The Fall (1)
On the day the ranking matches began, I strolled through the garden with Yeon Minha during the free time before our duels.
“Haa… how can the schedules overlap this perfectly? It’s really pissing me off…” Yeon Minha grumbled, her voice thick with irritation.
This week, the second-year ranking matches had been scheduled alongside the first-years’. With so many bouts to get through, the events were spread across several days, yet somehow both Yeon Minha’s match and mine had landed on the same date. At the exact same time. It didn’t feel like coincidence; we were simply unlucky.
“Should I ask them to change the time even now?”
“Is there any need for that? We can just proceed.”
“So you’re saying you don’t need my support?”
“That couldn’t be further from the truth. Still, this is my first time seeing a second-year ranking match. Are they usually held on this kind of cycle?”
“Hmph, changing the subject…” Yeon Minha replied curtly, whipping her head away.
“…The second-years follow a slightly different curriculum from the first-years. Instead of internal events like ranking matches, they’re usually assigned external missions. The country is already short on manpower. There’s no point wasting experienced mages inside the academy.”
Even while sulking, she still offered an explanation. In a way, it was very much like her. Seeing Yeon Minha still sent tides of shame crashing over me, but the fact that she treated me as if nothing had happened made it possible to push the past mistake from my mind. A senior was still a senior, after all.
“And…”
As we continued talking, Yeon Minha suddenly rummaged inside the lining of her jacket and pulled something out.
“…Take this.”
What she handed me was a bundle tied like a book. Dozens of small fabric swatches, each the size of a child’s palm. They came in every color imaginable, each with a different texture, shade, and thickness. Some were so thin that light passed through them. Others were so soft that a finger would slide right off. The outermost swatch bore a boutique’s name alongside decorative stitching.
What was this?
“Don’t… don’t pet them like that…” When I began fingering the fabrics out of curiosity, Yeon Minha stopped me in a flustered voice. Thinking they might be precious, I quickly withdrew my hand.
“What is this?”
“Pick one. Whichever catches your eye.”
“Out of nowhere?”
“Yes. Hurry.”
Yeon Minha ignored my question and pressed me instead.
“There’s no time. We’ll have to head to the arena soon.”
At her sudden request, I unfolded the bundle. Asking me to choose something I liked without any context was bewildering. At the very least I needed to know what these were for. Still, after flipping through them several times, I managed to settle on one. The swatch I chose was a muted gray with a moderately rough texture—neither too soft nor too thin. I spread it out and showed it to her.
“This one feels the best to me.”
“…Really? What part?”
Gray reminded me of rain clouds on a stormy day, something I had always liked. I didn’t care for textures that felt too soft or luxurious, whether in clothing or bedding. The head maid had once scolded me for rejecting high-end items, but that was one habit I could never break. I preferred rough, crude things that reminded me of the past.
“…I figured you’d pick something rough.” Yeon Minha nodded as though she had expected it.
“What? Then why did you make me choose?”
“…It’s a prize.”
“A prize?”
“Yes. A prize.”
She answered with a perfectly straight face, playing twenty questions. I couldn’t begin to guess her real intention. Her expression made it clear she had no plans to explain further.
“I understand. But, senior, we should go now. The time is already…”
Between choosing the fabric and talking, the hour had slipped away until the ranking match was about to begin.
“I’ll head over first. See you la—”
“Wait.”
Yeon Minha caught me again just as I was about to leave for the arena.
“What is it?”
“…You must win. Understood?”
A flicker of sadness and anger passed through her eyes. It reminded me once more that she despised the Seongsan family almost as much as Paecheon. That was only natural. Seongsan had always bolstered Paecheon’s pressure against Jeokhwa. During the last Jeokhwa incident, Choi I-re—the Seongsan successor—had even led private troops in an assault. Facing her younger brother would be no different.
“If you lose, forget about any prize.”
