Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 50: Is that all?

The moment the announcer called out Calien’s name, a low ripple stirred through the crowd, spreading like wildfire.

Whispers turned into hushed exclamations, and then into overlapping murmurs full of recognition, awe, and a fair bit of nervousness.

"Silverhart..."

"That’s the Silverhart heir, isn’t it?"

"Yeah. That’s the young master of the family that guards Silver Blade City."

"The lineage of the City’s Protectors..."

"Mana Knight blood runs through that boy like a river."

"If he can’t pass, then what does that mean for the rest of us?"

Dozens of similar voices flared, their words folding and tangling across the square, until the buzz of the crowd was a continuous murmur.

Some students looked at Calien with admiration, others with envy, and a few with hope—desperate to believe that a scion of the Silverhart bloodline could weather the trial ahead.

Because if he couldn’t, then what hope did they have?

Granfire chuckled loud enough to turn heads.

"Did you hear that?" he said with unrestrained glee. "Even the crowd believes in him. Your student, Nolan."

There was a victorious glow in his eyes, as if he were drinking every ounce of Nolan’s discomfort like the finest wine.

Nolan stood frozen, his jaw tight.

"You’re truly enjoying this, aren’t you?"

Granfire didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

But Nolan’s thoughts churned.

Deep inside, he knew—if Calien failed, it wouldn’t just be a blow to the boy’s pride or the Academy’s reputation. It would humiliate Nolan personally.

Granfire had set the stage with such finesse that Nolan had nowhere to run.

But one thought kept gnawing at him.

How did Granfire’s students pass?

The creature they faced was no ordinary threat. It hailed from a higher realm.

Its presence alone was enough to make trained soldiers collapse.

So how did those troublemaker students of Granfire, who once lost their minds over a simple ’magic-powered car ride’ Nolan introduced them to, manage to endure this?

If Nolan had remembered how those same students had nearly fainted during his internet cheat ride—screaming at the mild acceleration, begging for the ground—he would’ve realized something was off. But right now, that detail was lost in his memory, and all he could do was clench his fists and watch.

Calien strode confidently toward the designated zone, eyes scanning the area.

A robed announcer, holding a jade tablet that shimmered with mana inscriptions, stepped up and addressed him.

"Your test is simple," the announcer said. "Stand within the perimeter until we confirm your compatibility. Do not fall unconscious. Do not flee. Do not, under any circumstances, approach the creature."

The words were heavy with tension.

Then he added grimly, "It cannot be killed."

Calien blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me."

"That’s it?" Calien said, his brows knitting. "I just have to stand there?"

"Correct. Do not collapse."

"That’s..." Calien looked around, unsure if he was being pranked. "That’s literally all?"

The announcer’s lips pressed into a hard line. "Don’t be arrogant, kid. We’ve lost trained personnel to that thing’s presence alone. It’s not a game. Keep your distance."

Calien stared at him, then turned his eyes toward the arena, clearly unimpressed.

He sighed. "I hate this Academy."

The crowd gasped at his audacity.

"I was ready," Calien continued, raising his voice so all could hear, "to duel. I was ready to trash the other students in open competition. You know what we spent our day doing on this day of assessment?"

No one answered, but curiosity pulsed through the silence.

"All we did was think of those who don’t believe in our beloved teacher—those who look down on him—those who said that we can’t be knights just because we are spoiled brats. Ever since yesterday, it has always been at the back of our minds," he said.

Calien continued, "We are frustrated, so we promised to crush whatever tests this place has to offer in the name of our favorite teacher, Nolan. We promise to step on everyone who dares to underestimate the only teacher who has taught us well, while others mock us behind our backs as spoiled children of the Silver Blade Nobility!"

He would make a fist and put it in his chest, "so we are mentally and physically prepared for this day..."

Nolan’s eyes widened. No, stop talking. You’ll make it worse... oh kid... please save your speech... I don’t need all your help.

"But guess what happened?" Calien growled. "When we tried to join the earlier rounds, we were told our teacher wasn’t in the voucher registry. Someone had deliberately removed his name!"

More gasps.

Old Duldor would control the mana surrounding him to hide his presence.

Calien pointed toward the organizers. "We had to pull strings. We had to use our family background to force our teacher’s name back onto the list!"

Nolan could feel every pair of eyes in the crowd turning toward him. He shrunk inwardly.

"We missed every assessment because of that. And now that we’re finally allowed a turn... this is the last one?" Calien scoffed. "Just stand and do nothing?"

The entire courtyard was speechless.

Even the Chief looked slightly uncomfortable.

Nolan, meanwhile, was silently praying for death. He had hoped—no, dreamed—that the parents of these students would come, collect them, and depart in blinding golden carriages, never to return. His system had already rewarded him just for their arrival. Mission complete. End of story.

But then Lirazel had gone missing.

How can he escape if she’s gone?

And now, Calien—proud, loud, and unforgiving—was marching into the most dangerous assessment of all, right after throwing his entire disappointment into the public wind.

The curtain began to rise.

Calien straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, his long coat fluttering slightly as he stepped toward the center.

The crowd watched with a mixture of reverence and dread.

Some leaned forward with hope in their eyes, believing the Silverhart blood would prove true. Others whispered that no lineage could defy a creature from a higher realm.

And then, the creature emerged.

It didn’t walk. It simply was. A void of form and shape, something that didn’t belong in this reality. Its presence alone distorted the air like heat over desert sand. The light bent. Colors dulled. Sounds faded.

Calien froze.

A long silence stretched.

The boy didn’t collapse.

Instead, after a beat, he tilted his head.

"What the hell?"

His voice rang clear across the courtyard.

"Is this all?"

Shock rippled through the crowd.

"He’s fine..."

"He didn’t even shake..."

But what truly shattered the air wasn’t that he stood unfazed. It was what happened next.

As if time had paused for everyone but him, Calien moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

His hand flew to his waist. His fingers closed around the hilt of his sword. With practiced grace, he unsheathed the gleaming blade, and in one fluid move, he charged forward.

Toward the creature.

"WHAT IS HE DOING?!"

"He’s charging to it!"

"No—No—NO!"

"STOP!"

"CALEIN!!"

The announcer’s voice cracked into the air like thunder.

"YOU IDIOT! IT’S UNKILLABLE!"

But Calien didn’t stop.

His eyes were narrowed, focused. His mana flared out like wings behind him. Even as the creature pulsed with unnatural pressure, he leapt forward, blade arcing like a comet.

And in one sharp, blinding moment, Calien slashed down with everything he had.

Silence.

Then—

"NOOO!!"

The entire crowd screamed as one.