Reborn Healer Chapter 33

The brightness of whatever spell Sebastian had triggered blinded me even with my eyes squeezed shut. With it came a sense of magic pressure, though interestingly not any of the Danger Sense-induced adrenaline that I would have expected for an offensive spell.

I guess it didn’t really make sense to have someone in the higher Master tiers like Sebastian presumably was to straight-up attack a room full of Initiates and Adepts. Those upper tiers were the kind of people that legends were written about. Expecting defense against someone like that would have been a massacre.

Instead, as I reset my vision with a burst heal to my retinas, I saw that the light had segmented the room with six prismatic walls.

Huh. So the test actually had begun.

#

Sebastian always had fun with this part. Every year, there were so many cocksure new applicants absolutely certain of their own superiority. The wannabe adventurers from the Northside were all spoiled children of merchants, lesser nobility, landed officials, and the like. Many of them had picked up this profession as little more than a hobby and expected everything to be handed to them like it had their entire lives.

It disgusted him. These children weren’t even real nobility. They were stuck-up pricks in a backwater frontier city playing at war.

As such, it was always a little satisfying shoving all of them at speed. He couldn’t do anything of real note to them, of course, but some roughing up was to be expected when it came to guild entrance examinations.

“You may notice that there are now walls formed of raw mana before you,” he announced. “If you cannot tell them apart, I advise you leave immediately. Otherwise, you can progress through them as they were summoned: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple.”

He paused, watching as a number of applicants bull-rushed the red wall that had pushed them into the far end of the hall. Some of them stumbled straight through, but a good chunk slammed into it headfirst and fell down, bleeding and whining like the ingrates they were. 

“You may also notice that the walls are quite hard,” he added mildly. “This is a progressive test intended to examine your alignment with your own core. Your raw power will be tested, but to those who have not yet broken the barrier of Adept, fear not. Power alone is insufficient to pass through these gates.”

Already, there were those who had realized what they needed to do. Many of the groups beginning to forge their way through the red wall had already attempted this test before and knew what to expect. This part of the exam never changed.

Almost half of the applicant pool would get stuck at red or orange. Getting through each layer required not only a powerful ability to condense one’s own mana core but also the determination and technique to soldier on through increasingly thick layers of resistance.

There were always a few special ones, though, and he watched as a handful of prospective guild members stepped through red, orange, and even yellow like they were nothing. This year’s prospects, not counting the ones trialing to keep their position in the Federation, had a number of strong contenders.

Four newbies had already made it to the green wall, three of them warriors and the last an offensive mage. The warrior cores had actual proper training, not the kind that swordsmen gave noble children to make them feel special, and the mage had a killing intent to her that would serve her well in the field.

Even if they were too aggressive, the initiative and control they demonstrated was a good sign. All four of them were almost certainly going to make it to the end of the tests.

Sebastian paid them some mind, but his attention was nowhere near them. What had stolen his eyes was something invisible to most of the applicants. The further down the walls were, the more opaque. Though it was simply a function of having more mana invested in them, it served a double purpose in making applicants unsure if they were at the front of the pack or not. For the right people, it would provide a push.

At least, that was the usual idea. The initial activation of the spell essentially forced all of the walls on every person in the room at once, and even those who were prepared for it typically ended up pushed all the way to the back.

This time, though, there were not one but two people who had stood their ground. That would have been unusual enough if they were at the section of the hall closer to the gates where applicants were entering from. Tanking the hit from even the red layer alone was impressive even for frontliners, but neither of the applicants who’d stayed where they were had been anywhere near there.

Sebastian recognized them, but then again, he recognized all the applicants. One of his specialties was the rare branch of divination, after all. Though the increasingly chaotic state of the world had made his larger-scale abilities less reliable recently, he still had a strong net over Liaren.

He made his way through the walls himself, stopping between the blue and purple walls. The second to last barrier was enough to filter out most Adepts, and even the most concentrated Initiate core wouldn’t be able to get through it.

“Mizuki,” he said. “You’re very well trained.”

Well trained was an understatement. Even at Grandmaster, it took conscious effort for Sebastian to avoid the effects of something like this when he wasn’t the caster. An Adept, doing the same?

“I appreciate the compliment, sir,” Mizuki said. “I would like to point out that it’s rude to peer into someone’s personal life.”

