How to Catch a Black Mage

Originally, the private lesson with Lily was supposed to start with teaching her basic attack spells. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"But hey, this isn't so bad either."

She muttered softly to herself as she pushed open the door to the remote training ground. The lights flicked on all at once, detecting the three of them. In the center of the various training equipment, spotlights focused on a square ring—25 meters wide by 25 meters long. Around the ring were drawn all sorts of auxiliary magic circles.

"Let's see... Main duel shield is working fine, user protection circle is good, auxiliary circles and soundproofing..." She tapped the drawn magic circles with her finger, and they each glowed in their own colors for a few seconds. It meant the facilities were functioning properly.

"Alright. The setup's a bit old, but everything seems to be working. Let's get started."

Seeing is believing. Through this duel, she planned to show Lily the path forward—and, as a bonus, demonstrate to Gunter Nordenburk what kind of mages he'd be facing from now on.

"First off, I won't be using my wand today." With that declaration, she set a pistol down on the table. The heavy weight vanishing from her waist left her feeling oddly empty.

"Instead, Lily, can I borrow yours?"

"My wand?"

"Yeah. Not the Olive Wand, the darup wood one you used to use."

"I don't mind... but will my wand listen to you properly, Professor?"

"Of course."

If a wand and its owner were like husband and wife, then I was like a mother to most wands. They all held some affection for me, so with the right mindset, I could use any of them. The reason she still preferred her revolver-style wand was simple: In her 21st-century modern life, magic had felt more like a gun than a wand, and nothing was as convenient for cycling through six attributes.

"Gunter, any preferred duel style?"

"If possible, I'd like to see how black mages fight. I saw them clearly enough at the banquet hall—the ones I'll have to face from now on."

"Good."

Fortunately, Gunter preferred this approach too, making the duel straightforward.

"Lily, what was your mana level again?"

"B+."

B+ was neither too low nor too high—perfectly comparable to her own for demonstration purposes.

"Close to mine. I'm A-."

"Really?"

The response was one of disbelief. She glanced at Gunter, who looked equally puzzled. No wonder—after crushing a 7th Circle mage at the banquet, an A- rating sounded low.

"Surprised it's lower than you thought?"

Absolutely speaking, A- wasn't low at all—top 4-5%. In her past life's terms, it was between first and second grade. The problem was that her enemies all had top 1% talent. The only way to bridge that gap was through wand affinity, mana control—details like that.

"I'll show you how much those details matter in spellcasting." With that, she stepped onto the ring opposite him. No signal was needed; real combat never waited for polite turns.

They stared at each other, then charged simultaneously.

Combat mages fell into two categories: close-range fighters using pre-engraved rune magic on their bodies and weapons, like warriors. And ranged casters relying on wands.

Each had strengths and weaknesses. Warriors had overwhelming cast ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠speeds since spells were pre-loaded and triggered on demand. They closed in instantly, unleashing massive firepower like human tanks. But they tired quickly. No matter how many runes you crammed onto one body, capacity was finite. Once spent, they were just axe-wielding brutes.

Ranged mages, casting via wands as needed, didn't tire easily. From the rear, they poured out unlimited firepower until mana ran dry. Why hide in the back? Casting took time: envisioning the spell, manifesting mana, forming the incantation, aiming, firing. That delay made them vulnerable up close.

That was Gunter Nordenburk's common sense—at least until five minutes ago.

"Don't get bound by common sense, Gunter."

A blue rune magic circle glowed along Gunter's axe blade. With a heart-rattling foghorn boom, a massive ice galleon plummeted from above Ria's head.

That instant, she thrust her wand skyward.

Light flashed, and the plummeting galleon detonated midair. Thousands of ice shards infused with light rained down, creating a dreamlike haze. Ria, sapphire eyes reflecting the fragments, unleashed incantations in rapid succession.

Her wand swept the air, halting the light-infused ice shards—

—and when the tip pointed at Gunter, they shot toward him like thunderbolts.

"Ngh...!"

Boom—! The axe slammed the ground, blue light engulfing everything. As the dust cleared, the incoming ice shards lay shattered.

With mutual attacks nullified, a brief lull fell. Gunter's face hardened. It looked like a draw, but he knew better than anyone it wasn't. Five minutes in, he'd burned most of his stored spells without touching the professor's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clothes. Her expression remained serene, one hand casually behind her back.

"...How? How is this possible?"

Ria smiled faintly. "Unfair, right?"

"..."

"That's what black mages are. They spam attacks with a gesture, trigger spells without warning. Common sense doesn't apply."

Common sense doesn't apply. Gunter Nordenburk learned that firsthand. He was still too weak against black mages.

As he lowered his axe in defeat—

"But that doesn't mean give up."

Ria's voice was gentle. "How do you handle fierce monsters in the north?"

The sudden question caught him off guard, but he answered earnestly. "Keep distance first. Rushing into fangs and claws is stupid... Dodge attacks, find openings, exploit them. Accumulate damage gradually to take them down."

"Do the same against black mages."

"What do you...?"

"Break it down—they're not so different from those beasts. Just longer range and a bit stronger."

Three hundred years ago, during the Demon King War, northern warriors died en masse because of common sense. Mages were weak to warriors; rush in close and end it. That habit killed them.

"Never charge a black mage first. Treat them like vicious beasts—wait for their claws to swing."

Ria raised her wand. "So this time, I'll attack."

Light gathered at the tip. "Lily, watch closely. This is the direction for your training."

Ten golden swords materialized behind Ria with a sharp whoosh. Perhaps thrilled by her aptitude, their power exceeded a standard 3rd Circle spell. Craters pocked the floor each time Gunter dodged.

Yet he didn't advance recklessly. That created his opening—the inevitable gap in any caster's rhythm. A mere 0.5 seconds for reload.

Gunter poured his remaining spells into that moment.

Gunter swung his mana-charged axe vertically downward. Ria urgently canceled her attack and began casting defense.

Crash—! A sharp explosion echoed as frost blanketed the ring. Refracted magic scattered wildly, battering the protective circles.

After the shockwave, Ria glanced down inadvertently. Her hasty Mana Refraction had deflected most of the impact outward—but not all. Smiling, she lifted the hem of her professor's cloak. The edge, beyond refraction's reach, was shredded.

"Well done, Gunter Nordenburk."

Gunter, though defeated, bowed with a satisfied smile. "Thank you for instructing this lacking disciple, Master."

The duel ended there. But Lily couldn't forget it. The professor overwhelming a northern warrior with mere 3rd Circle basics burned in her mind. She could never beat Gunter. How did someone with a similar wand and mana produce such results?

The answer was simple: vastly superior wand handling.

So, what to do? Also simple: Understand and master the wand, as the professor said.

For days, Lily's mind replayed only Ria's lessons. Reality returned a week before exams—team selection day for the practical test.

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In the Empire and Eastern Union Kingdom, combat mages operated in pairs. Two was the minimum to cover mana shortages in extremes. Academy practicals followed suit—graduates headed to one nation or the other.

Teammates were chosen randomly. Cooperation with strangers factored into scoring.

"I wasn't hoping for someone who likes me, but at least a normal person..."

Lily muttered, rereading the slip in her hand. It didn't change.

Only one Clara in the academy: the Holy Kingdom's Saintess, Clara.

"Haa..." Lily sighed deeply.