144 A Rigged Entrance Exam

"Always identify your true enemy to find your own path."
— Excerpt from "Theresa’s Alchemy Notes"

When the melodious bell rang, the teacher assigned the final homework and announced the end of class just as the last chime faded. Like birds released from a cage, the students chattered excitedly and scattered, leaving the room empty in a flash—or rather, not entirely empty. One person remained, surrounded by a room in total disarray.

Surveying the absurdly chaotic mess, Theresa let out a soft sigh and couldn't help but ask herself: In one's school years, what methods are typically used to bully a student one finds disagreeable? A face-to-face warning? Dragging them behind the woodshed for a lesson? Reporting them to the teacher? Dumping all the dirty, tiresome, and troublesome tasks on them? Or something else entirely?

Theresa had experienced every single one of those. Currently, she was dealing with a "workload" artificially increased because it was her turn for cleaning duty. To be honest, this level of "work" was nothing to her; as an alchemist, she had thousands of ways to conjure substitutes. Yet, the experience of being inexplicably antagonized without even knowing who her true enemy was made her feel annoyed—very annoyed.

"Hello, need a hand?" A greeting came from outside the empty classroom door. Theresa glanced over to see Flora poking her head in.

"No, thanks," Theresa replied with a faint smile, politely declining. She flicked her fingers several times, and a series of "pop, pop, pop" sounds echoed through the air. Out of thin air, five or six round, fist-sized fuzzy balls appeared in the classroom. They began their work in an orderly fashion: some swept, some fetched water, some wiped desks... each went about its task with great efficiency.

"Ah, cute little Fuzzies!" Flora’s face lit up the moment she saw the creatures. She excitedly pounced, chasing after each one in an attempt to catch one to play with. However, no matter how fast she was, she couldn't match the Fuzzies' short-distance teleportation ability. After running around the room a few times, Flora hadn't caught a single one, only managing to get in their way.

Theresa ignored her—the contract with the Fuzzies was that she only paid once the cleaning was finished, so she was in no hurry.

After chasing them for a while, Flora realized she was being completely ignored by the Fuzzies. Dejectedly, she walked back to Theresa, looking over her shoulder at the Red Cedar leaf Theresa was "reading" so intently. "You’re quite patient," Flora asked, resting her chin on her hand. "It’s been so many days, and you haven't thought about fighting back?"

"Fight back against what? Against whom?" Theresa's mental control was already highly refined; reading while distracted was second nature to her.

"Don't tell me you still don't know who is pulling the strings behind the scenes." Flora’s tone made it clear she didn't believe Theresa was ignorant of the mastermind.

"What if I know, and what if I don't?" Theresa didn't even look up, responding with extreme indifference. "Just because they enjoy playing these little games doesn't mean I have the time to indulge in such childish antics. I have too much to do to waste my time on them."

Flora clicked her tongue, wagging a finger. "Theresa, this isn't the kind of thing you can just opt out of. You have to make them stop, don't you?"

Only then did Theresa look up from the Red Cedar leaf, meeting Flora’s gaze with an expression so serious it bordered on cold. "They will stop. It’s only a matter of time; it’s not worth my energy."

Theresa’s words were strange, and Flora frowned, about to ask for clarification, when a voice called from outside the classroom: "Theresa Bolger, Teacher Mufey needs you urgently. He wants you in his office immediately."

Theresa stood up, handed the contract food—a fire-element magic crystal—to the beaming Flora, and instructed her to feed the Fuzzies once they finished. She then headed toward Mufey’s office, wondering to herself what he could possibly want.

...

It wasn't Mufey who wanted to see her, but someone else. When Theresa saw the visitor in Mufey’s office, she was quite surprised.

"Angel, why are you here?"

The person sitting across from Mufey was Angel, the capable right-hand man of Theresa’s biological father.

"Good day, Miss," Angel rose to greet her. "There is a matter at home, and his lordship feels you should return to handle it."

"Something involving me?" Theresa raised an eyebrow. "I didn't hear anything when I went back last week. It’s only been two days—what could have happened?"

