Deadly selection, or rather hilarious

Marcus stood in front of the gates of the Schwaltzfer Academy, staring at the giant golden arches with ornate engravings. Above the entrance hung a sign:
"Schwaltzfer Academy. Here they forge the future. Or something resembling it."
Marcus (in his mind):
"Yeah. And apparently they also forge show-offs. Let's see what you have inside..."
📢 System:
— Location updated: Schwaltzfer Academy. Primary objective: Pass the selection. Secondary objective: Don't die.
Marcus:
— Thank you, System. Very encouraging.
As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he was almost blown away by a gust of wind — or rather, someone's magical flash.
💥 BOOM!
Somewhere to the right, someone blew up a bush. Shouting:
— THE MOUSE WAS SUSPICIOUS!
Marcus:
— Um… Is this… normal?
📢 System:
— These are students. Yes, unfortunately.
He walked around the area, looking at the white stone buildings, the towers that seemed to have been pulled out of architectural fan art, and the students who seemed to have forgotten to be equipped with the concept of "calm".
One was clearly trying to tame the fire spirit, saying:
— Look, little one, I'll give you a marshmallow, just don't burn my pants!
The other was arguing with his wand.
Marcus (mentally):
"This place… this is a gathering of lunatics. Am I in heaven?"
---
Selection: survive or fail
A crowd of new students had already gathered in the courtyard. Some were nervously scratching their heads, some were already rehearsing spells. One guy, looking like a self-confident handsome guy from an advertising poster, was loudly declaring:
— Well, as they say, with my level of magic, I don’t even need exams!
After 10 minutes, he accidentally teleported himself into the fountain.
📢 System:
— New goal: survive the selection.
Marcus:
— System, tell me honestly. Do you have insurance against brain injuries?
📢 System:
— No. But there is sarcasm and slight shock.
A teacher came out to them. Tall, with hair as black as night, in a robe with gold inserts and the face of a person who has already drunk two liters of coffee this morning and is still not ready to endure.
Teacher:
— I am Professor Irma Delar. If you thought you came here for a fun life, congratulations. You've got the wrong door. The selection will begin immediately. The ones who will survive are... the luckiest ones.
Marcus (whispering):
— Why does everything sound like a trailer for a horror movie?
📢 System:
— Because it is.
---
First Challenge: Write your fate... or your death
Irma led everyone into a huge hall where pedestals stood instead of desks, and on them were parchment and a quill. The board lit up:
Challenge 1: "Create a scene. And it will come to life."
Irma:
— You have 15 minutes. Write a magical description of the battle scene on this parchment. What you write will appear in front of you. Win - move on.
Marcus (panicking):
— What kind of Pokemon is this?! I'm not a scriptwriter!!!
📢 System:
— Let me remind you: your "Writer" skill allows you to influence the world through text. Just... get inspired.
Marcus took a pen, took a deep breath... and started writing:
> "A goblin appears in front of me. Small. Stupid. With a mop instead of a sword. And armor made of pots. He yells: "BOOGABOOGA!" and trips over his own foot."
As soon as he put a period, right in front of him with a pop appeared... exactly this goblin. Mop in hand, pots on his head and a scream:
— BOOGABOOGAAAAAAA— BOOM!
He tripped and fell face first on the floor.
Irma (surprised):
— ...For creativity - you pass.
Marcus:
— What?
📢 System:
— Congratulations. You invented the world's first combat genre: the comedic self-destruction of the enemy.
---
To be continued...
Marcus has advanced to the next stage. Still alive. With a skill that is not fully understood. With a slight mental trauma from what is happening.
But what next? What other surprises await at the academy?
Marcus (tired):
- Can I just lie down and sleep?
📢 System:
- No.