The Knight's Challenge
I sat in the lecture hall once again, just as I had days before, ready to attend class like everyone else.
I was still the undisputed center of attention at the academy. If I glanced around while seated at my desk, my eyes would inevitably meet someone else’s.
The difference now was the nature of those gazes. What had once been filled with awe and curiosity had transformed into something far more complex—a swirling mix of conflicting emotions.
Some looked at me and sighed, as if thinking, Why does a disgusting human like him possess such talent?
Regretful laments and reluctant admiration coexisted in their stares.
If only that were all.
Contrary to my vain hopes, many still viewed me with the same old contempt—the disdain reserved for a lecherous scoundrel and worthless trash. And most of those hostile looks came from the male students.
Why? Why are you guys making such a fuss?
I could understand the female students glaring at me with disgust and scorn. But all I could do was rest my chin on my hand, endure their stares, and gaze out the window.
What would you know anyway? I thought. I’ll just have to put up with the jealousy of these ordinary fools who haven’t even reached 3-Circle yet.
Of course, they had no idea I had already achieved the 3-Circle.
“Ahem, ahem!”
A deliberate cough from the podium silenced the lecture hall. It was Professor Errington.
He was the same professor who had furiously demanded I share my Moving Casting technique just days ago. He still harbored a grudge against me, and throughout the lecture, he kept shooting me subtle glances.
His eyes were sticky with resentment, and his tone dripped with barely concealed displeasure.
“A true mage must remain humble before knowledge. No matter how clever a trick one discovers, it cannot become truth. Those who hoard such knowledge as if it were solely theirs and hinder the advancement of magical studies will eventually be left behind. That is the path most often taken by the arrogant.”
Wow. So much for “subtle.”
He was openly sniping at me.
Still, I simply yawned and let his words go in one ear and out the other.
When I continued to show zero interest, Professor Errington finally pointed directly at me.
“There is a student recently being called a genius. Eros Brioche.”
…A man getting all clingy is kind of gross.
“Everyone knows you possess talent. So let us test whether that talent is matched by proper theoretical understanding. We shall see if your depth in theory is equal to your practical skill.”
In other words, he was announcing a pop quiz.
He dressed it up in elegant, seemingly polite language, but the message was clear: I don’t like you, so I’m going to humiliate you in front of everyone.
All eyes in the lecture hall turned toward me at once. A tense atmosphere settled over the room.
I let out a small sigh. His intentions were painfully obvious.
“Now, answer me. Why is it that a mage who displays exceptional power with fire-attribute magic or overwhelmingly fast casting speed shows such poor aptitude when casting water-attribute or other elemental spells? The essence of mana is formless, so why do these extreme differences in attribute compatibility occur?”
The moment the professor finished his question, sighs of bewilderment erupted from every corner of the lecture hall.
It was only natural. This wasn’t theory taught to first-years.
It was the theory of relative elemental affinity regarding mana manifestation and elemental correlation—a subject normally covered in specialized courses for third-years and above, only after students had discovered their own talents and specialized attributes.
In short, the professor had deliberately thrown out a question he knew I couldn’t answer. His clear intention was to watch me fail and be humiliated.
But whether people would actually point fingers at me for failing to answer was another question entirely.
After all, no one here was at a level where they could answer it either.
As if to prove that point, the students looked at me with expressions that said, How could anyone answer that? Some pitied me. Others clearly hoped I’d be embarrassed.
It was surprising to see a few genuinely sympathetic eyes among them.
I looked at Professor Errington and inwardly scoffed.
Any ordinary person would have fallen for his scheme, but…
I rose from my seat with a perfectly calm, relaxed expression.
Meeting the professor’s gaze head-on, I answered confidently.
“It is because each individual’s innate mana carries a congenital elemental disposition, much like how spirit mages commune with elemental spirits.”
Professor Errington’s brow twitched slightly.
“The academy teaches that mana has no form. However, during the process of creating a mana circle to establish one’s identity as a mage, a person’s inborn elemental affinity is revealed. Some are born with mana circuits that naturally take the form of flame, while others possess circuits as flexible as water.”
“…”
“Therefore, the reason a mage gifted with fire magic shows poor aptitude for water magic is not due to a lack of effort or calculation ability. It is simply because their mana circuits are not innately suited to forming the shape of water.”
As my explanation continued, the lecture hall fell deathly silent.
Feeling their attention on my skin, I drove the point home with one final nail.
“This is akin to an innate constitution unique to each person. No matter how desperately one trains or how high a circle one reaches, it is a congenital factor that can never be reversed. Thus, a true mage must first understand the fundamental nature of their own mana and maximize the spells that align with it. That is the true path of magic.”
After I finished pouring out both my answer and the underlying theory, the entire class remained silent.
Some couldn’t even comprehend what I’d said. Others were desperately trying to piece together the fragments of knowledge they had managed to catch.
That silence soon turned into murmurs, then exploded into a storm of chatter.
“No way… innate attributes in mana circuits? How is that even…!”
A male student in the front row dropped his pen to the floor and shouted in pure shock.
“How does he know such advanced magical theory? How could he possibly know that?”
“I’ve been searching through my books this whole time, but there’s nothing like that in any of them!”
Another young nobleman—and a noblewoman beside him—covered their mouths with their hands, staring at me in utter amazement.
Especially the noblewoman. The contempt that had filled her eyes moments ago had completely vanished, replaced entirely by admiration.
“L-Lies! He must have just made something up!”
“…But the professor isn’t saying anything.”
“Then that’s the correct answer? He’s a mage at a level where he can conclude a theory like that?”
“…I didn’t even understand half of what he said.”
