By Zephyria The Saturday morning felt energetic from early on.
I had postponed my unfinished studies to the next day, planning to spar all day and review it afterward, so I spent the morning doing simple physical training and a long session of Circulating Qi.
Shayden, who had heard about it, also wanted to observe the sparring, but his Eye Technique wasn’t advanced enough yet, so I told him to focus on his exam studies, as he likely wouldn’t understand it even if he watched.
Fortunately, the sulking fellow’s cheeks puffed out, but he didn’t throw a tantrum.
After finishing lunch early, I arrived at Classroom 1 an hour ahead of schedule.
I had expected it to be filled with the wizards Professor Douglas Mustang had brought, or the seniors and peers from my advanced Swordsmanship class, but surprisingly, it was swarming with young wizards clad in loose, dark robes.
Judging by their attire, they seemed to be Academy students.
A quick glance revealed there were at least fifty of them. I scanned the crowd, but all their faces were unfamiliar.
While momentarily flustered, I spotted familiar purple bobbed hair and approached. I skipped a formal greeting with a brief nod and asked directly,
“Marianne. What is all this?”
“Uh… Professor Sting said it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I collected a list of students from the Department of Magic with 3rd Circle or higher who wanted to watch the match… and it turned out like this. Are you perhaps offended?”
“No, it’s not that… I invited quite a few people myself.”
“Huh? Invited?”
“I expect about forty more to show up.”
“Mmm. …I’m truly sorry about grabbing your collar before, Mikael. I really underestimated the influence of Magic versus Swordsmanship…”
“I already accepted your apology long ago. It’s fine. By the way, Marianne, were you also 3rd Circle?”
“I’m a 1st Circle Master, just entering 2nd Circle. But my older sister is 4th Circle, so I pestered the professor and came along with her.”
A wizard standing nearby bowed slightly, so I returned the nod. The person who looked very much like Marianne, though with slightly longer hair, didn’t speak.
The other students from the Department of Magic seemed hesitant to stand close to me, perhaps fearing they’d be caught by Kiadris, so I stepped back, suggesting we talk later.
Thirty minutes before the sparring time, everyone who was expected arrived together.
Professor Maelo Sanson came with a group of students from the Swordsmanship Department, and Professor Douglas Mustang arrived with eight older wizards.
Angela Sting came into view, with Edwin Kiadris following half a step behind her.
Edwin looked slightly disgusted seeing the crowd of wizards and swordsmen who had flocked to watch the sparring. The moment our eyes met, he scowled.
Suppressing a laugh, I approached and offered my hand for a handshake. He didn’t take it. I found it amusing.
“Didn’t you say you’d burn me from head to toe?”
“…Be quiet.”
“It must be tough with so many people watching.”
“I said, be quiet.”
“I’ll make sure not to hurt you.”
“…”
It was worth the provocation; I could see a vein throbbing on the boy’s pale forehead.
I was pleased, thinking that a well-timed Provocation Tactic (a stratagem to stimulate an opponent’s emotions and guide them in a desired direction) was a good driving force for a more realistic spar.
A few colleagues from the Swordsmanship Department, who were amplifying their Qi sense to listen to our conversation from afar, bit their lips. They were clearly holding back laughter.
Professor Angela Sting placed her hand on the thick door of the Department of Magic’s first lecture hall and traced a spell formula over it.
It seemed to have multiple layers of security and defensive magic, which, frankly, I wouldn’t have been able to discern with my current skill. When the door opened, I followed everyone inside.
The space was far too large to be merely a place for a single wizard to practice offensive magic.
Its ceiling height reached that of a typical three-story building, and its width was comparable to a Martial Arts Training Ground that could accommodate over a hundred people.
There was a half-story high platform encircling the area. Professor Sting, who had ushered all the spectators into one section of it, infused Mana into the magic circles at each corner to deploy defensive spells.
Professor Douglas Mustang seated the wizards who had come to observe, along with the students from the Swordsmanship and Department of Magic, inside the defensive spell’s perimeter, and received their promise to remain quiet while organizing the seating.
Once the spell arrangement was complete, Professor Angela Sting and Professor Maelo Sanson led Edwin Kiadris and me to the center of the sparring area.
The seamless and efficient execution of all these arrangements made it hard to believe this was their first time doing something like this, and my respect for the Academy’s faculty soared anew.
I took a couple of deep breaths to calm my excited heart.
“To ensure fairness, the two of us will be the judges. No objections, right? The basic framework will be similar to the sparring matches for swordsmen. You will attack each other with your full strength, but if we deem it will cause severe injury, we will intervene to defend once. We will proceed with three rounds to determine the winner, with a best-of-three format. Winning two rounds means complete victory.”
“As this is a spar initiated by students’ wishes rather than an official Academy event… there are no set prizes. If the two Young Masters have a wager prepared beforehand, it would be best to finalize your agreement before the spar begins… I, Angela Sting, will act as the notary for any wagers.”
As if anticipating this, Edwin Kiadris quickly spoke up.
“I hope Young Master Ernhardt will no longer look down on the classes in the Department of Magic.”
