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Chapter 16 — A Forward Fall
“Hello.”
Su Cheng offered a polite greeting. “That would be me.”
The man tilted his head, sizing her up with a faintly critical look.
His expression was languid, almost careless, yet his features were sharp and striking. Three flame-shaped crimson-gold magic sigils marked the corner of his eye, glinting in the light along with the pigeon-blood ruby on his earring.
“You’ve always been classified as top-tier?” he asked casually, glancing at the insignia on her chest. “Why are you only second-tier now?”
Su Cheng paused. “…No.”
Most people’s resonance rank was fixed during their first evaluation. Only a rare few would shift again as they grew older—and even then, it only ever rose, never fell.
But even someone with top-tier talent from childhood, at seventeen or eighteen, without proper mentorship or rare resources, becoming merely an apprentice mage was already considered decent.
Elemental magic demanded comprehension as much as talent. A lack of understanding could bury even the gifted.
Still, Ten-Star Academy was full of geniuses. Their standards were naturally higher.
“I used to be high-tier,” Su Cheng explained. “Then I started feeling something different, so I retested. It did go up.”
The red-haired man nodded. “You specialize in wind? Can you cast third-tier spells?”
“…No.”
If she could, she wouldn’t still be here standing in front of him with an apprentice badge.
He glanced at her again. “That badge of yours wasn’t just issued today, was it? Why haven’t you tried advancing to third-tier magic?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Her life had been… eventful.
First she killed someone upon arrival, then there was a succubus, then a dragon knight, then a broken engagement, and finally a divine contract to fulfill.
Busy didn’t even begin to cover it.
The red-haired man frowned slightly, as if displeased with that answer. His gaze swept over her again.
“Tch,” he said lightly. “Doesn’t look like much.”
Su Cheng looked back at him for a moment. “So this academy’s entrance exam is just based on looks? That’s efficient, I guess.”
The room went silent.
Mages sorting scrolls at nearby tables turned their heads. Some looked entertained. The archmage who had brought her in even gave her a silent thumbs-up with a faint smile.
“Hm?”
The red-haired man crossed his arms. He didn’t seem angry—just amused.
“Then come on,” he said lazily. “Let’s see what you’ve got besides that mouth.”
He paused. “I’m Xiao Yun. You might see my name in some textbooks. Call me Professor or ‘Your Excellency,’ whatever you like.”
Through his open collar, part of a tattoo was faintly visible along one side of his chest.
Black, fine lines curved across firm muscle, forming the outline of a large rounded wing pattern. The ink radiated outward like ripples from a core.
A butterfly wing?
Su Cheng’s gaze paused, drifting unconsciously toward the opening of his collar.
Mainly to see the rest of it.
Xiao Yun snapped his fingers. “Miss, eyes here.”
She looked up.
The red-haired man regarded her with a half-smile.
Su Cheng cleared her throat. “Ah—right. Yes. You can call me whatever you like, sir.”
Soft laughter rippled through the room. The other mages were whispering again, amused.
Xiao Yun watched her for a couple of seconds. “Then should I also be informed how I ought to address you?”
Only then did Su Cheng realize she had casually returned his formality—and he had matched it instantly.
“I’m Su Cheng,” she said with a slight smile. “If you prefer ‘Your Excellency’ or ‘Master,’ that’s fine too.”
More laughter broke out.
A nameless apprentice daring to say something like that in front of a renowned archmage professor—it sounded almost arrogant.
But they only took it as a child’s joke.
Xiao Yun studied her quietly.
“…Ha. Just kidding,” Su Cheng added sweetly. “Calling me by name is fine.”
He said nothing in response, turned, and kicked open the door to another room.
“Follow me.”
Su Cheng steadied herself and walked after him.
Lin Yun wasn’t a proper elemental mage. He relied on an external cheat-like old man. She couldn’t afford that kind of luxury—she had to take this seriously.
Beyond the door was a vast, open hall.
These spaces were temporary constructs formed by magic and would disappear after the recruitment period ended.
Even so, Su Cheng still felt a flicker of awe.
Six-sided stained-glass windows lined the walls, green and gold-blue light interwoven like flowing water. Crystal lamps hung high from the vaulted ceiling, scattering prismatic brilliance.
White jade columns were wrapped in carved palm leaves. The black obsidian floor was polished like a mirror, reflecting both of their figures.
“Since you have a rank and sufficient resonance,” Xiao Yun said as he walked to the center of the hall, his ruby earring swaying slightly, “we’ll test your comprehension.”
He gestured.
Golden runes erupted in midair.
