Chapter 126
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 126
After school.
The Union Grand Auditorium was the designated venue for the opening match of the Competition Season. While not quite as massive as Ishtal’s grand stadium, it was still a gargantuan space capable of seating over ten thousand people.
A wide wooden floor was surrounded by tiers of spectator seats, with ornate lights and electronic scoreboards hanging from the high ceiling. It looked remarkably like a modern NBA arena.
I’d heard a massive hole had been blasted through the ceiling during my inauguration, but the repairs were clearly finished; it looked perfectly fine now.
Thirty minutes remained before the opening match. The auditorium was already swarming with students who had flocked to witness the event. The crowd had swelled to bursting in the short time it had taken me to grab some snacks and drinks. I just hoped I wouldn't end up wearing the popcorn and soda I was carrying.
Amidst the chaos, a voice cried out.
“Hey, stop pushing! Help me!”
Trish, hampered by her small stature, was being tossed around like a leaf in the tide. It was a comical sight—only the tip of her pointed hat was visible as she struggled to stay upright among the sea of students.
The reason I was with Trish was simple: when I’d stopped by the Alchemy Club to grab a soda, she’d asked to watch the match with me. I’d readily agreed; it’s always better to watch a game with company than alone.
Watching Trish get swept away, I deployed my Aegis.
Vwoom—.
A translucent barrier formed around me, gently pushing back the dense crowd and carving out a pocket of breathing room. Only then did Trish manage to scramble to my side and catch her breath.
“Agh, why didn't you do that sooner? You did that on purpose, didn't you?”
Ignoring her grumbling, I scanned the spectator stands.
“There are no seats left.”
The prime spots had been snatched up long ago. Now, only the back rows remained, offering a poor view of the center stage. Looking at the packed stands, Trish asked, “You're the Student Council President. Don't you have reserved seats or something?”
“Who would bother saving a seat for me?”
“Ah.”
Trish let out a sigh of realization, but she didn't give up.
“Then show them the power of your authority. Or the power of money! Don't you think someone would give up their seat if you slipped them some cash?”
She was actually suggesting I bribe a student for their seat, not even a scalper.
“I'd rather not add to my list of vices.”
I had no desire to start rumors that I was seizing seats through bribery or abuse of power. I was content to watch quietly from the back.
Just as Trish and I were wandering in search of a gap, a voice called out.
“Over here, Roen~!”
From a section slightly partitioned off from the general seating—the equivalent of a VIP box or a players' bench with the absolute best view of the arena—Elena was waving.
I realized I’d have to sit next to Elena again. Thanks to Tubal-Cain’s Star, I didn't have to worry about the ring's durability, but I wasn't exactly thrilled. It felt like her constant approaches were driven by some hidden motive.
As I hesitated, Trish gave me a firm shove from behind.
“What are you doing? Someone's offering us prime real estate! Let's go. While you're at it, let me squeeze into the back row.”
“...Fine.”
Since a seat was available, I might as well take it.
As I approached, I saw that Freya and Kiriel were already settled in the VIP section. I took a seat in the very front row, while Trish managed to snag an empty spot in the row directly behind me. She looked delighted to have lucked into such a great view.
As I sat down, Elena’s eyes drifted to the bucket in my hand.
“You bought popcorn? Can I have some?”
“Sure, but it's caramel. If you're on a diet...”
“...”
For a split second, I felt a flash of murderous intent in Elena’s eyes. I immediately corrected myself; her diet was clearly a state secret.
“...Never mind. There's plenty, let's share.”
Eating a whole bucket by myself would have been a chore anyway. When I offered it, Elena’s expression brightened instantly.
“Thank you.”
Instead of reaching into the bucket, Elena glanced at her attendants. They immediately produced a bowl from somewhere and held it out.
“Here, pour some in.”
“...”
Without a word, I tilted the bucket and filled her bowl. I wondered why she was taking mine when she clearly had the resources to buy her own, but I tactfully swallowed the complaint.
As if reading my mind, Elena spoke.
“Sharing makes it taste better, don't you think?”
‘More like taking someone else's food tastes better,’ I thought.
I shrugged and pulled a notebook from my coat, handing it to her.
“This is the information on the Northern Three-headed Wolf you requested. Take it.”
“This quickly?”
“It was information I already had on hand. Still, I cross-verified everything just in case. I couldn't give you anything inaccurate.”
“Thank you. If there's anything you want as payment, send a letter to the Seintea Student Council office. I'll see to it personally.”
“Understood.”
As we spoke, Beatrice approached and took the seat next to us.
“It has been a while.”
“Beatrice, you're here too.”
The two exchanged formal greetings. Then, Elena brought up the topic on everyone's mind.
