Chapter 142

If Erucel’s victory was an unexpected twist that defied many predictions, then Mircel’s duel was seen as a fifty-fifty chance, with victory hanging in the balance.

His opponent, Rimlan, was a sorcerer who knew how to use spirit magic. It wasn’t strange to hear comments from the crowd.

“No matter how much of a genius he is, it’ll still be tough, right?”

“Of course. Spirit magic is basically like fighting two against one.”

Spirits could take on various roles, but the most troublesome one for a swordsman was a tank. To get close to the sorcerer, you’d first have to break through the shield, which meant dodging way more spells than usual.

“And think about the age difference. The accumulated experience alone makes a big difference. Can he really win that easily?”

“That’s true. You can’t overlook practical experience.”

There wasn’t a single incorrect word in what they were saying. But if the one they were talking about was Mircel, the story changes.

There’s no way the Tenest family, with its elite tutors and unlimited supply of rare potions, wouldn’t have provided Mircel with plenty of experience fighting against sorcerers.

“And he’s still just a kid, right? In a place like this, where everyone’s watching, he’s bound to get nervous or hesitate in the middle of the fight. All those little things are weaknesses.”

I took my eyes off the chatter nearby. The expression on Mircel’s face, standing on the dueling platform, was nothing but calm.

Rimlan, seemingly offended by being underestimated, furrowed his brow and drew his staff.

“Begin!”

At Professor Gomon’s signal, Mircel drew his wooden sword. A spirit shot out from the magic circle engraved on Rimlan’s forearm.

Whoosh!

It was a rabbit engulfed in blazing flames. Rimlan shouted confidently.

“Go ahead and swing that stick! I’ll turn it to ash!”

Pop!

The rabbit lunged forward like a firework about to explode. Its speed was nearly equal to that of a fired arrow.

Sparks of electricity crackled from Mircel’s sword. Just as the rabbit was about to collide with him, Mircel swung his wooden sword.

Boom!

The rabbit scattered into embers. The audience’s attention was momentarily fixated on the scene.

Swoosh.

The tip of the wooden sword was already aimed at Rimlan’s throat.

“Gasp!”

As Rimlan stood there in shock, Mircel poked him lightly in the throat with the tip of his sword.

Rimlan choked, clutching his throat with both hands. From the way his mouth was gaping open, it seemed he couldn’t speak.

The crowd, stunned by the sudden turn of events, fell silent. The silence was broken by Mircel’s calm voice.

“Don’t feel too bad. That was me moving at full speed.”

“…..”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“You seem to have more skill than I expected.”

With that, Rimlan’s right arm snapped with a crack! His face twisted in pain, but only choked, rasping sounds escaped his gaping mouth.

Mircel swiftly broke his remaining arm with the wooden sword as well. It seemed like Rimlan had at least a little luck on his side—his ordeal could’ve been worse.

After the anticlimactic end to the duel, those who had snapped back to their senses started murmuring.

“W-what was that?”

“Didn’t he close the gap while we were watching the rabbit explode?”

“Does that even make sense? It was all in the blink of an eye.”

What had just happened was a technique known as the “Thunder Step,” a move Aol often used. While its weakness is that it can only go straight, there’s no better technique for fighting sorcerers.

“Well, I guess it’s finally my turn.”

I looked at Kerndel.

He stood there arrogantly with his arms crossed, pretending to be a big shot.

Amusingly, inside, he must be feeling miserable.

His close allies had suffered consecutive defeats, so it’s natural for him to think that we’ve prepared thoroughly.

He would undoubtedly be on full alert and give it his all from the start.

Shall I put on a little show to comfort him?

As I pulled out my staff, Donatan asked in a troubled voice,

‘Hersel, what are you doing without picking up your sword?’

‘Did you already forget that I’m a mage?’

I held my magic staff and planted my feet firmly on the dueling ground.

***

Kerndel felt relieved inside when he saw Hersel holding the staff.

Even though he’s just a first-year mage from the pathetic Schlaphe Hall, he is still the eldest son of the prestigious Tenest family, known for their swordsmanship.

