Silent Crown

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Two days after the events in the sewer.

Having held a grand banquet a few days ago, the auditorium had been redone.

Lit by brilliant lights, even in the deep night, it had been filled with sweet wine and laughter. It was here that future musicians had met each other. Complex patterns had decorated the walls and pillars. The crystal chandeliers had shone and dazzled. Even the future had seemed brilliant.

There had been ninety-three fine Persian rugs. The designs had formed an epic poem, depicting the tale of King Arthur and his twelve phantom beasts. Even the candlesticks had delicate and ornate details.

But now, these intoxicating luxuries had all been removed. The rugs were rolled up, revealing the smooth marble floor. The candles on the silver candlesticks were snuffed out too. The fifteen windows were closed shut, heavy curtains blocking any light from the outside world.

The wine, laughter, and dazzling lights had all vanished.

Only the fierce sun shone through the glass ceiling, bringing a ray of light into the pitch black auditorium. Scattered about, it vaguely illuminated the portraits of the masters. Their eyes were sharp and cold, thunder and lightning brewing in their eyes.

The final test was about to begin.

Behind a row of long tables sat six examiners. They wore blood-red robes, and their expressions were serious, strict, and heavy.

They flipped through the students' paperwork like browsing in a store; if they found the tiniest flaw in a piece of porcelain, they would not hesitate to shatter it with a hammer.

Among them was a bored young lady. Her face was covered with a veil and a red flower dotted her forehead. She exuded an exotic aura and did not fit in at all. She seemed distracted too.

The lady was there just as a stand-in so the exam would seem a little fairer. No one paid her any attention because everyone knew that the principal had already made concessions for the mischief.

Today's examination hall was for the elites!

The side door opened and footsteps approached. The steps were sure and confident. All examiners rose, bowing to Head Examiner Sidney.

"Good day, Sir."

"Good day, sirs," Sidney nodded and took his seat at the center of the long table.

Gazing around, his strict eyes revealed a bit of satisfaction. "It looks like we have a bountiful harvest this year. Sirs, do not relax at this most important time."

"Sir, we are always alert," Ben said, his head lowered respectfully.

"Very good." Sydney chuckled. "You are responsible for the honor of the Royal Academy of Music and Anglo musicians, did you know? A successful teacher must fulfill his duties and guide the right people down this path. Do not put rotten apples in your baskets."

"Everything has been arranged," Ben said in a low voice. "Starting this year, the spirit of noble blood has been revived."

"As it should."

—

Before the last exam began, Sydney inspected the examiners once more.

"Representatives from the School of Modifications, School of Summoning, School of Revelation, and School of Royalty are all present. Very good…" His brows furrowed slightly. "Why is there an empty seat? Who's late?"

"The professor from the School of Music History and Research. His name is…" Ben thought hard, but he could not seem to remember the old man with no presence. "I think his name is Abraham."

"Maybe his iron hand broke, so he went to the blacksmith," someone muttered, resulting in a wave of tacit giggles.

Few people in the academy knew that the eccentric musician with an iron arm was actually a professor. He taught in the School of History, which barely anyone knew existed, unless they checked the catalog. If not for the fact that there was an empty spot, no one would notice this old man, who barely announced his presence.

Amid the laughter, a white-haired man slipped in from the side door. Seeing that he was late, a bit of awkwardness made its way onto his stiff face.

Sensing others' eyes, he reflexively hid his iron arm behind his back to avoid the mockery. Sydney glanced at him and waved his hand, telling him to sit.

And so, everyone was present.

Soon after, the auditorium's door cracked open to the sound of the crisp mallet.

Every examiner transformed into the face of seriousness.

The final test to determine the fate of seventy-one students had finally begun.

—

"Who is the first one?"

"Edmund Rossi." Ben looked at the name and racked his brain. "He's the second son of the Rossi family. His talent is quite good, he became a student three years ago. The School of Revelation speaks highly of him."

Sydney nodded. "It seems that he's skilled in seeing patterns."

"He's talented in spirituality too," the examiner from the School of Revelation praised. "It seems that the family had put thought into raising their descendants."

"We'll see," Sydney murmured.

As they discussed under their breath, a red-haired youth entered the examination hall.