“I can’t help it.” He had divined the possible futures she could take more than once by now. Many of them were bad. “You’re much more important than you pretend to be.”

“I would prefer if you at least pretended to show some restraint, sir,” she said.

“Of course,” he said. “You have great promise. I look forward to working with you.”

“If you can forgive me asking, sir, why proceed with the rest of the test if you already have an idea of who you want?” Mizuki asked, her soul glimmering with wariness. “I assume you have some kind of advanced perception-category spell or skill. Divination or pathing?”

“Tradition serves a purpose,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “And my arts are meant as a supplement to reality, not as a replacement.”

“I understand,” Mizuki said, clearly not understanding.

“Divination is what I mean to say. Carry on, applicant,” he said. “Your exemplary performance will be noted.”

“Will it?” she asked, trying and failing to hide a mixture of annoyance and awe. “Tell me. Is Ren behind that last wall?”

“…Yes. You know him well.”

Her shoulders sagged slightly. “He’s better than he knows. You should go and talk to him as well, sir.”

“Of course, my lady,” Sebastian said.

He made a mental note to get Mizuki in the guild no matter the cost. Her future saw her coming into conflict with a great deal of people who wanted her for different reasons than the usual lowlife ones. While some of the reasoning was familiar to him, seeing the real thing had him wondering just what else this girl had going on with her.

On top of my existing plans…

Sebastian walked through the purple barrier, shaking his head. There was still so much more to do.

On the other side, back against one of the still sealed-shut doors, was the twelve-year-old upstart who looked like he should have been in school or learning work skills instead of participating in guild tests.

“Ren Kane,” he said. “Son of Vallis Kane.”

“That’s me,” Ren said. “Where’d everyone else go?”

Sebastian bit back his scoff. The child had to know what had happened. The force of the spell was akin to being hit by a hurricane.

“You’re fairly young to risk your life,” he said.

“I’ve been told that a few times,” Ren sighed, his mood visibly getting worse. “Are you going to tell me to sit this out, too?”

“Absolutely not,” Sebastian said. “On the contrary. I would urge you show me everything you can. You could get gold or platinum adventurer rank coming straight out of the trial.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Ren said flatly. “Oh, wait, guild rank. I read something about that. Something to do with quotas?”

This child was a puzzle. He was deeply world-weary in some ways despite his age, and his knowledge was profound in some areas while obviously lacking in others.

Sebastian generally saved his divinations for those who truly interested him, only making surface-level observations for those who caught his eye to some extent like this boy and Mizuki. With this display, though, they’d elevated their stock substantially.

Just like he’d done with Mizuki, Sebastian focused on the threads of probability and fate surrounding Ren. Mana pulsed out from him, reaching for the branches that stemmed from all living souls—

Only to encounter a dark void. To Sebastian’s vision, it was as if cracks were appearing in the world around him, falling away into nothingness. The boy before him was a probablistic void. There was no predicting his future or even analyzing what his character was. If a Grandmaster’s spell couldn’t do it, nothing could.

And this boy was only Adept. What kind of monster was he?

#

Sebastian felt different today. The first time I’d met him, my Danger Sense had been pinging like mad. It was still there now, informing me that the man in front of me was insanely powerful, but he must have been off his game or something.

When he’d affixed me with a stare, my Danger Sense had surged sky-high for just a moment before nearly flatlining. It was back to normal now, but Sebastian still felt oddly subdued.

“Something wrong?” I asked. “Am I on the wrong side of the walls? That’d be embarrassing.”

I’d barely felt the walls come down. Whether that had been because of lucky positioning or something else, I got the impression that I had skipped past an entire phase of the exam. Either that, or I was the only one who hadn’t started yet.

“No, not at all,” Sebastian said. “A fantastic showing by you, in fact. Might I ask your secret?”

My secret? “That could mean anything. Are you just fishing for something you can use against me?”

“No. Are you doing it unconsciously?”

“I do a lot of things unconsciously,” I said. “Like breathing. And blinking. Cycling my core, I guess. Sorry, am I missing something?”

Distantly, I was aware that I shouldn’t have been talking so flippantly to someone probably powerful enough to crush me like a bug with a snap of his fingers, but it came out so easily.

I blamed Matias.

“You must be, then,” Sebastian said. “When all this is said and done, I would love to study some of your magic resistances.”

