Arch Enemy
Oof.
My fist was tingling.
I shook my hand and blew on it with a few quick breaths.
Punching armor with a bare fist and only feeling this much numbness was actually pretty good.
Waaaaah!!!!
As I picked up the scabbard I had thrown aside, a belated storm of passionate cheers erupted behind me. I flashed a grin and waved toward the stands.
The attention during the opening ceremony had been overwhelmingly burdensome, but this felt just right. Maybe it was the comfortable distance that made the difference.
Where to now?
The round of sixteen and quarterfinals would wrap up today. The semifinals were tomorrow, and the finals the day after.
That meant I had to finish my quarterfinal match before I could enjoy any free time, but I had no idea what to do until then.
Round 2 — First-Year Knight Division: Gilot Yordanov VS Fourth-Year Knight Division: Barkan Asrad
“Hmm?”
The Northern Grand Duke, who sat in the exact opposite bracket from me, was scheduled to fight in ten minutes. I figured I might as well watch that match before leaving.
I headed for the waiting room. Part of me wanted to sit in the stands, but magic was strictly forbidden there, which meant I couldn’t use my disguise spells. To avoid drawing attention I would need sunglasses, a hat, a mask—all the usual props. By the time I gathered everything, the match would already be over.
“Moving to the waiting room.”
When I opened my eyes, the waiting room scene unfolded around me. Roughly seven people were inside.
The moment I arrived they all shot me startled looks, but only two of them approached. The rest kept their distance.
And those two were—
“Ethan, that was incredible!”
“A single punch… How romantic.”
It was the dramatic couple duo. They even spoke in the same exaggerated tone; their over-the-top reactions made them a match made in heaven.
“When are your matches, seniors?”
The title still felt awkward. I hadn’t called anyone “senior” much in either of my lives. The last time was back in college, and even then I had quickly grown close enough to call them hyung or noona instead.
“I’m sixth! And call me noona.”
“I’m fifth. Call me hyung, too.”
…I definitely hadn’t switched to casual address this quickly back then.
Well, it’s a win for me.
Hyung and noona were far more comfortable.
“Anyway, I was thinking of watching that person’s match first.”
I pointed at the large screen in the waiting room. On it, the Northern Grand Duke was warming up.
“I wanted to watch both of you as well, but the timing doesn’t really work.”
Even if matches ended quickly, there were ten-minute breaks between each one. In other words, I would be stuck here for at least an hour.
“It’s fine! Your match and his will end fast anyway. The rest are all pretty evenly matched, so they drag on forever. We might be waiting three hours or more.”
Aelin explained calmly. If that was the case, I could watch comfortably and leave afterward.
“Are you going to meet the princess?”
“I already met with Katrina earlier.”
“Someone else? A girl?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Cheating on the princess? That’s bold.”
Aelin’s eyes narrowed slightly. If a status window existed, it probably would have displayed something like this:
Aelin Bernier’s trust has decreased by 1.
“Still, for someone like Ethan it makes sense. You’re famous for dragging slaves around with you.”
“So you’re going to meet other women besides me?”
“Aelin, that’s not what I—”
Yubel, who had tried to shield me, was now sweating profusely. Have a nice relationship, you two.
Muttering to myself, I sat down. Their bickering didn’t last long.
The pair kept talking to me nonstop. After chatting about various things, the match time arrived.
Gilot stood, swallowing nervously.
I think I saw him once before.
We had lightly sparred during the exchange event. His swordsmanship wasn’t bad, but objectively he fell short of being the first-year knight division’s representative.
Since the original novel focused on the first-year magic division—specifically Class A—the level of the other first-years was noticeably lower.
“First-year Knight Division representative, Gilot Yordanov.”
“Barkan.”
The Northern Grand Duke offered nothing more before drawing his sword.
“Shall we test a first-year’s skill?”
As expected, he didn’t declare himself the Unbeaten Ruler or anything of the sort. The match began.
In a single strike, Gilot’s sword was severed.
Round 2 Winner — Fourth-Year Knight Division: Barkan Asrad
The Northern Grand Duke sheathed his blade and looked somewhere. His gaze locked onto the camera broadcasting the match to the waiting room screen.
He grinned, as if sending a direct message to me.
Yeah. This should be fun.
His sword skill was top-tier. Not impossible to beat, but certainly not something to take lightly.
I rose from my chair.
“Leaving?”
“Yes.”
“See you in the quarterfinals.”
I returned Yubel’s farewell and stepped outside.
Where could those two be?
I was wondering how to find Linea and Isana when—
“Master!”
Linea came sprinting toward me, panting like an excited puppy. Isana followed with a gentle smile.
“Dear husband, I watched your match. It was truly magnificent. However…”
Isana took my right hand, licked the knuckles with a quick swipe of her tongue, then gently stroked the area.
Even though her saliva soaked in, it didn’t feel unpleasant. A mage’s saliva was clean to begin with, and hers contained healing magic.
“It’s already fine.”
