They went to get Mercel hastily. Perytos’ encouraged steps echoed on the guild’s courtyard. This time, instead of the air feeling stiff and suffocating, it felt refreshing- The taste of opportunity right around the corner.

  Despite Celarity already being in the middle of the sky, there were few people on the roads. Just a few haphazard beggars, unfortunate merchants or people running errands.

  With the way back to the inn clearly in his head, they hurried up. The Magistrum’s exhibition would start soon after all. Inside, Perytos felt a bit giddy at the thought of seeing professional mages.

  It was true that every adult had access to magic, but the general populace didn't dedicate the time and effort dedicated mages did. With the time it took to comprehend a single concept, you could have raised your skills dozens of times. This didn’t stop the higher tiered, since by then growth would have stagnated anyway. Due to this, Perytos had seen magic be used there and then, but not to a large degree.

  It seemed that Mercel shared his feelings as well. When Perytos opened the door to their room, he jumped out at him with claws outstretched. His claws left a shallow rend on Perytos forearm. The wound was as long as it was shallow. Perytos' oath took care of it in a few dozen seconds. Though he was sure the arm would lightly sting till the rest of the day, even if it was sealed on the surface. I kind of deserved that, but at the same time, we had no other choice.

  Mercel let out a dull howl at seeing he had hurt his bonded companion. Perytos petted his friend.

  “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Come on.” Mercel wagged his tail and stopped his whining.

  As they began closing in on the town square near the Magistrum’s academy where the display would take place, they saw hundreds of people being funneled in the same direction. I guess the magistrum is really popular here.

  Perytos entered the square first, looking over the whole gathering. In front, a horde of people waited in anticipation: Imperial humans with their pale skin, kobolds wagging their scaley tails, a few homunculi mixed here and there; their grey, artificial skin alongside proportions that must have been imagined instead of being sculpted by evolution. Perytos could even see a single Yeti; the hulking, white furred behemoth made his spine chill.

  His Survival instinct called out to him whenever he looked in the northerner's direction. It was best not to provoke him.

  Your skill(Survival instinct) has reached level 9-12

  The whole group quickly decided they had to remain low-key, scuttling to a quiet corner- Mercel was a legendary creature after all. Thankfully the collar Perytos got from Stanford worked as a charm, hiding the Lykani's silver mane, turning it a regular black color.

  "Shh, it's about to begin." Whispered someone. The shushing spread like an infection. Soon the whole crowd stood in silence, eyeing the stage.

  TWACK!

  A sudden blast of pressurized air blew motes of dust into the air, creating a cloud of dust. When it settled, a lone man in pure white robes stood on the stage. His face was charming, its shape creating a pleasant figure, except for one thing.

  He had long scarred droplets branching down his face, making him look like he had just been crying wounds. His eyes were bloodshot red, but somehow, he still managed to look dignified and approachable.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The man smiled, regarding the gathered crowd.

  "Welcome, welcome to the annual Magistrum exhibition. Most of you here probably recognize me; those that do not, I am Soren, a high arcanist and a member of the Magistrum's council. I will have the pleasure of hosting you today, as well as judging the exhibition matches." With that, Soren clapped and a few youths appeared on stage. They didn't look as dignified as the high arcanist; their hair looked a bit disheveled, and they appeared dizzy from the teleportation.

  It does look impressive though...

  Soren regarded the audience once more, where quiet whispers had already begun. "First, we will begin with a few standalone demonstrations- That way we can give the students a chance to show off their own spells and creations. Then, the main attraction: the duels.”

  A young lad of mixed heritage stepped on stage. His gate was jerky and unsteady. Standing for a second before the audience, he suddenly grew composed. His steps turned even; his face turned from red, to its default state. He closed his eyes, visibly concentrating. His arms raised on their own, weaving a together a spell. His face grew pained, as if being burned slightly. Then-

  Whoosh!

  Fiery streams jutted out of his hands, blowing over the audience's heads. Much to their relief, it didn't burn them, though they definitely felt the warmth. Continuing his display, the child moved his hands. The beam of fire split in two, each moving according to the caster's will. It looked like a conductor ordering his fellow musicians.

  The fire whirled in complex shapes. Sometimes it behaved like a dragon; tailing through the sky freely. Other times it formed complex geometric shapes, showcasing the child's talent at keeping his focus.

  Eventually the youth grew tired, sweat dripped down his face, and he was forced to stop. The populace cheered on loudly, showing their amazement at someone this young managing to wield magic with such dexterity.

  Soren led the happy apprentice towards the back where he could rest. "What a magnificent display ladies and gentlemen. To discover the facet of fire, and to wield it with such mastery as barely a tier one. Next on, we have..."

  Although Perytos wasn't fond of fire at all, he had to admit the young lad was clearly talented.

  The displays continued, each one more impressive than the last. The mana facets turned more esoteric, more concepts than reality.

  One young devil blindfolded himself and asked someone from the audience to throw him some object. Someone threw a tomato, clearly not a fan of the child’s race. The young devil took it in stride; the vegetable floated in the air for a moment, before a visible dark-red thread snaked its way for all of the audience to see.

  The construct coiled in place, near the place where Perytos and the rest were watching with bated breaths. It finally settled, showcasing the perpetrator. The Imperial human turned not unlike the vegetable he had thrown. Despite the relatively simple display of sympathetic magic, the audience was overjoyed. Loud cheers along loud applause accompanied the now tired mage.

  Next up a scruffy man went on stage. His attire was stained, and his demeanor flippant. He showed a simple metal ball, about the size of a keychain.

  “Ask a single question. Any question.” He asked.

  “What’s your favorite color?” Someone from the audience hollered.

  A monotone, metallic voice responded. It was like the sound of gritting metal.

  “Grey.”

  The audience went berserk. They began shouting at the inventor, calling him a sadist. A few tried reaching the talented spellcaster. Fortunately, the high arcanist was there to deescalate the situation.

  "Quiet." A single word, but it carried the entire weight of a master mage. The Authority conveyed duty and sorrow, but it had managed to get through to the crowd.

  "I see some of you took the wrong conclusions. The artifact our spellbinder enchanted isn't ensouled. It is just some mind magic mixed in with sound spells. We wouldn't want to break the law and create an unsanctioned homunculi, wouldn’t we?" He winked at the last part, clearly putting the people at ease.

  "Now the moment you've been waiting for- The Exhibition Duels!" Earth shifted and illusions painted the sky in an attempt to woo the audience, but Perytos wasn't focused on that because a voice appeared in his mind.

  "Hello there, Perytos. My name is Soren. You truly have impressive companions by your side. Would you mind us meeting after the matches? I just want to talk."