The Magic Tower Master's Soccer Kick
The imperial family of the empire is granted special powers. An eye that can see through anything. It could be a person, it could be scholarship, or in some cases, it could even be the truth itself. Leonhardt Bell, who inherited the blood of his predecessors, was born with eyes that could see through the true hearts of humans. And just now, he had experienced his Eye of Truth being thoroughly insulted.
"Ian Ashy."
Leonhardt rolled the unfamiliar name around in his mouth. The opponent he had encountered in front of the waiting room today was—
"How could I possibly dare to wait in the same space as Your Highness the Crown Prince? This humble one will wait outside."
It was a lie so obvious that even without the Eye of Truth, it was plain as day. A genuine noble speaking like some street slave? What nonsense was that?
"...Do as you wish."
But it was so absurd that Leonhardt Bell found himself saying it without thinking. Giving someone a pass once was also a virtue a benevolent crown prince ought to possess.
"Where you wait isn't that important anyway."
Being the crown prince of a nation wasn't a position completed merely by the nobility of one's bloodline. It required matching talent, and the grueling effort to hone that talent was also demanded as part of one's dignity.
Leonhardt Bell. As the next sun of the empire, he had never once neglected that duty. The strength that could slice through steel without aura was proof of it.
Therefore, Leonhardt demanded the best from everyone he faced. No matter who the opponent was, anyone standing before his sword had to collide with every ounce of power they could muster. That was the courtesy due to the crown prince, and the minimum virtue required of perfect prey.
Ian Ashy. Honestly, he was an insignificant figure Leonhardt had barely heard of. The second son of the declining Baron Ashy family. Moreover, he belonged to that ridiculous Art Department. Both students and faculty unanimously clicked their tongues at him, calling him a delinquent with a flood of terrible reviews. In short, a nameless nobody.
'Well, does it matter?'
Leonhardt's red eyes sank with a menacing gleam. Though the boy had acted like a servant, he hoped he would face this duel with everything he had.
'If not...'
If he was already trash whose reputation scraped the bottom, then beating him a little—or even breaking a few limbs—wouldn't cause any political problems.
"Come. Squeeze out everything you possess."
The expression of an opponent who had given their all falling into despair. He couldn't deny that he didn't entirely dislike it.
Leonhardt swallowed a bitter smile inwardly and put on the mask of a benevolent monarch toward the black-haired boy who stood there blankly waiting for him. With his brilliant golden hair fluttering, Crown Prince Leonhardt Bell stepped toward the center of the training ground.
I don't believe in physiognomy. Judging everything by a person's outward appearance is a hasty generalization fallacy. But.
The bastard standing in front of me right now was the living proof of physiognomy's victory.
His eyes were completely ruined.
"It is an honor, Ian Ashy. To cross swords with you like this."
Crown Prince Leonhardt Bell. How could his greeting be delivered with such elegant, polite inversion? If I'd been told to speak that way, it probably would've come out as "Another powerful morning, I am Ian" or some crap like that.
— "He's so haaandsome!"
— "Look this way please, Your Highness the Crowwwn Prince!"
The stands were already erupting with cheers from students moved by the Crown Prince's dignity. Or maybe they were just moved by his face?
'Tsk.'
That's lèse-majesté, you lot. How dare you judge His Highness the Crown Prince by his looks alone.
Above all, I could see it clearly. The killing intent and madness flickering deep within those crimson eyes that looked down on me. On the outside a benevolent monarch, but inside he harbored the seeds of madness—a tyrant in the making. The original male lead of the story and the very incarnation of the death flag that would one day slice off my head was that guy right there.
Honestly, I wanted to ask him outright.
'Why the hell are you glaring at me with such terrifying eyes when you're up against a third-rate villain like me?'
Wasn't I just the kind of opponent who would collapse after one casual swing of the sword?
Magic? Honestly, what would I know about magic? Everything I knew came from skimming a few obscure books on mana conversion formulas while holed up in the corner of the academy's annex library. Above all, I had zero interest in things like martial power or magic. My only wish was a thorough cultural victory. In other words, using higher-quality pulp paper and more excellent rune presses to mass-produce even more incredible erotic manga and rake in the money with both hands!
"...It is an honor, Your Highness."
I bowed my head in a tone that was neither too delinquent nor too servile. I'd panicked and run away at the door earlier, but now I had to act sincere. Because that crazy crown prince bastard's hobby was precisely 'thoroughly trampling on people who give their all.'
The fact that he himself didn't realize he was a perverted psychopath made his condition quite serious. He simply believed with absolute conviction that if his opponent didn't exert full strength against him—the crown prince of the empire—it was a terrible insult and blasphemy.
'Don't misunderstand, you lunatic. You're just a pure, unadulterated evil pervert.'