“This is a wind spell created by our founding dean. You’ll learn it on the spot. You have five seconds before timing begins.”
The floor lit up in concentric waves. A massive blue-green magic circle unfolded beneath them.
Wind spirits laughed as they surged in, dancing along the edges of the formation. Their numbers rapidly increased.
Su Cheng’s expression sharpened.
With a gathering array for elemental spirits, spellcasting difficulty would be significantly reduced.
But even so—
This spell looked complicated.
She didn’t waste time. Standing beneath the floating runes, she began reading intently.
It included not only incantations, but also analysis of the spell structure and methods for channeling mana.
“Time’s up.”
About ten minutes later, the text vanished.
Barely enough time to memorize it—she hadn’t even tried it yet.
Su Cheng inhaled. “I can—”
“No.”
Xiao Yun beckoned her over. “Next, I’ll attack you. Defend yourself while casting the spell you just learned.”
She froze.
For elemental mages—especially low-tier ones—casting conditions mattered greatly. Stability and stillness significantly increased success rates.
Combat changed everything.
But this was an exam. There was no room for negotiation.
She nodded, brow furrowed.
Before she could speak, three wind blades shot straight at her.
Su Cheng dodged clumsily, throwing herself aside. They skimmed past her arm, slicing through her sleeve.
“…!”
She activated Wind Step and leapt three meters away.
More wind blades followed—faster, denser, relentless.
She dodged while trying to cast the spell.
But the moment her focus wavered, the gathered wind spirits scattered, dissolving back into the array.
Wind Step made her lighter, but not immune to fatigue.
Within minutes, her breathing turned ragged.
Dodge. Cast. Dodge again. Her concentration fractured further.
At this rate, she’d soon be unable to avoid even the simplest attacks.
Normally, a mastered spell could be cast silently. But newly learned magic required chanting—and not fast chanting either.
She mentally ran through the incantation.
At least seven or eight seconds.
During that time, she would need absolute focus.
Standing still would be best.
Or—
Let herself get hit?
As long as it wasn’t a fatal strike, injuries didn’t matter. The church was nearby; healing could be arranged. She could even afford it.
But something felt wrong.
As a wind mage, she was unusually sensitive to wind-element spells.
Those shimmering blades… something about them wasn’t right.
Wind blades were formed from wind spirits. In a resonator’s perception, their rhythm and structure had distinct signatures.
Even with eyes closed, one could feel them.
These attacks looked uniform—but they were not.
They came in batches. Timing was consistent.
But their “presence” fluctuated.
Which meant—
Some of them weren’t real.
Either they were disguised spells… or illusions.
Su Cheng stopped abruptly.
“Wind of the heavens, heed my call…”
She began chanting softly.
A dozen wind blades shot toward her.
She didn’t move.
They struck her body—
And shattered into pale blue light.
“—At the convergence of currents, take form…”
Wind spirits screamed as they surged.
A vortex erupted.
It expanded rapidly—nearly ten meters wide—devouring everything around it. Incoming wind blades were swallowed whole.
The air roared like a living thing.
Su Cheng stared upward in shock.
She… didn’t believe she could produce something like this.
This was easily fourth-tier level magic.
Before she could feel proud—
A sharp wave of dizziness hit her. Her mana output broke.
The vortex collapsed.
Violent currents scattered everywhere, shattering glass, cracking stone pillars and stained windows.
She staggered backward, barely staying upright, drained hollow.
Fine. She gave up thinking.
And simply sat down.
A few seconds later, the vortex completely vanished.
“…Barely passable.”
Xiao Yun approached unhurriedly. His boots struck the obsidian floor with crisp sounds.
Through her blurred vision, Su Cheng saw his robe sway as he stopped in front of her.
A tall shadow fell over her.
“Can you still move?”
She tried to stand—but her head spun again and she sank back down.
“No,” she said, pressing her forehead. “Let me sit a moment. I’ll be fine soon.”
A hand was extended toward her.
“Wait—don’t pull me up—”
Too late.
He grabbed her shoulder and lifted her effortlessly.
The moment he let go, her legs gave out.
She stumbled forward—
Instinctively reaching out for balance.
Her hand caught fabric.
Too close.
Her fingers slipped into his collar, brushing sharp collarbone, then landing directly on firm chest muscle.
Warm. Solid. Alive with steady strength beneath her palm.
Her fingers curled slightly.
She could feel the deep, steady heartbeat beneath her fingertips.
Xiao Yun’s body stiffened.
Then the relaxed softness of muscle under her touch snapped taut like drawn steel.
And the black butterfly wing tattoo across his chest was fully revealed.
