Chapter: 74. Magic Detection (5K3)
“Lord Hinata, is this really okay?”
In the strategy meeting room of the Star Academy.
Mana had just finished reporting on recent extraordinary disasters, and the attendees had gradually left, leaving only her and the team leader standing beside her.
The latter’s green hair was now bathed in the orange glow of the sunset, shimmering with a warm blend of gold and light orange.
She was looking at Mana’s back, her expression hesitant, as if she had been struggling internally for some time.
Finally, she stepped forward and asked in a low voice.
“How is it?” Mana turned her head and replied calmly.
Immediately, Mana saw the stack of documents the team leader was holding.
It was the information dossier concerning the first-year student, “Kamishiro Akane.”
“It’s about what happened in the training ground…” the team leader spoke in a hushed tone, her voice tinged with clear anxiety.
“You are currently the ‘Chairman’ of the Star Academy. If people find out that you are giving special attention to a first-year student in private, it might cause unnecessary turmoil…”
She was referring to the incident where Mana met Kamishiro Akane at the training ground not long ago.
At that time, the team leader was right next to Mana, and since Mana didn’t shy away from it, she naturally knew every detail.
However, unlike the team leader who wore a worried and anxious expression, Mana remained extraordinarily calm.
“She is not an ordinary first-year student.” Mana turned around, her tone unhurried: “She possesses an unprecedented special ability.”
“I know that very well! The ability to merge authority and soul—indeed unheard of, but the problem isn’t that…”
The team leader placed the document she was holding on the table, then pushed it in front of Mana.
“The problem is that she is our competitor!”
“She is one of the candidates for the ‘Dual Kings Program’! We all know that this program doesn’t allow for two ‘Kings’ within one faction! If she ultimately becomes the ‘King’ representing the Star Academy—”
“—I will not have the chance to become the other ‘King’,” Mana calmly interjected.
“Exactly!”
The team leader subconsciously nodded, as if finally voicing her concerns, “So Lord Hinata, you really shouldn’t—”
Her words were cut off by an unexpected response from Mana:
“Then it doesn’t matter.”
“…Wh-what?” The team leader widened her eyes in disbelief, thinking she misheard, and after a long moment, she slowly spoke again, her tone filled with incredulity.
“For me, titles and status have never been the most important things.” Mana slowly turned around, her gaze crossing the floor-to-ceiling windows of the meeting room, watching the sun gradually sink below the horizon.
“As long as I can protect this world, whether it’s being an ‘S-Class Esper,’ a ‘King,’ a ‘Protagonist,’ or even just an ordinary esper—I am willing to believe in them.” The golden-red glow of the sunset cast on her profile, reflecting in her eyes, which were as clear as rubies, with starlight gradually descending along with the night.
“If the Star Academy is destined to have a ‘King’—then perhaps she is the most suitable candidate.”
“Because once she becomes the ‘King,’ then neither I nor Hikaru will have another chance to sit in that position.”
At this moment, Mana hit the nail on the head.
“And if I can successfully approach Kamishiro Akane and get her on our side, that would be the best outcome.” Mana continued, her voice devoid of hesitation: “Then we’ll have another ‘King’-level ally beside us to help protect this world.”
The team leader fell silent.
She knew Mana’s points were entirely correct, but driven by her selfish feelings, she still hoped Mana could become one of the Dual Kings.
The team leader lowered her gaze, her voice softening, yet she still stubbornly tried to argue:
“…But she was actively nominated by Hikaru.”
This was her last struggle; she thought Mana would hesitate at this point.
However, the latter responded almost immediately, “Then we should pull her to our side before Hikaru takes action.”
As Mana spoke, she slowly turned her head, her ruby-like eyes reflecting the team leader’s face:
“To prevent an accident like the ‘Stellar Conference Incident’ from happening again.”
Having experienced the Stellar Conference Incident, how could Mana not realize—within the Star Academy, even among the S-Class espers, there were hidden traitors.
Moreover, these individuals were likely acting on Hikaru’s orders.
She had known Hikaru for more than three years but had never been able to discern what his true intentions were or which side he stood on.
Yet, one thing was clear through the Stellar Conference incident—she was not on his “trusted” list.
Because of this, aside from this trusted confidant standing before her, Mana found it almost impossible to trust any other S-Class esper or senior personnel in the Star Academy easily.
Of course, she also had no plans for an outright confrontation with Hikaru for the time being.
Because before fully clarifying Hikaru’s true intentions and behind-the-scenes plans, taking rash action would only trigger more severe chain reactions.
The operations of the Star Academy could thus come to a halt, and the repercussions could even affect T-Empire SE and the other two academies. At that point, the true benefactors would probably be the fantasy monsters.
That was a situation she could never accept.
It was not what Mana wanted to see.
“Hikaru…” Mana silently repeated the name in her mind, her expression slightly dimming.
She couldn’t understand why he would hide these things from her… Clearly, she was the one he personally introduced to the Star Academy, the one he personally promoted to an S-Class esper, and even became—Chairman of the Star Academy and captain of the S-Class esper team.