And here's a lesson. When dealing with perverts—especially high-ranking ones like a crown prince—it's best to satisfy their needs. It's my own life philosophy, learned from handling perverted readers.
"Hehe."
So I planned to give my sincere best in this practice session. What? Isn't that the wrong move?
Think about it. This body had never once used proper magic since birth. Meaning, even if I gave it my "all," the result would be pathetically weak. Use the most pathetic magic with everything I have → the crown prince snorts and smacks me with the flat of his blade → I let out a model, excellent scream and get sent flying, forfeiting. A perfect scenario.
In this scenario, the crown prince's mood wouldn't be hurt (since I did give my all), I'd fulfill my contract with Kano, and I could escape this damned situation.
"I heard from my sister that you handle magic. Even though you're in the Art Department."
Hey, princess. What exactly did you chatter to your brother about me?
The crown prince said, leisurely resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"It is a knight's custom to yield the first move to a mage. Come at me with all your power."
Damn. So cool, Your Highness.
As expected—
— "Kyaaaaah!"
— "Take me, Your Highness the Crown Prince!"
— "I want to have Your Highness's child!"
Cheers that sounded more like screams erupted. And you in the back. Isn't that lèse-majesté?
...Anyway, I'm jealous of that popularity.
"Understood. I thank Your Highness for your consideration."
I gave a deep bow and began taking deep breaths. I recalled the basic mana operation method I'd read in an old book in the library. Closing my eyes, I prodded at the magic power sleeping inside me. Supposedly this would stimulate the mana circuits and draw the power out.
'Hmm? Is this it?'
Something was definitely there. So that mana crystal hadn't been wrong after all. But something felt off. As expected of Ian Ashy, most of it was dark and gloomy mana, yet...
'Why does it feel like something incredibly holy is mixed in?'
A warm, dazzling, even sacred energy. There was no way I possessed anything like that. My head was full of nothing but dirty comics, the head maid's thighs, and garter belts.
'Eh. Must be my imagination.'
My senses must have gotten twisted from the tension. I grabbed the holy energy and the lump of my original mana in one big handful and yanked it outward with force.
"Hup!"
I inhaled sharply and thrust my hand forward. My 100 percent sincere punch—no, sincere magic!
Oooong—
From my fingertips, two streams of energy began to pour out.
"Ooooh?!"
For a moment, expectant cheers rose from the stands. It was worth getting excited about since my fingertips were sparkling! Even I was surprised! It was my first time today!
And then.
Boop.
Boop.
What popped out from my fingertips were two light orbs the size of beans. One was a murky, pitch-black color. The other was a dazzling pure white. They were literally the size of kidney beans.
Pathetic mana lumps that probably couldn't even catch a fly.
"......"
"......"
A silence fell over the entire auditorium. The students in the stands, the professor acting as judge, even the crown prince before me—all of them froze solid.
Leonhardt's benevolent smile shattered completely. His red eyes began to tremble with rage.
"......You bastard. Are you joking with me right now?"
Killing intent dripped from his voice. Aura burst forth, heavily pressing down on the air in the hall.
Ah, shit. This guy was seriously pissed. He clearly thought I was deceiving the crown prince.
"N-no! This really is my sincere best! What can I do if this is all the power I have!"
I shouted in grievance. It's real, you maniac! I'm an erotic manga artist from the Art Department! This is my limit!
To show some sincerity somehow, I pushed the two beans floating above my palm forward.
"G-go!"
The black bean and the white bean flew shakily toward the crown prince. Trembling with humiliation, the crown prince drew his sword. He looked ready to smash such dust-like magic into oblivion with his blade.
But at that moment.
The two beans flying toward the crown prince suddenly veered in midair and stuck to each other tightly.
The instant two energies of completely opposite properties collided head-on—
— .......
Suddenly everything around became quiet. The sound of the wind, the breathing of the audience, even the presence emitted by the crown prince's aura. An eerie sensation as if all the sounds and colors of the world had inverted to black and white in an instant and were being sucked away.
'Huh?'
I blinked. Between the two touching beans, a black crack was flickering as if the space itself was about to split open.
'Did I see that wrong?'
I stared blankly, blinked once, and opened my eyes—
Flutter.
"Have you lost your mind?"
The Magic Tower Master's blue eyes were blinking right in front of me.
Thud-!!!
"Keuk?!"
Something—whether it was the Magic Tower Master's foot or his staff, I couldn't tell—slammed into my solar plexus. My vision flipped upside down. Along with pain like my breath had been cut off, my body floated into the air like a feather.
At the same time, the two beans that had been trying to fuse in midair lost their connection to the source and scattered away pathetically with a puff.
The absolute silence shattered as well.
Right before I slammed into the auditorium wall, only one thought circled through my head.
'Did I get him...?'
Ian Ashy! Disqualified! Unable to continue battle due to mana exhaustion!