Promotion Examination (Part 1)

"Wow—" Dozens of people in the hall, whether venerable old mages or rosy-cheeked mage apprentices, all gaped in shock, mouths wide enough to fit a fist.

What was going on?

Had they heard wrong?

That absurdly arrogant rookie mage apprentice was actually demanding a promotion trial on his very first day at the Stormwind Academy of Arcane Arts?

No matter how arrogant or overbearing he was... there had to be a limit!

Yet Duke dared!

They had heard Duke had only been confirmed to possess magical talent a few days ago. If Duke truly succeeded, Khadgar would be ashamed to death. He had studied for eight years and still was not an official mage, while someone else was challenging for the title of mage after only three days of study.

Whether Duke succeeded or failed, this would undoubtedly leave a deep mark for him at the Stormwind Royal Academy of Arcane Arts.

Success—he would become famous throughout the academy, and every mage in Stormwind would know that a super genius had emerged here.

Failure—he would still become famous throughout the academy, but as a byword for "overestimating himself." Duke would be nailed to the pillar of shame forever.

For a moment, everyone's breathing grew heavy.

Medivh asked with gentle refinement, "You know the passing requirements. Then, mage apprentice Duke Marcus, are you sure you wish to undergo the trial now?"

"I'm sure!" Duke said with absolute determination.

"Very well." Medivh opened his right hand and murmured a soft incantation. An unusual azure glow immediately lit up in his palm. Like a flame buffeted by a gale, that blue light began drifting out of Medivh's hand.

The brilliant radiance turned into fluttering ribbons, easily sealing off a circular space more than ten meters across with Duke at its center.

Whether viewed from within or from outside, the scenery showed no change whatsoever.

Only Duke, as the person involved, knew just how terrifying Medivh's method was.

System prompt: "Warning! You have been dragged by Medivh (Sargeras) into an unknown independent space."

Fortunately, Medivh bore no hostility. He even wore a gentle smile.

"This is a relatively independent space, but it will not interfere with your communication with the Elemental Plane. Mr. Marcus, you may begin. As long as you cast any three different Level 1 spells without using magical items, you will become an official mage of the Stormwind Royal Academy of Arcane Arts."

Duke took a deep breath and prepared to begin his attempt.

At that moment, he saw Daniel and Itana's concerned faces. He did not need to ask to know that they were urging him not to push himself so hard—not to draw so much attention and provoke the old mages.

Duke could only smile bitterly.

He had no choice but to fight! He simply did not have the money to stay at the academy and study single-mindedly. To make money, he had to leave. Even with Medivh's promise, if he temporarily left the academy as an apprentice, the conservative forces throughout the Stormwind Kingdom would surely join forces to attack him outside.

Even if he could resurrect and run back to retrieve his corpse, it would not help.

The death of an apprentice during a wilderness trial was no big deal.

But it was different for an official mage. Even the lowest-ranking novice mage would have his name automatically entered into the Stormwind Kingdom Mage Corps, brought to the attention of the kingdom's supreme commander, Lothar, and the Stormwind Kingdom's king, Llane.

Add his reputation as a prodigy, and he would have no choice but to attract attention.

If both the king and commander were watching him, neither nobles nor the mages who hated him could openly strike at him as they pleased.

That was Duke's protective talisman.

It would be enough to see him through the most dangerous "newbie period."

Duke drew a deep breath. He was ready to cast.

The nanny-like spellcasting demonstrated by the crystal ball in the apprentice trial was generally impossible for an apprentice to reproduce. No apprentice could possess such keen magical perception as to reverse-engineer an entire set of things from a fixed, incomparably complex casting device—incantations, spell formulas, methods of contacting the Elemental Plane, and more.

Under normal circumstances, this was as unreliable as asking a newborn baby to fight lions and tigers.

Every mage present knew that Duke had never obtained even half a spell formula through any official channel.

But the moment Duke began chanting, the mages were dumbfounded.

They could never have known that, at this very moment, Duke had even allowed the system to control his tongue, while his consciousness had long practiced the awkward incantation in the system no fewer than a thousand times, like singing along to karaoke subtitles.

What flowed from Duke's lips was incomparably standard High Elven.

The rises and falls carried a mysterious beauty. The key syllables were rapid and brief, yet incomparably precise. Without the aid of a magical item, Duke could clearly feel as though he were an opened faucet, his mental strength and stamina rapidly draining away.

Yet he could distinctly sense that his body and soul had established a stable connection with a world of another dimension—the Elemental Plane.

A scorching aura swiftly surged forth, gathering rapidly around his arm.

Everyone could see that an enormous fireball was taking shape in Duke's hand.

"[Fireball]? No! That's... [Pyroblast]!!" The surrounding mages could not help crying out in amazement.

How old had they been when they first successfully cast [Pyroblast]? Surely none of them had done so before the age of twenty. Yet this half-grown boy had actually pulled it off.

Not a trace of excess elemental power leaked out. The amount of power he drew in was simply precise to the extreme!

Could such control truly come from an apprentice who had awakened magical power less than three days ago?

"Hah!" As if to slap Medivh in the face, this vat-sized [Pyroblast] smashed straight at Medivh's head.

To a powerful Guardian, this was nothing at all. Medivh did not even move a finger. The blue radiance enveloping Duke flared, and everyone watched as Duke's fiery [Pyroblast] was completely erased.

"You completed the first spell very well." Medivh immediately gave his verdict. Then he noticed the beads of sweat running down Duke's forehead. "Do you need to rest? The official novice mage examination has a time limit of one hour."

"No!" Duke chose to continue. Though the system prompt showed his pitiful mana had fallen from its initial maximum of 26/26 to 12/26, Duke did not stop.

He had a vague premonition that if he continued squeezing out his potential, some sort of breakthrough might occur.

Shaking his head, Duke threw the fatigue and dejection from his mind. Coordinating with his gestures, he formed a soft pale-blue glow in his hand. Even from over ten meters away, the mages could clearly feel the icy chill radiating from the sphere of light in Duke's palm.

[Frostbolt]!