Jealousy (1)
I stared at Freed standing across from me.
He wasn’t taking any stance at all. He simply stood there, eyes locked on me.
Is he waiting for me to make the first move?
I scanned for any other options, but nothing stood out. There were no hidden tricks in sight.
Might as well go for it.
My opponent clearly had no intention of coming to me. Testing him with a light approach seemed like the smartest play.
Fwoosh.
I summoned a haze of flames. A streak of red fire shot forward, hurtling straight toward Freed.
Clang!
He sliced through the flames with his sword. It looked effortless at first glance, but his posture told a different story. He wasn’t relaxed at all.
He’s not that strong.
I’d launched the fire, and he’d cut it down. That brief exchange gave me all the information I needed. Without hesitation, I charged.
My fist thrust forward, flames rippling along it like a threatening spear.
Boom!
Freed hastily wrapped his blade in mana to block. A low groan escaped him.
“Ugh…”
He staggered for a split second. I didn’t let the opening pass. My fist swung again.
Boooom!
I hadn’t even infused this punch with mana, yet he struggled immensely to stop it. Watching him, I spoke.
“Why did you ask for this spar?”
“What…?”
He sounded like he hadn’t heard me properly. I drove the point home.
“I asked why someone weaker than me would bother challenging me to a spar.”
I studied Freed’s face. His ears had gone bright red. Looked like he was embarrassed.
“…Shut up.”
His voice shook as he spat the words.
“Shut up? Why should I? It’s the truth.”
Those words must have cut him like a knife.
“…I said shut up!”
Mana surged along his blade as he raised it high overhead.
His form is too wide open.
It hadn’t been much of a provocation, but he’d lost his cool instantly. The sword came crashing down.
With a sharp crack, the blade flew from his grip.
“…!”
The moment he lost his weapon, his eyes widened in shock. Before he could recover, I grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground.
He lay there, disoriented, eyes darting around as if he couldn’t process what had just happened. I looked down at him with an indifferent expression, forming a sphere of flames in my hand.
Then I delivered the final verdict.
“It’s over. Surrender, Freed.”
Freed ground his teeth audibly.
Why do you get to have it?
Freed had lost to Adel.
One word—surrender—and the spar would end. But even as he lay on the ground, his mind kept spinning.
Why do you possess what I don’t?
It wasn’t really a question. It was pure jealousy.
From where he’d fallen, Freed’s gaze drifted toward the spectator seats. At the end of that line of sight was Christina. Their eyes met—hers clear and blue.
…
But her gaze wasn’t on him. It rested solely on Adel.
In this moment, Freed existed only as a tool to make Adel shine brighter.
Haha…
He let out a hollow laugh in his mind, the bitter conclusion settling over him.
Why does it have to be Adel Ifrit for Instructor Cain and Shane Krakt too?
Cain had only ever smiled at Adel Ifrit. Shane Krakt had only ever requested a spar with Adel Ifrit. A person he considered beneath him, weaker than him—why?
Just why did someone like that receive everyone’s attention?
It doesn’t make sense.
He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. He refused to accept that he was weaker, that he would lose.
Freed forced himself to his feet. There was no fighting spirit behind the motion. He simply stood because he couldn’t bear to stay down.
“This is pointless,” Adel said, sounding irritated.
Whoosh.
Freed ignored him and threw a punch. It was so slow that Adel caught it easily.
Crack.
Adel twisted the captured hand, pinning him down again.
“Ugh…”
Once more on the ground, Freed looked up into Adel’s eyes. They were indifferent. Completely uninterested.
The person he envied so fiercely was looking at him with zero emotion.
Is this what I am?
Nothing more than a tool meant to highlight Adel’s brilliance?
I’m so jealous.
He could have been in Adel Ifrit’s place. If his own talent had awakened, he would have surpassed him. He would have won the spar. Every single one of those thoughts burned with envy.
A strange fullness began to swell inside his body.
“Surrender, Freed.”
Adel spoke again, having completely subdued him. He clearly didn’t want to drag this out any further.