If he didn’t trust her from the very beginning, then why invest so much in her?
“…What are you planning?”
—————–
Star Academy, Main Gymnasium.
This smooth, slightly futuristic silver building was currently bathing in the bright midday sun, its vaulted ceiling reflecting the unique brightness of the island.
The Star Academy was set to hold the “Practical Assessment” in the main gymnasium today.
For the students of the Star Academy, this was a critically important assessment.
Only by passing this assessment could they officially be recognized as combat-capable “espers,” assigned a corresponding esper level, and thus qualify to carry out actual missions and participate in combating fantasy monsters.
Each installment of the “Practical Assessment” nearly always attracts a large number of students eager to sign up.
However, most do not participate to become espers or to gain the right to join missions.
Their goals were simpler—they just wanted to use the opportunity to understand their actual esper level.
For these students, this assessment felt like a large exam or a performance summary report.
Even if they couldn’t pass, they could still obtain some clear feedback, understand their current strength level, and perhaps discover a more suitable way to utilize their esper abilities.
Therefore, on assessment day, the main gymnasium was always bustling with crowds.
Students wanting to test their own strength, those curious about their own esper status, and those hoping to find inspiration from others’ combat styles—all kinds of students gathered here, crowding the gym.
Of course, to avoid resource waste, the academy had also set clear participation thresholds.
Not everyone could join.
Third-year and fourth-year students nearing “graduation” and “internships” could naturally participate without conditions.
However, first-year and second-year students had to pass the “Magic Detection” first, ensuring their magic content and strength reached the designated standards before they could participate in the “Practical Assessment.”
Although it seemed that the requirement was not low, a large number of students still rushed here because—
To test their magic.
The “Magic Detection” had, unknowingly, become one of the segments where first-year and second-year students showed off their prowess; although it was as childish as comparing test scores, they still delighted in it.
In the long line leading to the gym, Shiraishi and Naginami were also in one corner of the queue.
As a first-year student, Naginami naturally could not enjoy the higher-grade privileges.
Shiraishi was only a second-year student, but she did not plan to participate in the “Practical Assessment,” simply accompanying Naginami in this long line.
The wait in line felt rather long.
For the third time, Shiraishi still couldn’t help but turn back, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she asked quietly:
“Naginami-chan, are you really sure you can pass the Magic Detection?”
Shiraishi had gotten to know Naginami’s situation was somewhat special during their time together and training.
Her magic content was likely not even enough to meet the minimum line for the detection.
“Should we go find a teacher to explain the situation? Maybe demonstrate your strength before them, so they might make an exception and allow you to participate in the subsequent ‘Practical Assessment’?”
Shiraishi had lost count of how many times she’d suggested this.
However, as usual, Naginami simply shook her head gently.
“It’s okay, Shiraishi-senpai, don’t worry. I have my plans,” Naginami responded with a soothing tone, trying to calm her concerned senpai.
She understood very well why Shiraishi was so anxious.
After all—technically speaking, she was still an “unawakened esper,” an ordinary student.
All of her extraordinary powers came from the three “authorities” merged within her soul.
And these would not be reflected in the usual magic detection data, so Naginami’s data in this aspect could be described as dismal.
As a result, Shiraishi had always hoped Naginami could privately explain her situation to a teacher and demonstrate her abilities in front of them, hoping to earn the right to take part in the “Practical Assessment” as an exception.
But that was not part of Naginami’s plan.
What she needed was a truly “stunning debut.”
Only by making a remarkable impression in front of a crowd could she maximize her recognition and presence.
To ensure she had the chance to become an “S-Class Esper” in the future, she needed to leave a deep impression on everyone present, as well as the higher-ups from T-Empire SE and the three major academies.
Being an “S-Class Esper” was the pinnacle among espers; if she couldn’t showcase “genius” or even “monster”-level talent and potential, she might face unnecessary hurdles in the future.
Now was not the time for low-key actions.
She had to make a grand appearance—
If possible, it would be even better to stage a “pretending to be weak while secretly powerful” scenario.
For instance, someone could show up thinking they’re better, provoke her, and insult her, only for her to easily defeat them in the subsequent Practical Assessment in front of everyone—this was her ideal script.
To make this play more captivating, she even deliberately waited for the most crowded moment to arrive at the gym and line up.
Not just for “exposure,” but also to increase the chances of being challenged.
However, reality did not align with Naginami’s expectations at all.
Though there were many gazes falling upon her… No, that description is a bit conservative; to be more accurate, there were an overwhelming number of them.
Almost regardless of gender or grade, anyone whose gaze could reach her direction reflexively looked over, their attention either blatant or discreet, but ultimately they all fell upon her.
Yet among these gazes, there was a distinct lack of that hostile, provocative look Naginami hoped to see; the closest were the “lecherous” looks of admiration. The vast majority were filled with longing, envy, appreciation… and so on about her striking appearance.
Not a single person approached to strike up a conversation.
It seemed that, as the beautiful protagonist, Naginami just couldn’t encounter the kind of “bullying to a comeback” scenario?
