The whispers of doubt and morbid fascination continued, but Giovanno paid them no mind. His gaze, sharp and focused, locked onto the menacing, ethereal wolf.
"Stay back,"
he snarled over his shoulder, a dismissive flick of his wrist aimed more at his useless comrades than the looming beast.
"This is my fight."
Without waiting for a response, or even a glance to see if they obeyed, Giovanno surged forward. His movements were swift, a blur of focused aggression, leaving his teammates gaping, some in awe, others in disbelief, at his arrogant charge. The ethereal wolf, sensing the challenge, let out a silent snarl, its form shimmering as it prepared for the lone combatant.
Giovanno didn't hesitate. With a silent command, the very ground around him stirred. Sand, coarse and golden, erupted from the earth, swirling violently into a miniature vortex around his outstretched hand. In seconds, the chaotic particles coalesced, hardening with terrifying speed, shaping into a long, impossibly sharp spear.
A flicker of raw power ignited in his eyes. With a vicious, practiced thrust, Giovanno hurled the earthen weapon. It whistled through the air, unerringly precise, and pierced the ethereal wolf's shimmering head with a sickening crunch that resonated even through the beast's non-physical form. The wolf froze, its form flickering erratically, before it dissolved into wisps of faint, grey smoke that quickly dissipated into nothing.
A stunned silence fell over the arena. Giovanno stood, chest heaving slightly, the residue of his magic still tingling in the air around him. Behind him, his teammates remained frozen, mouths agape, their earlier doubts replaced by a mixture of shock and reluctant awe.
But it wasn't just them. From unseen vantage points, the exam programmers watched, their expressions a blend of surprise and an almost reluctant admiration. This was not the expected outcome. This was... something else entirely.
From unseen vantage points, the exam programmers watched, their expressions a blend of surprise and an almost reluctant admiration. This was not the expected outcome. This was... something else entirely.
Then, a ripple of murmurs started to spread through the unseen observers—the other student examinees who were witnessing the trial unfold. The murmurs quickly escalated into a chorus of indignant complaints.
"Hey! That's not fair!"
one voice shouted, cutting through the stunned silence.
"How come Nero and the six other dumbs get it so easy?"
another joined in, their frustration evident.
"They did nothing! It was just Giovanno!"
The cacophony of student complaints echoed through the otherwise pristine testing environment, a jarring disruption to the carefully controlled atmosphere.
Heads within the observation booths of the exam programmers turned, some exchanging wary glances, others pinching the bridges of their noses. This was precisely the kind of unforeseen variable that could compromise the integrity of their meticulously designed "Final Year Exam." Accusations of unfairness, especially when amplified by the collective resentment of hundreds of aspiring mages, were not something to be easily dismissed.
It was Gnaeus, one of the senior programmers, whose voice finally cut through the rising tide of discontent. His tone wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority, amplified by the unseen arcane mechanisms of the examination hall. It resonated, firm and clear, directly into the minds of every protesting student, silencing them almost instantly.
"Silence!"
Gnaeus commanded, the single word rippling with a power that left no room for argument.
"I understand your immediate frustration. Your indignation, even."
His voice softened slightly, adopting a more pedagogical tone, though the underlying steel remained.
"However, let us remind ourselves of the parameters of this examination."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in, scanning the invisible throng of students.
"The objective of this segment was to neutralize the threat presented by the ethereal construct. It was never explicitly stated that collaboration was a mandatory component of its dissolution."
A slight hum filled the air as Gnaeus accessed a projected, shimmering scroll of text only visible to the programmers, though its essence was subtly felt by the students.
"Article 7, Subsection Beta: 'Candidates are expected to demonstrate proficiency in offensive and defensive spellcraft, tactical assessment, and resource management in confronting simulated threats. The method of threat neutralization is left to the discretion of the participating examinees, provided it adheres to the established ethical guidelines and does not endanger non-combatants.'"
He let the implications hang in the air.
"Nowhere, students, does it stipulate that the threat must be overcome through collective effort. Nowhere does it state that individual brilliance is to be penalized simply because it overshadows the contributions of others."
A pointed, almost imperceptible glance was cast towards the arena floor where Giovanno stood, oblivious.
"Giovanno demonstrated exceptional proficiency, tactical assessment, and resource management. He neutralized the threat. The criteria have been met."
A few more grumbles stirred amongst the students, but they were significantly weaker now, confronted by the unyielding logic of the rules. The programmers, for all their surprise at Giovanno's performance, were sticklers for the letter of the law.
