My Muscle System in the Mage World

Chapter 12: World is Cruel (2)

"Is this my limit?" he thought to himself.

"No, this isn't."

The flood of memories from his childhood rushed back. Everyone respected him, affirming that he could become a mage, and his father was proud. Peers revered him, countless servants served him. He would lose it all if he couldn't even open his mental space.

"Son, if you can't even open your mental space, you will be disowned," his father's simple words echoed in his ears. His father looked at him with a cold face, devoid of any emotion, his eyes completely emotionless, lacking any fatherly feeling.

"I can't give up yet." Gertrude gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain in his body.

With the support of his hand, he gradually got up from the floor.

"Ahhhh...."

He roared as he slowly moved his right leg forward, amid the stunned gazes of everyone.

His clothes were entirely soaked with sweat, and from his right leg, blood gushed out as his muscles ripped from the pressure. However, he didn't give up.

Gertude's eyes were violently red as he put his right leg forward, finally taking a step in the room.

The moment both his feet touched the ground, the pressure instantly vanished, giving him a moment of relief.

"This... this..."

"Is this even possible?" the murmurs of children sounded as they looked on in disbelief.

However, there was hope in their eyes as they gazed at the bulky man.

Aur was the first one to shake his head with a sigh. "Idiot."

The middle-aged man frowned when he saw this. "He forgot the most important thing I was saying."

The village leader also shook his head with a sigh, and the second elder had a glint in his eyes for a split second before he shook his head, while the others were still emotionless.

"Eh," Gertrude looked back, hearing the words with a confused expression.

"What is it?" That was his last thought as suddenly a small amount of mist violently entered his head.

Ahhh!

A terrifying cry of pain reverberated as Gertrude directly fainted to the floor, his eyes bleeding.

Reality was cruel!

With the boy fainting, some people came to pick him up and dragged him back; however, all of these people's eyes were filled with disgust.

"This... didn't he take a step? Did he die?"

Instantly, hushed conversations resounded as they looked at Gertrude's condition with deep fear in their eyes.

The middle-aged gentleman's face was cold as he said, "Number 2."

Instantly, the chaos was quelled as they looked at the man with questioning gazes.

"Number 2," the man said again, but no one came forward.

"Come forward." His voice became even more cruel, making everyone feel a shiver down their spine.

"Here." Finally, a scared kid was pushed out of the crowd, and he had a terrified expression on his face.

"You may enter." The middle-aged man's expression turned gentle from his cold face as he gestured to the boy.

"Yes." Although the boy was scared, after gathering some courage, he finally tried to take a step.

"I will give up the moment I try to move my feet," he thought to himself. However, to everyone's astonishment, the boy effortlessly stepped into the room taking his first step.

"Eh." The boy was stunned as he felt no pressure descend on him even after he took a step; his eyes widened.

"Continue forward." The gentle voice from outside compelled him to walk as he slowly took another step. To his amazement, he couldn't feel any pressure descending on him. It felt as normal as walking.

With a little confidence, he slowly started to step forward bit by bit.

Two steps!

Three steps!

Five steps!

Ten steps!

Twelve steps!

Finally, the boy visibly started to sweat as his body crackled under pressure. The mist in the room soon gathered towards his head gently, and the boy's eyes closed with a blissful expression on his face.

"You can come back now."

The boy nodded his head as he took one last glance at the mist with a reluctant expression before he walked back with a proud expression and arrogance in his walk.

However, the middle-aged man just shook his head, seeing this as a "low-grade talent," he announced.

"Number 3."

Another child came, still afraid, but there was a glint of hope in her eyes.

To the crowd's amazement, the girl was able to take twenty steps forward before she couldn't continue anymore. Although she returned, she had a proud expression on her face.

"Low-grade talent. Next," the old man announced as he called for the next number.

As the children walked in line one by one, some had depressed expressions as they walked back, while others had proud expressions.

Those who passed quickly formed groups.

Aur could already notice that the groups of those who awakened their mental space were composed of similar people with similar mental space.

Those with middle-grade talent formed a distinct group, shining the brightest with smiles, while those with lower-grade talent comprised a larger group, though their expressions were not as radiant.

While those who didn't had despairing expressions as they quickly left the place, hiding their faces as much as possible.

The people who couldn't awaken their mental space would have to spend the rest of their lives serving those who did, never having hope to rise up.

After all, without strength, they could only qualify for bottom-tier work. Even if they did their work to perfection, the crystals they earned would barely be enough to get food in their stomachs with no hope to advance any further and achieve a degree of freedom.

Their heads would always be bowed to those who had awakened their mental space.

"Sigh, this is life," Aur thought as he patiently waited for his turn, giving a casual shrug.

Finally, his name was called. "Number 47."

"Yes," Aur said as he coldly walked out from the crowds of people.

"You may enter the room."

"Yes," he nodded his head and went directly into the room.