Everyone Wants Me to Win
It seemed everyone wanted this body of mine to win.
The semifinalists were Laward, Hakan, Rebecca… and Lucia.
This year the Academy had achieved the remarkable feat of sending three of its own students into the final four.
“Lord Daywin, is this… is this really happening…?”
The Chairman’s expression kept shifting wildly.
“Three of them! Three! Three out of four, I tell you! Could you at least look a little pleased? Three of them are your students! Am I the strange one here?”
Of course I was pleased, but with him carrying on so loudly right beside me I felt no urge to join in.
It was embarrassing. I didn’t want to be lumped in with that.
“Sending three to the semifinals is unprecedented in Academy history! Now I understand why people watch sports… If things continue like this, the Academy’s thirty-three-year drought without a championship—”
That was one line I could not simply let pass. I clamped a hand over the Chairman’s mouth.
“That’s enough. Stop right there.”
This was the inside of an otome game, after all. The place where flags were raised more easily than anywhere else.
But silencing the Chairman alone was nowhere near enough.
“Woooooooo!”
The Academy stands were already roaring as if they had won the whole thing. Students swarmed the three who had reached the final four and began belting out the school song.
The Chairman’s eyes lit up at the familiar melody; even with my hand still over his mouth he started mumbling along, lips working furiously.
They were planting the flag this blatantly.
The whole lot of them must have been dying to lose.
The Academy students even took care to console Veronica, who had been eliminated so regrettably. Veronica herself looked utterly unconcerned; she just kept repeating that she never expected to lose after blowing the entire budget and that the money had been wasted.
But after analyzing Veronica’s behavior so far, I was certain: the students weren’t whispering “returnee” behind her back the way they usually did. They were comforting her instead, and that made her so flustered she started spouting nonsense about the money.
A mage may never deal in absolutes, but this one was a hundred percent. You can take my word for it.
Even I had to admit it looked reassuring to have three of our own in the final four. What’s more, one first-year, one second-year, and one third-year had each advanced.
Laward would face Hakan, the Military Academy’s ace, in the semis. If Laward won here, there was a real chance the final would be an all-Academy match. We could turn another school’s tournament into a private festival of our own. We could reduce the Military Academy to a library.
But no one could know the outcome yet.
Laward might be the protagonist of this world, yet Hakan could still be the protagonist of this year’s Dowon Festival. The story of him crushing the Academy’s rising stars and reclaiming the summit once more was still possible. A narrative in which Hakan was the hero and we were the villains. Not an unscripted drama, but a script that had decided on that ending from the start.
Until it was over, no one could relax.
Soon Laward and Hakan climbed into the arena one after the other. The moment Laward, then Hakan, set foot on the steps—
Boom. Boom!
Drums thundered from the Military Academy stands. Drums and flutes.
“Hakan! Hakan! Hakan!”
The entire student body chanted his name as one.
“Heh heh heh…”
Ximena watched her students with open satisfaction.
“Ugh.”
It was more than enough to cow the Academy students, who didn’t even have a recorder among them, let alone drums. Even the Chairman, who had been glowing with delight only moments ago, scowled as he surveyed the Military Academy contingent.
“What… incredible cheering.”
“What was that?”
“I said my heart’s pounding!”
He had to bellow at the top of his lungs before I could even hear him.
And it wasn’t only them. The Theological School students who still lingered in their seats were calling Hakan’s name as well. With none of their own competitors left, they could have cheered for anyone, but Laward was the reason. Laward, who had beaten the ace they had absolute faith in—Chris—without even drawing a sword. Laward, who had reduced the Theological School’s best result this year to the round of sixteen.
Even if one of their own wouldn’t take the championship, they refused to let Laward win. You could see it in the way they looked at him.
And among them, Chris cheered the loudest of all.
Honestly… what a transparent guy. If it were me I’d be too mortified to make a peep.
“Sorry about this,” Hakan said, glancing sidelong at Laward. “Looks like everyone! Wants this body of mine to win!”
“Your voice is louder than the damn drums.”
“Laward, was it? The whole world is watching me—now the stage is perfect! Let’s have a fine match!”
“What good is everyone staring at you?”
Slowly, Laward turned his head toward me. Whether our eyes actually met across the distance I couldn’t tell, but he was clearly searching for me.
“I only need one person.”
Shiiing—!
Laward drew Holiday and set the scabbard neatly at his feet.
“Excellent! That’s a man’s eyes!”
Hakan, on the other hand, grinned as he drew his own blade and hurled the scabbard clean out of the arena.
“So you plan to use a sword. You didn’t against Veronica.”
“You’re no lady, are you? Apologies, but this body is only gentle with the ladies!”
“Shameless enough to flaunt your lust and still not feel embarrassed.”
“Eh?”
“You vulgar bastard.”
Tick—
Laward angled his blade and settled into a ready stance. The motion caught the light on the steel, reflecting his golden eyes straight back at us.
KRA-BOOM!
Laward exploded forward, halo blazing. This was nothing like the fight against Chris. With a sword in hand his reach was far longer. A flash of blue steel lanced toward Hakan’s gut.
Clang—
Yet Hakan deflected it as if he had expected it all along, turning Laward’s own speed against him and guiding the blow harmlessly aside. An attack that would have been too fast for ordinary eyes—like the Chairman’s—to even follow.
Hakan smiled thinly and shot Laward a deliberately lecherous look.
Clank!
One of Laward’s halos veered and streaked straight for Hakan’s face. From the start Laward had planned a one-two: first the sword, then the shockwave from the halo.
“Wha—”
Hakan let out a short sound.
