Only I Can Use Every Power System

The registration went surprisingly smoothly.

Valen simply handed the guard a sealed letter bearing an official wax stamp.

The guard’s expression changed immediately.

Without asking another question, he respectfully guided the two toward the registration office.

The teacher in charge carefully read the letter before looking at Qasim.

"So you’re the participant..."

He nodded before writing something on a piece of paper.

"Everything is ready."

"Your room has already been prepared."

Valen thanked the teacher before leaving the office with Qasim.

As they walked through the academy’s enormous stone corridors, Qasim couldn’t help but look around.

Students.

Teachers.

Training grounds.

Libraries.

Everything felt... prestigious.

Valen noticed his curiosity.

"The Royal Academy has three years."

"The first year focuses mostly on theory."

"They still train, of course, but none of them are Mahiks yet."

"There are usually around a thousand first-year students."

Qasim’s eyes widened.

"A thousand?"

Valen nodded.

"But only around a hundred pass into the second year."

"And before entering..."

"They undergo the Awakening Trial."

"So only about seventy of those hundred successfully become Mahiks."

Qasim silently did the math.

"So... only seventy remain?"

"Exactly."

"And from those seventy..."

"Only around seven reach the third year."

"They’ll take their final examination."

"If they pass..."

"They earn the honor of joining the Royal Guard."

Qasim smiled.

"So after becoming a Royal Guard..."

"...they’ll finally take the second trial and become Hilal-Awal?"

Valen suddenly burst into laughter.

"There is no trial for the second step, kid."

Qasim blinked.

"...There isn’t?"

"No."

"It simply comes to you."

"I don’t understand."

"You don’t need to."

Valen patted his shoulder.

"When the time comes..."

"...I’ll explain."

"For now..."

"Focus on surviving this week."

They soon reached the main hall.

Thousands of seats surrounded a massive stage.

An old man dressed in elegant robes stood at its center, calmly addressing the crowd.

Qasim immediately guessed his path.

"...A mage."

Valen smiled.

"Good eye."

"That old man..."

"...is in the Third Step."

"Tarbi-Awal."

Qasim looked back at him in surprise.

"There are only ten people in the entire kingdom who reached that level."

"...Well."

Valen scratched his cheek.

"That’s if we ignore the bad guys."

The ceremony continued.

The principal wished the third-year students luck before they departed for the southern border.

According to Valen...

Their examination was taking place inside the Kingdom of Sowat.

"The Goblin Kingdom?"

Qasim whispered.

"Mhm."

"Our relationship with them is surprisingly good."

"Goblins respect courage above everything else."

"They agreed to help train our future Royal Guards."

Not long after...

The first-year students also departed with their instructors for their own survival exercise.

Nearly an hour later...

The academy became strangely quiet.

What had once been filled with students now felt almost empty.

Only sixty-eight second-year students remained.

Along with three teachers...

The principal...

Valen...

And Qasim.

The second-year event finally began.

Friendly matches.

Qasim quietly observed from the side.

One student immediately caught his attention.

Tall.

Broad shoulders.

Short red hair.

Blue eyes.

His movements were powerful yet disciplined.

"Timon."

Valen quietly said.

"He specializes in close combat."

Another student stepped into the arena.

A girl with short pink hair smiles.

Her spells flowed together almost like a dance.

"Sona."

"One of the strongest mages here."

As the matches continued...

Three more human students left strong impressions on Qasim.

Not because they won...

But because they fought with confidence.

Meanwhile...

His eyes drifted toward another group.

Two beastkin.

A dwarf.

Two half-spirits.

Unlike the others...

They weren’t talking.

Several nearby students whispered among themselves.

"...Figures."

"Of course the beastkin made it."

"They’ll never become Royal Guards anyway."

"The dwarf looks like he belongs in a mine."

One of the half-spirits simply lowered his head.

Qasim frowned.

Before he could think further...

His own name was called.

He stepped into the arena.

Across from him stood a noble student wearing luxurious robes.

The boy looked Qasim up and down before smiling.

"So you’re the special participant?"

"You don’t even look like a mage."

The referee raised his hand.

"...Begin."

The noble immediately started forming a spell.

Qasim didn’t wait.

Wind gathered beneath his feet.

With one explosive step...

He shot forward.

Not fast enough to disappear...

But fast enough that his opponent barely had time to widen his eyes.

Boom!

A single punch landed squarely in the noble’s stomach.

The boy’s body folded before flying backward and crashing outside the ring.

Silence.

The referee stared.

"...Winner."

Some students looked shocked.

"...Did he just use wind magic to boost himself?"

"That’s... actually clever."

"Hmph."

"So he’s just stronger physically."

Qasim ignored them.

Instead...

He looked toward the five talented students.

Just as he expected...

Every one of them was staring back at him.

Not with fear.

Not with contempt.

But...

Interest.

As if silently saying...

’I want to fight him.’

---

The matches ended before sunset.

Students gradually returned to their rooms.

Valen and Qasim were assigned separate ones.

"Rest well."

Valen smiled.

"Tomorrow will be much busier."

Qasim nodded before entering his room.

Lying on the bed...

He couldn’t help smiling.

The academy...

The talented students...

Everything felt exciting.

Tomorrow...

The real evaluation would begin.

Before long...

He drifted to sleep.

...

...

A strange sound.

Qasim frowned.

"...What?"

His eyes slowly opened.

The room was dark.

For a brief moment...

Everything seemed normal.

Then...

He noticed it.

A figure.

Standing silently beside his bed.

Watching him.

His heart skipped.

Before he could react...

The figure leaned forward.

Moonlight slipped through the window.

A white mask.

A knife.

And a smile painted across the mask.

Qasim tried to move.

Nothing.

His body refused to obey.

The masked man slowly raised the blade.

...

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