A Drop from the Abyss
"My, you're quick. This year's freshmen are certainly passionate!"
Though her eyes were smiling merrily, Leila's lips were pouted in a slight frown.
"Still, thank you for calling a teacher to oversee your duel. If things get out of hand in some random corner of the campus, cleaning up the mess is never easy."
She turned to me and offered a bright smile.
At the Academy, conflicts among students were as natural as breathing.
This wasn't unique to the dark magic class. Knights fought to prove whose master was superior, and to determine who would bring greater honor to their family and nation.
Mages clashed to demonstrate who could cast grander spells and whose magic reigned supreme.
"It would be best if you all got along, but if tempers do flare, it's much better to have a witness present for a formal duel. The rest of you, please, please keep that in mind."
In truth, from her perspective, a few minor nobles from insignificant families or commoners getting hurt in a duel probably didn't matter much.
But a fatality was a different story. And when dark mages fought, death was an alarmingly easy outcome.
Ordinary people could generally gauge the limits of their own strength.
They knew that hitting someone on the head with a hammer would kill them. They knew that a deep slash to the arm might sever it, but wouldn't necessarily be fatal.
Unless there was a massive difference in physical size, a hard kick to the stomach wouldn't end a life.
Even those who wielded the power of light could easily gauge their own output.
They were people who had to train for hundreds, even thousands of hours to expand their mana and control its destructive force.
Excuses like, "I accidentally struck with all my might, and a force several times my potential came out, killing them by mistake," were nothing more than the pleas of a murderer.
But dark mages were different.
By offering just a fraction more of themselves in an instant, or if their contracted demon granted them a bit more leeway, their power could spike exponentially in the blink of an eye.
The same applied to their defenses. The moment a dark mage locked in a tight struggle lost their composure and succumbed to fear, the very dark mana protecting them could turn and devour them.
The more variables there were, the less safety remained.
"Now, take your positions. Wade, do you have a weapon you wish to use?"
"No, ma'am."
"And you, Victor? I heard you use a sword."
"Doesn't matter."
This was somewhat unusual.
While it wasn't unheard of for commoners to become dark mages, most of them started as mercenaries wielding swords, spears, or bows before dabbling in the dark arts.
"In that case, would both of you step forward?"
This place was the Academy.
It wasn't a charity designed to nurture blank slates like Claire or myself from scratch.
They would teach basic knowledge since they couldn't bar us from classes entirely, but the institution's fundamental purpose was to allow those who had already learned the basics to truly blossom.
"Oh, no..."
Claire closed her eyes tight and shook her head in fear.
I wanted to tell her not to worry, but it seemed pointless. She wouldn't understand why she didn't need to worry in the first place.
Hmm...
I felt Katarin's gaze on me. Though we didn't make direct eye contact, I knew with absolute certainty that she was watching.
She was definitely on guard. She was eager to see how I would perform once the fight began.
The other students watched me as well—half of them looking for entertainment, the other half filled with anticipation.
The man standing before me, Victor, wasn't anyone particularly impressive.
He had secured a decent patron, saving him from outright contempt, but at the end of the day, he was just a commoner, not the son of some noble house.
I couldn't be sure what the other students thought of him, but they didn't seem to hold him in high regard.
Yet, everyone watching this duel was mistaken. Every single one of them.
No matter how I looked at it, this was no grand event.
Simply surviving at the Academy was not my ultimate goal.
This world was destined for ruin.
Dark magic was undoubtedly powerful, but it wasn't a force that could be wielded forever without consequence.
War was coming.
Using the power of darkness merely to prevent natural disasters or ward off bandits and monsters wouldn't trigger the ultimate catastrophe.
It was unchecked hatred that would tear the world apart. Dark mages would commit greater atrocities and offer more sacrifices just to devour their rivals and strike fear into their enemies.
I had to stop it. In the absence of a player, that duty fell to me.
So, a mere squabble between students—between an unremarkable commoner and my current, unimpressive self—held no real significance.