“Beatrice, between our Senior Leonhardt and your Senior Gawain, who do you think will win?”
Leonhardt of Seintea and Gawain of Eredor. The two had a long-standing rivalry over the title of the strongest in their year. The Union Daily had even run a poll to predict the winner, proving the massive public interest. After all, there is no entertainment quite like a clash between titans.
Beatrice answered without hesitation.
“I am not particularly invested in the outcome, but one must support their own. I will bet on Senior Gawain.”
“Hmm. Roen, what about you?”
I answered simply.
“I believe their skills are too close to call.”
“Aww, that's no fun. Just pick one.”
“Hm.”
I stroked my chin, considering. There really wasn't a significant gap in skill between Gawain and Leonhardt; the outcome would likely depend on their condition that day. Still, if I had to choose right now...
“It would be Gawain.”
Beatrice offered a faint, satisfied smile, while Elena narrowed her eyes, looking slightly miffed.
“And your reasoning?”
“Their skills are evenly matched, so the fight will likely be a war of attrition. When skills are equal, the one on the defensive usually holds the advantage.”
It was the same principle I’d used to wear down Chepesi. Considering the difference in stamina consumption between attacking and defending, the defender usually has the upper hand.
“Then wouldn't our Senior Leonhardt have the advantage?” Elena countered.
“Normally, yes.”
I nodded. Furthermore, considering Gawain’s traits, it wasn't technically time for his talent to fully blossom yet. In terms of raw, absolute power, Leonhardt should have the edge. However...
‘This is exactly when Gawain would have had his awakening.’
During the winter break before his third year, Gawain is triggered by a [Growth Quest]. If he cleared that quest through his secluded training, he would have gained a new level of enlightenment. Therefore, his chances today were slightly higher. Even for characters with similar stats, performance fluctuates based on when they "class up" or enhance their skills.
“Gawain likely honed a new technique during his secluded training. I'm betting on that possibility.”
“True, Senior Gawain always returns from seclusion with some incredible new combat art. That is a sharp analysis, Roen.”
Beatrice nodded, looking pleased. She’d claimed she wasn't interested in the outcome, but she clearly enjoyed me siding with Eredor.
Elena, her competitive spirit flared, proposed a wager.
“Then shall we make a small bet on the outcome? Just a simple wager for dinner.”
“You really do love betting. Fine, dinner it is.”
“Sounds good. Beatrice, you in?”
“I see no reason to refuse.”
With Beatrice on board, Elena extended the offer to the two who had been listening quietly.
“Kiriel, Freya, you two should join in. We can all have a meal together. We need to discuss the summer training camp anyway.”
“Sh-should I?” Kiriel stammered. Her ears had been twitching as she eavesdropped, and she scratched her head awkwardly as if caught.
“Understood,” Freya said with a slow nod, agreeing to the bet without further reaction.
After a bit more chatter, a kind-faced old man walked to the center of the auditorium and took the microphone.
Tap, tap—.
“Heh heh, welcome, everyone. This is your Chairman, Hengard Ubelon.”
As his voice echoed through the speakers, the arena fell into an expectant silence.
“I am truly delighted that so many outstanding students are attending Union during my term. You could truly call this a golden generation. Please, enjoy today's opening match of the Competition Season—the clash between Gawain and Leonhardt. Let the match begin.”
“Waaaah!”
He wasn't the most reliable Chairman, but the students cheered nonetheless—partly out of excitement for the fight, and partly because the speech was mercifully short.
As the Chairman stepped back, grand music swelled. The Disciplinary Committee members of Eredor and Seintea marched out from the tunnel next to the VIP section in a formal procession. Their dignified appearance was reminiscent of a national team entering an Olympic arena.
Following them were the two combatants.
Gawain Ardion, a handsome youth with dark blue eyes and hair.
Leonhardt Michael, a tall student with striking platinum-blonde hair.
Gawain wore a tunic under light armor and carried a single longsword. Leonhardt was encased in pure white plate armor, wielding a massive greatsword and a shield that covered half his body.
The two stood in the center of the arena, raised their hands, and recited an oath of fair play. In the sudden silence, their promises of an honorable match echoed through the hall. Once finished, they gave each other a silent nod and touched their student ID cards together.
Zzwoong—.
Simultaneously, a transparent magic barrier enveloped the arena to protect the audience from stray spells or shockwaves.
“The opening match will follow the standard rules of the Competition,” the announcer declared. “The match ends when one combatant is incapacitated, forfeits, or when time runs out. Now... begin!”
“Waaaah!”
Amidst the thunderous cheers, the first official match of the semester began.
“...”
Even as the cheers shook the auditorium, the two fighters faced each other in a pocket of absolute silence, staring each other down as if they were in a different dimension.