Her voice was icy enough to sound like a threat to anyone listening. But I knew better. These were not words of pressure; they were her own clumsy form of encouragement. Come to think of it, the talk of a “prize” had probably been her way of cheering me on. The boutique label suggested she might have been planning a custom outfit. Whatever the case, the sentiment touched me. At the start of the semester, that voice alone would have grated on my nerves. How had things come to this?
“Don’t worry. I will win. And I’m looking forward to the prize too, even if I don’t know what it is…”
“…Ugh. Fine…”
Yeon Minha nodded, her voice suddenly deflated. Still carrying a faint sense of puzzlement, I made my way to the arena where my match would be held.
The spectator seats were already packed with first- and second-years who had no matches today. Even the usually empty adjacent arenas were filled to capacity, spilling over with cheers and shouts.
The announcements echoed through the amplifiers. Familiar names occasionally drifted through the noise. On the massive real-time scoreboard, the rankings shifted constantly. My name still held firm at the top. Second place belonged to Jin Yeseo. Third place—my opponent today—was Choi Woojin. Speaking of which, I wondered what had become of Jin Yeseo. Had she postponed her match because of her injuries?
“Lee Hyun. Why are you so late?”
A voice from the opposite side of the arena pulled me from my thoughts. A hulking figure that hardly looked like a student. Short-cropped hair. Choi I-re’s younger brother, Choi Woojin of Seongsan, was striding toward me.
“You should’ve come quicker. I thought you got scared and ran off.”
“That couldn’t be.”
My short reply made Choi Woojin grin, flashing his teeth.
“Heh heh, good. I’ve really been looking forward to fighting you. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for today.”
His belligerent nature bled through every word. As far as I knew, among this year’s freshmen, no one had fought more duels than Choi Woojin. He had challenged not only first-years but second-years as well. If I hadn’t been away from the cradle so often because of southern matters and the Jeokhwa incident, he probably would have challenged me too. Yet his attitude carried more curiosity than hostility.
“Hey. Let me ask you one thing. Did you really mess up my sister’s chin like that?”
“…Why are you asking?”
“Just curious. No matter how many times I asked, she wouldn’t tell me. See this? A badge of honor from digging too deep into that story.”
He tapped the long scar on his forehead.
I wondered if he was after revenge, but I sensed nothing beyond curiosity in him. I saw no reason to answer. I had no obligation, and judging by Choi I-re’s reaction, the information might prove useful later as leverage. Choi Woojin, however, took my silence as confirmation.
“Khh khh, so it really was you. There’s no greater humiliation. Now I get why my sister keeps her mouth shut…”
As Choi Woojin kept talking, a sudden commotion rippled through the spectator seats behind me. He frowned, then his expression shifted to mild surprise.
“What? Why is she here?”
His reaction. The name drifting from the stands. I didn’t need to turn my head to know exactly who had arrived.
“She’s ignoring her own mentees’ matches to come here? Did my sister say something to her?”
Choi Woojin clearly hadn’t expected her appearance either. His reaction was neither welcoming nor hostile—just awkward. If it had been Jin Yeseo, she would have been leaping with joy. A great wave surged in my chest, disturbing my calm. I had to fight hard internally to suppress it.
One person. Just one additional spectator. There was only one thing that mattered right now: delivering victory to Yeon Minha. There was no need to look back. I didn’t know why she had come in person… and I didn’t need to know.
“…Ahem. Anyway…”
Choi Woojin, looking slightly embarrassed, turned his gaze back to me.
“So, are you planning to smash my chin today too?”
“…We’ll see how it goes. But it might be difficult today. I’ve decided to be more careful from now on.”
“What? Puhahaha!”
Choi Woojin’s eyes widened before he burst into roaring laughter.
“Well, even I thought Jin Yeseo looked pretty bad. Man, I never imagined I’d live to see such a satisfying sight.”
He turned away. Just before returning to his spot, he left one last remark.
“If you want to break my chin… you’d better give it everything you have.”
The roar of the crowd erupted from every direction, signaling the start of the duel.