It couldn’t be ruled out that he might have some hidden power.

‘This guy plans to face me with magic? I thought he’d challenge me confidently and show off his swordsmanship…’

It wasn’t what he had expected, but it worked out well for Kerndel.

Athera had definitely mentioned it before.

She had wondered how a guy like this even got into the magic department, despite being from Schlaphe Hall.

Before Professor Gomon could announce the start of the duel, Kerndel tilted his chin upward and spoke,

“I’ve heard about you. They say you’re a bit crazy. Seeing you with my own eyes, I get it now. You’re definitely insane.”

Kerndel genuinely believed that.

Entering the magic department while coming from a family famous for swordsmanship—he thought that couldn’t be the action of a sane person.

He had considered the possibility that Hersel might be relying on his younger siblings to act arrogantly, but it wasn’t something he could be certain about.

After all, the mindset of a madman is beyond understanding.

“They say the only cure for a mad dog is a beating. I hope this experience serves as your remedy.”

As Kerndel sneered, Hersel widened his eyes as if surprised and asked, “Is the source of that baseless rumor Selly?”

“Who’s that?”

“My personal maid.”

‘If even a personal maid says that, it must be pretty serious,’ Kerndel thought to himself.

While Kerndel was mulling it over, Professor Gomon quickly announced the start of the duel.

“Begin!”

Hersel swung his staff with a determined look.

Kerndel’s eyes widened in surprise.

The technique was clean, and the speed was fast.

‘His control over the staff isn’t ordinary. Could this guy actually be beyond the level of a mere student?’

He was nervous, wondering what kind of magic would come flying at him.

Then, a flash of light burst forth, and rows of fiery arrows emerged from the air.

Kerndel broke out in a cold sweat at the surprising sight.

‘What the…?!’

They were tiny fire arrows, no bigger than toothpicks.

Hersel grinned, seemingly satisfied.

Kerndel stood there, mouth agape, unable to close it for a while.

‘Was I worried for nothing…? No, this guy really is crazy.’

Kerndel shook off the unnecessary thoughts.

Then, gripping his wooden sword tightly, he began to walk leisurely, as if taking a stroll.

The flaming toothpicks flew toward him, but they were easily deflected by the aura shield surrounding him.

Ping!

Hersel furrowed his brow and began drawing a new spell.

This time, a wisp of mist no bigger than pocket lint floated toward him.

It looked like a curse spell.

Kerndel blew a puff of air to scatter the mist.

“Phew!”

Hersel seemed flustered, breaking into a cold sweat.

Nevertheless, his hands continued to draw spell formations.

Kerndel suddenly felt an odd sensation on his wrist.

Looking down, he saw a weight attached to it.

It didn’t feel heavy, but it was a bit itchy.

When he scratched it lightly with his fingernail, the weight crumbled into dust.

Hersel spoke hastily, “D-don’t come any closer. If you get within my range, my special magic will hit you full force.”

There was a hint of fear in his voice.

Laughter could be heard from the surrounding spectators, and Kerndel let out a deep sigh.

It was the kind of sigh that came from the realization of the futility of facing an opponent like this.

“I’m starting to feel like this is a waste of my time. But don’t expect me to go easy on you. You’ve angered me enough.”

He had almost reached striking distance.

Kerndel lightly lifted his wooden sword, planning to shatter Hersel’s shoulder first.

At that moment, Hersel’s eyes gleamed as he lowered his voice, “Do you know what physical telekinesis magic is?”

“Wha—what nonsense is that now—ugh?!”

Kerndel felt a chill run down his spine.

Instinctively, he released all his aura, reinforcing his shield.

The reason he held the rank of first duelist was due to his exceptional skills, sharp intuition, and judgment.

And this time, his judgment was right.

!!!!!

Hersel’s staff emitted an ominous force, slicing through the air at tremendous speed.

Its target: his side.

‘This… this is dangerous!’

Crack!

Kerndel felt the sharp pain of his ribs breaking as he coughed up blood.

“Ugh!”

Hersel’s strike wasn’t over yet.

