NOVPUBThough they called it an exam, the process itself wasn’t long.
It was closer to a project presentation.
Because it had been announced in advance, each student came prepared with their own custom-designed magic square, based on the content Ludger had taught in class.
This session was meant for them to demonstrate those results—not just to Ludger, but also to their fellow students.
“Before we begin, you should’ve all drawn your numbers.”
Before entering the training grounds, students had randomly picked number slips. That would determine their order for presenting.
“Let’s get started. Number 1, step forward.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Called by Ludger, the first student—a boy—stiffly walked to the front.
He’d drawn the unfortunate first slot, and his nerves showed in his rigid steps.
But no one laughed at him. No sane person would laugh at something that could be them in a matter of minutes.
Most just silently thanked the stars it wasn’t them.
‘I mean, I did prepare...’
‘But what if someone else shows up with something way more impressive?’
‘Damn it. I should’ve put in more effort...’
Those who had skimped on preparation were now quietly panicking.
Meanwhile, the first student began demonstrating his magic square.
“Um, I modified the magic square to include elemental properties, so I can manifest elements on demand when needed.”
He gestured beside him, where a parchment lay, and above it, a small flame flickered.
He had embedded fire-elemental manifestation into a magic square.
The flame didn’t flare up wildly—it stayed steady and stable. The output could be adjusted up or down as needed.
While it couldn’t reach extreme levels, it looked more than capable of boiling water.
The shape of the square was... still a square. No meaningful changes from what Ludger had taught.
“Good. I’ve seen enough. I’ll give you your score.”
Gulp.
“Scores range from A+ to F. Yours is... a D-.”
“Wait, what?!”
Maybe he had been expecting a C at least.
The student’s face froze in disbelief.
“P-Professor? Did you just say... D-?”
“You seem confused. Let me clarify: your magic square certainly has practical uses.”
It could function as a magical stovetop—something like a gas burner. If mass-produced, it might even be popular in homes.
But that was all it was.
“You left the square diagram untouched. Only fiddled with the internal numbers. You didn’t even try to innovate—just picked the safest, most boring route possible.”
Sure, the detail of controlling heat output was commendable. But was that really such a novel idea? Would no one else have thought of it?
It had no major flaws. But that was the problem—it was too unremarkable.
“You avoided risk and chose to slightly tweak a working design. But what do you think I taught you magic squares for? And now you’re disappointed in your score?”
“N-No, sir.”
“My scores are logical and fair. You should be grateful you didn’t get an E.”
The student couldn’t say a word in response.
Head hung low, he slunk back to his place.
The watching students felt cold sweat trickle down their backs.
Most of them had chosen the safe route, just like that student.
“Next. Number 2.”
Ludger’s gaze grew even sharper.
Apparently, that first student had rubbed him the wrong way, and now the tension in the air had intensified.
I’m screwed.
The second student muttered to himself, shoulders drooping.
* * *
“This is way too intense.”
Watching one student after another present their magic squares, Leo clicked his tongue.
The suffocating atmosphere made him wonder if they’d even be able to speak properly, let alone present what they’d prepared.
At this rate, it felt more like a march to the gallows than a school exam.
“Aidan. You ready?”
“Me? Uh, yeah. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I did my best. But no one really knows what the result will be, right? Maybe it’ll turn out okay.”
“If you end up with a low score, don’t come crying to me.”
“Well, if that happens, there’s nothing I can do. I just have to live with it.”
Aidan’s easygoing smile made Leo sigh again, despite himself.
No regrets? What kind of idealistic response was that?
As a diehard realist, Leo just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
Strangely enough, Iona—standing beside Leo—nodded in quiet approval.
“That’s a good attitude to have.”
“Oh, thanks!”
As Aidan thanked her, Taishy suddenly blurted out, as if feeling left behind.
“H-Hmph! Well... Aidan’ll probably get a C+, at least! Don’t get too discouraged.”
