The moment Aedon Flinth's name appeared above the platform—
Dozens of eyes turned toward him.
Applicants.
Observers.
Failed examinees nursing bruised pride.
Even several assistant instructors standing nearby.
Everyone watched.
After all.
This was the applicant whose recommendation letter carried the signature of Nameless.
The same Nameless whose stories currently spread across the Empire like wildfire.
The same Nameless whose ridiculous throwing technique had somehow evolved into a legendary combat art.
The same Nameless whose exploits were now taught in explorer guild branches.
And according to the application records—
Aedon Flinth had directly worked under him.
Naturally.
People were curious.
Very curious.
Meanwhile—
Kel calmly stepped onto the examination platform.
The stone beneath his boots hummed softly.
Ancient runes glowed faintly.
The formation awaited activation.
Yet before it could begin—
Senior Instructor Varian Holt raised a hand.
The examination halted.
The entire field became confused.
Applicants exchanged glances.
Several assistant instructors looked surprised.
Varian rarely interrupted examination schedules.
Very rarely.
Meanwhile—
The instructor stared directly at Kel.
A grin slowly appeared on his weathered face.
Not a warm smile.
Not a friendly smile.
The smile of a hunter who had discovered something interesting.
Inside his mind—
Seiren immediately spoke.
"That old man looks dangerous."
"I noticed."
"He has the face of someone about to create problems."
Kel silently agreed.
Because the instructor's grin looked far too enthusiastic.
Then—
Varian stepped forward.
The spoon remained in his hand.
Naturally.
At this point Kel had accepted that spoons had become a permanent part of civilization.
The instructor stopped before the platform.
Then looked down at a document.
Kel recognized it instantly.
His registration form.
The recommendation letter.
The reports.
Everything.
Varian slowly lifted his eyes.
His grin widened.
"Aedon Flinth."
Kel nodded.
"Senior Instructor."
The instructor tapped the paper.
"You worked directly under Nameless."
Silence.
Several nearby applicants immediately leaned closer.
The surrounding field became quieter.
Everyone was listening.
Kel nodded.
"For a time."
The instructor's eyes narrowed.
"For a time."
The words sounded thoughtful.
Then Varian looked toward the spoon in his hand.
Then toward Kel.
Then toward the spoon again.
The grin widened further.
The situation became increasingly concerning.
Inside his mind—
Seiren laughed.
"He's thinking about spoons."
"Yes."
"You brought this disaster into the world."
"Unfortunately."
Meanwhile—
Varian folded the report.
Then asked:
"Tell me."
His voice carried across the examination field.
"What kind of person is Nameless?"
The entire field froze.
The applicants immediately became excited.
Because honestly.
Everyone wanted to know.
The stories surrounding Nameless had become absurd.
Some claimed he could throw mountains.
Others claimed he killed sea monsters using fish bones.
One rumor insisted he defeated pirates using noodles.
Nobody knew what was true anymore.
Meanwhile—
Kel stared at the instructor.
Then answered honestly.
"Complicated."
The field blinked.
Varian laughed.
"Complicated?"
Kel nodded.
The answer came naturally.
"Sometimes intelligent."
"Sometimes irritating."
Several applicants looked confused.
Kel continued.
"He enjoys exploring."
Reasonable.
"He dislikes paperwork."
Reasonable.
"He dislikes attention."
The entire field looked unconvinced.
Very unconvinced.
Varian laughed.
"Attention?"
The instructor pointed toward the spoon.
"His technique is spreading across the Empire."
Kel sighed.
A very deep sigh.
The sigh of a victim.
"That is exactly why he dislikes attention."
Several applicants exchanged confused looks.
The instructor became interested.
Then Kel continued.
"He insists Divine Spoon Art is not Divine Spoon Art."
Silence.
The applicants blinked.
Varian blinked.
Several assistant instructors blinked.
The statement physically hurt their understanding of reality.
Kel calmly continued.
"He says it was merely a normal throw."
The entire field froze.
Then exploded.
"What?!"
"No way!"
"Impossible!"
"That's absurd!"
The instructor raised a hand.
The noise immediately died.
Then Varian looked toward Kel.
"You expect me to believe that?"
Kel shrugged.
"I am repeating his words."
The instructor stared.
Long.
Hard.
Then suddenly burst into laughter.
Loud laughter.
The kind that echoed across the entire examination ground.
Several applicants jumped.
Even assistant instructors looked surprised.
Eventually—
Varian stopped laughing.
Then shook his head.
"Incredible."
His eyes gleamed.
"Absolutely incredible."
Kel remained silent.
The instructor pointed the spoon dramatically.
"Whether he created it intentionally or accidentally."
The spoon gleamed beneath sunlight.
"The result remains magnificent."
Inside his mind—
Seiren immediately whispered.
"Run."
"What?"
"This man is a believer."
Kel almost sighed again.
Because unfortunately.
She wasn't wrong.
Meanwhile—
Varian stepped closer.
His expression became serious.
For the first time.
Truly serious.
Then he asked:
"Did Nameless teach you personally?"
Kel paused.
Then nodded.
The answer was technically true.
After all.
Nameless had taught him personally.
Because Nameless was himself.
The logic remained flawless.
The instructor's eyes immediately brightened.
Dangerously.
Several assistant instructors immediately understood.
Their expressions became sympathetic.
Toward Kel.
Because they knew what was coming.
Varian folded his arms.
Then smiled.
"Aedon."
Kel felt danger.
The same instinct that warned him before monster attacks.
Before assassinations.
Before political traps.
The same instinct activated now.
Then—
The instructor announced:
"Your examination will be slightly modified."
The entire field erupted.
Applicants stared.
Assistant instructors stared.
One even protested.
"Senior Instructor."
Varian waved him silent.
The grin returned.
The dangerous grin.
"A special evaluation."
The applicants immediately became jealous.
Very jealous.
Special evaluation?
Why?
What made him special?
Meanwhile—
Kel remained calm externally.
Internally.
He already knew the answer.
The instructor wanted entertainment.
Then Varian pointed the spoon.
Directly at him.
"A pupil of Nameless."
Silence spread.
The instructor's voice echoed throughout the field.
"Deserves proper examination."
The surrounding applicants became excited.
The assistant instructors became resigned.
Inside his mind—
Seiren laughed uncontrollably.
"He's going to test you."
"I know."
"Specifically because of the spoon."
"I know."
"This is your punishment."
Kel stared at the spoon.
Then at the instructor.
Then at the heavens above.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
The world had taken a normal throw.
Turned it into a religion.
And now.
That religion was evaluating him.
Meanwhile—
Varian stepped back.
The examination formation activated.
Ancient runes illuminated the platform.
Power gathered beneath Kel's feet.
The instructor's voice echoed one final time.
"Aedon Flinth."
The grin returned.
"Let us see whether the student of Nameless possesses even half the absurdity of his master."
The entire field watched.
The formation brightened.
The examination began.
And for the first time since arriving at Aetherial Institute—
Kel felt genuine concern.
Not about the test.
Not about failure.
Not even about the instructors.
But about one terrifying possibility.
If he performed too well.
These people might create an even worse spoon story.