The Interviews Continue

The hall fell silent again.

Falsh stood by the door, his gaze sweeping over the remaining examinees behind his round-framed glasses, his voice steady.

"Next up, Duncan."

Duncan stepped toward the door.

His steps were steady, his face expressionless, only his cloudy eyes reflected the light, fragmented by the stained glass windows, streaming in through the high windows.

The door closed behind them.

A field of blooming flowers, the scent of damp earth, and Serie sitting barefoot by the pond, her back to the doorway.

The water was clear, just above her ankles. Her long, golden hair cascaded down her back, the ends almost touching the water's surface.

She didn't turn around.

"Duncan."

Her voice rang out in the empty flower-filled room, carrying a casual tone.

"Court Mage served in the military, climbing the ranks step by step through bloodshed and political struggles..."

Duncan stopped a few steps away from her, his cloudy eyes watching her back, his expression unchanged.

You know me.

"Who wouldn't know?"

Serie gently swayed her feet, which were submerged in the water, creating tiny ripples. Her profile appeared somewhat hazy in the light streaming through the stained-glass window.

"To be honest, I prefer to meet you when you were young. Ambitious, full of vigor... like a young lion cub, unaware of its own limitations but certainly possessing claws. Back then, your eyes burned with fire, as if the whole world should be trampled underfoot. That kind of magician was truly interesting."

She paused, her tone carrying an undisguised hint of regret.

"It's a pity he's just a wretched old man now. His magic is still somewhat solid, but his spirit has been worn away. I really have no interest in a guy who's exhausted and on his last legs."

Duncan's expression remained unchanged.

He simply watched Serie's retreating figure silently, his cloudy eyes revealing no emotion. After a few seconds, he slowly spoke, his voice steady, showing no sign of being offended.

That's a real shame.

Serie suddenly chuckled softly.

The laughter was soft, yet exceptionally clear in the quiet flower field.

"But..."

She changed the subject, still not turning around, but only slightly turning her face, her golden hair slipping down her shoulder with the movement.

"The moment you saw me... you thought about how to fight me, didn't you?"

Duncan paused for a moment.

The silence was brief, almost imperceptible.

"... it was only a fleeting moment."

He admitted, his voice remaining steady.

"Then I gave up. The gap was too big."

The water made a soft sound.

Serie lifted one foot from the pool, glistening water droplets dripping down her fair ankle and slender toes, refracting tiny sparkles in the sunlight. She didn't wipe them away, but simply dangled the water in, letting it fall back into the pool and create small ripples.

Then she turned around, her bare feet touching the damp earth, and faced Duncan.

For the first time, those golden eyes truly and completely focused on him. There was no longer any disdain or regret in them, but instead a pure, almost admiring, inquiry.

You've passed.

She announced it casually, yet with an undeniable resolve.

I take back what I said earlier.

You're not completely exhausted yet.

Duncan looked at her.

Thank you.

He didn't ask any further questions, nor did he show any extra emotion. He simply turned around calmly, pushed open the door, and left.

The door slowly closed.

Serie sat back down by the pool, dipped her feet into the cool water, and looked down at her reflection shimmering on the surface.

"Next, Ubel."

Ubel walked in with his usual faint smile on his face and light steps.

The door closed.

Serie was still sitting by the pool with her back to the door, a pale purple flower that she had just picked appearing in her hand, and she was smelling its fragrance.

She didn't even look up when she heard footsteps.

"You passed."

Ubel stopped, blinked his green eyes, and his smile deepened.

"Huh?"

She tilted her head, her tone light and cheerful.

"We haven't said anything yet!"

Serie brought the flower in her hand to her nose and smelled it. Her voice came through the petals, somewhat indistinct, yet exceptionally clear.

Is it necessary?

Ubel paused for a moment, then her surprise turned into a deeper smile. She chuckled softly, shook her head, and her green ponytail swayed gently with the movement.

"All right."

She readily agreed, her tone conveying understanding.

"Indeed."

She didn't say another word, turned around, and left the room with light steps.

"Next, Lanto."

Lanto adjusted his glasses and walked in calmly.

This time, Serie did not sit by the pool.

She stood in the middle of the flower field, her back to the entrance, her head slightly tilted back, seemingly admiring the light and shadow cast by the stained-glass windows. Her bare feet sank into the soft soil, and several clusters of small, white, unnamed flowers bloomed at her feet.

Hearing the noise behind her, she did not turn around immediately.

The silence lasted for a few seconds.

The only sounds in the room were a faint breeze and the distant, indistinct sound of flowing water.

Then, Serie spoke.

"Are you kidding me?"

She slowly turned around, her golden eyes falling on Lanto, sizing him up from head to toe.

"This is the First-Class Mage Exam."

"How could there be an idiot who didn't even show up at the exam location?"

Lanto stood still, his gaze behind his glasses flickering almost imperceptibly.

His face remained expressionless as he calmly met Serie's scrutinizing gaze.

Then he spoke, his voice as steady as his person.

"Just as you said."

"This is the First-Class Mage Exam."

As soon as he finished speaking—

On the other side of the room, the tightly closed door was gently pushed open from the outside.

Another "Lanto" walked in through the door with the same steady steps.

He walked over to "Lanto," who had entered first, and stopped. The two men were identical in appearance, clothing, and even expression, like two sides of a mirror.

The later "Lanto" pushed up glasses that weren't actually on his nose and looked calmly at Serie.

"Therefore, my true form has also arrived here."

Serie looked at the two "Lantos " standing side by side, her golden eyes showing no surprise, but rather a deeper, almost bored expression.

She crossed her arms, lightly rubbed her bare feet in the mud, and spoke with undisguised sarcasm.

"Don't joke around."

She pointed to the "Lanto" that had entered later.

"Your true form..."

Her fingertips moved slowly, eventually pointing outside the room in a distant direction, and she clearly announced a place name.

"... I'm currently in my hometown, sitting on a chair in the courtyard in front of my house, basking in the afternoon sun, drinking black tea with way too much sugar."

Both "Lanto" bodies simultaneously revealed genuine and clear expressions of surprise.

"... Truly amazing."

He spoke in a low voice, as if talking to himself, yet also as if speaking to Serie.

Even Ubel couldn't see through this.

Serie raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.

"What, you think highly of Ubel?"

Lanto paused for a moment, not answering directly, but simply adjusting his glasses to avoid the question.

Serie didn't ask any further questions. She simply waved her hand, stepped barefoot out of the flower field, and onto the dry stone pavement.

"You passed."

She announced, her tone returning to its previous calm.

"A mage who knows how to protect themselves and leave themselves a way out is not bad."

The two "Lantos " quietly left the room, one after the other.

The door closed.

Serie stood alone in the center of the empty flower-field room and shook her head.

"There are all sorts of strange guys out there this year."