Leo stared at her like she’d just grown a second head.
Seriously?
At a time when she should be cheering her friend on to aim for an A, she settled for C+?
What made it funnier was that Taishy wore a proud look on her face—clearly convinced she’d just been wonderfully supportive.
‘Yeah. That’s Taishy Friad, all right.’
Always terrible at expressing her feelings. Always misunderstood.
Thankfully, Aidan had the kind of personality that took everything in stride.
“Thanks, Taishy. That means a lot.”
He even smiled back at her.
Taishy blushed, quickly averting her gaze.
Leo snorted and laced his fingers behind his head.
“Hey, Aidan. What number are you?”
“Me? I’m number 13.”
“Thirteen?”
That’s... sooner than expected.
And right as that thought crossed Leo’s mind, Ludger’s voice rang out from across the training ground.
“Next—Number 13. Step forward.”
“...That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Oh! You’re right! That’s my number!”
“What do you mean, ‘you’re right’?! He’s calling you! Go!”
Leo shoved Aidan’s back, and the boy stumbled forward with an “O-oh?” until he stood before Ludger.
“Aidan. You’re number 13?”
“Yes, sir!”
Even someone as easygoing as Aidan couldn’t help but feel intimidated in front of Ludger’s commanding presence.
Ludger narrowed his eyes, then gave a curt nod of his chin.
“Show me the magic square you’ve prepared.”
“Ah, yes!”
“Just so you know—the students before you were all disappointments. I expect better from you.”
...Was that supposed to be encouraging? Because it felt more like immense pressure.
Aidan swallowed hard and pulled out his parchment.
“...Hm?”
For the first time, Ludger’s expression shifted with curiosity.
“Aidan.”
“Y-Yes, sir?”
“Are you seriously planning to use this for your test?”
“This? Yes, of course!”
Aidan answered without hesitation.
Ludger’s eyes narrowed further.
Because the magic square Aidan had drawn was based on a circle.
“I taught you how to construct magic squares, not magic circles.”
Magic circles and magic squares were fundamentally different.
A square meant breaking away from traditional circular formations—a new method of spell construction.
But Aidan had gone back to the traditional form, proudly submitting a design based on a circle.
“...What exactly are you trying to do here?”
“I spent a long time thinking about it.”
Aidan carefully unrolled his parchment onto the ground.
From the day Ludger had taught them about magic squares, Aidan hadn’t gone a single day without wrestling with the question.
What kind of result is Professor Ludger expecting?
What kind of method would make for a good magic square?
The original model he’d been taught used squares. Should he try something different? A pentagon? A hexagon? Maybe even a star?
But Aidan had shaken his head.
Those were shallow, one-dimensional ideas.
He knew his own limits better than anyone.
He was still a rookie.
If he tried something like that and got it wrong, he’d surely bomb the test.
What, then, was he supposed to do?
“In the end, I just did what I’m good at.”
Aidan laughed awkwardly as he channeled mana into the magic circle.
Only then did Ludger realize that the circle Aidan had drawn was different from an ordinary magic circle.
What was inscribed within wasn’t a flattened diagram of a spell—it was the very letters and numbers Ludger had taught.
“Digging into one path with stubborn, foolish persistence.”
Soon, light began to flow from the magic circle, radiating warm energy all around.
Like a ripple, the warmth spread in an instant, filling the practice chamber.
“This is the best I can do, sir.”
What Aidan had brought was none other than a concentric magic circle.
Standing upright, as if he had nothing more to show, Aidan looked straight at Ludger.
Ludger stroked his chin. Aidan swallowed hard at the sight.
“Aidan.”
“Yes, sir?”
“B+.”
“S-Sir?”
“I said, B+.”
Aidan thought he must have misheard at first.
After seeing everyone else barely scraping by with D’s and E’s, he had been praying silently for at least a C.
But Ludger had just looked at his work and awarded him something even higher.
