Class 3: "Pathetic~☆ Stop Staring at Me with Those Creepy Eyes☆?"
“Pathetic~☆ I wish you'd stop looking at me with those creepy eyes☆?”
“That's...”
“Even a total idiot~☆ should get what I'm saying☆”
Luca couldn't come up with any response to Kesera's relentless prodding. All he needed to say was thanks—for helping him, for banishing that rage-whispering monster from this world—but Kesera felt worlds away. She was clearly just a kid, way younger than him... yet his chest itched in this weird way. He caught himself thinking he wanted her to lash out at him a little more. But Kesera dropped those words and drifted off to a distance, her face saying she'd never bother looking at trash like him again. Yeah, how could a worthless nobody like him ever presume to gaze up at such a magnificent White Badge? That day, another fire kindled in Luca's heart—the burning resolve to earn Kesera's approval.
“Next up is the ranking match between third-year Rarosi and Minail Le Sorden Ksharanthelis. I'll ask one more time: do both of you consent to this ranking battle?”
It was the intimidating discipline professor's voice that yanked Luca, fresh from his vows, back to reality. Kesera twitched subtly at the sound of Minail's family name. But Luca couldn't bring himself to look at her anymore. He didn't deserve it—not in his current state.
“Yes.”
“We will.”
With the professor's approval, the two gripped their wooden wands and took their positions apart. Third-year upperclassmen, seated not far from the kids taking the sparring class, whispered among themselves.
“These two are at it again this semester, huh?”
“Last semester was a total nail-biter. They're so ferocious.”
“The Rarosi-Sorden rivalry is pure gold. Kids, watch this—they fight like their lives depend on it.”
“White Badge vs. Red—it's basically a battle over the last elite spot. They've been neck-and-neck since freshman year.”
Were the upperclassmen's hype justified? The freshmen watched the ranking battle between these near-top third-years with eager anticipation.
The moment they widened the distance, the pair locked eyes in a glare.
“Begin!”
The professor raised the signal. Red Badge Rarosi immediately flicked his wrist, unleashing a barrage of ice claws. Ever since Archmage Tiasa Le Jerna Sojerinareus—one of the five rulers—declared ice magic the pinnacle of offensive spells, it had swept the empire from kids to adults alike.
White Badge Minail countered with roaring flames. A bit behind the trends, sure, but the classic counter to ice magic. The inferno surging from Minail matched Rarosi's ice claws in sheer ferocity without flinching.
“This time, I'll win for sure.”
Rarosi fired first. Ice claws shot from the magic circle etched on his wooden wand, hurtling toward Minail. Minail swiftly compressed the flames swirling around him into a disc shape.
“Flame Shield!”
Summoning his blaze, Minail met the assault head-on, intent on melting the ice with fire. Scorching mana from Minail clashed against Rarosi's frigid power.
—Kaboom-crack!
The manas canceled each other at the point of impact, rippling outward as mana waves. If those waves escalated into an explosion, Professor Asterion stood ready with his staff, poised to intervene.
—Whoosh!
With their manas evenly matched, the clash ended in a massive nullification, everything fizzling out in midair. Rarosi followed up by summoning a fist from the earth.
“Fist of the soil, rise!”
“Dwell in water.”
Minail backstepped, scattering water magic. The earthen fist rising where he'd stood got soaked and crumbled into brittle shards. Throughout, their manas collided and offset in rough waves, gusting outward like a massive pressure wave.
“Whoa! Keep going!”
“Minail, win! Don't just defend—land a hit!”
“Rarosi, you take this one!”
Luca found himself clenching his fists without realizing it, totally sucked into the upperclassmen's duel. The two traded dozens of exchanges with their opposing manas. After about ten minutes, Minail's condition finally worsened from all the defense, sealing his defeat.
“Today's winner is Rarosi. Minail, transfer 50 points to Rarosi.”
“Minail, you think you can win just turtling up like that?”
“Cough... It was just a bad day for me.”
Minail handed over the points to Rarosi, and their nameplates updated. Rarosi ascended to White Badge, Minail dropped to Red. Of course, they wouldn't switch dorms or lose privileges right away—only if they failed to climb back within a year.
That's why Minail could accept the loss gracefully.
“Whoa! Rarosi's the man!”
“Best senior ever!”
“Alright, good work from both of you. If there are any injuries, make sure to visit the infirmary later.”
The upperclassmen cheered, and the professor called an end to the ranking battle. As the pair stepped off, he extended a hand toward the sparring field, projecting a magic circle. In an instant, the battered, cratered ground restored itself to pristine condition.
“Anyone else want to jump in for their first match?”
Watching their battle, Luca burned to prove himself. To that girl watching from afar—to become someone she could look at straight one day. Sure, he hadn't trained in fancy combat classes like rich academy kids before enrolling. But he'd scrapped in street brawls. So... he could win. Luca shot his hand up high.
“I'll do it.”
Yaaawn~☆ The third-years' fight was boredom incarnate. Bickering with basic arithmetic like it was some epic showdown... I figured it'd be more brutal, bloodier, with real fireworks. Nope, ranking battles end like that? And I've only got two days left till mine with that total loser. So tiresome~☆ Zero fun, zero thrills☆
The spectator seats were comfy enough—maybe catch a nap? Then that Black Badge kid who'd been staring all creepy jumps in for the next match. That look of his... kinda reminded me of the last academy head tutor I kicked out.
“Pervert old fart...☆ Wonder if his candy shop's still kicking~?”
Gives me the creeps. Shivers down my spine. I'm not in the mood to hook up with any guys. This ain't some ero-manga—why would I ever go for a dude staring like that?
The one stepping up against the freshman Black Badge was a Blue Badge. Sigh... Losers fighting losers? Snoozefest. Propping my chin, I half-watched while zoning out. They tussled a bit, but it still looked pathetic to me. Especially that Black Badge's magic—irregular, street-practical to a fault. Gave me goosebumps.
Ughh...☆
“Luca wins!”
“What?”
“Black beat Blue?”
“Whoa... how?!”
I wasn't even paying attention, but these losers make such a fuss. Of course Black won. Blue could barely calculate, just dodging desperately, while Black poked holes in his guard however he could.
“Sparring isn't just about matching your opponent—it's about exploiting openings. Never slack on real combat practice.”
Not that it matters at my level. Nobody in this world beats me except Mom. She's a true Archmage, born for it—calculation speed like a machine. Sure, even if I explain step-by-step, her fixed ideas keep her from grasping mathematical magic structures...
The professor recruited the next volunteer. Some decent-looking blond in the front row shot his hand up. Nameplate... White Badge?
“Alright, you're Mohelsi, right? Who do you want to spar with?”
“That girl over there.”
Why do I feel like this loser's~☆ pointing at me? Yep, finger right at my face, and he nods.
“Kesera, Mohelsi's calling you out.”
“Bueeh~☆ Me~☆? Lame~?”
“Not lame at all. I'd like to humbly request a match with the top student.”
What’s with the archaic speech? This blond guy's giving off total young master vibes—probably from the south. Empire's southern regions are super backward, but archaic formal like that? Ugh... Guess I gotta step up personally again. Hope there's someone higher-year or actually competent. Looks like just freshmen here—win too overwhelmingly, and nobody'll challenge me.
I brushed off my butt to stand, but my skirt fluttered weirdly. Ughh... Never gets less awkward, even after days☆
“Very well, we'll begin the match between Mohelsi Le Cromi Nanaretorium and Kesera Le Armo Ascentrius. Do you both consent?”
Oh, there is one.
“Yes, if I may have the honor.”
Idiots who don't know their place? Time to crush 'em☆ “Sure☆”