As he continued to swing the staff as if pushing forward, Kerndel’s face was peeled back by the wind, exposing his gums.

It was a full swing.

Kerndel, flying through the air at breakneck speed, saw the tops of the spectators’ heads below him as he passed over the dueling platform.

“Huh? He’s coming this way.”

“Move! He’s about to hit me!”

As the altitude dropped, the crowd scrambled to get out of the way in a panic.

Boom!

Even as his body crashed into the ground, Kerndel, barely clinging to consciousness, squeezed out some words.

“M-magic? No… y-you just hit me with the staff… cough.”

And with that, Kerndel lost consciousness.

Hersel, looking down at him, replied, “I told you. It’s physical telekinesis magic.”

Physical Telekinesis Magic.

Magic that manifests telekinesis through the power of mana.

It was Donatan who pointed out Hersel’s signature magic instead of Kerndel.

‘Please, stop scamming just because you’re a mage!’

‘Why? Even *Liquid Gold* ultimately uses mana. And didn’t I grab a staff, not a sword?’

‘What kind of mage hits people with a staff?!’

***

Even in summer, the early morning air is chilly.

Practicing footwork with *Liquid Gold* wrapped around my legs in the dew-soaked grass.

I still needed to improve my proficiency.

The truth is, my victory over Kerndel was just luck.

Even though he seems like a fool, he’s still the top duelist.

If I hadn’t lured him into letting his guard down, I would have been hit by his initial strike, and the “one-second invincibility” would’ve been on cooldown, making it impossible to deliver my decisive blow.

To avoid facing such a situation again, I needed to be able to easily dodge his attacks.

“Huff, huff.”

‘You’re doing well, Hersel. Your footwork is getting faster little by little.’

After training until sweat drenched my back, I was out of breath.

Taking a moment to rest, I leaned against a tree and gazed up at the fortress.

I let out a sigh and fell into thought.

“Hoo…”

It’s already been two days since the *Ten Elites* ended.

To summarize what’s happened since then, there was a minor incident where Kerndel threw a fit.

It seems he heard rumors about the ‘Blood Viper Berme’ from somewhere.

“You bastards, did you dare deceive me?!”

He tried to take revenge on a few people, starting with Athera, but it was pointless.

“Think of it as divine retribution, senior. Being hated this much is proof of how despicably you’ve acted.”

“Ugh.”

Now, just looking at me makes Kerndel’s attitude immediately humble.

It’s not only because he’s scared.

We also made a deal.

“I’m giving the top duelist position back to Kerndel.”

I reinstated Kerndel as the first seat.

Having already tasted power, he agreed to comply without much resistance.

Of course, his close allies strongly opposed this.

Especially Berthnal, who voiced many complaints.

“Hersel, what on earth are you talking about? Giving that guy his position back?”

Still, there was a crucial reason why this had to be done.

The top students must remain in their positions until graduation, as they are the enemies that the main characters need to overcome.

And then there’s the student council.

They’ll appear as the bosses in our second year.

If I were to sit in the First Seat, I’d have no choice but to deal with them whenever handing over the *Bal’s Badge* or whatever.

I wanted to avoid getting on their radar prematurely.

So, I persuaded Kerndel’s close allies with a plan that would kill two birds with one stone.

“I’m going to use Kerndel as my puppet. If he doesn’t behave, I’ll beat him up and replace him with someone else.”

It was a declaration that I’d become the real power behind the scenes.

Of course, I’d let the villains who would help the main characters grow continue their tyranny.

“First, remove the shower ban imposed by the first-years of the Adele Hall. Do the same for the dining hall. Oh, but keep the punishments going.”

This would allow them to be consumed by revenge, pushing them to grow stronger.

I ended it by letting them breathe just enough to keep them angry.

And I emphasized one crucial point to them.

“Lastly, make sure my name never comes up with the student council. If they ask, just say I stepped down voluntarily because I lost interest. Tell the regular students the same.”

This was to conceal my position as the hidden power from both the student council and the main characters.

Fortunately, the top students accepted this without much resistance.

