Cervito 2
"Felled in one strike!"
"What kind of casting speed is that..."
"That was a wind-element spell, cast chantless. Chilling precision."
"Is there something wrong with the mana gloves? They're supposed to withstand a direct 4th Circle spell hit a few times..."
"It'd be a different story for a 5th Circle spell."
"5th Circle? You're saying he landed a 5th Circle spell chantless and point-blank? There's only one 5th Circle mage among the participants..."
"At that level, he'd outmatch even a decent high 5th Circle mage. The real gem was hiding elsewhere."
"I hear he doesn't belong to any faction. Maybe I should..."
A handful of nobles and mages engaged in heated debate while the vast arena echoed with resounding cheers. Unlike those replaying the match in their minds, the commoners who had come purely for entertainment found the sight of the bout ending the instant it began utterly thrilling.
"Licht Sientia!"
"See? I told you—Schult Markersy's recommended contestant. Hand over the money."
"No, that's cheating..."
"The birth of the top favorite to win it all!"
Waaaaaaaaah—!
The arena ignited. The reaction dwarfed anything before. Amid the frenzy.
"This... this can't be real!"
Gwendolyn spat the words in a trembling voice. The woman couldn't accept reality. Her eyes, visibly quaking, refused to leave her disciple—now slumped in one corner of the arena, being dragged off to the waiting area by officials.
"Hoo..."
The man, seated, let out an awed sigh.
'A 5th Circle wind spell. Not even a standard one. A unique spell?'
The cheers poured down like rain. The black-haired boy standing quietly in one corner lowered his raised arm and returned through the gate he'd emerged from. With his match over, he'd head back to the waiting area soon enough.
The man could easily picture it: the swarm of nobles and mages blocking the boy's path.
'He's in for a rough time.'
Mana gloves could basically block two or three direct hits from a 4th Circle spell. To punch through in one go required slamming a 5th Circle spell right into them. And yet, he'd done that and knocked his opponent unconscious.
Power surpassing most 5th Circle spells. No.
'The moment the spell hit, he manipulated the mana again. He interfered directly with the mana gloves...?'
The thought sent an icy chill racing up the man's spine.
'Is that even possible?'
A greenhorn not yet twenty-one, firing off a 5th Circle spell chantless—and then manipulating mana at a particle level after it had already left his hand?
"Ha, haha..."
Absurd. Utter nonsense. But the man—and everyone else here—had seen it. Glancing around the VIP seats, the high nobles and mages versed in magic still gaped in lingering shock, mouths opening and closing soundlessly.
Unlike the ordinary folk who thought the opponent had simply dropped in less than a second, they had captured every feat the black-haired boy performed on their retinas. And just how unreal it all was.
The man's mind flashed to one word.
'Genius.'
Not just any genius. El Sion alone had produced plenty called geniuses. If everything he'd witnessed was real.
'A once-in-a-millennium genius.'
He'd shake the entire continent. Nor was the man alone in that thought. The eyes of the high nobles and mages, who had stared blankly at the spot where the boy vanished moments ago, now gleamed with naked greed.
'Schult Markersy... So that's why he's never written a single letter of recommendation before.'
It made sense. For a monster like that, no other raw gem would satisfy. He knew the overwhelming gap in skill himself. He could have toyed with his foe slowly if he'd wanted. But the boy hadn't.
One strike to knock him out. Deliberately.
'Showing off...'
I'm not like you mortals. Wasn't that the silent declaration?
[Match 9 of Group A begins...]
The announcer's voice rang out. The overheated crowd's fervor began to cool. The following bouts paled in comparison to the boy's spectacle—lukewarm at best.
Gwendolyn, who had stood watching the arena for a moment, turned away.
"Leaving already?"
"......"
"Well, Alex has you worried, I suppose. Nothing more worth seeing here anyway."
One 4th Circle mage's match remained, but the man rose alongside her. No need to stick around. The other VIPs in the special seats murmured only about the prior bout, ignoring the action below.
The two figures slipped out of the arena. A few nobles who felt the same followed suit.
***
The first day of the Cervito main tournament wrapped up in the late afternoon. With no further business, Licht left the arena at once and stopped by the Central Library.
Though El Sion was hailed as the holy land of southern continent magic, the library's tomes weren't all magic-related. Plenty covered continental history or swordsmanship.
He'd had no connection to books in his past life, but once hooked, Licht devoured them at a frightening pace. The ease of accessing tales of the long-dead through mere writing stirred something profound in him.
"I saw some good meat today and picked it up! Plenty of fresh fruit too..."
As dusk fell, Licht returned home as usual and dined with Sebrik and Lena. The only change from the annex was the lack of a separate dining hall, making the table feel much cozier.
'Not bad.'
Licht found it rather nice. Their new home proved far more livable than expected. The wooden mansion felt sturdier and more elegant than it looked. At sunset, crimson twilight flooded the living room through the windows, lending it a dreamy haze. Families with children strolled the streets, and the bustling shopping district a block away thrummed with life. Licht often spotted mages in robes emblazoned with the Heya or faction sigils.
"To your taste?"
"Extremely."
"Phew, success again today!"
