Arcane Academy: The Divine Extraction Legacy Chapter 1 Application

"Are you here for the trials? You’ve arrived late…"

A steady, intimidating voice brought Kyle to a sudden halt.

Rather than panic, however, he let out a long breath of relief, feeling a sense of security in the speaker's presence. He had reached the base of the mountain, and the recruitment grounds lay just ahead.

Kyle was unfamiliar with the gatekeeper, but he knew the thugs pursuing him would hesitate before trying to seize him here.

"Y-yes… I am an applicant. Here is my token." Kyle’s voice shook as he produced the item he had guarded throughout his journey.

Because he had tucked the token inside his inner coat, it remained pristine despite his own disheveled, soaked, and bruised state. Even after last night’s downpour, the wooden object was perfectly dry.

The guard inspected the token and gave a brief nod. It wasn't hard to guess the hardships this youth had faced on the road. Casting a glance at the path behind the boy, the guard sensed the presence of several individuals lingering in the distance, likely his pursuers.

If this young man failed to secure a spot in any academy today, those with ill intentions would surely be waiting for him.

Regardless, it wasn't the guard's place to interfere in such matters. As long as those outsiders didn't cross the line, he would remain at his post. With today being the final day of recruitment, he hoped to avoid any unnecessary drama.

"I’ve been told only four Academies are still accepting students… Good luck," the guard remarked, stepping aside to let the grimy youth pass.

Most Academies were indifferent to a student’s background; if one possessed the necessary skill, they could be recruited regardless of their appearance. Talent and meeting the specific standards of the Academy were the only things that truly mattered.

Besides, an ordinary boy wouldn't possess an applicant's token. Despite his pathetic state, there was clearly a story behind his current condition.

"Thank you," the young man replied, his voice thick with appreciation.

"Mhmm…" The guard dismissed him with a wave of his hand, eager for him to move along. Kyle’s odor was, after all, quite pungent.

Nevertheless, Kyle felt a wave of gratitude. He had expected the guard to give him a hard time due to his clothes. After fleeing for three days and two nights, he looked more like a common beggar than a prospective student.

He wouldn't have been shocked to be turned away and had even prepared to offer his entire life savings—five hundred zen—to soften the guard’s heart. Since he was granted entry without any trouble, he felt a deep respect for the man.

Steeling himself, Kyle looked toward the stairs leading to the mountain peak.

Though he was miserable in his wet socks and abrasive underwear, he pushed the discomfort aside. Getting recruited today was his only priority.

It took over twenty minutes to reach the summit. Upon entering the recruitment area, he saw that very few applicants remained, most of whom were clustered around three specific locations.

The site featured twelve buildings, representing the twelve regional academies. It appeared the others had already filled their quotas and ended their sessions.

‘Wait, I thought there were four Academies left. Why are people only lining up at three buildings?’ Kyle wondered as he scanned the area.

He eventually spotted the fourth open building, which lacked any line. It resembled a large, standard house, distinguished by a plume of black smoke rising from the chimney. The only real difference was the banner hanging out front.

Vermont, Academy of Dark Arts.

Kyle suddenly understood the lack of interest. According to the memories of this body’s previous owner, the Dark Arts had only been legalized ten years ago following the signing of the Treaty of Keslore.

However, legality did not equal social acceptance.

Most people still looked down upon those who practiced such ominous disciplines.

Naturally, he had no intention of joining them either, so he turned his attention to the other three active sites.

Lakrine, Academy of Summoning Arts.

Dorelts, Academy of Mystic Arts.

Rakmiths, Academy of Elemental Arts.

Kyle gave a helpless smile. He had hoped to join the Knights Academy, but he was clearly too late for that.

His backup plan had been the Academy of Alchemy Arts due to its lenient entry requirements, but that too was closed. They were likely the first to finish their recruitment.

‘Even though the chief said I have no talent beyond a decent physique, I have to try…’ With no other options, Kyle chose a line and prayed for a chance.

He started with the Rakmiths Academy.

Rakmiths was a powerhouse, renowned not just in the eastern region but throughout the nation. While other institutions specialized in a single element, this Academy covered the entire spectrum.

It was 5:00 PM on the final day. With recruitment ending at 8:00 PM, he still had a window of opportunity.

As he waited, no one spoke to him, likely deterred by his appearance or his scent. They merely cast disparaging glances his way, which he ignored.

While others chatted or attempted to network, Kyle remained silent, waiting for his moment.

Internally, however, he was cursing his rotten luck.

He had only been walking his dog at the park, hoping to meet some girls with pets. It was a strategy a friend had suggested. But before he could even start a conversation, he was stabbed by a fleeing thief he had tried to intercept.