It helped that I kindly explained the consequences if they didn’t comply.

“If you don’t do as you’re told, Kerndel, consider your life forfeit. And, are you aware that Dorosian, who’s currently unaffiliated, is in the same class as me? Now that I mention it, should I invite her here sometime?”

At the mention of Dorosian, the top students’ faces contorted in fear.

No wonder—Aros, who was the Second Seat, declared she would never set foot near the *Ten Elites* again, so traumatized was she by her.

There was no way a few ants like them could defeat the apex predator, Dorosian.

“Now that I mention it, should I invite her here sometime?”

I knew exactly how to keep her stationed in the *Ten Elites* lounge.

Just get her some bootleg liquor, and it’ll be easy.

And that wasn’t the only card I had up my sleeve.

“Even if you don’t like it, follow my lead. And don’t think about rebelling. We can always outvote you in the end.”

Even if they succeeded in rebelling, I could render their efforts meaningless.

They’d already seen how Erucel and Mircel had sent Meldon, the Seventh seat, and Rimlan, the third, to the infirmary.

I could just send them back there.

“If you guys try to overthrow Berthnal and Emeric and take power, my siblings will personally deliver you to the infirmary. And then, we’ll have the majority again.”

After that, there were no further objections.

That’s how I took control of the *Ten Elites* from the shadows and got the scenario back on track.

That concludes the *Ten Elites*.

Now, all that’s left is to hope things go smoothly.

“I just hope I can graduate safely…”

As I closed my eyes and prayed, raindrops began to fall.

When I looked up, I saw that the sky had begun to darken with storm clouds.

“Damn, it’s already the rainy season.”

It wasn’t an ordinary rainy season.

The rainy season of the first semester for first-years is a sign of a new event.

It seems the academy will be lively for a while.

***

The torrential rain poured down.

Whoosh!

The fortress of Frost Heart was located at a high altitude.

While there was no danger of flooding, being situated on a steep mountain meant that landslides were inevitable.

Professor Gomon frowned as he looked at the puddle forming in the pit he was digging.

His hobby was dungeon exploration and artifact hunting, and there were many among the Pathfinders who were obsessed with such pursuits, but Professor Gomon was particularly extreme.

“Ugh, this rain is troublesome, isn’t it, Stone Bear?”

The stone golem beside him, Stone Bear, nodded its head.

“Hmph. I’m sure there’s a secret hidden here somewhere.”

Professor Gomon was itching with excitement.

He had spent the past few nights poring over the academy’s ancient archives.

He had found clues that this land held something suspicious, and although he had begun his excavation, the rain had forced a halt.

‘Should I use magic to drain the water? No, I don’t know what might be buried here. I could damage something.’

Excavation was a delicate process.

He had seen countless people ruin valuable relics by being careless.

With a sigh of regret, Professor Gomon turned away.

“Ah, it’s ruined. Absolutely ruined.”

But then, Stone Bear tugged at his robe.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

Stone Bear pointed to the puddle.

From it, a sphere and long sticks began to emerge.

They were almost white in color.

“Whoa! There’s something here!”

Carefully, Professor Gomon used telekinesis to float the objects closer to him.

What he had thought were a sphere and sticks turned out to be human bones.

“What is this?”

But something was off—several things, in fact.

‘Aren’t bones supposed to sink in water? And these look… strange.’

His curiosity piqued, Professor Gomon arranged the bone fragments one by one with telekinesis, and soon, his eyes widened in shock.

For on the skull’s forehead were two small horns—something no human should have.

Moreover, there were more bones than a typical human skeleton would have.

“Hmmm.”

Professor Gomon, with his interest in archaeology, quickly deduced the function of the other bones.

‘Tail bones and wing bones?’

While it could be a peculiar species of monster, further investigation was required.

Professor Gomon grinned.

If this turned out to be a significant discovery, the scholarly community would be in an uproar, and he might even receive a medal from the headquarters, with his name etched into the Mage Tower.

Excited, Professor Gomon carried the bones back to his laboratory with a spring in his step.

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