Chk—.
Leonhardt raised his shield, bracing it in front of him, while his other hand gripped the hilt of the greatsword on his back. It was a rock-solid stance—perfect for blocking an attack and immediately transitioning into a heavy counter. Even from a distance, he looked like a fortress; facing him directly, one would find no openings at all.
Then.
Fwip—.
Gawain, who had been waiting for the perfect moment, moved first. He kicked off the ground, charging forward like a bolt of lightning. A dark, ink-colored strike flashed from his hip.
Swish—.
The blade cut through the air, striking Leonhardt’s shield with pinpoint precision.
Clang—!
Sparks erupted. Leonhardt shoved forward with his shield to break Gawain’s momentum, then immediately swung his greatsword in a wide arc.
Vwoosh—.
It was a heavy, crushing blow. Gawain danced backward to dodge and pressed a hand against the wooden floor.
Squelch—.
Upon his touch, a pit of thick mud instantly formed beneath Leonhardt’s feet.
“...!”
Leonhardt, who had put his full weight into the swing, momentarily staggered.
Thud—.
But in an instant, a pure white magic shield materialized beneath his boots, providing a solid platform. It was a clever application of the divine spell, Holy Shield.
Boom—!!
Using that momentum, Leonhardt struck the floor.
Kwagwagwa—.
A wave of pure white energy, imbued with divine power, tore through the floorboards and rushed toward Gawain.
Swoosh—.
Gawain slashed the air.
Crack—.
A cross-shaped sword aura manifested, slicing the divine wave apart. Simultaneously, multiple magic circles erupted behind Gawain, unleashing a torrent of fire, ice, and lightning.
Kwagwagwa—!
‘Triple Casting!’
It was difficult enough to calculate and cast a single spell in the heat of combat, yet Gawain was manifesting three different elements at once. Leonhardt quickly raised his shield and deployed a holy barrier.
The magical baptism hammered against the translucent cross-shaped shield.
Fwoom-fwoom-fwoom—.
Mana of various colors poured down upon the pure white defense. Holy barriers were designed to block demonic energy and monsters; their resistance to standard elemental magic wasn't as high.
Crack—.
Fractures spread across Leonhardt’s barrier until it finally shattered under the barrage.
Boom—!
A cloud of spent mana filled the arena. Gawain used the smoke as cover, launching a rapid, precise series of strikes. As the spectacular exchange of offense and defense continued, the tension in the auditorium reached a fever pitch.
“Uooooh!”
“Aaaah...!”
With every clash, the students let out cries of awe and gasps of disbelief.
Kagagang—!
Boom—!
Every collision of sword and shield, every explosion of magic, was a masterclass in high-level combat. Even I found it hard to look away. To see the cinematic fights I’d played in the game happening right in front of my eyes was surreal. It really felt like I’d entered the game... which, of course, I had.
I watched their exchange closely, gathering data. The most significant takeaway was that they weren't just using in-game skills; they had completely mastered them, employing them with creative, fluid intuition. They were adept at combos, relying on innate combat sense to deploy their abilities at the perfect moment for maximum impact.
They were on a completely different level than the second-year students.
‘Even if I know every skill they’re using,’ I mused, narrowing my eyes, ‘it would be incredibly difficult to read their movements and react in time, like I did with Handol or Chepesi.’
This was a level of combat where mere information wasn't enough to bridge the gap. To defeat opponents this powerful, I would need to increase my own martial prowess and secure a more reliable artifact.
‘The foundation work for the floor should be finishing up soon.’
The Cognitive Acceleration Stone, currently dormant on the Izelin Academy grounds. If I could obtain that artifact—which accelerates the user's cognition and slows their perception of time...
‘It would allow me to perfectly predict an opponent's movements and skill usage, giving me the time I need to react.’
With that, I’d have a solid foundation to stand against monsters like these.
I let out a quiet sigh and continued to observe. I was learning a lot. Specifically, I saw the path I should take in Gawain’s style. As a magic swordsman, he freely mixed spells into his swordplay to pressure his opponent before landing critical hits with sword aura.
There was a massive gap in our current power, but his style was fundamentally similar to mine—using elixirs to enhance my body while firing off magic. If I got the chance, I wanted to get in touch with Gawain and learn the secrets of his combat flow.
As I studied Gawain’s movements, Beatrice spoke softly from beside me.
“You are paying very close attention to Senior Gawain’s fighting style.”
“Of course. I bet on him to win.”
“It is more than just that, isn't it?”
“What do you mean?”
As I tilted my head in question, Beatrice leaned in and whispered calmly in my ear.
“Because you, Roen, also have the makings of a magic swordsman.”