Chapter 28: The Gray Mist and the Crystal Legacy
Hikari Noya, a young man seemingly the same age as Fulan, between seventeen and nineteen, stepped forward. His messy, dark gray hair matched his equally gray eyes, and he wore the standard black-and-white uniform of Ragandarok Academy. His build was average—neither too thin nor muscular, just ordinary. He walked about five meters away from the group, his footsteps echoing confidently on the earthy training ground. With a deep breath, he inhaled sharply, his lips curling into a self-assured smile. Then, he unleashed his ability.
**[Molecular Conversion ~ Gray Mist Veil!]**
A thick, dark gray mist erupted from Hikari's mouth, spreading rapidly and enveloping the students and Instructor Makoto. The fog was dense, obscuring vision completely. The students, though calm, were visibly disoriented, their figures barely visible through the haze. Hikari stood with a proud smile, clearly expecting praise for his display.
However, Makoto's voice cut through the mist, calm and analytical. "You can convert the Menma particles you absorb with the air in your lungs into a dense mist. It's similar to how fireball users or other offensive-type Menma abilities work. Your Menma is clearly offensive in nature."
Hikari's confidence seemed to grow as he ran a hand through his hair, but Makoto's next words shattered his pride. "However, at your current skill level, you're still very weak." Hikari's eyebrows twitched, his smile faltering as Makoto continued. "The problem is, you can't defeat someone with an offensive Menma type like yours, or even a defensive type. For example, if you release a mist attack, you don't expect it to break through a stone wall, do you? Or if your mist were to clash with a water-based attack, both being offensive types, do you really think mist would overpower water?"
Hikari's eyes widened as Makoto's critique continued. The instructor, unfazed by the mist, scribbled notes in his small notebook, his voice steady. "Your skill is only good for retreating, creating distractions, or disorienting your opponent. You probably passed the exam because the other students couldn't see you in this mist. You exploited their carelessness and stole their points. You might have eliminated people far stronger than you with this cunning tactic."
Hikari's face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. He muttered under his breath, "That's not…" but Makoto wasn't finished. "Well, let's see if you can even dispel this mist yourself."
Silence followed. Hikari couldn't remove the mist, and Makoto sighed, rubbing his gray hair with his pen. "Alright, you can return to your spot. We'll move on to the next student once the mist clears."
As Hikari reluctantly stepped back, a girl with silky pink hair tied into a high ponytail and a stylish red headband stepped forward. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with energy, and her fair skin seemed to glow even in the dim light. She raised her right hand and snapped her fingers, her voice cheerful and mocking. "So, the so-called top candidate who passed the exam first did it by being sneaky? How pitiful!"
**[Menma Manipulation ~ Gentle Breeze!]**
A swirling, spiral wind erupted around the students, lifting their hair and clothes gently. The wind dispersed the dark gray mist in moments, leaving the training ground clear once more. The pink-haired girl stood confidently, her radiant smile lighting up the area. "I'm Mizayani Kyoka, third in the ranking of those who passed the exam the fastest. Your name's Hikari, right? Let me be blunt—I don't think you deserve a seat among us." She pointed at him, her tone sharp. "From what I remember, there was a boy who moved like blue lightning during the exam. In my opinion, he deserves your spot more than you do."
Hikari remained silent for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. Even Makoto didn't intervene, curious to see how Hikari would handle the criticism—a necessary trait for any Knight. Finally, Hikari exhaled and spoke with quiet determination. "I don't care if it was sneaky or not. There was no other way for me to compete. That's why I'm proud I succeeded, even if others are more talented than me."
Makoto nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied with Hikari's response. He then turned to Kyoka, his tone calm but probing. "Mizayani Kyoka, you can manipulate the Menma particles in the air to create wind currents. This ability has great potential for development and can produce a variety of attacks." Kyoka's smile widened at the praise, but Makoto's next question caught her off guard. "Let's start with this: Can you float or fly?"
Kyoka's smile faltered, her blue eyes widening in confusion. "Huh?! How am I supposed to do something impossible like that?"
Makoto began writing in his notebook, his voice matter-of-fact. "That means your control over your ability is still weak, just like Hikari's. Next is…"
He paused, his gaze shifting to Lazaria. "Lazaria Masmogar."
The moment the name left his lips, the students erupted into murmurs of surprise. The Masmogar name was legendary—it belonged to one of the current Crystal Knights, the pinnacle of strength in the kingdom. All eyes turned to Lazaria, who stepped forward with a composed expression, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight and her green eyes focused.
"Masmogar?!"
"Isn't that the name of the newest Crystal Knight?"
"Wait, is she her younger sister?!"
"Seriously?!"
"Does that mean she has the same talent as her older sister?"
Lazaria ignored the whispers, her steps steady as she approached the center of the training ground. Fulan's dark eyes narrowed as he watched her, his mind racing. *'Lazaria is the younger sister of a Crystal Knight? This changes everything. If she knows her sister well, she might have information about the strength of the Crystal Knights. I can use that to gauge the level of threat I'll face…'*
Fayrouz, standing nearby, was equally stunned. She muttered under her breath, "Lazaria, you…"
The revelation had sent shockwaves through the group, and the atmosphere grew tense. Lazaria, the younger sister of a Crystal Knight, stood at the center of attention, her presence now carrying a weight that no one could ignore.
.
.