Duel (1)
“I thought I made myself clear. Don’t go peeping into places where nobles live, you commoner.”
The lobby had been quiet, so Sagar Bruce’s voice—he was from the noble class—carried through the entire dormitory entrance hall.
“I’m sorry. But I never looked that way.”
Ellen lowered his head a little as he spoke.
“So you’re saying I’m making things up?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You little shit. People have been treating you well lately, so now you think you’re on the same level as us?”
“How could I possibly think that?”
Even under Bruce’s blatant provocation, Ellen only offered flat-faced apologies. Getting tangled up with these types would bring him nothing but trouble.
“Hey, you lot. All of you, get over here.”
Apparently irritated by Ellen’s attitude, Bruce called over a group of commoner students who had been passing through the lobby. They were classmates, but a commoner could not refuse a noble’s summons.
“What’s with you, glancing over here as you walk by?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
The commoners looked flustered, at a complete loss.
“The face of a high noble isn’t something the likes of you are allowed to look at head-on!”
“I-I-I’m sorry!”
One of the commoner students hastily bent at the waist.
“This one, that one—none of you are to my liking. Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson today.”
With that, Bruce grabbed the bowed student by the collar.
Crack!
The open-handed slap came out of nowhere; the commoner student could barely keep his wits. His lip had split, and he could taste blood. Still, terrified that any of it might stain Bruce’s arm, he did not even dare open his mouth.
“Walk around with your heads on straight. Keep this in mind as you live: if this weren’t the academy, I could kill you anytime I wanted.”
Bruce raised his arm for another blow—then Ellen stepped forward.
“That’s enough.”
“What? This bastard has some nerve!”
Bruce released the commoner’s collar and immediately threw a punch at Ellen.
Whoosh!
Ellen slipped the fist with effortless ease. Bruce had been raised soft as the son of a high noble; his punches posed no threat whatsoever.
Whoosh—whoosh.
Bruce threw a few more. Ellen didn’t even need to move his feet to avoid them.
I can’t just hit a noble brat either, damn it.
Then again, he couldn’t keep dodging forever either. Ellen spun half a turn in place, adding rotational force as he launched a kick.
Wham!
“Hrrk!”
Bruce sucked in a sharp breath as Ellen’s foot stopped dead, right in front of his face.
“I think that friend of yours has gotten the message by now. Please stop.”
“You—you—I’ll kill you for this!”
Bruce staggered backward, then bolted for the noble wing at a dead run.
“Th-thank you.”
The student who had been slapped offered his gratitude.
“They only picked a fight because of me. I’m the one who should apologize.”
“That was satisfying, Ellen.”
“You’re good at hand-to-hand too?”
“When did you even practice martial arts?”
“Prodigies really are different.”
The students around them gave Ellen thumbs-up. They were exhausted by the open discrimination that ran through the academy itself. Ellen’s intervention had given them a little room to breathe.
Even after that, plenty of nobles came looking for trouble with Ellen. Each time, he drove them off with nothing more than the threat of his martial skill. Among the commoner students, he was hailed as a hero.
“Today we have the sparring examination. As mages, the place you will see the most action is the battlefield. For that reason, combat is an extremely important element for any mage.”
The students’ reactions split cleanly in two. The commoner class let out resigned sighs; the noble class smiled.
We’re supposed to be their magic practice dummies? How are we supposed to beat them?
The reality of the sparring exams was that they served as a confidence-building stage for the noble students. The nobles arrived already educated in basic magic, so their skill far outstripped the commoners’. Sparring against them was essentially an invitation to stand there and take their spells.
There had been exceptions, of course. In the years Hameron attended the academy, five noble-class students had been broken by him. After that, no one challenged Hameron in the exams, so the casualty count never rose higher.
Finally we get to watch that guy get wrecked.
But what the noble students were really looking forward to this time was something else entirely: Chedleton smashing Ellen to pieces. They wanted him to pay Ellen back for every humiliation they had suffered.
“Noble class, Sagar Bruce. Commoner class, Kinber. Step forward.”
The sparring exams always pitted one noble against one commoner. That, too, was a courtesy for the noble side.
“Gah!”
Not long after the match began, Kinber was sent sprawling across the floor.
“Sagar Bruce, victory! Will you continue to the next match?”
