Red Tide Castle, within the main building’s third-floor conference hall.
The brazier burned brightly, driving away the chill brought by the early snow outside.
Several mages wearing gray-blue cloaks were seated around the round table, sipping tea and engaging in a hushed conversation.
A few aged yet vigorous faces mixed with a few young, composed accompanying apprentices, exuding an undeniable deanor.
Beside the main seat, an elderly man with gray hair, gentle eyes, and a sowhat rounded figure was taking out a clean handkerchief to wipe the crystal lens on his nose.
It was the Grand Mage leading this team—Herman Elwood.
Upon seeing Louis and his group enter, he imdiately stood up and warmly greeted them.
"Ahhh... Is this the Louis everyone in the Mage Forest has been talking about for a year? Even younger than I imagined."
Louis gave a half-bow, speaking with neither arrogance nor servility: "Welco to our distant realm, Red Tide Territory might be lacking in conditions, please forgive any shortcomings in our hospitality."
"Lacking?" Herman lightly patted the table, his smile bringing crinkles to the corners of his eyes, "I’ve co across many disaster-stricken territories on my way here, so in ruins, so barely sustained, compared to these wastelands, this place is literally heaven!"
After the pleasantries, the atmosphere slightly settled as Herman took a sip of tea and changed the subject.
"Although the Doomsday Nest has been completely destroyed by you, but..." he took out a parchnt map from his pocket and spread it on the table, "We still cannot confirm if the ecosystem of these insect corpses has truly ’died’."
The map depicted a series of broken insect remains and record patterns of demon patterns.
Herman’s expression also beca more solemn: "In the samples I brought back, I discovered a peculiar magic energy corrosion crystal. On the surface, it seems like residual magic power, but it’s more like a fragnt of ’spore consciousness’... like a dead brain trying to move again."
He sighed lightly, saying, "We have no choice but to suspect whether what’s left in the Doomsday Nest might still contain the possibility of a ’resurgence chanism,’ even if it’s just partial, it’s enough to create a new disaster."
"So you ca personally?"
Herman nodded: "Yes, the Supre Mage is concerned..."
He paused, then smiled again, "Of course, we’re not just here to inspect the insects... A few months ago you submitted an application to the Mage Forest. But seeing the situation in Red Tide, I guess you won’t have a few months to go to our headquarters for testing, right?"
Louis nodded and asked, "The mage test... does it require going to a special training ground? I rember there’s open space at the northern training ground, at least it’s safer."
Herman grinned: "No trouble necessary, we have specifically prepared so small tools, testing here is just fine."
Several accompanying mages placed wooden boxes in the center of the hall one by one, unlocking them with a few clicks.
Inside the boxes were several tools emitting faint magical power fluctuations, simple in structure.
Emily stood to the side, her eyes fixed on Louis, with a look of "What surprises do you have that I don’t know about?"
Then her gaze followed the unpacking of those items, carrying a thread of tense anticipation.
"We will conduct three tests," Herman said, pointing to the items in the boxes.
Louis nodded, a quiet intensity passing through his naturally calm eyes.
Finally reaching this step.
He glanced at the mages, with so young faces looking uneasy, a gaze mixed with scrutiny and anticipation.
Emily stood at the edge of the hall, seemingly nervous for him, yet also... quietly proud.
He quietly spoke, "Let’s begin."
The atmosphere in the conference hall quieted, even the crackling of the fireplace seed quieter.
Herman took out a small transparent funnel from the test box and handed it to Louis.
"Here, this is the first test tool we use for a Magic Apprentice." He explained with a smile, "Siphon Sand Leak, mages call it the ’Bottle of Patience.’ If the magic power is too strong it’ll explode, too weak it’ll not flow, to stabilize it, you need to guide it as if pulling water through a silk thread."
Louis looked down at the tool.
The sand leak was crystal clear throughout, with tiny gray-white sand grains suspended inside, as if frozen in ti.
The surface of the funnel was engraved with pale blue magical patterns, quietly emitting a faint cold light in his palm.
He flicked his fingers, causing the sands to tremble slightly, then deeply inhaled to slowly channel his magic power.
The next mont, the siphon sand leak trembled gently, the static sand grains seed to awaken and began to slowly spin, floating in the air, as if waiting for the owner’s guidance.
Louis concentrated his magic power on his fingertips, gently guiding, as if strumming an extrely fine string.
The first thread of sand flow slowly descended, falling into the glass chamber below.
The air seed to freeze for an instant.
Everyone’s gaze focused on his hands.
The small sand leak, the almost imperceptibly fine sand line, and the unwavering gesture.
Louis’s expression was focused, sweat faintly seeping from his temples, as if concentrating on controlling every grain of sand.
Yet, only he himself knew, this was rely the tip of the iceberg of his magic power control.
He even deliberately created a slight ripple midway.
The sand flow suddenly paused, then stabilized again, as if "barely salvaged."
Several young mages gasped, one whispered, "He... hasn’t learned the ditation Technique, has he? How is his control so steady?"
"Such stability, even an apprentice who has stayed in the academy for three years might not be able to achieve it."
"And he’s not even using a spell."
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