The freckled-faced boy was named Sebastian Hoffmann, a member of a modest noble family native to Silverleaf City.
Before the arrival of Aldric von Stern, Sebastian had held the highest status among the magic students at Rhine Academy of Magic.
His magical talent, while not exceptional, was certainly above average. He specialized in wind magic.
But last night, his position had been shaken.
His family had sent an urgent message, informing him that a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was about to come his way.
He would have the chance to establish a connection with the most powerful family in Rhine Duchy—the Sterns.
Sebastian, who had always considered himself a genius, was overjoyed.
For a moment, he even believed the Stern family had recognized his brilliance, sifting through a sea of ordinary magic students like panning for gold—until they found him.
It wasn't until Aldric appeared at the academy that he realized the truth: he had only been chosen to serve as a companion to the Duke of Stern's nephew.
A "companion," in name only.
In reality, he was just an errand boy.
Hatred burned in his heart.
Wasn't Aldric supposed to be studying magic at the Arcane Empire?
Rumor had it that he had even managed to become the apprentice of a Level 9 mage.
So why had he returned to Silverleaf City?
Why was he here, threatening my standing?
It was infuriating!
No matter how hard he tried to probe, Aldric refused to reveal the reason for his arrival.
Fortunately, Sebastian had a skill even greater than his talent in wind magic—his shamelessness.
He had a natural talent for flattery and obsequiousness.
On the surface, he treated Aldric with the utmost respect, but deep down, he envied his talent and noble status.
Last night, jealousy gnawed at his heart, keeping him awake until dawn.
And now, a filthy beggar had dared to run into him?
How unforgivable!
If not for the fact that Aldric seemed to have urgent matters to attend to—requiring Sebastian to stay close—he would have killed this disgusting bug with his own hands.
That wretched beggar was lucky. For his having been spared—for now.
Sebastian consoled himself, thinking he had performed a good deed today.
Dusting off his pristine mage's robe—despite it being spotless—he ordered his servants to throw Kyle Carter outside the academy gates. Then, putting on a pleasant smile, he hurried after Aldric.
They arrived just in time.
The lavish carriage had pulled up at the entrance, and three mages stepped out.
Upon seeing them, Sebastian jolted in shock.
The middle-aged mage leading the group was an unfamiliar face—someone he had never seen before.
However, the man following closely behind, wearing a sycophantic smile—the same way Sebastian trailed after Aldric—was none other than the academy's former headmaster.
Trailing behind them was the mayor of Silverleaf City!
Sebastian's gaze returned to the middle-aged mage at the forefront.
This man was no ordinary figure.
Who was he?
Aldric, however, was different from Sebastian.
From the very beginning, his eyes had been locked onto that middle-aged man.
Until today, he had never had the opportunity to see Isaac Grimwell in person.
But now…
He recognized him instantly.
That man could only be Isaac Grimwell.
Because of the robe he wore—deep purple.
In the Nolan Empire, the colors of mage robes were strictly regulated.
No mage would dare wear a robe that did not match their rank.
The only exception was when a mage was on a special mission, in which case they would wear gray.
Otherwise, one could roughly determine a mage's level by the color of their robe.
Deep purple.
In all of Aldric's fourteen years of life, he had never seen a mage wearing a deep purple robe before.
Excitement flared in his eyes as he quickened his pace toward the archmage.
Isaac had been walking toward the academy with an impassive expression when, suddenly, he stopped abruptly, his brows knitting together slightly.
At that moment, everyone's hearts tensed.
What had happened?
What could have displeased the Archmage?
Their eyes followed Isaac's gaze—to the corner of the academy gate.
There, two burly servants were dragging a beggar out.
The beggar was struggling desperately, his mouth tightly covered by one of the men's hands.
A commanding voice rang out.
"Stop."
"Let him go."
Isaac's voice was not loud, yet it carried an undeniable force that sent a chill down the spine.
The two servants instantly halted.
The beggar wrenched free, lifting his head to see the one who had spoken up for him.
In that instant, Isaac and the beggar locked eyes.
To Isaac's mild surprise, the beggar was only a boy—thin and frail, barely in his early teens, yet with a pair of strikingly bright blue eyes.
At this moment, none of the onlookers could have imagined that this was the first meeting between two future great mages of the Nolan Continent.
And yet, the one who would one day become the greatest mage of Nolan, an eternal legend—Kyle Carter—was, at this very moment, nothing more than a pitiful boy, easily beaten and scorned by two servants.
"Alright, child, you may leave now," Isaac said gently to Kyle.
He didn't know the full story, but he could sense no trace of magic from the boy. He was likely just an ordinary commoner with no magical abilities. With this simple statement, Isaac hoped to spare the child further trouble.
He expected the boy to turn and flee without hesitation.
But to his surprise, the ragged child instead spoke in a small voice, "Thank you, esteemed mage, but… I can't leave. I… I'm here to take the magic test."
The moment those words left his lips, everyone—except for Isaac and Aldric—burst into laughter.
How ridiculous.
This boy? There wasn't even a hint of magical presence about him. He didn't need a test; anyone could tell he had no magic at all.
Isaac's expression returned to its usual sternness. He said nothing more, simply nodding at Kyle.
As the soon-to-be headmaster of this academy, assessing the magical potential of aspiring students was part of his responsibilities. So, without much thought, he gave a casual instruction: "Then follow existing procedure—give him the test."
With that, he wasted no more time and continued into the school.
The crowd of mages and officials hurried after him in a thunderous procession, leaving only the former headmaster standing behind.
The old man cast a glance over the gathered onlookers, then carelessly pointed at a teacher. "George, you handle this… person. Give him a test."
Then, with a final glare at Kyle—making it clear how displeased he was with this little interruption—he turned and rushed to catch up with the others.
George, a mid-tier mage responsible for admissions, sighed.
He had been eager to follow the rest, to witness the arrival of their new headmaster firsthand.
But now…
He rubbed his nose in mild irritation before reluctantly stepping toward Kyle.
"Alright then… kid, come with me."