‘I should have minded my own business… I was too busy trying to look brave for those cute—’

Kyle shook his head to clear the intrusive thoughts. Regret was useless; he could only learn from the experience.

He had been reincarnated into a younger version of himself in a parallel world. From what he could gather, the setting was reminiscent of the Victorian Era, complete with a massive industrial revolution.

In fact, his father worked as an engine driver on the city’s steam-powered trains. He understood the world from a commoner’s perspective.

The primary difference was the existence of Arcane Studies. Though only a few could master them, it proved how different this world was from Earth.

"Next…"

The voice of the recruiter at the door snapped him back to reality.

It was finally his turn.

The twenty people ahead of him had either been accepted or sent away in disappointment.

The moment he stepped inside, the facilitator performed a water spell with a flick of his hand, instantly washing away the grime on Kyle’s body.

It seemed his odor had been truly offensive.

"Thank you…" Kyle said, feeling much more comfortable.

The middle-aged man, sporting thick sideburns, gave a simple nod and gestured for him to sit. He then began to outline the testing process.

A series of evaluations would determine if he was a fit for the Academy.

In this realm, magic is derived from life itself. Every living thing contains magical energy, though few can actually manipulate it. This energy has fundamentally altered the world, and its true potential remains a mystery.

"I will channel my energy into you to spark your latent potential. Do not fight it. Simply remain receptive," the man instructed.

Once Kyle signaled his readiness, the process began.

He first checked the boy’s vitality, noting he had no prior training in Arcane Studies. He then moved on to elemental testing, starting with water—the most common affinity for new Cultivators.

Three minutes passed with zero reaction. He moved through the other elements.

After nearly twenty minutes, the facilitator’s expression soured.

"This is a waste of time. Leave."

Kyle had failed the initial test. Since he couldn't pass the most fundamental requirement, there was no point in proceeding to the later stages.

Though he had prepared for failure, the blunt rejection still stung.

He didn't waste time on self-pity, immediately moving to the other two sites.

The results were identical: no talent. He failed the first assessments everywhere, and at Lakrine Academy, the facilitator even mocked him.

Eventually, he stood before the Dark Arts Academy. This was his final hope; returning down the mountain meant certain death at the hands of his pursuers.

As he moved to enter, a voice called out from behind.

"Hey, you with the black hair… You aren't actually going in there, are you? I'd advise against it." A blond youth in a large coat approached him.

He had the look of a city newsie.

"And why is that?" Kyle asked shortly.

The blond boy shrugged and explained.

"Their methods aren't as kind as the other schools. If you couldn't make it into the others, you won't find any luck there. Just some friendly advice: don't bother."

Before the boy could finish his warning, Kyle stepped into the building without a second thought.

He wasn't seeking death; he was seeking the only chance he had to stay alive.

"Welcome… I am Lesley, and I will be handling your registration."

"Wait, what?"

Kyle was startled to find a beautiful woman, appearing to be about eighteen, greeting him. He had anticipated another grizzled veteran, so this was a pleasant surprise.

"Am I being enrolled already?" Kyle asked, confused. Did he not need to pass an exam first?

"Ah… we have been observing you since you arrived. Even without natural talent, one can still master the Dark Arts."

Her words sparked a sudden flame of hope in Kyle’s heart. He couldn't hide his excitement.

"Is that true?"

"Certainly. You just need to finish the paperwork. Our methods of evaluation are unique, after all."

‘Finally!’ Kyle rejoiced, glad he had ignored the warning outside. He hadn't realized he might have an aptitude for the Dark Arts.

He filled out the documents and paid the fee. The cost was 1,000 zen, and since he was short, he ended up owing the school 500 zen. Lesley informed him he could sign a promissory note. The Vermont Academy seemed incredibly accommodating.

"Perfect. Now, Student Kyle Marshall, you just need to fully trigger your talent. Drink this potion, and you will be ready by the time we reach the Academy," Lesley said, her smile warm and encouraging.

Kyle felt no suspicion, as he knew other academies used similar methods to mark their students for identification and access.

Without the mark, entry to an Academy was impossible.

Kyle took the dark liquid and swallowed it as Lesley watched.

Gulp… Gulp…

He finished the vial in two swallows. Immediately, a searing heat spread through his veins.

Suddenly, blood began to pour from his nose and ears. The agony was indescribable. He couldn't even manage a scream before he felt his consciousness slipping away once more.

Clutching his chest in desperation, he looked at the smiling Lesley, realizing the betrayal.

He wanted to strike her, but his strength failed. In the end, he collapsed and died.