52 Destiny Makes a Joke of Talents (1/2)
When Kilian's name first echoed, not many paid him heed. The ”zu” particle ensured that most didn't even bother glancing at him. But curiosity being such an overbearing mistress, all still looked at his result.
”36 Unlocked Roots, no attributes.”
Jealousy or scorn? As they stared at those five words, the aristocrats didn't know what stance to adopt.
”Fate does make a joke of talents. Though perhaps, this is for the best,” Hanns sighed and shook his head in disappointment. In the history of Arcadia, only two people ever showed more than 18 Unlocked Roots, and amusingly, both had 36.
First, Reinhold von Skoll, the fallen Crown Prince, and Klaus' true self. Second, Kilian.
But while Reinhold possessed seven Innate Attributes and died at seven, Kilian possessed none. That being the case, regardless of Unlocked Root quantity, he couldn't go beyond the High Emissary rank—or so they thought. If not for that assurance, Hanns would now be preparing his murder.
In fact, Kilian did possess one attribute, the Fehl Attribute that englobed all others. But because Fehl left no trace, the altar couldn't detect it. As long as he showed even one Innate Attribute, Kilian knew he wouldn't survive the day. But with none? His magical aptitudes would simply turn into a recurring joke.
”Without at least one attribute, the creation of Elemental Crystals becomes an extreme challenge. When others will take a year, he will need ten. Worst, he will never be able to condense Greater Crystals. What a pity,” Carmen von Draken, who like the others observed Kilian's results, sighed in genuine disappointment. Yet, as a compulsive gambler, she couldn't help make a silent bet on Kilian's uncertain future.
The initial torpor made way for a mixture of relief and silent mockery. Ignoring it all, Kilian returned to his seat.
On the scene, there wasn't one individual without at least three Unlocked Roots. Knowing the academy's recruitment criteria, no examinee would show up without at least the unlocked root requirement fulfilled. In the failures' eyes, Kilian was no better than them. At best, he'd become a High Emissary.
A few more examinees succeeded one another before all 54 had their roots and attributes tested.
”So ends the annual banquet and examination. Guests and rejected examinees will now have to leave the island. As for you, the successful 54, welcome to the Imperial Academy,” Hanns declared, thus marking the end of the gathering. Hundreds of imperial guards entered, motioning for the guests and rejected examinees to follow them out of the academy. In orderly fashion, the aristocrats departed, leaving behind the 54 and their servants.
”As new students, you will all receive a brown robe. Here, students are not ranked by years and seniority, but by the robes they wear. The brown robe is the only one with neither enchantment nor protection abilities. Once you pass the Lesser Emissary examination, you can get a silver robe,” Hanns explained and vanished in swirling red light.
From lowest to highest, the Imperial Academy ranked its students as brown, silver, black gold, white gold, and purple gold. Only those that obtained the white-gold robe before 30 could officially graduate. Others left empty-handed.
Following Hanns' departure, the three department chairs led the new students on a tour of the academy's facilities, at the end of which all received their robes and assigned suite keys. With less than 2,000 students, the majority of which had been there for years, the academy provided a suite for each noble scion depending on their robe-color. The browns' naturally were the worst.
The students then had to register for their majors and pick their classes, with various choices depending on their Innate Attributes and score results. As expected by many, besides the mandatory courses, Kilian chose Technomancy as his major, and Flesh Sculpture as his minor. For the power-craving aristocrats, those were well-known, dead-end choices.
…
Meanwhile, in the comfort of his suite, Ayden received news of the testing's results alongside Tristan and a young lady with identical looks to the latter.
”36 Unlocked Roots? Ha, overkill. You don't even need that many to become an Exarch. Could have been fun if not for the zero attribute thing. Oh well,” Ayden jested while pulling the young lady, Estrella von Skoll, closer toward him.
”Ayden, you always take things too lightly. Fortunately, we have Tristan to worry about serious matters,” Estrella, Tristan's twin sister, replied without resisting Ayden's embrace.
Used to seeing the two act so intimate, Tristan merely browsed the recording mirrors' various news.
”Although his magical future doesn't look promising, he's the only remaining heir to Ostria's growing wealth. That Celestial Garden sure is a profitable business. His test results also show a sharp and hardworking man. No harm in pulling him to our side,” Tristan chimed in. Having done his homework on Kilian, he knew of his ”full” background, and bond to Olaf. Needless to say, the info at his disposal had been prepared by Kilian.
”You know the saying, the best money is dirty.”
”There is no such saying.”
”I just invented it. By the way, book me a room and let's ditch a week's worth of classes in the arms of those so-called goddesses,” Ayden gleefully replied while pointing his left index at the flushing Tristan.
”Watch your language! You're the crown prince, not a slumlord! Also, didn't you have enough fun with your last wench?” Before her flustered brother could answer, Estrella shoved Ayden away, and snarled in irritation.
Undisturbed, Ayden pulled her back into his arms.
”That's how you know I failed my orientation. And since when do you care about those women?” Ayden countered. Having never kept any secret from his beloved Estrella, she naturally knew about all his experiments. But before, never showed much care. What changed?
”Nonsense, who wouldn't care? I'm just tolerating them!” She snorted for emphasis and turned her head away from him.
”Alright, alright, no new wench for a year.”
”Five!”
”Two, just because I love you to death.”