It was early morning, and one of the grand entrances to the Kribi Mage Association headquarters—normally a place of dignified quiet—was filled with noise and confusion.
The vast marble plaza outside the gates was crowded with apprentices, clerks, and passersby who craned their necks toward the commotion.
A group of men and women in resplendent robes stood in the center of it all, shouting at the top of their lungs. Their garments shimmered with enchantments, their belts gleamed with inlaid jewels—each a visible mark of royal authority.
"What's going on? Do you know why this group suddenly came back? I thought once they joined the royal courts, they swore they'd never return to Kribi, saying the Association's salary was beneath them?"
"You haven't heard? The whole place has been buzzing lately—it's because of the new Minister of the Education Department. She reopened the Association's old Training Program from years ago."
"I really don't know. I'm busy running back and forth between the college and the dorm every day, busy preparing for graduation... The training program—wasn't that the program that was the subject of an insider scandal five or six years ago?"
"Exactly. Many graduating seniors have complained about this, saying that those who became royal court mages or studied under famous mentors got away with it through money and connections. The rest—those who actually followed the rules and went to teach in rural areas were furious."
"Right, and once that attitude spread, everyone started finding their own way to dodge the contracts. The Training Program became nothing but a name. For a while, people were saying the whole foundation of grassroots education was collapsing."
"And you know what happened next? In the following years, several ministers of education tackled this issue, but without exception, they were unsuccessful and ultimately resigned."
"Yeah, the Education Department has always tried to sweep it under the rug. But this new Minister? She's bold. She's actually reopening old cases and demanding accountability."
Clusters of apprentice mages gathered around, clutching their books as they paused on the steps, peering upward expectantly, tiptoeing to see what would happen next.
BOOM!!
A thunderous explosion shook the front of the Education Department building. The royal court mages protesting there were sent flying out through the doorway, landing in the dust—robes tattered, hair disheveled, looking utterly pitiful.
Some people covered the parts of themselves that were hit by the beams of light from the magic cannon and wailed. It took them a while to realize that they were not injured at all. The magic cannon was so powerful, but the mana flowed so precisely that it only burned through their clothes without hurting anyone.
A few of the more cunning ones, ready to fake injuries for sympathy, lay howling on the ground—until a black-booted foot appeared through the lingering smoke and kicked one of them sharply to the side. The kick was neither too hard nor too soft—enough to hurt, but not enough to injure—perfectly exposing their act.
Out of the dissipating smoke stepped a girl with purple hair, a tall pointed purple hat perched upon her head. She wore a fitted short uniform skirt, a long red ribbon at her waist, and held a thick ledger book in one gloved hand. Her chin was tilted high, her face proud, her expression cool and scornful as she looked down upon the crowd.
"Protests won't help," she said, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "Lies won't help either."
The murmuring ceased instantly.
"Everyone whose name is written in this book," she continued, raising the ledger just high enough for them to see the seal upon it, "stands on equal ground. No matter your rank or patronage."
"You have two choices—either spend a few years teaching at the grassroots level, or remove your mage robes right here and now."
"Choose for yourselves."
Aura's five slender fingers, wearing black gloves, were placed in front of her lips, and she looked at the ugly, angry and struggling faces of the humans in front of her with delighted contempt.
"You're acting on your own! You never even considered the voices of the mages you're ordering around!" one of the younger royal mages shouted. "Forcing every participant in the old Training Program to return is absurd! Even if you send us to teach, unwillingly, it's a waste of time—none of us will put in any real effort!"
"I know," Aura replied calmly. "I don't expect anything from you. I simply want fairness."
"Fairness?"
"Those who followed the rules—those who served honestly—resent you," Aura said, stepping forward. Her shadow fell over him, her boots clicking softly on the marble. "You have patrons. They don't. They came to me seeking justice. And I—"
She gestured to herself, the motion fluid and almost mocking. "—am the Minister of Education."
"You admit we have powerful backers, and you still dare this?!" shouted another mage from behind him.
Aura sighed dramatically, lifting one gloved hand to her forehead in mock despair.
"Of course I'm afraid," she said, her voice trembling with theatrical sorrow. "I'm terrified of offending mages with better lineage, higher status, finer wine, and better manners than me. If they get angry, I might lose my position! I could be cast out, alone in this cruel world, forced to beg for scraps on the streets of Kribi…"
Her tone darkened suddenly. "...until I freeze to death in a gutter by winter."
"Then why do you still dare?!" another court mage shouted, emboldened by the laughter of his peers.
SPLAT!
Aura's gloved hand struck his face—so fast his body spun like a wheel in the air.
CRACK!
Before he could hit the ground, Aura's boot connected with his jaw. Blood sprayed as he crashed into the others, knocking them down like bowling pins.
"Because none of them," Aura said with a cold smirk, "outrank me."
She straightened, revealing the gleaming insignia of her office—personally bestowed by Serie herself. The metallic elven crest shimmered brilliantly under the sun.
Then, without another glance at the crowd, she turned on her heel and walked back inside, leaving the royal mages fuming—but frozen in place.
None dared to step across the threshold again.
The crumpled man lying in the middle of the square, his ruined face glowing faintly under healing spells, was warning enough.
"Toby! Toby, are you all right?" one of the court mages cried, shaking him awake.
"I-I'm fine…" Toby mumbled weakly, clutching his head, dazed and trembling.
"How could she be so violent?! That was barbaric! Resorting to fists instead of reason—she's unworthy of a mage!"
"....."
Toby said nothing, staring blankly at his hands in disbelief.
"Exactly! Magic should be elegant! How could she be such a brute?"
"I… I couldn't react," Toby whispered.
"What do you mean, you couldn't react? You're a second-class mage! Why didn't you at least cast a defensive spell?"
"I used it. The defensive magic was always on." Toby said in a daze. As soon as he finished speaking, the surroundings fell into silence.
Toby slowly stood up and demonstrated to his companions what had just happened:
"I activated all my defensive magic like this, leaving no blind spots, but she pressed her hand down, and with a snap, the transparent shield, which was strong enough to defend against most offensive magic, was shattered by her. When she hit me in the face, she held back..."
Otherwise, his skull would've shattered like the barrier.
The royal mages around him broke into a cold sweat. They, more than anyone, understood what it meant to crush a defensive spell with a touch. That was strength beyond even many Great Mages—power that could end a life in a single strike.
Toby wiped his brow, trembling. To a mage, the fear inspired by overwhelming magic far outweighed that of rank or title.
"I didn't even see her cast," he murmured. "It felt like… something beyond human understanding. It reminded me of someone."
"Who?" a companion asked.
"The Great Mage—Flamme."
At that name, every royal mage turned toward the purple-haired woman disappearing into the corridor beyond, their faces paling with fear.
Vice President Flamme's magic was so incomprehensible to ordinary people, and this was what established her title as the greatest mage.
And this purple-haired woman whose origins are unknown?
When had humanity birthed another mage like her?