The chamber beneath the Elemental Church predated the kingdom.
Stone pillars carved with the six elemental crests surrounded a circular hall, their surfaces worn smooth by centuries of ritual use. At the center stood twelve pedestals, each holding a translucent crystal sphere. Mana pulsed within them like restrained breath.
"This chamber," said Arch-Priest Halvion, his voice carrying weight rather than volume, "exists to measure affinity. Not destiny. Not worth. Only compatibility."
None of the twelve felt reassured by that distinction.
"Step forward one at a time," Halvion continued. "The crystal will respond honestly. Do not resist it."
Haruto stepped forward first.
The moment his hand touched the crystal, the chamber reacted violently.
Wind surged outward, sharp and slicing, before lightning snapped into existence within it. The two forces intertwined, forming cutting arcs of charged air that spiraled faster and faster.
Several priests instinctively stepped back.
"Wind and Lightning," a scholar murmured.
"High-speed alignment."
Halvion narrowed his eyes. "Aerial combat potential. Extreme mobility."
Haruto withdrew his hand, heart pounding. He hadn't done anything—and yet the room felt heavier around him.
Kenta approached next, jaw set.
The crystal filled with fire almost immediately—bright, aggressive—but wind wrapped around it, feeding the flames into a roaring spiral.
"Inferno alignment," the priestess announced.
"Fire and Wind."
Halvion nodded once. "High output. High risk."
Kenta smiled faintly, pride flickering across his face.
Riku's reaction was quieter.
Water pooled inside the crystal, calm and deep. Then ice spread across it slowly, deliberately, freezing the surface into layered clarity.
"Water and Ice," Halvion said.
"Frost affinity."
"Control-based," a knight observed. "Suppression rather than destruction."
Riku exhaled, shoulders loosening.
When Souta touched the sphere, earth formed first—dense and immovable—then lightning threaded through it like veins of metal.
"Earth and Lightning," a scholar announced.
"Metal affinity."
Halvion's tone held approval. "Armor manipulation. Magnetic control."
Souta clenched his fists. He felt… grounded.
Yui hesitated before stepping forward.
Water formed instantly, but wind circled it gently, lifting mist that spilled across the chamber floor.
"Storm Current," Halvion said.
"Water and Wind."
"Support and pressure manipulation," the priestess added.
Yui swallowed. "So… not frontline?"
"Not visible," Halvion replied.
Mio's crystal reacted sharply.
Fire erupted—but lightning compressed it inward, forcing the energy into a blinding white core. The sphere vibrated violently.
"Fire and Lightning," a scholar whispered.
"Plasma alignment."
Halvion's voice hardened. "Extremely unstable. Mana burnout risk."
Mio stepped back, shaken.
Takumi barely touched the crystal before wind exploded outward, lightning following in raw, uncontrolled arcs.
The pedestal cracked.
"Wind and Lightning," Halvion said sharply.
"Unrefined sky-blade affinity."
Priests rushed to stabilize the crystal.
Takumi's breathing was heavy when he stepped away.
Naoki's crystal glowed faintly.
Earth softened as water seeped through it, turning stone into shifting clay.
"Earth and Water," Halvion said.
"Terrain manipulation."
"Defensive specialization," a knight noted.
Naoki nodded quietly.
Hana's reaction caused several priests to flinch.
Fire surged—then ice collided with it violently, producing a sharp thermal pulse that cracked the air itself.
"Fire and Ice," a scholar breathed.
"Thermal Shock."
Halvion's expression was stern. "Discipline will determine whether you are an asset—or a catastrophe."
Hana's hands trembled as she stepped back.Shun's crystal ignited with authority.
Earth formed instantly, then fire tore through it, magma pulsing with unnatural stability.
"Magma affinity," Halvion repeated.
"High resonance."
A murmur spread through the chamber
Akira's reaction was slower.
Earth condensed steadily—then fire melted through it, forming glowing magma veins that pulsed like a living heart.
"Earth and Fire," the scholars said together.
"Magma alignment."
Halvion's gaze lingered. "Legendary-class ceiling."
Akira felt every eye turn toward him.
Emi was last.
Ice formed first—clean and sharp—then earth reinforced it, layering frozen stone into a solid mass.
"Ice and Earth," Halvion said.
"Glacier alignment."
"Fortress magic," a knight whispered.
Emi nodded once.
Only when all twelve pedestals dimmed did Halvion speak again.
"Some among you," he said slowly, "will awaken Unique Magic."
The chamber went still.
"These abilities are singular. They cannot be taught. They cannot be combined."
The secondary array did not activate immediately.
Instead, Halvion raised his staff, the runes along its length igniting one by one.
"Before you misunderstand," he said, voice steady, "there is one ability you all share."
The crystal floor shimmered.
A translucent interface flickered briefly before each of the twelve heroes—numbers, symbols, unreadable lines of data vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
Several of them gasped.
"That," Halvion continued, "is Appraisal Magic."
A murmur spread through the chamber.
"It allows the user to perceive basic information—levels, attributes, elemental alignment. Nothing more. No secrets. No lies revealed. And it will fail entirely against beings of Legendary class and above."
"So we all have it?" Haruto Miyazaki asked.
"Yes," Halvion replied. "This is not a blessing. It is a tool. One the world grants freely to those it intends to use."
That sentence lingered uncomfortably.
The Second Revelation
The runes shifted.
This time, the array focused—not on all twelve, but on four.
Light condensed briefly around them, forming faint spatial distortions that collapsed inward like folding cloth.
The scholars stiffened.
"Item Box," one whispered.
"Temporal storage type."
Halvion nodded. "A rare ability. Only four of you possess it."
He did not say their names aloud.
But the four already knew.
Each of them felt it—a distant, enclosed space responding to thought alone. Limited. Silent. Waiting.
"No living beings," Halvion warned.
"Time flows slowly inside. And maintaining it drains mana constantly."
No one cheered.
Because even without explanation, they understood—
This magic was meant for prolonged conflict.
A priestess hesitated, then spoke carefully.
"And… healing?"
Halvion turned to her.
"There is no Healing Unique Magic among them."
The chamber went completely silent.
"Then how—" one knight began.
"You will bleed," Halvion interrupted.
"You will break bones. You will lose comrades."
He faced the twelve heroes again.
"And you will survive by your own choices—not divine correction."
The weight of that truth settled heavily.