“You still need to let me. Punching armor with a bare fist is bad for your bones.”
Isana gently scolded me. Linea, watching from the side, pouted.
“I could do it too…”
“Want to try?”
“I-it’s just… embarrassing.”
Linea’s face flushed as she fidgeted. I chuckled and patted her head.
This was the right fit for Linea.
“Ah.”
While playing with her hair, a thought suddenly struck me.
“Interested in a bet?”
The wager about what Barkan would say only to his rival. It seemed the scale was larger than I expected. According to Aelin, it was the second-most popular bet after predicting the overall winner.
“Are you talking about the winner prediction? If so, I went all-in on you, dear husband.”
“That’s one thing. There’s another bet as well.”
I explained Barkan’s famous anecdote to Isana. But—
“I already placed it?”
“You did?”
“His stories are quite famous, so I already knew. And when he sees you, he’ll have no choice but to say it, right?”
“That’s true.”
I tapped Linea’s head lightly. The now-grinning girl rubbed her head against my hand in return.
I let her play and continued talking with Isana.
“Be careful, dear husband. It’s not that you’ll lose, but… that man has many variables. Some analyses say he hasn’t revealed his full strength yet.”
“That’s what makes it fun. Winning too easily takes the taste out of victory.”
Aside from Barkan, no student could stand against me. I wasn’t expecting much from the quarterfinals or semifinals.
I had poured all my anticipation into the finals. Barkan had likely done the same.
A match worthy of the name could only be enjoyed in the final.
“That’s exactly like you. Still… please don’t push yourself too hard. It hurts to see you injured.”
Isana unusually hesitated as she spoke. It was oddly endearing.
“If you want it too, just say so.”
“I can take the other hand! It feels really good!”
Linea thrust her thumb up proudly.
“How indecent.”
Isana shook her head, yet still pushed her own head toward me.
“…But I like it anyway.”
In the end, both my hands were robbed of freedom by the two ruffians.
I checked my quarterfinal opponent. His name was Alphenor Badem, I believe.
He was the third-year magic division representative.
“N-n-nice to meet you, u-underclassman… sir.”
He had many problems. Not only did he stutter, but he was so emaciated his bones were clearly visible.
His hunched posture made him look even smaller. Even in a loose robe, his skeletal frame was obvious.
With the heart of a worried grandmother, I almost wanted to shove a hearty meal down his throat instead of crossing swords with him.
“L-l-let’s have a g-good match…”
“Likewise.”
Match Start
The signal rang out. Alphenor’s aura completely changed.
He had been leaning on a staff as tall as himself, but now he stood straight. As his hunched back stretched, he seemed to grow taller.
So he could stand properly after all?
As if to dismiss the question, magic unfolded instantly.
“Ice.”
The tip of his staff flashed. Mana shot toward the arena floor like a laser.
In an instant, the ground froze.
Crack!
The field transformed according to Alphenor’s will.
“…Age.”
A familiar chant followed.
It’s slippery.
If I wasn’t careful I would fall immediately. I poured mana into my feet and stomped the ground.
Crack!
The ice beneath my foot shattered.
“I-I won’t let you!”
Alphenor aimed his staff. The cold air from the frozen field gathered at its tip as if being sucked in.
Whoosh!
A straight beam of cold shot forward. My eyes flashed as I raised my sword.
The concept for this battle was mage hunter. I focused solely on using my sword to counter every spell the opponent cast.
Therefore, even though I could dodge, I chose to deflect first. I swung my sword diagonally through the air.
A transparent sword path materialized, forming a slash. The slash cut through the cold air and flew toward him.
“I-Ice… Shield!”
Alphenor waved the hand not holding his staff. An ice wall surged from the ground.
The moment I saw it, I charged.
“Hiiik!?”
His earlier composure must have been an act—Alphenor gasped. Even so, he continued casting to block me.
He predicted my movement and summoned ice pillars in my path. But they were too slow.
I could see and avoid them easily. Dodging every pillar, I closed the distance.
“Ice! Ice!”
With a deathly pale face, Alphenor desperately wrung out his mana. Cold air spread around him.
Even on the verge of fainting, the cold was threatening. It was worthy of a third-year magic division representative.
Unfortunately for him, his opponent was me.
“W-why?”
I had taken every ounce of cold air directly, yet I wasn’t frozen at all.
“Haa.”
I exhaled and looked down at him. He lay face-down on the floor, trembling violently.
There is no mercy for the defeated. I swung my sword.
Crack!!
I sliced through Alphenor’s body. No blood flowed; the cut surface had frozen solid.
“What an interesting guy.”
“Ugh… uuu…”
The unconscious Alphenor let out a weak groan.
Round 10 Winner — First-Year Magic Division: Ethan
As always, cheers exploded. But it wasn’t enough.
It was time for some showmanship. Since I already had precedent for concept-playing, I cleared my throat.
I spoke with confidence.
Barkan’s nickname was the Unbeaten Ruler.
His other nickname was the King of the North.