Even as she saw Angel, she had been closely observing his expression—it was his usual gentle and warm demeanor. From this, she judged it wasn't bad news, which was why she felt calm enough to inquire.

"Yes, it concerns you," Angel said, without going into detail, only urging her slightly. "For the specifics, please ask his lordship once you are home."

Theresa nodded and turned to look at Mufey. Before she could voice a question, Mufey, rarely one to volunteer, spoke up: "Go ahead. I'll take care of your leave of absence."

Reassured, Theresa followed Angel back to the beautiful courtyard where Rene was recuperating—Theresa’s temporary home in the Natural Kingdom.

They arrived about forty minutes before lunch. Angel specifically led Theresa in through a side door, avoiding every spot where Rene might be, and brought her directly to Andrew’s study. As they walked, Theresa already had a fair idea of what they were about to discuss; there were very few matters that required hiding from Rene and concerned her personally.

Andrew was expressionless when he saw Theresa—or rather, he was expressionless most of the time. Yet, the sensitive Theresa could still detect a hint of displeasure. As soon as Angel closed the door behind him, she found a comfortable spot to sit, propped her chin on her hand, and asked, "Is there bad news?"

"Your entrance trial task has finally been decided," Andrew said, getting straight to the point.

Theresa whistled and laughed. "That is... *finally*. The efficiency of the Anga Gate is truly... breathtaking."

This ambiguous comment only made Andrew smile faintly. Being an Anga Gate member himself, he defended them half-heartedly: "Your situation is unique, and the current political climate is delicate, so the decision was delayed."

"Fine, I’ll begrudgingly accept that reason," Theresa shrugged, conceding to her father. "So, how does the Anga Gate plan to torture me?"

"A breakthrough in your level." No sooner had Theresa finished speaking than Andrew’s answer followed, so quickly it caught her off guard.

It took a few seconds for her to realize Andrew was referring to the test set by the Anga Gate. She pointed at herself, asking, "You mean the test is to force me to break through my current level of alchemy?"

Andrew nodded in agreement, his face darkening involuntarily.

Perhaps influenced by his mood, Theresa’s expression also darkened. After a moment of silence, she couldn't help but laugh, a cold, mocking sound. "That’s a brilliant plan. They want me to fix a decade-old soul injury on my own... My dear father, is that childhood sweetheart of yours trying to ruin me?"

There was clear indignation in her voice, but Andrew, surprisingly, offered a faint smile. "You’re sharp. I hadn't even said anything, and you already guessed it."

This confirmed Theresa’s suspicion: the test was indeed the result of a jealous woman’s machinations. The goal was not only to prevent Theresa from entering the Anga Gate but to sever any possibility of her advancing in alchemy!

Once the entrance exam topic was set, Andrew, as a member of the Anga Gate, was strictly forbidden from using his influence to assist her, or he would be accused of favoritism. This meant Theresa’s chances of curing her soul injury were now at their lowest—among everyone around her, only Andrew had the potential to obtain the precious medicine needed to heal such an injury.

Neither sarcasm nor disgust clouded Theresa’s reason. After a moment of venting, she began to ponder the motive behind this arrangement. The more she thought, the more she couldn't grasp it. Since she couldn't figure it out, she asked Andrew directly: "Tell me, Father, why is she being so blatant? Just to mess with me and make Mother and me unhappy? It can't be that simple, can it? Could it be that my failure to enter the Anga Gate benefits her?"

As she thought, she missed the glimmer of admiration in Andrew’s eyes. Before Theresa could struggle further, Andrew provided the answer: "If you formally enter the Anga Gate, your mother will become my only wife—my legal and official wife."

The words hit Theresa, and she "translated" them instantly: if she failed to enter the Anga Gate, that childhood sweetheart might be able to use special channels to usurp Rene’s position as the legal wife!

That could not happen!

A nerve in Theresa’s brain seemed to snap. Anger burned through her, fueling a desire for progress she had never felt so intensely before: to heal her soul injury, to break through her level, and to enter the Anga Gate!