Flinching at the harsh tone, Sam hurriedly stepped into line behind a taller, muscular boy. He observed his peers closely. Floating directly in front of the boy ahead of him was a swirling, dense fireball.
Looking around, Sam noticed that the other seven trainees had already managed to materialize numerous fireballs at once, and their flames were significantly larger and hotter than anything he had produced in his room.
'So, this is how it feels to be dead last at the bottom of the pack,' he mused.
The realization only fueled his motivation. Clenching his fists, he focused his willpower. A small, thumb-sized blue fireball popped into existence before his eyes.
Determined to catch up, he divided his concentration, attempting to forcibly materialize a second flame right beside it.
But the very instant the second spark ignited, his mental grip slipped. The first fireball completely extinguished, leaving him back at square one.
Refusing to admit defeat, he repeated the brute-force process again and again. Every single attempt ended in miserable failure. He could only manage to keep a single, pathetic flame flickering before him at any given time.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over him. The instructor had stepped up right beside him, staring intensely at Sam's pathetic display.
Sam braced his body, fully expecting the leather whip to bite into his bare skin. Instead, he breathed a massive sigh of relief when the man simply leaned in and spoke.
"Try to split it."
That was all the instructor said before turning his back and walking away.
Sam shook his head, staring at his tiny, thumb-sized fireball with a deeply contemplative gaze. 'Split it? Instead of creating a brand-new source, I need to divide the existing one?'
His engineering mindset from his past life flared to life. When applying dynamic fluid mechanics to rune energy, creating two separate faucets of pressure was incredibly taxing on the mind.
However, taking a single, pressurized stream of fluid and splitting it in half was much more efficient.
Taking a deep, calming breath, he initiated his first deliberate attempt.
He pumped more willpower into the thumb-sized flame, increasing its flickering intensity. Once the pressure reached its peak, he visualized a mental blade slicing straight through the center.
A tiny mass of fire violently separated from the main body, but it quickly sputtered and died, not even giving Sam enough time to stabilize it.
'I took the wrong approach,' he pondered. 'I can't just slice it; I have to maintain the internal energy flow to both halves equally during the separation.'
He decided to adjust his methodology. This time, he materialized a highly stable, perfectly spherical fireball. Using his mind, he didn't just cut it; he forced his will to gently pull the sphere apart from the center, dividing the 'fluid' volume in half.
His azure eyes glowed brilliantly, reflecting the bright, flickering light of the flame.
Suddenly, as if driven by a magnetic force, the fireball perfectly cleaved in two. For a brief second, two identical flames hovered in the air before the delicate balance shattered, and both pieces scattered into harmless sparks.
'Success.'
A faint, triumphant smile graced his sweating face. The concept worked.
Without overthinking or celebrating prematurely, he repeated the exact same process again and again. He drilled the mental motion into his muscle memory until he could effortlessly manifest a flame and smoothly split it into two stable fireballs.
Just as he stabilized his third pair of flames, a booming voice echoed across the corner.
"Everyone, fall properly into line!" the instructor commanded sharply.
.....
Creak! Sam pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. The room was lavishly decorated, a stark, jarring contrast to the filthy prison cell he had occupied just hours ago.
He immediately threw his exhausted body onto the plush, comfortable bed. But instead of closing his eyes to rest, he lay entirely still, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
'So... I transmigrated again,' Sam thought, the sheer absurdity of the situation washing over him. 'But this time, it feels different. It feels like I was pulled here specifically to complete a mission.'
"I need to review everything," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
He traced the timeline in his head. The Merge ability back in his dorm room. The slots igniting. The terrifying beam of blue fire shooting into his forehead. And then waking up in this body—Code Number 31.
'Everything is intrinsically linked to the Merge ability,' he deduced. 'The blue fire didn't kill me; it transported my consciousness into this primitive reality.
According to Code 31's fragmented memories, this world has no advanced technology or runic science. The only supreme power here is "Divine Power," granted directly by their religious deities. And this specific empire is fiercely governed by the Church of the Fire God.'
Sam's eyes flickered as the puzzle pieces clicked together. 'That means my Merge ability must have somehow tapped into the divine domain of this Fire God. This whole world might just be a simulated trial generated by the Merge space to test me.'
Despite how cool and game-like that sounded, Sam's intuition warned him of extreme, immediate danger. Reality was about to hand him a very harsh check. Controlling his fidgeting hands, he sat up straight on the edge of the bed and took a deep, analytical breath to assess his political situation.
'Right now, I am the secret, shadow agent of the Fire God's chosen champion. His Majesty acts as the public figurehead, absorbing all the glory and religious worship, while I am expected to handle the lethal, dirty work in the dark.'