I understood the hidden meaning behind his words.
If I lost this spar, it would be no different than being told to apologize and not attend the Basic Class of Magic and Formula Principles every Monday. I had been quite troubled after receiving the midterm exam questions, so there was nothing to lose, but a sense of defiance rose within me.
After contemplating what to offer as a stake, I replied calmly,
“If I win, I want to make friends with someone from the Department of Magic. Someone more skilled than Senior Kiadris.”
“…”
This time, it wasn’t a Provocation Tactic, but I genuinely meant it. Yet, Edwin seemed even more angered than before, so I fell silent.
While I understood the realms of Swordsmanship, I knew nothing about the realms of Circles. The magic classes I had taken were about the basics of formula principles, not the conceptual principles of magic.
Thinking I might have made a mistake, I glanced sideways. The first face I saw was Professor Sanson’s, his lips pressed tightly together. He was clearly trying to suppress a laugh. It was definitely a mistake, so I immediately apologized.
“Ah, I’m sorry. It’s okay even if they’re less skilled than you, Senior.”
“…Fine.”
It was an answer pulled from deep within his throat, as if forced out.
With Professor Angela Sting’s mediation, we stood facing each other on the sparring ground. It was fortunate that while we didn’t know each other’s realms, the two professors did.
A distance of three jang (9m) was set between Edwin and me. It was a distance I could cover only after executing five Moves to reach Edwin.
From afar, I felt Mana swirling and being drawn towards me.
I drew my sword but didn’t charge. I held the sword upright before my body and straightened my breathing. I forgot the gazes of everyone around me.
I, too, expanded my Qi sense widely.
I considered that attacking first might allow me to capture my opponent, but I didn’t. My objective wasn’t to cut off his head and make him kneel.
It was to perceive and counter. Or to grasp even the slightest possibility of doing so.
While fierce energy surged all around, neither Edwin nor I moved. If anything were shot towards me, I would have immediately deflected it.
I could see his lips moving from afar, but I couldn’t hear what he was muttering. Then, suddenly,
A shiver ran down my spine. I quickly dodged to the front right and rolled once.
Clang, clang, clang, strange sounds echoed belatedly. What pierced the floor faster than the sound were dozens of ice lances. I immediately stood up and stomped hard on the ground.
The boy, who was already looking my way, swung his staff widely towards me, combining his right and left hands. The staff in his grip seemed precarious, about to fall from his thumb, but the power it unleashed was different.
I twisted my body to dodge a fireball shot in a straight line. My ears and cheeks felt hot. I poured Aura into my tightly gripped sword and blocked one.
The fireball, which had no weight or core, split in the middle and scattered harmlessly to the sides as it disappeared. He was right in front of me. I had no time to choose a swordplay technique. I twisted my body left, then spun strongly to the right, swinging my sword.
I thought it might be blocked, but I was taken aback when he vanished before my eyes. I leaped high. With the ceiling at my back, looking down, I saw him standing behind me, extending his staff towards me.
I pushed Sword Energy towards his face. My immature Aura scattered like mist instead of shooting out like a bow. He dodged it, stepping back.
Though I didn’t know the name of the spell, I knew it was a technique for moving short distances instantaneously. The movement, resembling Shape-shifting Evasion (a movement technique that makes it impossible to track the process visually), was indeed no different from the Peak realm.
Effortlessly, I knew where he would go. Following the path drawn in my mind, seven steps southwest. Three northwest. No, four steps.
My heart tightened with excitement, and a laugh escaped me. My speed naturally decreased as I infused my internal energy with the essence of Thousand-Weight Drop (a martial art technique using Qi to increase body weight). I gripped the sword hilt with both hands. I thrust it down from above my head.
Woooooong!
It wasn’t the sound of a sharp collision, nor the sound of an explosion. It was a faint vibration of Qi pressing against Qi that gently resonated through the large hall.
I thought my sword was only touching the round end of his staff, but I soon realized it wasn’t his staff blocking my sword, but a spherical Mana barrier, resembling Sierren’s greenhouse, that was stopping it.
A shield. It was a defensive spell I knew.
I hadn’t experienced it firsthand, so I hadn’t realized it was this powerful.
We stood in silence for a moment, the two long objects between us. A Crimson Gold circle spread from his feet, covering half the hall.
As I noticed his lips begin to move again, I immediately pulled back. I dodged his attempt to grab my ankle and ran. It was a ploy to get behind me.
After dozens of rapid exchanges, I realized he could only cast magic on targets within his line of sight. However, his movements were fast, and the magic he deployed for defense left no blind spots, making it difficult to attack.
Near and far.
I leaped high and crawled low. I spun wide and breathed shallowly. I suppressed my presence and shot quickly. Ice lances fired from near my back, a waterfall of flames pouring down from above my head, vines that coiled around my ankles, sudden earthquakes, and the energy of Magic Power that bound my hands and feet to slow me down—these kept me alive.
I found the solution to the shield he deployed. The moment I deeply pierced a point where the spell formula met another with my sword, I wiped the expression of confidence from my face.
The shield I had pierced crumbled, and instead, it choked my neck.