Clearly, she was viewed by others as having “no awakened powers,” possessing a frighteningly low magic content, yet still undeservedly being one of the “candidates,” right?
Wasn’t that the perfect condition for being looked down upon and provoked?
Did these people simply fall for the charms of a cute girl and let go of their grudges and dissatisfaction?
Naginami felt a bit regretful, thinking she should have hired a couple of actors in advance to stage a classic scene of “awful seniors teasing an innocent girl.”
As the line slowly advanced,
Naginami could vaguely sense the magic fluctuations emanating from the front.
“Star Link 2,” being a galgame with notable “esper academy” themes, naturally included some common elements from esper academies, such as a “tester” that could detect each person’s magic level based on their light intensity.
This competition of numeric values was an essential part of the esper academy genre.
And the so-called “Magic Tester” was a simple extraordinary tool in principle and effect.
In the past, it served a purpose similar to a “flashlight”—injected magic would make it glow, illuminating dark spaces.
But once someone posed the question, “If it’s just for illumination, why not use a real flashlight?” it quickly exited the historical stage.
Until one day someone proposed it for “magic detection.”
During the magic detection phase,
Students are typically required to stand in front of this instrument, which resembles a crystal ball used for divination, place their palms on it, and inject as much magic as possible while trying to synchronize their own magic frequency with that of the instrument, thereby “using” this extraordinary object.
Its function was simply “to glow,” wherein the more magic injected, the more dazzling the light would be.
Thus, the Star Academy could initially estimate each person’s magic level based on the brightness.
Though this could not truly test strength, during this phase, every student would do their best to pour all their internal magic into the “tester,” so from this angle, it could provide some indication of whether the student’s magic content was sufficient.
In the extraordinary world, having sufficient magic was the foundation of everything—while this assertion might not be universally true, it applied in most cases.
Thus, the Star Academy treated magic detection as a “requirement.”
As the queue continued to move forward, Naginami was getting closer to the testing platform.
Around her, the atmosphere began to heat up.
Nearby students were showing expressions of eagerness, excitement, and anticipation—oh no, Naginami noted that the last expression was entirely missing from their faces.
After all, this test was primarily for first- and second-year students.
Most didn’t take the results too seriously; their attitudes seemed relaxed, akin to “watching their annual summary report,” without any of the tense atmosphere typical before exams.
Still, occasional small gasps of surprise sounded from the crowd.
Perhaps someone injected magic, resulting in a brightness far surpassing the others, provoking astonished reactions from their peers?
With such a thought, Naginami instinctively turned her gaze toward Shiraishi.
Though they had spent quite some time together, Naginami suddenly realized—she had never seen Shiraishi use her powers.
Was it the atmosphere that influenced her? Naginami felt curious about Shiraishi’s abilities.
“Shiraishi-senpai, have you participated in magic detection before?” Naginami tilted her head with curiosity.
“Hmm? Oh, I’ve participated a few times in my first year~” Shiraishi answered nonchalantly.
“How did you fare in the detection?”
“Probably around the ‘Pika Pika’ level.”
““…Sorry, I have no idea what that means! How can sound effects indicate brightness?!”
“Let me put it another way—around the ‘Gara Gara’ level.”
“Is the emphasis here!? That’s not the point of just swapping one sound effect for another! Only using sound effects, how am I supposed to understand what you mean?!” Naginami couldn’t help but complain.
However, Shiraishi looked at her with a puzzled expression as if trying to comprehend the strange words being said.
She then turned to greet a second-year girl standing in front of them.
“Hey, is this your first time participating in magic detection?”
“Ah, no… I’ve already participated several times…” The other girl wore round glasses and had a timid demeanor, her voice nearly drowned out by the crowd.
“Could you share your previous results? By the way, I’m at the ‘Pika Pika’ level~”
“Eh!? Wow, that’s amazing! I’m only at the ‘Pika Pika’ level…”
“They really are communicating!? Can you really gauge each other’s levels by sound effects?! What’s wrong with me?!” Naginami was instantly shocked, “Am I the weird one?!”
“That’s nice… I hope I can reach the ‘Pashi Pashi’ level this time…” the timid girl admitted shyly.
“Don’t worry; if it’s you, I’m sure you can do it! If you have any concerns, feel free to reach out to us—‘Fashion and Costume Design’—”
As Shiraishi began to introduce herself,
The previously shy girl suddenly appeared as though she had seen a black, shiny, “g”-starting insect, her expression turning to one of terror as she abruptly dashed out of the line, disappearing into the crowd without a backward glance.
“Eh? Huh? What happened? Why all of a sudden…” Shiraishi tilted her head in confusion.
At this moment, Naginami solemnly placed her hand on Shiraishi’s shoulder: “Well… for ordinary students, Shiraishi-senpai, I think you’re probably at the ‘Kasakasa’ level of existence, right?”
“Huh? What a strange comparison… How am I supposed to understand that based solely on sound effects?”
“You’re the least qualified to make comments on this!!!?”
