"That’s me," Inigo replied casually.

"I am Professor Maelric. I’ll be your overseer for today’s Proving. Follow me."

The interior of the Examination Hall was part dueling arena, part laboratory, and part classroom. Runes glowed softly from the stone walls, and floating lanterns bobbed in midair, illuminating the rows of enchanted testing equipment.

"Before we begin," Maelric said, gesturing toward a small raised platform, "please step into the Affinity Circle. We must determine your natural alignment first."

Inigo stepped onto the glowing circle. As he did, strands of pale light slithered up from the runes, scanning him like unseen fingers brushing over his aura.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then a chime rang—and the circle displayed a strange pattern. A jagged starburst at the center, not aligned with fire, wind, earth, water, or even shadow.

Maelric frowned.

"No elemental affinity... no arcane resonance... curious," the professor muttered, adjusting his monocle.

"So I failed already?" Inigo asked.

"On the contrary," Maelric replied, "you triggered the enchantment affinity marker. Rare. Very rare. Enchantment magic is not flashy, but it’s one of the most difficult to master. You may lack traditional casting abilities, but your body emits a low-level enhancement field. That means your magic... augments things."

Inigo tilted his head. "So... support magic?"

"More or less," the professor nodded. "Now let’s see how you perform in a practical scenario."

Maelric led him to a large testing range. At the far end stood a row of reinforced training dummies made of ironwood and layered cloth.

"Show us your enchantment potential," Maelric said, handing Inigo a rune-chalk and a blank sheet of test parchment. "You may channel your magic into any object you possess."

Inigo looked at the dummy, then at the chalk, and then back at the professor.

"Anything I want?" he clarified.

"Yes. Cast enchantment. We’ll measure the impact."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Inigo’s lips.

"Alright. You asked for it."

He reached into his inventory ring and pulled out his old reliable—his Desert Eagle. A clean, silver-chromed hand cannon that gleamed in the sunlight like a divine relic. The moment he gripped it, a faint aura of energy shimmered along the barrel.

Professor Maelric blinked. "What... is that?"

"My magic," Inigo said simply.

He whispered a soft enchantment—using nothing but instinct. The magic responded to his will, infusing the bullet with a faint glow. He raised the Desert Eagle, aimed at the dummy, and squeezed the trigger.

BOOM!

The gunshot echoed like thunder, and the enchanted bullet slammed directly into the dummy’s chest, puncturing clean through the ironwood and splintering the support behind it.

The students observing from the gallery gasped. Maelric’s jaw dropped.

"That... that wasn’t elemental! That wasn’t kinetic casting! What kind of magical focus is that?!" he exclaimed.

Inigo blew on the barrel. "It’s called a handgun. But I got more."

Before Maelric could respond, Inigo reached into his inventory again and pulled out something longer—an M4 Carbine rifle, matte black, cold, and menacing in his hands.

"Observe," Inigo said casually.

He didn’t even bother enchanting this time. He aimed and fired a quick burst—brrrt!

Multiple rounds tore into another dummy, riddling it into what looked like a shredded scarecrow. Fragments of cloth and wood flew in every direction. The target looked like it had been chewed up by a monster.

Students were standing now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Incredible," Maelric whispered. "It’s like... raw magic forged into metal. And yet it’s not magic at all."

"Oh, I’m not done," Inigo said, smiling.

He tapped into the system store.

[Purchase] M203 Grenade Launcher: 800 Tokens

[Purchase] 40mm High-Explosive Round: 20 Tokens

The launcher appeared in his hand with a metallic clunk, and he affixed it under the M4 barrel with practiced ease. He loaded the round, flicked the safety, and aimed toward a heavily reinforced dummy surrounded by protection wards.

He fired.

THOOM!

A deep, chest-rattling boom echoed through the chamber, followed by a fiery explosion that engulfed the dummy in a burst of smoke and flame. When it cleared, the reinforced target was lying in pieces.

Gasps erupted across the hall.

"That’s not fireball," Maelric muttered, genuinely shaken. "That’s something else. It’s like a flame bolt—but denser, more destructive. You crafted a new form of magical augmentation. Weaponized support enhancement."

Inigo holstered his weapon and turned to the stunned professor.

"So... did I pass?"

Maelric took a moment before straightening his robes. "The practical portion... is complete. We’ve seen enough."

A bell rang, and the floating lanterns dimmed slightly. An attendant guided Inigo into the final room—a stone chamber filled with long desks and glowing paper.

"Now begins the written portion," the assistant said. "Subjects: grammar, mathematics, magical theory, and world history. You have ninety minutes."

Inigo took his seat, cracked his knuckles, and started writing.

Grammar? Easy. Verb tenses, sentence construction, synonyms—child’s play for someone from Earth.

Mathematics? It was basic arithmetic, geometry, and algebra. He breezed through the equations, scribbling down answers with fluid speed.

History, though... that was another matter.

The questions made no sense to him.

He made educated guesses, but it was like taking a pop quiz on a fantasy game’s lore he skipped.

When the time was up, he put down his pen and leaned back.

"Finished?" the assistant asked.

"Yup. Hope I got partial credit on that last section."

Later that afternoon, Inigo returned to the main lobby of the Academy, where Professor Maelric stood with a crystal tablet in hand.

"You scored full marks in grammar and mathematics. Remarkable. Most students struggle with the math."

"As for history... you scored poorly," Maelric admitted.

"I’m bad at history."

He tapped the crystal. "Overall, your composite score exceeds our minimum threshold. Congratulations, Inigo Velasquez. You’ve passed the Proving."

Cheers erupted from a few onlookers—some students, some instructors. Even Serina, who had been watching from the far hallway, clapped with both hands pressed shyly to her chest.

Inigo gave a small bow. "Glad to be here."

Maelric smiled, still clearly fascinated by the unfamiliar weapons Inigo had demonstrated. "You’re an oddity, Mr. Velasquez. A modern enchanter. We may need to create an entirely new classification for your kind of magic."

With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, and Serina made her way toward him.

"You passed," she said with a bright smile.

"Told you I would."

"What... were those things you used?" she asked curiously.

"I’ll explain later. Over lunch."

She blushed a little, nodding. "I’ll hold you to that."

As they walked side by side through the academy halls, Inigo glanced up at the towering spires around him.

He was now officially a student of the Royal Magic Academy.

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