When the time came, Mun Yeoul stepped into the arena wearing the particle reinforcement suit prepared for the ranking match. At once, thunderous cheers erupted from all sides. The fact that both contestants were mentees of Baek Seoyeon and daughters of prestigious families had turned today’s bout into an even greater spectacle. Baek Seoyeon had already announced she would not attend for the sake of fairness, but Mun Yeoul paid it no mind. She wasn’t blindly devoted to her like Jin Yeseo, so she felt no particular resentment.
She refused to be swept up in the fervent atmosphere and simply stared ahead with cold eyes. As it happened, her opponent was just emerging from the opposite entrance. Long, flowing golden hair. Eyes like peridot. A dazzling beauty straight out of a Western fairy tale. Yet her face was deathly pale. She had forced the cast off, but her right arm still looked stiff and awkward. Bandages were wrapped tightly around her limbs.
“…Ha.”
Seeing Jin Yeseo’s wretched state, Mun Yeoul let out a hollow laugh. She walked to the center of the arena. Jin Yeseo, standing across from her, spoke first.
“Hello, Yeoul. Even though things have turned out this way, let’s both do our best—”
“Enough. So you decided to force the match after all.”
Jin Yeseo closed her mouth at the distinctly unfriendly tone.
“…Is there some problem?”
“…Ha.”
Mun Yeoul’s lips curled into a frigid smile at the question.
“You’re asking if there’s a problem? Of course there is.”
The years she had never once beaten Jin Yeseo. The sight of her back always several steps ahead despite her own overflowing talent. The constant comparisons from those around them. Nothing had changed after entering the cradle. Jin Yeseo, who never dropped below second place. Mun Yeoul, who lingered in the top ten. The cradle’s ranking table—cold, objective, and quantitative—only deepened her inferiority and anxiety.
“Jin Yeseo. Just how far beneath you do you think I am?”
“What are you suddenly—”
Jin Yeseo looked confused by the words spat through clenched teeth. After all, this was the same Yeoul who had always taken her side warmly even when snarling at Choi Woojin.
“If you truly respected me, you would have postponed the ranking match. Don’t say you couldn’t. Postponing due to injury is perfectly allowed.”
“I…”
“But you didn’t. You ignored me when I told you. Why? Because you thought you could win easily even with those injuries! Because I’ve always been an easy opponent for you!!”
“Mun Yeoul, that’s not what I meant—”
“Don’t say it isn’t! It’s disgusting!!”
Long-buried emotions were finally erupting, triggered by Jin Yeseo’s actions.
“If you thought it was a fight you couldn’t win, you never would have stepped forward like this. That’s obvious. You’re always so obsessed with your grades.”
Mun Yeoul, who had known Jin Yeseo’s situation for over a decade, understood perfectly.
“If I’m wrong, then tell me. If it hadn’t been me but some other opponent, would you still have come out like this? Even if the opponent had been that Lee Hyun? Or at the very least… that monkey Choi Woojin?”
“I… I…”
Jin Yeseo hesitated but could not produce an answer. No matter who the opponent was, she would not have postponed the match. She had never once avoided a fight that came her way.
Yet Mun Yeoul’s words had struck precisely at a hidden corner of Jin Yeseo’s mind. If the opponent had been Lee Hyun, or even Choi Woojin, could she have decided to proceed so quickly and simply, without the slightest hesitation? Could she have been so certain of victory?
In that instinctive chain of thought, there had been no respect for the “friend” she had always looked down on. Jin Yeseo realized it too late.
“…Just as I thought.”
Mun Yeoul, who had been waiting for a reply, lifted the corners of her mouth in a cold smile once more.
“In the end… you were only using this duel as a tool to restore your wounded pride.”
“You said let’s do our best? Don’t worry. I was planning to even without you saying it.”
A tingling sensation raised the hairs on her neck. Dark purple electricity began to crackle and spark along both of Mun Yeoul’s arms, where she had inscribed the magic formula.
“I’ll make you feel in your bones just how arrogant your behavior has been.”
Mun Yeoul glared at her and murmured in a low voice.