The winner of a bout could choose to keep sparring or step down. The method had been devised because commoner students vastly outnumbered nobles.
“Yes.”
“Next, commoner class, Locke.”
After that, every commoner student met the same fate as Kinber. Most of the commoner class were only 1st Circle; most of the nobles were already 2nd Circle. Having a 1st Circle whose only combat spell was Magic Missile duel a 2nd Circle was absurd on its face.
“Next, commoner class, Ellen.”
At last it was Ellen’s turn. Every commoner student looked his way with eyes full of expectation.
“I’ve been waiting for this. The ban on using magic is over.”
Bruce was certain he held the advantage when it came to combat magic.
“I look forward to a good match.”
Ellen simply offered the formal sparring bow and ignored Bruce’s words completely.
“You—!”
Bruce started to flare up, but Bezel quickly restrained him.
“Fight only after the match begins. Both of you are expected to observe the sparring regulations carefully. Begin!”
The instant Bezel’s words left his mouth, Bruce launched into an incantation.
“Become a fiercely burning flame and incinerate everything. Fireball.”
Whooosh.
The 2nd Circle spell Fireball streaked toward Ellen.
“Mana, unleash your power. Magic Missile.”
Ellen could cast without chanting. But revealing that ability this early was dangerous; there was no telling what the research-obsessed magic towers might do. A short incantation was more than enough to pass off as talent.
Stupid bastard. What do you think a 1st Circle spell is going to do?
Bruce sneered as he watched Ellen use the exact same magic as every opponent he had faced so far.
Thump.
The Fireball collided with the Magic Missile. The result was nothing like he expected. His Fireball scattered into the air and vanished.
“H-how could a 1st Circle spell…?”
“A higher Circle doesn’t automatically mean stronger. Mana, unleash your power. Magic Missile.”
Ellen chanted again at once and manifested the spell. Panicking, Bruce began the incantation for a shield.
Boom.
He never had time to finish the longer 2nd Circle chant. Ellen’s Magic Missile struck its target before Bruce could complete the spell. Hit square in the chest, he toppled backward.
“Ghhh…!”
“In an emergency, it’s better to block with a 1st Circle spell.”
Ellen helped the chest-clutching Bruce back to his feet as he spoke.
“E-Ellen, victory.”
Bezel stammered, caught completely off guard by the outcome.
This kid is already truncating chants as a first-year? How high is his mana affinity?
Ellen was performing at a level that would rank among the top of the graduating class; Bezel was more than a little rattled.
“I’ll continue.”
“Huh? Oh—right. Next…”
Ellen’s words snapped Bezel back to himself.
“That’s impossible. How many students has he taken down with nothing but a 1st Circle Magic Missile?”
It wasn’t only Bezel. Even the instructors observing the sparring matches could not close their mouths at the sight of Ellen.
“I’ll do it.”
While everyone else was still whispering, Chedleton stepped forward.
“Finally, Chedleton.”
“Yes! Chedleton’s already 3rd Circle, you know.”
“A first-year at 3rd Circle? That can’t be right.”
“It’s true. Last time he put someone to sleep with Sleep magic.”
Chedleton’s appearance set the noble side buzzing. On the commoner side, the students looked at Ellen with eyes full of sympathy. No matter how far he could fly, beating a 3rd Circle like Chedleton seemed impossible.
“Instructor Bezel, even if Chedleton is a first-year, having a 3rd Circle fighter step up is unfair. Everyone knows his skill is already on par with the graduating class.”
Latard, who had been watching the matches, spoke carefully to Bezel. Given Chedleton’s behavior so far, he feared Ellen could be seriously hurt.
“Chedleton is still a first-year student. He needs experience as well. This will also be a chance for Ellen to check his arrogance and learn how profound the world of magic truly is.”
Bezel dropped his voice so only Latard could hear.
“Do you have any idea how many noble scions have had their dignity trampled by that boy’s actions so far? He needs to be shown his place.”
Both in skill and in official rank, Bezel stood higher; Latard could offer no reply.
Those shameless bastards!
Latard himself had originally been a commoner. He had only become a noble after being adopted into a noble house once he became a mage. Because of that, he understood the contempt shown to commoners all too well. But there was little a subordinate could do. All he could do was pray his prized student would not be badly injured—and resolve to step in himself if things went too far.
“Then the duel between Ellen and Rick Chedleton will begin.”