Meanwhile, on the arena floor, Giovanno remained utterly indifferent to the rising storm of protest he had unwittingly unleashed. The momentary burst of magic had left him invigorated rather than drained, a smug satisfaction simmering beneath his composed exterior. He barely heard Gnaeus's pronouncements, the man's voice just a distant hum in his ears. His attention was already elsewhere, his gaze drifting towards the exit portal that had shimmered into existence a moment after the wolf's dissipation.
The complaints of his peers, the outrage over
"Nero and the six other dumbs"—which he correctly assumed referred to his assigned group—registered as nothing more than background noise, the petty squabbling of lesser talents. He had done what was required. He had proven his superiority. The opinions of those beneath him were irrelevant.
Without a word, without a glance back at his utterly bewildered and now deeply humiliated teammates, Giovanno turned on his heel. His long coat billowed slightly as he strode with deliberate, unhurried steps towards the shimmering portal. He didn't acknowledge Nero, who stared at his back with a mix of awe and a seething resentment that promised future conflict. He didn't spare a glance for the other six , who stood rooted, utterly overshadowed and forgotten.
"Pathetic "
He simply walked away, the soft hum of the portal growing louder with each step, the silent promise of whatever awaited him on the other side. The air crackled with the lingering energy of his powerful magic and the simmering resentment of every student who had just witnessed his spectacular, solitary triumph. He had passed his part of the exam, and that was all that mattered. The collective, the team, the rules about teamwork – they were all just impediments for the truly gifted.
The atmosphere in the examination hall, while outwardly calmed by Gnaeus's pronouncement, was now thick with an unspoken tension. Giovanno had not only passed his challenge but had also inadvertently exposed a significant loophole or a blind spot in the exam's design, forcing the programmers to publicly defend an outcome they hadn't anticipated.
Just as Giovanno reached the threshold of the shimmering exit portal, a figure materialized in his path. It was Benjamin, one of the class's most respected students, known for his sharp intellect and unwavering adherence to proper conduct. Benjamin, unlike the rest, hadn't been swept up in the wave of jealous complaints; his concern lay with decorum and respect.
Benjamin placed a firm, yet carefully measured hand on Giovanno's shoulder, stopping him just inches from the portal's swirling light.
"Giovanno, wait,"
Benjamin said, his voice low but clear, meant only for Giovanno's ears.
"I get it, man. Humiliating the other students, making a show of it... maybe that's 'cool' in your book. But you can't just—"
Benjamin couldn't finish his sentence. Before the last word had even left his lips, Giovanno's eyes, which had been distant and preoccupied a moment before, snapped into sharp, cold focus. The hand on his shoulder was an intolerable affront, a challenge to his absolute authority in this moment of triumph.
With a speed that defied human reflexes, Giovanno grabbed Benjamin's arm. His grip was like iron, a sudden, crushing force that made Benjamin gasp. Then, with a savage twist and a brutal, upward swing, Giovanno's fist connected squarely with Benjamin's jaw. The crack was sickeningly loud, echoing in the sudden, horrified silence that descended upon the arena.
Benjamin's eyes rolled back. His body went limp instantly, dropping like a sack of stones to the pristine floor, completely unconscious.
The remaining students on the arena floor—Nero and his bewildered teammates—stared in stunned disbelief. Up in the observation booths, the exam programmers, who had been discussing Giovanno's unconventional success, froze. Gnaeus, who had just finished defending Giovanno's actions, watched, his face going pale with a mix of shock and dawning fury.
The moment Benjamin's body hit the ground, the stunned silence shattered. A collective gasp rose from the unseen student observers. On the arena floor, Nero and his group took a step back, their faces a mixture of fear and horror.
From the observation booths, a flurry of urgent whispers erupted among the exam programmers. Then, a panel slid open and several figures, instantly recognizable as Healing Sorcerers by their distinctive robes emblazoned with the symbol of intertwining caduceus staves, rushed out. Their faces were grim, their movements precise and practiced. They ran directly towards Benjamin, their hands already glowing with soft, restorative light.
One sorcerer knelt quickly, pressing two fingers to Benjamin's neck. A wave of relief, almost palpable, washed over the group as the sorcerer nodded.
"He's alive,"
the sorcerer announced, their voice low but clearly audible in the suddenly intense quiet.
"Unconscious, but alive. Severe concussion, possibly a fracture. We need to move him."
Even as they spoke, a delicate, intricate web of glowing energy began to spread over Benjamin's bruised jaw.
Meanwhile, Giovanno, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he had just unleashed, stepped into the shimmering portal. He didn't look back. He didn't acknowledge the prone form of Benjamin, the frantic healers, or the horrified stares of his peers and the furious gazes of the programmers. The portal swallowed him whole, and then, with a soft hum, it dissolved, leaving behind only the lingering tension and the unconscious student.
And no one dared to stop him.