Lena beamed brightly. Since settling in El Sion, Licht had softened noticeably. Even in speech and mannerisms. He caught himself off guard by it more than once or twice, and that was mere days after regressing.
'People change, I guess.'
Or maybe this was his true nature. He didn't mind. He had no intention of repeating the past.
"El Sion really is great to live in. If only prices weren't so insane..."
Lena's occasional gripes aside, it was livable.
"True enough. You've grown used to Britten's prices, I suppose."
"Even a little in the basket shoots past 10 silver..."
Sebrik picked up her complaint, and she pouted right on cue. El Sion's costs were indeed brutally high compared to other cities.
Licht said, "If money's tight, tell me."
"No, young master. We brought plenty from clearing out the annex."
Sebrik replied in alarm. The old butler who'd served him since childhood wasn't one to lie about such things, so Licht let it slide. Changing the subject, Sebrik asked, "More importantly, how was today's match?"
"You won, obviously! We all knew you'd take the championship!"
"I won."
"Hah..."
"See? Told you!"
Lena puffed out her chest proudly. Licht couldn't help a reflexive smirk. His plate was spotless—Lena's nagging ensured no pickiness or leftovers.
He pushed back his chair and stood.
"Heading out again tonight?"
"Yeah. Get some air."
"Be careful, sir. I've heard mages have been vanishing lately..."
"Don't come back too late. Waiting's tough."
"Got it."
Licht buckled on the Ascension Sword leaning against the table. Its golden scabbard gleamed against the white cloth in the sunset glow.
***
'Round of 32 starts the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow's Aila's match.'
The Cervito main tournament spanned seven days. Tomorrow would feature the other 32 in Group B.
'A full day free.'
Perfect, really. For Licht, it was an unexpected breather. He could hole up in the library all day or train in magic and swordplay.
"What's for dinner tonight?"
"Your favorite chicken soup, sweetie."
"Yay!"
"So listen to Mommy and Daddy, okay? Naughty kids get snatched by those bad slum folk over there—whoosh!"
"Nooo!"
Dusk had settled over El Sion's main boulevard. Streetlamps sensing the fading sun cast soft glows one by one. Even at night, the well-paved streets teemed with people. Robed mages passed by, families chatted amiably. City-exclusive enchanted carriages cut through the crowds, while bards perched on fountain edges in scattered plazas sang lively tunes.
'Peaceful.'
Licht thought. The southern continent's most prosperous city. El Sion's lights never dimmed at night. Excellent security let folk roam freely after dark. Its sheer size dwarfed most metropolises.
'Three, no, four times Britten's.'
Endless walls stretched to the horizon. But even El Sion couldn't patrol every corner. Slums with vagrants huddled near the walls in lower districts.
'Symbiotic relationship...'
Yet Count Frederickson left them be. The slums formed their own society—vast underworlds and black markets. They never crossed the count's minimal lines. The info guilds dotted around rivaled the continent's best.
'Might as well check it out.'
Licht, heading toward the center, suddenly turned. He'd seen enough tourist spots and public facilities. Quickening his pace, the bright streets and lively crowds faded.
"......"
Silence fell. Descending to the mid-tier district, the bustle vanished, replaced by a hush like the whole city slept. Shorter buildings, visible massive walls. A chill night breeze tousled his hair.
'Perfect for meditation.'
The clamor had its charm, but this serene quiet wasn't bad either. His black hair and eyes blended into the dark. Closing his eyes slowly, Licht walked the lower district's boulevard, feeling the night wind brush his face.
Thud, thud.
Crisp footsteps echoed in the utter quiet. Licht slowly raised his eyelids.
Swish, swish.
Spreading his mana wide caught faint presences on his senses. Heightened senses tracked their every move. Even most high knights or mages wouldn't detect such subtlety.
'Five, six... seven.'
Elite assassins, superbly trained. Licht halted briefly, then resumed. He'd entered the twisting alleys riddling the lower district.
As he moved, the faint presences shifted again. Old words surfaced.
—Lately, with all these mage disappearances, things are getting dicey. Not just rumors—the other day, a Neiman faction mage from the lower district vanished. No central or major faction mages yet, but...
Still, better safe than sorry.
—Heard about the mage kidnappings? Another one gone from mid-tier yesterday.
—Be careful. Mages vanishing lately...
'So that's it.'
He delved deeper into shadowy corners where lamplight barely reached. Hobos or corpses littered spots here and there, the stench of blood and rot assaulting his nose.
Then—
Whiiiiiish!
Dozens of darts rained from all sides. Perfectly synchronized, like a drill. Twisting his head, he spotted assassins peering down from rooftops. Deep hoods. Exactly seven, as expected.
One dropped from a roof toward him. Movements impeccably restrained, no waste.
'Holy power.'
A force utterly unlike mana—the world's other foundational energy. Licht sensed it amid the barrage. A brilliant golden flash erupted.
Splat!
"......!"
Undeniable agitation rippled through the assassins. Thud-thud-thud! A bisected corpse slammed into the alley floor amid spurting crimson.
'Kill all but one.'
Clang!
The belatedly drawn Ascension Sword bared its golden blade.