KRAAAAAASH!
The inverted halo unleashed a savage beam of light. Hakan took the ray condensed from Laward’s S-rank divine power dead-on.
And just like with Veronica, nothing happened. He moved as if it were nothing, then drove a kick into Laward’s stomach and forced him back.
“…….”
Laward, driven several steps by the blow to his midsection, slowly lowered his head. He stared blankly at the dirt-smeared uniform…
“Kh—…”
…and coughed up blood.
Hakan hadn’t even been going for a finishing blow; the kick had been a casual check. Yet that single strike had made Laward vomit blood.
At the sight, Ximena clenched her fist tight.
“…You seem awfully happy to see my student coughing up blood.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
She sounded anything but apologetic.
“I understand Hakan’s ability now. He selectively absorbs only unique magics, doesn’t he? That defensive power itself is Hakan’s original—am I right?”
“Heh heh. As expected, you noticed.”
“A unique magic that nullifies unique magics… What a bizarre ability.”
Bizarre, much like Hakan’s own manner of speaking.
“Anyone who can be called strong in this world has their own unique magic or a spirit contract, do they not?”
Ximena glanced at me as if seeking agreement. She was almost entirely correct—whether in the game, in my previous life, or right now. Those who developed and refined their own magic and combat styles were granted something special. Because this world was a game, that was even more true. Unlike copy-paste NPCs, they became named characters and bosses. Only when even a single line of their description differed did they finally receive a name.
Hakan fed on that specialness. The more unique, the stronger they were—the smaller they became before him. Strong against the strong, weak against the weak. Hakan was a weightless genius. A vulgar genius. A genius who devoured other geniuses.
“He can’t use the ability against opponents who have no unique magic, but, well… as you can see.”
Ximena pointed a fingertip at the blood on Laward’s lips.
“He can still produce that kind of power without it. There’s nothing to be done, is there?”
Certainly that level of physical superiority had been unexpected. Just as I had told Laward earlier, I had assumed Hakan knew his own weakness well and had trained all the harder because of it. But Laward trained every single day as well. The age gap was only two or three years at most, yet Hakan’s physique stood head and shoulders above Laward’s.
I activated the Scouter and checked Hakan’s stats. Because the upgrades weren’t fully complete yet, the trait Ximena had mentioned didn’t show. However—
Vitality:S
Strength:S
Agility:S
Intelligence:S
Use a developed unique magic and it would be blocked. Don’t use magic and you would still be crushed. His body itself was a monster. And even though Hakan didn’t look the part in the slightest, even his Intelligence was S.
I was a little jealous of that one. My kid didn’t have a head for studying.
Just then Laward spat, ptoo.
“I thought I had a lot to learn from you.”
“Hahaha! Is that so? Looks like you and I can be friends!”
“Turns out there’s nothing worth learning.”
“Eh?”
“I figure I can catch up in just one year.”
“Eeh?”
Hakan’s mouth stretched into a wide, mocking grin.
“Then why don’t you try winning right now?”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
Laward wiped his mouth with his sleeve and quietly closed both eyes.
Hummmm—
I could feel divine power gathering inside his body. As I had said, outside of buff magic I had only ever learned the basics, and what I had taught Laward this time was one of those basics. And, coincidentally, Hakan had said that basics—unlike unique magics—would work on him.
Ximena had spoken as though even then an F-rank spell would simply expose its limits before Hakan’s physique. I thought differently.
The protagonist was different.
“Holy power emission… you mean?”
“That’s right. A simple spell that expels the divine power stored inside the body.”
The exact same magic I had used in front of Veronica at the magic-tool shop. Its name was so simple it was almost shabby: Holy Light Emission.
Rank, of course, was F. The sort of skill that would be dumped into your skill window the moment you classed into Holy Knight if you played the Laward route in the game. The kind of trash magic you would abandon the second you learned anything better.
“Ohh…! Wonderful! I want to learn it right away!”
Yet Laward had clenched both fists and cheered. Learning the spell itself had been so easy that he mastered Holy Light Emission in a mere fifteen minutes.
But learning and mastering are two different things. With a mountain of A-rank and S-rank spells still ahead, mastering a basic technique was something only freaks would bother with.
One difference from the game, however: mastering a spell here didn’t cost skill points. When skill points were limited, mastering basics was a waste of resources. Here, what you needed was time. Time and talent.
And Laward had both.
“I can tell you’re a little different,” he muttered, staring at Hakan. “Honestly, I have no idea how I’m supposed to fight you.”
“I… see. So you’re not that type, then…”
When Laward flatly declared he was no good at using his head, Hakan actually looked flustered.
“Well, even so—if I beat the crap out of you, you’ll bleed, and if you bleed, you’ll die. Same as anyone.”
“You’re the one bleeding right now!”
“So I am.”
Laward lifted the fingers that had been stained when he coughed blood and examined them. Divine power began to gather at those fingertips.
Humm-hummmm!
He dismissed the two halos that had been floating behind him and concentrated. The divine power stored in his body compressed into a single point no larger than a fingernail—just one solitary point.
Slowly he raised that finger and pointed it at Hakan. The movement was so deliberate that Hakan must have realized something was being prepared, yet he still watched with leisurely confidence.
“…Holy Light Emission.”
Piiishuuung!
The condensed divine power shot forth like a bullet and punched clean through Hakan’s shoulder. A thread-thin ray of light sliced through his body in a straight line, then faded with a soft hiss.
“Guh… kuh…?”
“Now you’re the one bleeding.”
Humm-hummmm—!
Laward gathered light at his fingertip once more.