“Not aware of any of those, but if you’d like to inform me, I”d love to hear about it,” I said. “I’m looking for information more than anything else at the moment.”

“So am I, Ren,” the regional commander replied, shaking his head in resignation. “I’ll see you in the final segment.”

“See you… there?” I said, unsure.

The door I’d been leaning on unlocked.

“Go on to the next section.” Sebastian sounded oddly defeated, which I didn’t quite understand. 

I really needed a better information network. I’d sensed mana, but hadn’t been able to tell what it was doing. Had he cast a spell on me and had it fail? If so, I was just as confused as him. Possibly more, since I had no idea why he’d cast a spell on me.

Sebastian was already gone, having walked back into the purple wall I’d watched pass through me last.

In his place, Mizuki came out through that same wall, exerting just enough effort to see it visible on her face.

“Of course you’re already here,” she said.

“Of course you’re the only other person here,” I replied. “Walls not push you back?”

“Not really, but I didn’t get to try the purple one,” she said. “Got separated before the walls hit.”

“Well, the door’s unlocked,” I said. “Wanna see the next phase?”

“They’ll split us up anyway,” she said, but she followed me as I ventured forth.

The door exited straight into the outdoors, where a variety of courses had been set up and roped off. A few dozen personnel were wandering the area, running final check-ups and chatting.

As the door swung open with a grating creak, the conversations died down, gazes turning toward us.

“They’re early,” I heard someone say. “Seven hells, this is fifteen minutes faster than they were last year.”

For a moment, everyone remained frozen, us processing them and the other way around. Then, someone shouted out an order and they all got into motion, getting to their stations. An official directed us to split up, pointing us at different testing locations. I waved goodbye to Mizuki before following the instructions to enter the offensive mage segment.

The first part was handled by a portly middle-aged man sitting under the shade of a stone tent. He directed me to stand in front of a clearing of dust and grass that looked much like a firing range.

As he conjured a boulder about my size, I realized that it was a firing range.

“Sorry about this,” he apologized. “You’re way faster than anyone was last year. Normally, all of this would be set up already.”

“Not a problem,” I said.

“You’re the youngest candidate I’ve seen,” he noted. “You must have some serious skills.”

“I’m decent,” I hedged. “You should see my family.”

He laughed uproariously at that as if I’d said something incredibly funny instead of my actual opinion. “Always the strong ones that’re humble, eh?”

At length, the boulder finished its construction. It was just a slab of rock.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked him. “Just to be clear.”

“You have ninety seconds to do your best to damage it,” he said. “It’s standard granite. How much of it you can obliterate, the degree to which you can crack or fracture it, and other measurements of destruction will all be taken into account. If you fail to meet a certain threshold, you will automatically fail.”

Right. A basic offensive task for offensive mages. “And I can do whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want. I will start on your first attack.”

I repositioned my feet and hurtled my lifeline at the rock, reinforcing it with shadow magic. It sailed straight and true, the tip embedding itself almost to the beginning of the spear shaft. Shadows spread out into the surrounding area, weakening the granite face. I held a hand out, calling the lifeline back to my hand, then repeated the process, hurtling it a bit deeper this time. With Harmonic Awareness, my aim was perfect, drilling straight into the same hole agian.

I did it a third time, then a fourth. By the fifth throw, the hole I’d drilled had widened enough where I could almost fit my arm inside it, and it was a solid eight or nine inches deep now.

Call Lifeline lvl 3 -> 4

Nightmare Forged lvl 7 -> 8

“I can approach the rock, right?” I asked.

“No rules against it. Sixty seconds.”

I should hurry this up. An idea sparked. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if it would work, but it sounded pretty cool, so I decided to give it a shot.

“You might want to step back.”

I tossed my lifeline off in the distance towards the trees beyond the firing range, hurtling it with maximum speed before I started calling it back. It reached nearly the edge of the range that I could call it back from, but it was still in the right area.

As my spear started gaining speed on its way back, I tore into the stone with my bare fists, Split the Shadows forming claws from my fingers and allowing me to further the weakness I’d created with my spear. This wasn’t a proper barrier, though, so while I got a good amount of damage in, I doubted I would be able to split the rock in two.

“Forty-five seconds.”

I just needed enough of a hole, though. Stepping back and judging my handiwork, I decided the area I had raked open was enough.