If necessary, I could even lose. A defeat in a trivial clash like this meant absolutely nothing to my life or my plans.
Therefore, this was nothing more than a test for myself.
A simple verification of whether I could wield dark magic and escape paying its price.
"Smart choice. Hey, at least you won't die even if things go south, right?"
Victor stood before me with a smug grin.
Scars lined his body, and I could sense a bloodlust forged in actual combat.
"Though you'll still be carried out of here straight to the infirmary. If you want to live a long life, you'd better pray your parents saved up a lot of money."
I drew upon my power.
The entity lurking within the Fragment of the Void—or perhaps the one touching its very edge—was unlike any ordinary demon.
It couldn't be reasoned with. It wasn't a matter of a language barrier; it simply had no desire to communicate.
I couldn't even tell if it was truly a demon or something else entirely. But one thing was certain: it had no intention of negotiating.
The moment anyone with the intent to form a contract touched that substance, it would pounce like a wraith, flooding their mind with madness.
A madness that not even the strongest, most mentally resilient person could escape.
And yet, I could endure that madness thanks to my Indomitable Will.
As far as output was concerned, it was limitless. As long as my physical body could withstand it, I could channel that overwhelming dark mana in its entirety.
"Now, begin!"
Leila's voice echoed through the classroom. Every eye in the room was fixed on Victor and me.
Restrain. Suppress.
I forced down the dark mana that threatened to leak out.
Only a tiny fraction must be allowed to escape. Like creating a microscopic crack in a massive reservoir to draw a single drop of water.
"I'll teach you your place!"
He lunged at me.
Time seemed to slow down. Just as I had during my solitary training in the classroom, I focused my entire mind on the tiny speck of dark mana gathered in my hand.
I had to ensure the onlookers couldn't glean too much information, keeping the true nature of my mana hidden.
A duel between dark mages was a solemn affair. Even killing your opponent was technically permitted.
But if a student died here, it would draw far too much unwanted attention.
If an Academy student died in a situation that wasn't even life-threatening, the professors would naturally label me a danger and try to keep me under lock and key.
Infamy could be a useful asset for a dark mage depending on how it was used, just as it was for Katarin.
But not right now. Not until I had built up enough achievements and secured a position where others couldn't easily control me. Gaining notoriety at this stage would do more harm than good.
Therefore, I couldn't kill him. I had to suppress the spell's destructive power.
"Hup!"
There was no time for long deliberations. Victor, his hands brimming with dark mana, was already right in front of me.
The distance was close. This wasn't bad.
At this range and angle, very few people would be able to clearly see my Dark Arrow and realize how abnormal it was.
A short, thin, pitch-black rod materialized before me, harboring a darkness that seemed to swallow the surrounding light.
I fired it at him.
"Aaargh!"
The fight didn't last long.
It wasn't a fatal wound. I had aimed for the space between his neck and shoulder.
His disheveled uniform was stained black, saturated with a dark mana so dense that the dark crimson of his blood couldn't even show through.
Yet, it was clear he could no longer fight.
"Ah... ugh... aaargh!"
Screams of agony tore from his throat.
"W-what? What just happened?"
"Is... is he going to survive that?"
Even though they were studying dark magic, most of the students had never actually used it to harm another human being.
Victor might have, but the scions of ordinary noble families didn't go around hurting people with dark magic just because they learned it.
Perhaps some had slaughtered livestock or wild beasts to gather blood, or set fire to mountains as an offering of cruelty.
Maybe a few had sacrificed the blood of criminals or commoners—people they didn't even consider human.
But the person lying there was a student. Regardless of status, he was a peer standing on the same ground as them.
It was hard for them to accept that someone like them could be broken and brought to the brink of death so easily, so simply.
"The duel is over! Good work, both of you!"
Leila rushed forward to bring the fight to an end. The others, still struggling to process what had happened, stared blankly back and forth between Victor and me.
In the end, it was nothing special.