One male student muttered in disbelief. The boy next to him swallowed hard and nodded vigorously.
“…At least when it comes to talent, he really…”
“The saying that God doesn’t give everything to one person was true.”
“Yeah.”
…That makes it sound like I’m somehow defective.
“Eros Brioche… is that guy seriously a monster? With a brain like that, why the hell has he been doing such stupid things all this time?”
“I told you. God doesn’t give everything to one person.”
So what exactly am I lacking, huh?
I let out a small sigh, feeling the flood of praise, worship, misunderstanding, and misinterpretation pouring over me.
In the middle of that barrage, I simply shrugged and sat back down.
What’s the big deal about something like this?
Professor Errington’s face burned red, his lips trembling.
He had planned the perfect way to humiliate me, only to end up amplifying my presence even more. He clearly couldn’t accept that outcome.
“Y-Yes. Truly… truly remarkable, Eros Brioche. That was an excellent answer.”
In the end, he was forced to acknowledge it in a stiff, reluctant voice.
If he denied my answer now, the truth would come out later anyway.
At that moment, the bell signaling the end of class rang. The professor fled the lecture hall as if escaping.
I slowly stood and headed toward the corridor.
The female students watched my retreating back with eyes full of pity, lamenting how such brilliant talent had been wasted on a scoundrel like me.
The male students were split—some muttered “amazing” with a sense of defeat, while others ground their teeth, still unable to stand my arrogance.
But none of them dared step forward and say it to my face.
They only whispered behind my back.
It was right after I stepped into the corridor.
Another wave of murmuring rose from the far end. The students from the magic department began parting to either side, making way for someone.
In the center of that path, a male student wearing a neatly pressed martial arts uniform strode forward with long, confident steps.
The moment the female students of the magic department saw him, they all covered their mouths, faces flushing red. They gazed at him with enchanted, almost worshipful eyes.
Flowing golden hair. Sharp, almost ethereal features. A beauty so perfect it bordered on androgynous.
Even the aura of a warrior that radiated with every step he took.
How could anyone not recognize him?
Eisen Einhardt.
The direct heir and successor of the Einhardt family, known as the Sword that Protects the Empire. He was one of the most overwhelmingly talented students in the entire martial arts department.
Thanks to his exceptional swordsmanship and equally dazzling appearance, there was hardly anyone at the academy who didn’t know his name.
And now that very person had stopped right in front of me. He looked down at me slowly and spoke.
“So you’re the scoundrel, Eros Brioche.”
Eisen called my name in a pleasant, low baritone. Even though he was a man, I didn’t find his voice unpleasant.
Despite knowing exactly who he was, I smiled as if I had no idea and replied.
“That’s correct. Do you know me?”
“Yes. My apologies. I am Eisen of the Einhardt family. I assume you’ve heard of me.”
“Ah, yes. And?”
“Your reputation has reached even the martial arts department.”
“Ahaha, I suppose I stand out quite a bit.”
“Stand out? You call defiling the honor of the empire’s young nobles by harassing a noble princess from another country ‘standing out’?”
…Huh? Wait a second.
This is going in a weird direction.
“And not only that, I’ve heard you even used Lise—a student who fulfills her duties and serves as a model for others—as a tool to satisfy your vulgar desires.”
Me? No, that was…
“That was my older brother who…”
“Hah, what a pathetic excuse. Of course an evil man would say that. As a knight, I stand here today to solemnly warn you about your despicable behavior.”
Eisen’s passionate, righteous speech made the female students hold their breath in admiration.
Some clutched their foreheads and nearly fainted. Others covered their cheeks and let out tiny screams.
But as the person in question, I was so utterly dumbfounded that a laugh burst out of me.
“Ha… hahahahaha.”
“You may have talent, but I can no longer overlook you abusing that talent to run wild.”
“So? It sounds like this noble knight wants to thoroughly beat up a mere mage.”
“…”
Come on, no way.
No matter what, the unspoken rule of this world was that knights and mages didn’t fight one-on-one. This was basically just him saying he was going to beat me up…?
“If necessary, I have no problem with that.”
He’s serious. He really came here to beat me up. And not just any bully—an incredibly dangerous one I’d rather not touch.
“Of course, I know that proposing a one-on-one duel to an ordinary mage would be shameful for a knight. But you are a genius, aren’t you? The so-called genius who breaks common sense by casting while moving. Shouldn’t such a person be treated differently?”
In other words, Since you’re a genius, I can beat you up without hesitation, all wrapped up in elegant phrasing.
Right? I really wanted to mess up that handsome face of his.
Even though I had reached 3-Circle, it was still nearly impossible for a mage to win a one-on-one fight against a knight.
No matter how strong a mage became, they were practically helpless in close combat. It was widely known that one needed to be at least a 5-Circle mage to even stand a chance against a knight.
After all, while casting, a mage was basically a stationary target—no different from a training dummy.
Even with Moving Casting, moving only a single step wouldn’t be enough.
I was busy thinking of a natural way to decline the duel when—
“Stop it!!”
A sharp cry rang out from the corridor. Someone pushed through the crowd and suddenly appeared.
With blue hair fluttering behind her, Elteumia de Lethe stepped in front of me, blocking the way.
Just how long has she been watching?
She stood before me and glared at Eisen.
“…Eisen. Stop.”
“My lady. This is not a matter for you to intervene in. This concerns the honor of the empire’s young nobles…”
“It’s because of me.”
“…”
“Stop it, Eisen.”
Elteumia firmly stood in his way with a resolute voice.
I watched this fascinating love triangle unfold, calming my racing heart as I observed the scene.
This is fucking entertaining.