I Think You're Very Cute. May I Hug You?

However, not every mage had been intimidated by the sight.

There was no shortage of daring adventurers in the group. Or perhaps some had guessed the purpose behind Lord Serie's actions and stepped forward confidently.

Sure enough, when one of the mages taking the test unleashed all his mana, the previously impenetrable Magic Barrier showed faint signs of merging around him.

The mage boldly began to test it. First one hand, then his entire body, until he finally stepped through the barrier.

"Just as I thought. My guess was correct."

Having passed through the barrier, the mage's confidence soared as he headed straight into the hall.

Outside the barrier, the mage candidates who saw this immediately understood. One after another, they unleashed all their mana and attempted to cross it.

However, not every mage could pass through this barrier.

Take the apprentice mages at the front of the line, for example. Some had their hands flung back by the barrier before they could even get them through, their mana unstable; others fared even worse, unable to so much as breach the barrier's wall even after unleashing all their mana.

"So this is how Serie selects mages," Guter murmured as he observed from the side.

After the mages ahead of him had all made their attempts, it was Guter's turn.

Unlike the other mages, who unleashed all their mana from the start, Guter held back slightly. Once he realized the mana he was releasing was enough to pass through the barrier, he stopped increasing it.

Perhaps because his mana had only just met the threshold, Guter passed through the barrier a little more slowly than the previous few, but it caused no real problem.

Once inside the barrier, only thirteen mages remained ahead of Guter.

A few mages at the back of the line smiled at Guter as he caught up, and Guter politely returned their goodwill.

Perhaps because they had just passed the first round of selection, the candidates were all in fairly good spirits. They waited in orderly fashion outside the hall for the mages being interviewed by Serie herself to emerge.

They did not have to wait long.

Less than a minute later, the mage candidate who had been the first to break through the barrier emerged from the hall with a dark expression.

"Did it not go well, Wilt?"

Another mage in the group, apparently an acquaintance of his, spoke up to ask.

"Yeah."

Despite his poor mood, Wilt still answered. "That lady is far stricter than I imagined."

With that, Wilt passed through the barrier without looking back and left.

The candidates, who had previously been quite confident, fell silent after Wilt's unfavorable start.

"Next."

Serie's emotionless voice came from within the hall. The mage behind Wilt swallowed hard and walked in nervously.

"In that state, he'll probably fail too," Guter silently analyzed. Magic was a realm of imagination, after all. How could a mage who lacked confidence in whether he could become Serie's disciple possibly pass her test?

Sure enough, Serie's interview with this one was even faster than Wilt's had been.

He had not even reached Serie's side within the hall before the result was announced.

"Unqualified. Next."

The second candidate seemed to want to argue, but after Serie glanced at him, he trembled his way out of the hall without even responding to the others' questions.

Watching the two mages before him get eliminated one after the other, the third mage in line felt pressure coil around him like a python. His back was drenched in sweat.

In such a tense state of mind, he began to doubt whether he could truly become the disciple of Lord Serie, who seemed to have stepped out of myth.

And once doubt arose, the outcome was already predictable.

"Unqualified. Next."

"Unqualified. Next."

"Unqualified. Get out."

"Passable. Your mentality is fairly firm, but your mana reserves are far too poor."

"Provisionally rated as a Third-class Mage. Next."

"Unqualified. You can't even remain standing before my mana?"

"Truly awful. Next."

And so, Serie ruthlessly eliminated one mage after another. Not a single First-class Mage meeting her requirements—or rather, a disciple—had yet been determined.

Until all the mages ahead had finished their interviews, and it was Guter's turn to enter the hall and face Serie.

It would be a lie to say that Guter felt no pressure at this moment.

But unlike the other candidates, who were pressured by doubts over whether they could pass the test, Guter was more excited to meet Serie, this Magic Old Timer. Or rather, he was excited that he would no longer need to deliberately hide among the crowd and could finally embrace social interaction and a new life.

Clenching his fist, Guter pushed open the wooden doors to the hall and walked inside.

Within the hall, the overwhelmingly powerful fluctuations of mana around Serie instantly made Guter feel a pressure as immense as mountains.

This pressure was not something Guter had imagined. It came from a creature's instinctive awareness of danger.

Even if the one standing beside Serie were not a mage capable of sensing mana, but merely an ordinary civilian who knew nothing about magic, they would still feel the same way.

Yet Guter did not consciously fear Serie. Instead, he steadily walked toward her, one step at a time.

"Oh?"

Has an interesting one finally appeared? His conviction is firm, and for someone his age, his mana reserves are quite decent.

But what is this faint sense of danger?

Serie's gaze was no longer casual. She became slightly more serious as she examined the boy before her from head to toe.

I see. Aside from mage training, he is also training as a warrior.

Hmph. What a waste of talent. He would be better off devoting all his effort to the study of magic.

"Lord Serie."

Before the throne, Guter gave Serie a slight nod.

"Wait." Serie suddenly spoke. She felt that faint sense of danger seemed to be more than just that.

"When you look at me, do you have some thought in mind?"

Faced with the question from Serie, the "Magic Old Timer," Guter hesitated briefly before voicing his true thoughts.

"Um..."

"I think you're very cute. May I hug you?"

"Eh?"

Even Serie, who stood at the pinnacle of mages, was caught off guard by Guter's answer, her face showing astonishment.

"I refuse."

"What kind of freaks are mages these days?"

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The ancestor's emoticon seems to get distorted after being entered. Damn it.

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