Cervito 1
The very next day, as soon as the sun rose, Licht headed straight for El Sion's Central Library. There was something he wanted to look into before the Cervito tournament. He barely touched the breakfast Lena had prepared.
5th Circle magic. How many spells are there?
The night before, Licht had succeeded in weaving a fifth ring atop his four existing ones. He had stepped into the realm of a high mage at the 5th Circle. The five mana rings now slowly orbiting his heart were proof of that. They weren't fully stabilized yet, but it wouldn't take long.
Wandering through the bookshelves on the first floor, Licht pulled out a few promising volumes and made his way to the reading area. As always, the long tables were piled high with books, and mages hunched over them, scribbling notes. The place was packed regardless of the hour—it was an open space anyone could use. Licht picked an empty seat at random.
Common 5th Circle spells.
He focused on skimming texts about established common spells. The pages flew by. He skipped the minor theories. Common elemental magic at the 5th Circle and above.
No need to prioritize fire magic.
Wind. Lightning and ice spells. Fire magic offered wide range and power, but it was slow and flashy—easy to anticipate. In a one-on-one Cervito finals match, wind or lightning would outpace it and seize the initiative. In mass battles, maybe, but not here.
Depends on the user, though.
Last year's champion was Elia Firvio from the Brave School, who favored fire magic. Skill mattered most in the end. Still, Licht saw no reason to wear an ill-fitting coat.
Then a sudden thought struck him.
Do I even need to learn them?
Common spells were refined over centuries for universal use by all mages—optimized for casting speed, stability, power. But that was it. "Universal" meant tailored to the average vessel. Licht's magic was different. He sensed ambient mana, visualized it in his mind, and manifested it. No incantations or gestures required.
"......"
Licht closed the book, more than halfway through. Want fire? Imagine roaring flames. Water? A flowing river. Wind? A raging storm. Earth? Unyielding ground. With five rings complete, his mana control and output would dwarf his 4th Circle capabilities. No need to hunt down common spells one by one.
He gathered the books to return them all at once and turned to leave.
"Licht?"
A youthful voice called out. He turned to see a boy in a blue robe beaming at him—the direct disciple of a 4th Circle elder from the Burneck School.
"It's you. Thought you'd vanished for good."
On his first night in El Sion, after their initial meeting, Licht had frequented the library often. But their schedules never aligned again—until now, right before Cervito.
"Where's that girl? There was one more, right?"
"Elia? She's stuck with her master, Elder Angelo. A new 5th Circle mage is competing this year—the top favorite."
The boy spoke like they'd been old friends. Vito approached slowly, then froze up close, his expression shifting wildly.
"But you...."
Scrutinizing Licht, Vito stammered in a trembling voice.
"5th Circle... for real?"
His eyes shook fiercely. Just days ago, he'd been at 4th Circle. Now a fifth ring orbited above.
He noticed.
Licht was equally stunned. He was a master at concealing his mana—even most school elders wouldn't detect it. Yet Vito had clocked the new ring moments after getting close. Proof this boy possessed innate genius beyond the ordinary.
Aware or not of Licht's thoughts, the boy muttered dispiritedly.
"Ha... I came to wrap up my research, and now it's all ruined. Another bust this year. When did you weave it? Yesterday?"
Licht didn't answer. Vito took the silence as confirmation and sighed deeply.
"Sorry to Elia, but... I'll have to tell her to give up this year. Word is Aila Pavria's already hit 5th Circle."
"Runner-up prize?"
"Huh?"
"Nothing?"
A sudden curiosity prompted the question. Winners got one wish granted by the count himself. But runners-up?
"There is one. A decent prize—actually, quite a hefty sum."
"And?"
"Fame."
"......"
"Perfect for boosting your value. Especially for mid-to-small schools. Land a spot in a prestigious noble house or under one of the three great schools. Not that it happens often."