“You boldly mixed traditional circles with an entirely new structure. That spirit of challenge—I rate it highly. And you didn’t just merge them; you applied the concentric form to ripple the mana outward. That’s fundamentally different from standard forms. You also significantly improved its stability to keep the mana from veering off course.”
Ludger had seen straight through Aidan—right down to what he was thinking as he built the thing.
Aidan focused intently on every word of advice.
“The magic circle I developed has the advantage of fitting together neatly, but that also makes it feel a bit stifling. It’s rigid, not fluid. But you offset that flaw by incorporating the flowing circle.”
“Th-Thank you.”
Aidan never dreamed he’d hear Ludger speak praise like this. It felt surreal.
“However. That said, your work isn’t without its flaws.”
Of course. There’s no way he’d only give praise.
Aidan gave a bitter smile inside, but truthfully, this was the moment he’d been waiting for most.
“The whole reason the current forms moved away from circular designs is because they’re so damned hard to draw. But you went right back to them. Doesn’t that undermine the very point of designing a magic square?”
“Ah!”
He’d gotten so focused ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) on innovation, he’d overlooked something so basic.
“S-Sorry!”
“No need to apologize. Also, the flow of the numbers inside the circle is still lacking. With a bit more fine-tuning, your result could’ve been far better.”
But given the time crunch, that part was unavoidable.
Even so, Aidan’s results were far superior to those of the twelve students who had come before him.
“Still, it’s the best I’ve seen so far.”
Those words, nearly praise, lit up Aidan’s face, while behind him, the students who had secretly been hoping for his failure let out quiet groans.
‘Him again?’
‘Damn it. Just a damn commoner.’
Ignoring their bitter thoughts, Ludger promptly called the next student.
“Number 14. Step forward.”
Number 14 hadn’t prepared properly and walked forward with the expression of someone chewing on dung.
* * *
And so, all 80 students presented the magic circles they had prepared.
Among them, a few stood out above the rest.
At first, Aidan had been one of them, but compared to what followed, even his work looked modest.
“Oh? Flora Lumos. You used multiple shapes.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
The magic circle Flora Lumos had created was composed of nine interlocking hexagons.
Far more complex than anything the other students had made, it resembled the shell of a turtle.
‘A trigram pattern... I never thought I’d see that here, of all places.’
He’d only taught the basics of magic circles, yet she’d come up with something straight out of Earth.
And the formulae inscribed inside were flawless.
There was a reason she was called a prodigy at Seorn.
“Flora Lumos. A+.”
“Heh.”
Flora Lumos casually ran a hand through her hair and gave a relaxed smile.
The students around her gasped in awe and praised her name yet again—Flora Lumos, of course.
“Julia Plumehart. A.”
“Oh my. How disappointing.”
Julia Plumehart, a promising freshman who had also been expected to do well, earned a high score for her excellent magic circle.
She ranked second, just below Flora.
Though she said it was disappointing, she didn’t look disappointed at all.
“......Erendir von Exilion. C+.”
“Tch!”
Erendir had been confident in her practical skills, but creating a magic circle was closely tied to theoretical work.
This wasn’t her strength, and she had to give up the thought of redeeming her first test failure.
Well, a C isn’t the worst. With that thought, Erendir stepped back, and Ludger shook his head as he watched her.
He still couldn’t believe she shared blood with the woman he once knew.
As if the other side of the gene pool had taken everything for itself.
“Taishy Friad. B.”
“Iona Obelli. B+.”
“Leo. B.”
Aidan’s friends had also earned high marks. Ludger was mildly surprised to see that the beastkin Iona had somehow ended up in Aidan’s group.
And finally, the last student to present her magic circle was a girl with ash-gray hair.
“Rine.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s see the magic circle you prepared.”
Visibly nervous, Rine opened her mouth as if she had come to a decision.
“I didn’t bring a parchment with a magic circle drawn on it.”
“What?”
At that bombshell, Ludger’s eyebrow twitched.
