That's My Specialty
Federico Academy Practice Hall A.
The entrance exam hall had already been bigger than your average gymnasium, but the practice room took it to another level.
Twenty Battle Tables stood in neat rows, and Professor Georgia—who looked half-dead—finally opened his mouth.
"We're starting the duel training now... yawn. First, we'll assign numbers."
"Numbers...?"
Someone muttered in confusion, but he didn't bother answering. Instead, he snapped his fingers with a sharp crack.
A flock of butterflies fluttered in from afar, their wings rustling. On closer inspection, they weren't real butterflies—just enchanted paper mimicking them.
"Catch 'em if you can."
Ah, nothing's ever straightforward here. While the other kids froze, trying to figure it out, I drew on my past-life experience and snatched a paper butterfly fluttering overhead.
Anyone who's done military service knows: bugs are everywhere near base. Especially those palm-sized moths we called Tinkerbells—they'd show up every night watch.
...And my senior, Choi Taewon, that guy would grab them every time he spotted one. If we were on duty together, he'd drag me into it.
Needless to say, I'd gotten pretty good at snagging flying insects.
The paper butterfly in my hand crumbled to dust with a soft hiss, leaving a powdery residue like moth scales that made my skin crawl.
I opened my palm, and a glowing slip of paper floated up, tracing the number 39 in the air. Guess that's mine.
"Ah, I see! My thanks, Ricardo Bardi!!"
Alexander Wales Belluraca—the Belluraca prince whose family hunted whales for generations—flashed his pearly whites and leaped high.
His thighs bulged with power, shoving off the ground. The paper butterfly in his massive, rough hand fluttered pitifully before disintegrating.
His number was 27. He snorted, scratching his chin at the middling draw.
Once our little show got the message across, the other students scrambled everywhere in a frenzy.
Not everyone could jump in without hesitation, though.
"Eeeek~."
No matter that they were just paper and magic—even fake bugs were poison to the bug-phobic. Adella Rain Belluna, sweat beading on her drowsy, dopey face, let out a weak yelp as she dodged the fluttering menaces.
Unable to watch, I flicked my hand. A translucent mechanical arm materialized with a creaky jerk, snagging a butterfly and handing it to her.
That's magic in this world for you—manifesting a fraction of a card's creature power.
Mage towers go further, refining and developing proper spells, but I have zero interest in that scene.
I've seen a few tower mages, and no joke—they're dead ringers for grad students. I want to live like a person.
Anyway, the kids dodging butterflies could just use magic themselves. Fear must be clouding their judgment.
"Th-thanks... huff, Ricardo~ huff, you saved me~. huff!"
"Yeah, yeah. Catch your breath first."
I handed a handkerchief to Adella, who was panting like she'd run a marathon after a short sprint. She hiccuped through a goofy grin as the number 16 appeared above her head.
"...Ahem."
"Ah! Allow me to assist, Your Highness!"
"...Very well. I appreciate the gesture, young Lord Borromeo. However, at the academy..."
"My apologies!"
"Eek...!"
With everyone's numbers assigned, Professor Georgia scratched his head and pulled a die from his pocket—the same one Marquis Medici had used during entrance exams.
"Now, Marquis Medici's die will decide the duel order. Yawn. I won't explain again, so pay attention."
As he swung his arm, the ancient enchanted die spun in midair, its faces randomly cycling numbers in real time.
1 - 14. 2 - 27. 3 - 46. 4 - 52. 5 - 11...
The students buzzed as opponents were paired.
Soon enough, my number 39 got matched with 17. Who was that? Not Alexander or Adella, at least.
"Ahem, pardon the intrusion. You're number 39, correct?"
A clear, feminine voice came from behind. I turned to see the golden-haired, red-eyed beauty from the lecture hall.
"Ah, yes. That's me."
"I see. Looks like I'm your opponent. Since we're here, shall we introduce ourselves?"
She extended a pale hand, her face oddly excited.
"I am Alessia Le Fell Ardia, princess of the Kingdom of Ardia."
Aigoo, a princess after all. I carefully shook her hand.
"An honor, Your Highness. I'm Ricardo Bardi."
"No need for such formality at the academy. The progenitor archmage decreed that all students must have equal opportunity."
Equal, huh. Pretty hollow words. Once you graduate, that facade crumbles fast.
Of course, I couldn't mouth off, so I just nodded along.
"Alright... Let's split into groups of twenty and duel. The rest, hit the spectator seats."
At Professor Georgia's casual command, we headed to the stands encircling the arena. As duels kicked off, Alessia peppered me with questions.
Family relations smooth? Rough trip to the academy? Everyday chit-chat, at first glance.
As I answered politely, I started piecing together her angle.
She thinks I've been abused or something.
Makes sense. Origin Cards, including Zones, reflect the user's psyche. My Lost World and Noctilus don't exactly scream "healthy mind."
No way she'd guess reincarnated soul, so her mind jumped to family trauma.
A rare dragonkin creature owner with mental issues? Better nip that in the bud with some concern.
Of course, my messed-up psyche stems purely from my past life, so I defended my family and house vigorously.
Doubt lingered on Alessia's face, but my efforts mostly dispelled it.
"Is that all you've got, commoner!!"
A sharp yell cut through from the arena. I looked down to see the guy from lecture hall—the one who'd locked eyes with me—berating his opponent.
Diego Borromeo, was it? Marquis's son.
Across from him cowered a scrawny boy.
Just this much? Looked solid to me. He'd given Diego headaches right up to the end—face all red and everything.
Making Nicola Class as a commoner, no family pull? Impressive.
Erhun's deck was fluffy, cute animals that bounced back to hand when targeted, disrupting the foe—real pains.
Sole weakness: lack of finishing power.
"This ends it! I attack your pests with Viper King Gorgon Basilisk! Its evil eye seals their escape!"
"Ugh...!"
"Venom Fang Barrage!!"
The massive serpent coiled on Diego's field bared its poisoned fangs, shredding Erhun's creature. Girls screamed as Erhun's Soul Points hit zero.
"Hmph! That's what you get crawling where you don't belong, commoner! No idea how you slimed into Nicola Class, but know your place and scram!"
Tsk. This guy's crossing lines.
Alessia beside me and even Professor Georgia looked uncomfortable. Oblivious, he kept showboating—infuriating.
"...Poor thing."
The timid girl next to Alessia—who'd been hiccuping nonstop—clutched her old amulet, eyes full of pity. Even her amulet's kaleidoscope shimmered more chaotically than usual.
What to do? That glare he shot me in class... Guy needs putting down. But my fuel efficiency sucks.
Might need Noctilus for a marquis's son.
Plus, can't ignore my duel partner, Alessia.
"Go on."
"Pardon?"
She caught my intent quick, smiling faintly to preempt me.
"You want to face young Lord Borromeo, don't you? It's written all over your face."
"Th-that obvious?"
"Pay him no mind and go. A man standing against injustice shouldn't be stopped. But."
She paused, her fiery eyes gleaming as she added,
"I've been looking forward to our duel too. Save it for later, yes?"
"If that's the case... Yes, I promise."
"Break that arrogant nose of his while you're at it. Can't have him ignoring the progenitor archmage's will."
"Eek...!"
Alessia flashed a fierce grin; the timid girl beside her shrank back for no reason.
The latter didn't matter... This princess? We might get along.
Yeah. My blood's been boiling at the injustice. Gotta crush that smug punk to cool off.
I grinned back at her.
"That's my specialty."