Cervito champions often got scooped up by great noble houses. Take Aren—he'd been a commoner, caught Pavria's eye, became a retainer, and earned a title.
Commoners, lesser nobles without inheritance, or nominal aristocrats. For them, Cervito was a golden opportunity.
Licht pondered briefly, then stepped away.
"I'm off."
"Oh. Already?"
Vito's voice trailed from behind. Licht gave a small wave in reply. They both had finals prep—no need to linger.
***
"Filthy crowds."
"Even for finals day one."
"Heard about it? One of this year's entrants is a 5th Circle mage—the only one."
"That second daughter of Pavria? Skipped last year and the year before. What changed?"
"Oh, here comes another. Who's this?"
Cervito tournament day. The weather was clear. Unlike the prelims, finals unfolded in the massive central coliseum—a grand arena fit for tens of thousands. It was already filling up fast.
[Group A, Match 6. Breno Gets, Luna Bedley. Please proceed to the arena.]
The announcer's voice boomed from amplification artifacts around the venue. Soon, two mages emerged from opposite ends.
"Breno! Show 'em Spris School's might!"
"Luna, you can't lose!"
A few supporters shouted, but the crowd's roar drowned them out. Elemental spells flew back and forth until a victor emerged.
[Luna Bedley. Mana gauntlet fully destroyed.]
[Winner: Breno Gets!]
Waaaaa—!
Cheers erupted everywhere. Luna's bracelet shield shattered into dust; she hung her head. Breno, triumphant, paraded around, pumping his fists to the adulation.
Cervito wasn't just a magic tourney—it was a continent-wide spectacle drawing crowds for the show. Even without winning, a strong showing could land you patronage from foreign nobles. That was why they braved the trip yearly.
As the mages exited, whispers filled the brief intermission.
"See that? This year's got real talent."
"3rd Circle mages at that level? El Sion's in a league of its own."
"Speaking of, what about that kid in match four? Vito Berni, right? Ice magic's top-notch, but crafting spears from it...."
"Spearwork was pro-level."
"Rumors about Berni ties to martial houses must be true...."
Endless chatter. The flashy spells and clashes stoked the crowd's fever pitch.
And in one spot—a premium box with prime views, distinct from the rabble—a middle-aged man and woman conversed.
"Gwendolyn. Your thoughts?"
"On what?"
"Straight up. Your disciple, Alex Bayer. This Cervito's a whole other beast from last year. He ready?"
Gwendolyn scowled at the man's words, but he pressed on.
"The entrants this time are no joke. Clive Ash, Leslie Howard, Elia Firvio, Vito Berni."
And.
As he trailed off, she finished naturally.
"Aila Pavria."
"You know it. That Pavria girl—rumors say she's hit 5th Circle."
"Nonsense. Great Sage Laiyel Luerg broke through at eighteen. She's only seventeen."
"Could be true. Her match is tomorrow in Group B—we'll see then."
Propping his chin, he glared at the arena.
"Vito Berni. Lost the finals last year on matchup bad luck, but he's stronger now. You saw—the spell precision's one thing, but his spearplay's leaped forward. Training under some martial house famed for poles?"
"......"
"Sorry, but why not concede this year? Not saying your boy's weak—too many geniuses. Try again next year."
Gwendolyn stayed silent. The announcer called, ending the break as new mages entered.
"Round of 16."
"......?"
"Making the round of 16 is a win. He's one of the sharpest in our Bishark School."
The man, tapping his chin, replied.
"Eight 4th Circles and one 5th. To hit round of 16, he'd have to beat them.... Possible?"
"Circle count isn't everything. You know that."
"True, but...."
"So he'll win. Alex has veteran merc and caravan guard experience."
Different caliber, she added. The man chuckled.
"Waaaaa!"
"Next match?"
The coliseum's heat was at a boil. Moments later, the announcer's voice echoed.
[Group A, Match 8. Alex Bayer, Licht Sientia. Please proceed to the arena.]
