The Chief and the Last Seat (Part 2)

Silverleaf was earnestly reviewing the runes on the whiteboard.

He had completely abandoned any thoughts of leaving by now; instead, he was focused on making a good impression on his future boss.

Still, the Chief Student was a Chief Student for a reason.

After finishing his inspection of the runes on the board, Silverleaf immediately analyzed Angell's intentions.

The runes on the board were divided into five sections:

The first section was exceptionally simple; even without understanding runes, anyone with enough mana could achieve a rough effect just by copying it.

The second section was simple and essentially a copying task, though it required controlling the mana input—something any student who had taken rune courses could manage.

The third section was standard; it required filling in a few missing runes to achieve the spell effect, typical of a standard rune major's test.

The fourth section was somewhat difficult, requiring the actual composition of rune content to achieve the spell effect, which slightly exceeded the standard curriculum.

The fifth section was extremely difficult. Although it looked like the simple runes from the first section at a glance, it contained several hidden erroneous runes that had to be identified and corrected to make the spell work.

The question was, which section did the boss expect his employees to be able to complete?

Silverleaf stopped guessing once he reached this thought.

In any case, as long as he performed the best, he would surely be chosen, right?

Silverleaf had never disliked places where effort was rewarded.

He gripped his Rune Pen and began to copy them earnestly.

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye.

Will clicked his pocket watch with the precision of a proctor.

"Time is up," he announced.

The youths set down their Rune Pens.

The runes on the whiteboard weren't long, so two hours was more than enough; most of them had finished.

However, since everyone present was a fresh graduate, they hadn't yet realized that job hunting required initiative. Almost all of them sat obediently in their seats, waiting as if for a teacher to collect their papers.

Silverleaf was itching to move, but seeing Will open his folder and pull out a student list, he didn't rush forward rashly.

"Shall we go in order?" Will asked Angell respectfully.

Angell nodded indifferently.

"Kurt Farag," Will called out.

"Ah? Yes, here!" A youth with entirely unremarkable features stumbled forward, holding his completed Rune Board, and handed it to Angell.

"Alright, let's see the effect."

Angell said this, but instead of reading the runes directly, he walked toward the table in the center of the room.

Everyone had noticed similar tables when they first entered the Workshop and had seen guests excitedly crowding around them. Assistant Will had said it was a type of "game," but there were too many people to see what kind, and Will didn't seem to know the specifics either. At the time, the youths had been too worried about what was to come to look into it further.

Now, they watched as Angell flipped open the tabletop and inserted the Rune Board into the interior of the table, which was filled with Magic Cores.

Angell couldn't be bothered to close the lid and simply activated the runes.

Suddenly, a giant, round object appeared above the table—

A Magic Wolf?

That was a Magic Wolf, right?

In fact, while copying the runes, anyone who understood them knew they were creating a phantom of a Magic Wolf.

However, in their understanding, a Magic Wolf was a beast that had grown to a massive size after being eroded by Demonic Energy—fierce, terrifying, and certainly having nothing to do with "cute."

Yet, the Magic Wolf before them was round all over. Its four legs were so short that they didn't even extend past its belly, and it had a pair of ridiculous, beady eyes, tilting its head and looking at everyone with a silly expression.

"I—I didn't adjust the phantom portion of the runes!" the youth who had copied that section said in a panic.

"I know. It was designed that way from the start," Angell said. He beckoned to the boy named Kurt. "Come, why don't you try operating it yourself?"

"Operate it?"

Kurt walked to the table hesitantly and, under Angell's guidance, learned how to use the Status Panel.

Although this youth's mana value was definitely higher than Enlise's and he had received several years of orthodox magical education, and he had a general understanding of the rune content while copying it, his reaction to the Game Table was no more mature than Enlise's:

"Forward."

The Magic Wolf waddled forward, its belly leading the way.

"Backward."

The Magic Wolf cautiously moved its little legs to retreat, nearly tripping over its own tail.

"Defend."

The Magic Wolf curled itself into a ball.

"Attack."

The Magic Wolf viciously extended its claws, only to trip and fall to the ground in a clumsy heap due to a loss of balance.

"Haha!" Kurt wore a grin just as silly as the foolish-looking Magic Wolf.

It wasn't just him; most of the other boys watching had the same expression.

This was the first time they had ever felt that the runes they transcribed were so interesting.

It wasn't that they hadn't encountered Illusionary Runes before, but even in rune studies, they were rarely asked to break down runes step-by-step to control them and understand their effects.

Take this year's final exam for the rune major, for example. It included a question on Illusionary Runes that asked: "Assuming an intruder has broken into the Ancient Mansion you are guarding, write a sequence of Illusionary Runes representing a ghost to scare them off (limited to twenty runes)."

