Mr. Death in the Steam World

Fils stepped forward, picked up the six-pointed star stone tablet from the table, and knelt down to place it flat on the floor.

"Stand in the middle of the stone slab, close your eyes, feel the warm current in your body, and follow my guidance."

Moen stood in the center of the stone slab as instructed.

"Now, focus your attention and imagine a warm current flowing in one direction, starting from your chest, passing through your shoulders, reaching your arms, entering your palms, and finally converging at your fingertips."

Moen held his breath and did as she said.

At first, the warm current was just a blurry mass, and its direction was impossible to discern.

Just as he was getting a little impatient, a pair of warm hands suddenly pressed against his back; it was Phils.

Her magic seeped into Moen's body from her palm, and following her guidance, Moen finally sensed the flow of that power within him.

The next moment, a burst of orange-red flame shot out from his fingertips.

The flame was only about a foot long, but it was bright and steady, swaying gracefully in the air and casting a warm glow on the faces of the three people.

Moen opened his eyes, looked down at his fingers, and a strange feeling welled up inside him.

This is magic, this is his extraordinary power.

Arthur and Phils's gazes fell simultaneously on the flame.

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly, while Phils gasped in shock.

"Such a stable initial flame..." she murmured.

"Mr. Marcus, your total magical power is probably higher than mine."

"This is a good thing. The more abundant the magic power, the more complex the spells that can be cast in the future, and the longer the battle can last."

Just as Moen was about to respond, he suddenly felt the magic power within his body surge uncontrollably.

The runes on the stone slab suddenly shone brightly, illuminating the entire room as if it were daytime.

"Don't panic, this is the final step of the awakening ritual."

"What you need to do now is to declare your identity to the world—in your own way, acknowledge that you have transcended the mundane."

"What should I do, Hello World?"

"Everyone makes announcements differently, just follow your own instincts."

Before he could finish speaking, the Death Note deep within Moen's mind suddenly opened on its own.

The pages turned on their own without any wind, and an unprecedented impulse rose from the depths of his soul.

He slowly opened his mouth,

"I am Death's agent."

"I stand at the starting point of sublimation, overlooking the variables of fate, where life and death intertwine in my hands."

"I will reap, I will sing, I will look down on the mortals, I will rise above all beings."

The moment the words fell, a misty fog rose from nothingness, enveloping Moen entirely in a dense magical aura.

His body slowly lifted off the ground, his feet hovering in mid-air, his robes and black hair fluttering in the surge of magic.

In this age of steam and mystery, the world welcomed his arrival.

The most crucial moment has arrived.

Arthur and Phils held their breath simultaneously, their eyes fixed on what was behind Moen.

A phantom image slowly emerged; it was a book.

Dark red patterns flowed across the black cover. The pages slowly turned, each edge gleaming with a cold light. The turning of the pages stirred up strong wind pressure, scattering the documents on the table.

"His destiny... is actually a book."

The Destiny is the embodiment of magical attributes, a reflection of a magician's soul, and the core factor that determines a magician's future path.

Some are destined to be swords, thus possessing innate talent for combat techniques; others are destined to be crowns, thus possessing exceptional control abilities.

But a book?

At the moment the constellation was formed, Moen felt as if he had seen the secrets of the world. He heard the whispers of the gods in the starry sky and the howls of demons in the abyss.

But soon, his consciousness returned to his body, and he slowly landed.

The ceremony is over.

"Congratulations, Mr. Marcus." Fils clapped lightly, then covered her mouth and chuckled.

"From this moment on, you are a true first-tier magician."

Moen was still a little dazed and hadn't had time to respond when Arthur came over.

"Marcus, how many loops does your magic circuit have?"

Moen was taken aback, and asked somewhat blankly, "What is a magic loop?"

Arthur sighed helplessly.

"A magic circuit, simply put, is the channel through which magic flows within your body," Arthur patiently explained.

"When Ignis guided you to condense the flame just now, you should have been able to feel the magic flowing in your body along one or more directions. Those directions are your magic circuits."

Moen closed his eyes and carefully sensed it again, his expression somewhat strange. He hesitated before speaking:

"Mr. Arthur, generally speaking, how many magic loops does a magician typically have?"

"A normal person has about twelve to sixteen lines, while those with better talent can reach more than twenty."

As Arthur spoke, he tilted his head towards Phils.

"This Miss Ignis can be considered a genius, she has thirty-one points. Your initial flame was so strong just now, it probably wasn't bad either. How many points exactly?"

Moen was silent for a moment, then spoke hesitantly:

"I think I have... fifty-two."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"How many?"

"Fifty-two articles," Moen repeated, shrugging with an innocent expression.

Arthur's expression turned extremely serious.

"Marcus, this is very important. The number of magic loops determines your treatment at the academy. Are you sure you didn't miscount?"

"Sure."

"let me see."

Without a word, Arthur grabbed Moen's wrist, then took a step back with a complicated expression after a moment.

"You really have 52, and the quality is pretty good... It's true what they say, it's frustrating to compare yourself to others. I only have 16, which is less than a third of yours."

Fils, standing to the side, had long since widened her eyes in astonishment.

"52! My sister only has 40! Mr. Marcus, are you a legendary chosen one?"

Seeing the incredulous expressions on their faces, Moen belatedly realized what was happening.

He seemed to know what the gift Sharon had given him was.

Arthur closed his eyes and relayed Moen's situation to the academy, which soon sent a letter.

"Given his outstanding literary talent and magical abilities, if Moen Marcus is willing to join the Academy of Arts, the Academy is willing to make him a key candidate for development and provide him with a Level 5 containment artifact for self-defense after he joins the Academy."

"What do you mean?"

Moen looked at Arthur.

"Simply put, you don't have to be as stressed out as some people are about getting credits—"

Arthur gave Fils a meaningful look.

"In addition, you can enjoy internal discounts when purchasing textbooks, receive extra leeway when taking exams, and have access to some restricted areas of the college library."

"As for a Level 5 containment item, it's exactly what it sounds like; the academy will give you a genuine containment item."

At this point, Arthur shook his head, his tone carrying an undisguised sigh.

"The academy is always exceptionally generous to those who are talented; fate is truly unfair."

"So should I agree?"

"Unless you have a reason to refuse, Marcus."

Moen nodded, extended his hand to the two of them, and smiled.

"Then, please take care of me from now on, seniors."

Phils paused for a moment, then smiled and took his hand.

"You too, junior."

"Welcome to St. Alice, Marcus."

Thus, Moen successfully became a first-year correspondence magician at St. Alice Magic Academy.