No sooner said than a boy emerged from the massive gates on either side. Clearly high-end, his green robe bore the Bishark School emblem—wind as primary element. Hood thrown back to burn his face into memories.
But eyes locked on the opposite side.
"Licht Sientia?"
"Who? Never heard."
"I know! Elder Shult's recommender!"
"Shult Markersy? For real?"
"Doesn't look the part...."
"Alex Bayer! Heard he's slick with wind—casting's lightning-fast."
"Match over then."
"Boring."
Murmurs rippled through the stands. In the premium box, Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes.
"Licht Sientia...."
"That kid's the famous Elder Shult's pick? Doesn't look special. Pretty boy to swoon the girls—skinny as hell. Can he even fire a spell straight?"
Shult misjudged, tsk tsk. Gwendolyn shot the tsking man a glare, then eyed the arena center.
A youthful boy strolled out opposite her disciple. Black hair, black eyes. Not a robe but a worn cloak. No staff or wand—like a casual neighborhood stroll.
"He wins."
"Hm? Wins what."
Gwendolyn murmured low. The man reflexively asked; she repeated.
"Worried for a sec since it's Shult's recommender, but false alarm. Feel that? Not a speck of mana."
"True.... First match'll be a snooze."
"Save the drama for later. Easy win in the opener ain't bad."
As she stared daggers at Licht, Alex twirled his staff.
Noise in the arena hushed as the boy opened his mouth.
"Heard you got Elder Shult's recommendation—had high hopes. Disappointing. This the Cervito finals or a park stroll?"
Puhahaha!
Laughter exploded from the crowd. Pre-match taunts built favor. In the circular coliseum, ten thousand mocking voices echoed thunderously.
Alex smirked smugly and continued.
"Sientia. Never heard the house. Fresh country bumpkin in the big city? No clue how you snagged Shult's rec...."
Tak!
Staff tip struck the floor. Gem ornaments jingled crisply.
"No staff? Couldn't afford one? Hope that twig you pull out ain't some roadside branch."
Laughter erupted again. Licht hadn't spoken yet.
Frozen solid. Steam's gone.
"No need to talk more. Witness the gap."
Alex added.
"One shot."
Waaaaa—!
[5 seconds to match start.]
[5, 4.....]
Cheers and the announcer boomed. The boy readied himself. Wind magic's edges: near-silent, second only to lightning in cast speed.
[3......]
Then.
"Pointless."
"...What?"
[2.......]
Licht spoke for the first time. Time ticking down. Alex furrowed his brow at the sudden words.
"What'd you say?"
"You."
[1....!]
"Talk too much."
Piiiiieeee—!
Licht raised his empty right hand. Start signal blared.
"Kuh...!"
Alex whipped up his staff to follow. Right hands—and green-gem staff—aimed at each other.
I win!
Alex was certain inwardly. Mana-less rookie. Without staff or wand aid, no-chant casting couldn't match his speed.
I'll show you.
3rd Circle wind common spell.
"Wind...!"
Kwang!
"Guhk!"
No more words. As Alex began incanting, an invisible shockwave slammed him to the arena's edge.
Kwaang!
The wall cracked and crumbled amid massive impact. Rubble pattered, cracks spiderwebbed. Glass shattered!
"Kueeeek...."
Thud!
Blue light enveloped the boy, dropping him below the arena. His one-use mana gauntlet split and dissolved.
"......"
Dead silence blanketed the coliseum.
One middle-aged woman in the premium box shot to her feet. Her bulging eyes said it all.
"What the...?"
Horror in her expression and voice. No one could speak.
A seasoned 3rd Circle mage downed in one clash by an unknown boy. Match over in 1 second. Unprecedented in Cervito history.
[W-W-Winner....]
The announcer stammered.
[Licht Sientia!]
The amplified voice shattered the silence, crystal clear. A beat later, mad cheers exploded.