Do you know what that question was like?

It was like asking a student whose native language is English to describe a terrifying ghost using a five-character classical poem!

Furthermore, to manifest the rune effects, a massive amount of Mana from magic crystals and Magic Cores was required. Even in the City of Academies during the Magic Era, such waste was not tolerated, so the runes the students wrote were treated like essays for the teacher to grade and be done with. Most students had absolutely no concept of what kind of ghost they had actually created in their final exams.

Let alone playing with them by controlling them step-by-step like this.

The boys watched the Magic Wolf's movements with more focus than they ever had in class.

Unfortunately, they were the creators, not the Players, so while they were amused, they also had to be responsible for every action the Magic Wolf took.

Angell continued:

"Roll."

Kurt still had a smile on his face as he tried to press the keys, but his hand froze above the Keyboard.

"What's wrong? Keep going," someone urged.

I don't know what to press for "roll." No, wait, did I even write a rune for "roll"? ...Right, the second blank in the third section of runes, I messed that one up!

Kurt thought in a panic.

His fingers trembled over the keys, unable to input any Mana.

This was the first time Kurt had realized his errors in rune writing so clearly.

In the past, like all the students with mediocre grades, he would look at the exercises corrected by his teachers, copy the corrections, and move on without ever truly understanding the cause of his mistakes or what consequences they would lead to.

For the first time, Kurt desperately wanted to fix this error.

Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he looked at Angell nervously. "U-um, I think I missed a rune. Can I fix it right now?"

Angell was no teacher; he shook his head coldly. "No need. That's enough!"

Kurt's eyes instantly turned red.

The voices of the boys who had been laughing just moments ago quieted down, finally realizing the gravity of the situation.

Assistant Will remained silent for a moment before continuing to call out names: "Yodel Quinn."

A tall, thin boy walked forward, holding his Rune Slate with a nervous expression.

He hadn't filled in that blank either.

It was even worse than Kurt's; he had clearly made a mistake during the second section of Mana and image input, causing all of the Magic Wolf's movements to be skewed, as if it had a broken leg. It was funny, certainly, but the Rune Master himself couldn't bring himself to laugh.

Then came the third...

Then the fourth...

After several people in a row failed to provide a perfect answer, the atmosphere grew heavy. Many began to scrutinize their own Rune Boards, carefully pondering where they had gone wrong.

Only Silverleaf frowned.

Something was wrong!

Something was very wrong!

The order of the list in Mr. Will's hand was completely off!

Silverleaf had found it strange from the start. Why wasn't the order of the roster starting with him, the Chief Student, but with Kurt? Kurt belonged to the group of struggling students; he worked very hard, but his efforts were misplaced, so his grades were slightly better than the other struggling students, but by no standard of any roster should he have been called first.

If this were a simple exam, it wouldn't matter, but the problem was that this was a job interview!

Silverleaf didn't know what a Mage Tower interview was like, but he knew that if a group of kids were looking for odd jobs at a dock or a factory, it was best to put the oldest and strongest among them at the front!

Because an employer wasn't a teacher; he had no interest in carefully observing the skills of every single employee. When he wanted to hire a group of people from a specific place, he usually judged the general quality based on the first applicant he saw.

Most importantly, the students' skill levels didn't actually differ that much.

In a single grade, you wouldn't find a genius capable of forbidden spells mixed in with a talentless waste without any Mana. The difference was mostly between better Rune Apprentices and worse ones. If the initial performance was poor, the employer would conclude that everyone was a "poor Rune Apprentice," and even when they saw a "better Rune Apprentice," they would just think, so that's all there is to it.

When it came down to it, why bring the bottom-tier students first!

If they wanted to solve the employment issue, wouldn't it be better to mix the struggling students in with the main group of average performers?

If they didn't want to cooperate with the Magic Workshop, couldn't the Magic Association just refuse?

Or was this Mr. Will's personal doing?!

Silverleaf looked at Will.

Having realized that his situation wasn't as dire as he had imagined, Silverleaf's brain had completely calmed down, bringing to the surface various doubts he had noticed before but never deeply considered.

Why did Mr. Will, who was usually so "amiable," not offer a single explanation for this distribution?

Why had he wanted to ask Will about the situation, yet failed to find a single opportunity during the three days on the train?

Why had Will dragged his feet the entire journey, only to suddenly become "out of time" the moment they arrived at the Alchemy Workshop?

The more Silverleaf thought about it, the stranger it felt.

Just then, as if sensing Silverleaf's gaze, Will looked toward him, revealing the same encouraging smile he had always shown, and called out his name:

"Silverleaf."

It was his turn.