Need to time this right… there it was. I cast Fireball and Shield within a quarter second of each other, forcing the former spell to form on the inside of the boulder and using the latter to pressure-seal it as well as provide myself with a source of cover as I point-blank cast a spell with Adept-tier force.

My spear returned at speed just in the nick of time, striking a critical point and weakening the boulder from the back. Whether or not it was actually necessary, I wasn’t sure, but the resultant effect was that the boulder exploded, the built-up pressure of the Fireball and weakening combining enough to send a wave of force in all directions, splintering the boulder into fist-sized rocks and dust.

Call Lifeline lvl 4 -> 5

My Shield broke, but it absorbed enough of the blast that I was only sent tumbling backwards instead of getting sent tumbling backwards with a gaping hole in my torso. I still hit myself with a Basic Heal spell just to ensure that I’d be operating at full capacity once the dust cleared, though.

“Thirty-seven seconds remaining,” the portly mage said, waving a hand. The dust I’d kicked up fell to the ground immediately, revealing an empty pedestal where the boulder had been. “Full destruction. Very impressive.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Name’s Spike, by the way,” he said. “Master mage, earth focus. Pleasure to meet you, Red.”

Oh, right. I was still officially registered by that name.

“Thanks,” I said. “I hope to see you in the guild.”

That was the first independent test done. The second and third ones were similar. Test number two was an accuracy one where I didn’t even see the person who’d set it up. I could have just used Firebolts to get away with breaking the glass targets, but I wanted to practice with Call Lifeline. I only ended up hitting forty or so in the two minutes I got for it, but I did notice a legitimate increase in speed.

Call Lifeline lvl 5 -> 6

The third measured consistency, which I’d already been doing on the first. Once again, I could’ve just used Firebolt a ton, but it never hurt to get in a little more practice with Call Lifeline. Throwing a consistent spear was harder than just using the same amount of mana for every spell, anyway.

Once I was done with that, though, I had to wait for a while. The next test, I was informed, required two people at a minimum. I assumed that since we’d gone over all the basic measurements, we’d be doing something paired against each other. I did kind of wonder why there wasn’t a specific test for dodging stuff while attacking, but maybe that was this next one.

I ended up taking a light nap on the bench where I was supposed to wait. Since I couldn’t watch other attempts, there was no excitement in people-watching. There was a whole bunch of noise coming from both magic and people complaining or chatting, but I didn’t really care for much of it.

I woke up to the sound of a staff rapping sharply against the bench I was sitting on.

“Oh, did my partner arrive?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

In front of me was a teen boy probably sixteen or seventeen years old, blue eyes wild and black hair slicked back. He had an expensive-looking cloak on and an even pricer-looking silver staff by his side, complete with a genuinely impressive mana crystal set into its tip.

“Two offensive mages have arrived,” the bored-out-of-her-mind proctor for this part of the exam announced. “Please proceed into the arena, where the rules will be explained to you.”

We did. The “arena” in question was a simple rectangular court with stone pillars irregularly placed throughout the place.

“When the exam begins, a spell that prevents biological matter from traveling between the two sides will activate,” the proctor explained, finally sounding a little less like she would rather be dead than be here. “There will be situations in the World Dungeon and elsewhere where you are forced to operate at a range. You will be scored based on how many hits you are able to land on your opponent as well as how little damage you can take. Secondary points will be awarded for destruction of your opponent’s cover.

“Participants: Red. Thaddeus Iron. Please take your spots. When time begins, you will have ten minutes or until one of you surrenders or falls unconscious. Falling unconscious is an automatic fail. Surrendering is not.”

We did, each of us positioning ourselves in the open.

“You call that a magical focus?” he taunted, gesturing at my spear. “Looks like the shitstick my maid uses to clean the guest outhouse.”

“Does the job,” I said. 

It also wasn’t a magical focus, but I neglected to mention that part.

“You came in with that Blue chick, didn’t you?” Thaddeus said, twirling his staff. “There’s a price on her head, you know. Wonder if she’ll come for you when you’re bleeding out on the floor.”

The bluster was unimportant. Even if I wasn’t a healer, there were healers on hand in case any part of the exam ended up injuring someone.

What caught my attention was him mentioning Mizuki.

There was a price on her head? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Before I could ask for clarification, a thin white barrier formed between both of us.

“Begin!” the proctor ordered.