Freed turned his head to look at Christina once more. This time, her eyes were fixed on him. But they weren’t the loving gaze she gave Adel. They were cold—the way one might look at a demon.
Grind.
Freed clenched his teeth, his mind once again drawing its own bitter conclusions.
Can I never become that?
A being like Adel Ifrit. Someone respected by those he admired, loved by the person he cared for. Was he forbidden from ever becoming that?
I’m so jealous.
His emotions surged. The fullness that had filled his body began to overflow, seeping out like smoke.
I want to become that.
A being who could make the world flow exactly as he wished. He wanted to feel this fullness every single day.
His vision changed. It became the same eyes that had watched Cain and Adel’s spar earlier.
“Reverse eyes…?” Adel muttered.
Freed didn’t hear him.
He strained with all his might, but the hands and feet pinning him down didn’t budge.
Hummmmm.
He drew up the source of that overflowing fullness from deep within. Black mana revealed itself to the world.
Is this an awakening?
Freed had realized his talent. This “magi” was the product of his own ability merging with his emotions.
I want to become something greater than Adel Ifrit.
With this fullness he felt now, it seemed possible.
Hummmmm!
He pulled up even more magi. The pressure from Adel’s grip loosened.
“Surrender, Freed.”
Fwoosh.
Sensing the strange shift in momentum, Adel summoned his flames again, repeating the command to surrender. The fire clamped down harder on Freed’s arm, but his jealousy was far from finished.
Fwoosh.
Black flames ignited. They devoured the flames Adel had created.
Startled, Adel leaped backward.
Fwoosh.
Freed rose to his feet, raising a haze of flames identical to Adel’s technique.
“…Jealousy.”
“That’s right. Jealousy. It’s my talent.”
Freed spouted the absurd claim that even his jealousy itself was a form of talent.
“It got eaten.”
“It didn’t get eaten. I’m the one who ate it.”
“…You’re insane.”
Hwaaaaaah!
Magi erupted from Freed’s body, spreading outward to form a barrier.
“This is the true beginning of our spar, Adel Ifrit.”
Seven Evils.
Seven kinds of evil.
In modern terms, they are also known as the seven deadly sins—emotions that, when they reach their peak, consume the mind entirely.
According to the book I read today, that was how this world described it.
Magi.
It felt repulsive. I had no desire to approach it, and unlike mana, it didn’t feel like something I could control. Just as Freed had said, it seemed this power required talent as well.
Though I’m not sure if that can truly be called talent.
Even if it was, on a continent threatened by demons, an existence tied to evil would never be welcomed. It was practically a target for immediate execution.
So this is the Seven Evils.
I observed Freed. The biggest change from before was his eyes—now reversed. Those were the eyes of someone swallowed by the Seven Evils.
The magi blooming from his body was slowly wrapping around his entire form.
And on top of that, it’s jealousy.
Jealousy copied the abilities of whatever it envied. That was why Freed was mimicking my flames, producing a haze of black fire.
What about Instructor Cain?
I glanced around, searching for him. Freed was too busy wrapping the arena in magi to notice. The ideal person to handle this situation—the judge of our spar—should have been nearby.
He’s gone?
I expanded my senses to their limit, but I couldn’t detect anything.
Could it be…?
I remembered the question Cain had asked me earlier.
—Adel, in a moment of crisis, would you rather be saved by someone, or solve it yourself? Show me with one or two fingers.
I had simply raised two fingers. Because I needed to grow.
Seeing Freed like this, I finally understood why Cain had asked that question.
He already knew.
Cain had known Freed would fall to jealousy. That was why he’d asked. And because I had chosen the path of growth, he had stepped back.
But he must still be watching somewhere.
He wouldn’t ignore something as serious as a terror-like incident happening inside the academy.
The power of the Seven Evils depended on the strength of its host. The original Freed had been defeated by me in just three moves. There was no reason I couldn’t win now.
This is actually an opportunity for growth.
Just as Cain had intended, this was a perfect chance to become stronger.
Alright. Let’s do this.
In truth, this marked the beginning of the first major episode.