The next day, Himo didn’t leave his room. He used his violin to shape the room into an illusion realm—he made a vivid grass field that wavered by the sporadic breezes. He lied on the grass, shadowed by a tree as he stared at the sky.

While Phylia sat beside him, he raised an arm.

“Lightning.”

Nothing happened.

“Lightning.”

Same result. He let his arm drop to the ground and closed his eyes. He thought of something he'd read in one of the magic section's books. 

In a spell, the chant held the function of informing the surrounding qi. But it could be skipped. Once mastered, a spell's magic structure could command the surrounding qi, leaving only the release—the spell's title—as the vocal requirement.

Sighing, he reopened his eyes. "I've already managed to change the chant. I can do it."

He raised his arm once more.

"Lightning. Lightning. Lightning. Lightning."

He put his best efforts behind each attempt, but not once did results appear.

“Lightning.”

But, rewarding his hard work, a tiny streak of lightning darted above from his hand. It crashed on the ceiling and something popped.

“What?” Himo blinked, undid the illusion realm, and stared at the half-cracked gem—its light grew fitful and devoid of its previous brightness. He’d lost the only light source of his bedroom. “Oops.”

-----

The S-class exam was being held in another place. Himo found it after an hour of search.

“What is… this?” He blinked.

Even if the previous stadium was weird, this was no stadium at all.

A huge island occupied its center. Its appearance was unlike any other—its land was a dead scorched land to the likes of cursed charcoal, while its borders presented a wall of lava that flowed beneath, into a dark, deep crater. That wasn’t all. Above the island floated hundreds of spherical metallic rooms.

Even just by staying on the corners of the stadium—on a ledge used as the waiting area—the students sweated from the heat that left the island.

A few minutes passed since Himo arrived, and the place filled up—over a hundred A-class students had come. This time, however, there were no spectators.

“Welcome to the exam!” The headmaster, as usual, appeared out of nothing. He flew above the chasm, spreading his wings. He smirked. The immense pressure from his presence forced the students to straighten their backs. “Enter one of the rooms and prove yourself worthy of reaching the S-class.” He pointed at the spheres. “This time, I hope that at least one of you will manage to succeed. Good luck.” Chuckling, he vanished.

Freed from his pressure, the students glanced at each other. The angels flew toward the rooms while the others jumped to the flying island. Many regretted it immediately. The heat flared up, and whoever stepped on the island feared to burn alive. Gritting their teeth, they went for a mad dash toward a sphere—they all choose a different one—and jumped from the island to a hole in each room. Once they entered, the hole closed up.

Himo and Azusa, meanwhile, strolled around the island as though the heat was but a tepid warmth. After waving at each other, they entered in their respective sphere.

Once inside, Himo looked around. The inside was of a metallic gray. No windows, no signs, no anything. It was but an empty sphere whose inside brightened through some unknown method.

“What am I supposed to do here?” Himo frowned. He paced around the room in search of a hint. At least, he noted, the warmth had been replaced by a pleasant cool. His tail waved from one side to the other as he knocked on the gray. It rang with each hit, but nothing happened. His frown deepened as he kept the searching until he found a thin black line hidden in the gray.

“This is…” Himo leaned closer. “To begin the test… simply say ‘start'.” He froze. “Really now?” He punched the wall in annoyance. “Ouch.” It was tougher than he thought.

While he rubbed his hand, the room’s spheric surroundings changed. The floor flattened and the walls shaped into a huge cube. “An illusion realm?” Himo blinked. Suddenly, a tiny sphere flew out of a wall—Himo leaned to his side to avoid it—and it halted just before crashing on the other side of the wall.

“Eh?”

“To pass the test,” a mechanical voice rang to his ears. “Avoid every attack from the balls. Note: changing the environment of the illusion will be considered cheating.”

Himo glanced at the sphere—it looked like a metal spiked ball—and readied himself.

After a moment of stillness, the ball spun and darted for him, but Himo avoided it effortlessly. It then turned and darted for him again, but the result didn’t change.

“Isn’t it a bit… slow?” Himo frowned as he avoided it again. While its speed rivaled half of an arrow’s, it was no challenge to a cultivator. And so, he kept avoiding it over and over.

The mechanical voice returned. “Thirty seconds have passed. The second ball will be introduced.”

Himo felt a shiver slide his back and used [Hopper] to his right. The second sphere passed his former spot and turned to chase after him again. The two spheres turned and dashed to him as he jumped from one side of the room to the other. They weren’t chasing him blindly; they swapped positions and cooperated to trap him from each side. Even so, they never turned when near him.

That went on for several seconds, but, suddenly, Himo stopped. “As I thought…” He sidestepped a sphere. “I’m over-reliant on hopper. But this is a good training place.” He smirked and constrained himself to small leaps and sidesteps.

“One minute has passed.” The words rang in his mind. “The third ball will be introduced.”

The three spheres got into a formation. One aimed at his head, one at his torso, and one at his legs. Each from different angles. Himo frowned and, using his inventive, took a pose: he spread his legs and bent his back as though he tried to tie his shoes. The three spheres darted past him.

[Considering the user’s love for ‘cool poses’, that was surprisingly lame.]

Shut up! It was the only way!

[What about using hopper?]

No! I'm training!

Himo kept dodging using weird poses, and soon a new announcement came. The fourth ball joined the group. It was then that he began having serious troubles—in a few seconds, he'd been nearly touched three times. This won’t do. I need to reach at least fifty balls!

[Talk about unrealistic standards.]

Ignoring the system, Himo stared at the spheres. He analyzed each of their movements and smiled. Now I understand. He raised two fingers to push up his non-existent glasses. I just need to believe they’re all sadists!

[That doesn’t make any sense.]

It does to me!

With the newfound knowledge, Himo dived into the middle of their formation. He jumped over the first, slid under the next two, and jumped to a wall to avoid the last. 

Once he stepped on the floor again, he covered half his face with a hand and made sure to show an eye—he assumed a perfect chuunibyou pose. "I'm sorry for these balls, but they won't be able to stop me anymore." His tail's waving sped up.