The receptionist looked at Maddy, who was clearly lost in thought. Impatient, the woman gave her a quick set of instructions.

"It’s simple," she said. "Clear your mind. Find the heat in your chest and push it through your hands. Hurry up—we have thousands waiting behind you."

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath,

"Ugh... why are there so many today?"

Her gaze swept over Maddy from head to toe, lingering on her worn clothes with thinly veiled disdain.

"So many peasants..."

Maddy felt the weight of a thousand eyes pressing into her back. The hecklers in the rear continued to snicker. The young man behind her did the opposite. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted:

"You got this, Mystery Girl! Show them what a poor villager girl spark looks like! Go on! Light it up!"

Maddy’s face burned a deep red. She pulled her hood lower, wishing the stone floor would swallow her.

"Please be quiet..."

Her heart hammered as she lowered her hands.

[Response: Identifying material. This is Rattan Plant. According to local myth, this species of wood is descended from the very branch Prometheus used to snatch the Primordial Fire. It reacts to the fundamental ’weight’ of the soul.]

Maddy did not hesitate. She pressed her palms firmly against the rough, ancient surface of the wood.

The moment her skin made contact, she felt a strange pull. It was an invitation. A deep, cold vacuum inside her met the waiting potential of the wood. She felt the aura of her magic and might that strange pressure leak through her pores.

The energy flowed down her arms and pooled in her palms. The hall went silent. The air around the bowl started to hum with a low vibration that rattled the teeth of everyone in the front row. The wood groaned under the density of her power.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The air in the massive hall seemed to rush toward Maddy, pulled in by a sudden, invisible vacuum. The nearby flames of other applicants flickered and snapped out, as if their fire had been stolen by a greater force.

The receptionist dropped her quill, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and expectation. Even the young man stopped his theatrical cheering, his jaw dropping as the pressure in the room climbed to a breaking point.

Then, with a soft pfft, the tension vanished. The wood did not explode. It did not roar. Instead, a tiny, miserable glow appeared in the center of the bowl.

The silence of the room turned into a wave of mockery. The applicants and adventurers began to laugh, their voices echoing off the tall stone walls.

"An F Rank?"

The receptionist muttered, her face twisting into a look of pure disgust.

"You caused all that drama for a spark the size of a copper coin? You are an F Rank. The weakest possible rank. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Not everyone has talent. Looking at your outfit, those flames are just like you: a little girl from a village in the middle of nowhere."

Then, in a clear, practiced voice, she made the announcement:

"Flame Intensity: Level 1. Color of the Flame: Black Smoke. Registration confirmed. You are ranked as a F Rank adventurer."

"F is for failure!"

Someone shouted from the back of the line. Another voice added:

"Get her out of here! Stop wasting the Guild’s time!"

The crowd began to jeer, telling Maddy to move along so someone with a real soul could take her place. She remained standing there, her head bowed as she stared at the tiny, Black Smoke ember she had created.

The young man rushed toward the railing, his face pale with worry.

"Hey! Don’t listen to them!" he shouted, trying to drown out the insults. "A spark is still a spark! It’s okay! You can still improve! God Prometheus gave us these flames because he wants us to make them grow. It just means you have so much room to get stronger! Don’t let them get to you!"

He reached out as if to comfort her, thinking she was paralyzed by shame. But underneath the deep shadow of her hood, Maddy’s lips curled into a sharp, satisfied grin. She whispered to herself,

"I did it."

She had felt the massive, hungry sun of her power trying to burst through her skin. She had fought it, wrestled it down, and forced it into that pathetic, tiny cinder. She had successfully lied to the very wood that Prometheus once held.

"I successfully controlled my mana. That Presence Concealment trait I got from the adventurer was clearly... useful!"

The receptionist snatched a small wooden looking like a token, from a nearby stack and slammed it onto the counter. With a flick of her wrist, she scrawled a sloppy "F" across its surface using a magic stylus, then shoved it toward Maddy without a second glance.

"Take your token and go. Move on to the next step. You’re holding up the line for a result that won’t take you very far."

The receptionist glanced at the crowd behind Maddy and let out a quiet sigh.

"Listen, this path isn’t what most people think it is. Adventuring, especially chasing mana distortions, is dangerous work. If your flame is this low, you need to think carefully about whether it’s worth the risk."

Her gaze lingered for a moment, not harsh, but steady.

"I’ve seen too many people walk in with the same idea... and not come back. If you’re looking for something stable, something safer, there’s no shame in choosing that instead."

She gestured faintly toward the exit.

"Just... don’t treat this lightly."

The insults stung the air, but Maddy did not move. She was still staring at her small, perfect lie.

The young man stepped forward, his face flushed with anger at the receptionist’s cruelty. He placed a steady hand on Maddy’s shoulder, blocking the glares of the crowd.

"Ignore her. She has seen too many people come and go. She does not know what you are capable of."

He gave Maddy a small, encouraging smile and gently pushed her toward the path that led to the next hall.

"Go on. The next step is the combat test. Just keep that focus you had. I will be right behind you as soon as I finish my own registration. Don’t let them win by quitting!"