In this vast and dark auditorium, under the gaze of the examiners in the distance, the youth was a bit nervous. But it was obvious that he had had a good upbringing. He kept his elite air and bowed to the examiners, waiting for instruction.

"Don't be nervous, Edmund." Ben pointed to the center of the hall. "Stand there and relax."

Edmund turned until he finally saw the tall stone tablet he had missed.

—

The stone tablet was at least as tall as him. Standing in the center of the still auditorium, it was a sharp and intimidating presence. After modification and polishing, it was as smooth as a mirror, glossy enough to reflect one's image.

The sun shone down onto it, but it did not leave any shadow on the ground, as if the light had been swallowed by the black stone.

Reflected by the darkness, one's face became pale and foreign.

The mirrored reflections seemed to be missing a human characteristic, it was rather chilling.

Before the tablet was a steel chair. It was bulky, like a machine used to contain patients at an asylum. Silver wires rose from the back of the chair, connecting under the tablet.

They were parts of a whole.

This was the tool used for this test. Though it was a stone tablet, it was actually man-made. If one overlooked the appearance and only looked at the science behind it, it was more like a complex aether ball.

It was originally professional measuring equipment for the Royal Association of Geographical Exploration. It should have been in a laboratory four hundred feet under the ground, measuring the changes of the Earth's crust. But it was here to accurately and precisely display the data of each student.

It was scarier than any interrogation or judge.

No one could lie in front of it.

—

When Edmund sat down, a bit unsettled, the stone tablet brightened. At first, it was still a blur, but then the silver light became a changing pattern.

It looked like random graffiti, but the examiners studied it closely.

"It is sufficient in construction, but average. A bit lacking in modification."

"The School of Revelation doesn't care about creators, but rather those who can correctly react." Someone nodded. "He's skilled in Inspiration."

"It's rare that the first one is this good."

…

After discussing softly, the examiner from the School of Revelation nodded. "Edmund Rossi, you have been admitted by the School of Revelation. Please exit and turn left down the hall. Find the one in charge of our school, and he will help you complete the paperwork."

The examiner paused and humorously said, "I hope you've prepared your tuition. The School of Revelation probably spends the most of the royal treasury."

The red-haired youth froze in shock and joy. Then he raised his fist in excitement and ran out without a farewell. Halfway out, he came back to bow, causing laughter to spread through the examiners.

"He's still a kid after all," Ben sighed.

"Next! Ron Furnia…"

—

When the next youth entered the examination hall, the relaxed atmosphere disappeared.

The youth wore faded and threadbare clothes and looked at the examiners anxiously. But the examiners only glanced at the youth's chest. Seeing no elite heredity, they looked away and did not look back.

It seemed to be the youth's first time facing something like this. He opened his mouth to speak, but was too nervous to say anything.

Sydney furrowed his brows. He did not even know the basic formalities.

"Sit there and we will test your qualifications." Ben smiled and pointed at the stone tablet.

When the youth sat down fearfully, the stone remained dark. No patterns were displayed at all. The examiners nodded, looked amongst each other and crossed out his name on their lists.

This test was specially designed to get rid of any commoners who did not have resonance with the aether, and had never received any training.

Ben nodded with a smile, "Ron Furnia, you can go now."

The youth gaped, not sure what happened. He did not even know what was supposed to be tested. He naively thought it had not started yet.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but you have no talent to become a musician. You can go now," Ben announced softly, though his face still had a hint of mockery.

"But—but Sir," Ron could barely speak. "I didn't even…"

"I said, get out." Ben's smile faded and his cold expression stopped Ron's words, leaving them in his throat. Ben moved on from him and hit the mallet.

"Next!"

Ron stared at the examiners, his lips trembling as if wanting to say something. After a while, he lowered his head and finally left.

Outside the door, one could faintly hear him crying.

This was Avalon, where the elites lived above the clouds, enjoying the sunlight. The commoners lived in the fog of downtown and could not even see the stars.

If the principal were still here, he might have gone easy on the commoner. But this time, the exam was controlled by the elites. There would be no possibility for vulgar and rancid bloodlines to enter the academy.

This was the place to foster the descendants of glory, not a farmer's market.