A Battle Without Help -2-
-Boom..! Ruin stood alone in the training ground once more, wiping away the sweat pouring down like rain as he ground his teeth.
"Haa... fuck."
Nothing was going right. Ever since he failed to recognize Yuria at the ball, everything had gone straight to hell. Ruin clenched his fist at his plummeting fortunes.
"Take a hit already, damn it!"
There was no sign of improvement. With only three days left until the rankings tournament, his magic hadn't changed a bit. He'd practiced more than ever in his life, yet all he could manage was barely clipping a single straw dummy. It was laughable. Time was running out—not just to live up to others' expectations, but to fend off the torrent of criticism raining down on him.
"Fuck... fuck...!"
Inevitable comparisons flooded his mind. His peers had achieved so much. Mikhail had gained aura in just a year. The crown prince had reached proficient levels in both sword and magic. Yuria was skyrocketing with her holy magic. Meanwhile, he wasn't standing still—he was sinking into a bottomless mire. How could he not compare himself?
Among those once called rookies, he was the worst.
He had nothing prepared to live up to the expectations he'd once sparked. Ruin couldn't shake the mounting anxiety. He feared the blame from everyone. He had to do something—anything to grow in one shot. To repay the admiration he'd received, he needed to prove himself with raw power, nothing else.
"Damn it!"
-Hiss...
"Damn it...!"
-Snicker...
"Fuck!"
-Pfft.
For all his effort, the only thing piling up was profanity. Time slipped away. A day. Two days. With no results, Ruin just stood there in the training ground, fist clenched.
"This is hopeless. What the hell am I supposed to do?"
Ruin wanted so much. To apologize to Yuria. To be forgiven for that day's blunder. To be friends again, to feel that warmth again—the simple joy of being near her. But showing up like this, pathetic as he was? Too many obstacles, zero chance she'd accept him. Without brilliant magic, a shining future, or admiring gazes, he'd just look pitiful next to her sparkle. Others' eyes and his fragile pride held him back.
He didn't know she wouldn't even consider forgiving him.
-Tap...
Restless, Ruin bit his nails, sorting through tangled thoughts.
Isn't there some way...?
-Tap...
A way to get strong in just one day?
-Tap!
One day would be enough. Then I could beg the old man—he'd figure it out. It'd be good for me, and he'd save the tower's honor too...
Chewing his nails, he hunted for options. An impulsive thought surfaced; he ground his teeth and shook his head.
You're insane. No way in hell.
He didn't want to follow his friend's path. No matter how desperate, that wasn't human. It was embarrassing too. After mocking it so hard—talentless losers using dirty tricks. Ruin let out a hollow laugh at the temptation, shaking his head. No answers came, so his fingers trembled.
...
At the peak of his impatience—
-Thud.
A figure in white robes entered the training ground. A woman in her thirties, glasses perched on a kindly face. She spotted Ruin and flashed a bright smile, calling out.
"Oh! Ruin, what are you doing out here?"
Fake as hell. Like she wasn't thrilled but forced a grin, unsurprised but pretending shock. Ruin hid his gnawed nails behind his back, face icing over.
"Professor Schulia."
Riven Schulia. Magic department professor, specialist in mental magic. Popular for her sweet talk, but Ruin despised her. He chased explosive power, not sneaky mind tricks. Plus, her empty praise grated.
Wary, he eyed her. "What brings you here this late? It's well past closing."
"Forgot something. And you? You've been here a while."
"Nothing..."
"Reviewing, maybe?"
Schulia clapped, cutting him off. Glancing at his sweat-soaked form with a smirk, she leaned in softly.
"Impressive, Ruin."
Her pitying gaze irked him. He clicked his tongue, brushing off the "praise."
"Just go about your business."
Clutching her book, Schulia replied. "How could I leave a student so passionate? I had no idea you were this into magic!"
Praise from someone other than Yuria didn't thrill him. She seemed to belittle his talent, and she wasn't even better at magic. Unwelcome words from a nobody soured his face; he sighed.
Undeterred, Schulia pressed on. "I never thought you'd review—you never miss the back row. Other profs say, 'Ruin coasts to mid-tier easy.' Especially in my class, where you sleep through it."
"..."
"My bad. You're cool, Ruin."
"Done mocking? Get lost."
His sharp tone cut; he hated her nagging about his skipped lessons. Her honeyed barbs hid venom—Ruin wanted her gone. But Schulia smiled unfazed, stepping toward the dummy he'd scorched.
"Oh my..."
Gazing sadly at it, she turned. "What terrible magic. Fireball? Didn't even singe the target."
"..."
"Such a basic spell, and we have a student who can't manage? I thought our academy was all geniuses..."
"..."
"Amazing."
"God..."
"Oh! Not for you, Ruin—you're exceptional."
She whispered just loud enough: "Surely not..."
"You're talented. Tower Lord's disciple with gifts—easy fix, right?"
She rolled up her sleeves. "Let me check it out. Teach me your fire magic too—I'm weak on offense. Right, Ruin? Hoho..."
"You make me fucking sick."
Cold tension crackled. Ruin poised to blast, Schulia smirking down—dry tinder waiting for a spark. Ten minutes passed. Then she dangled her book before him.
"Ruin. Want to get strong fast?"
"..."
"I know how. Know Hops from second-year Class 1?"
Ruin stilled his trembling fist, recalling rumors. Fast-rising rookie. He swallowed rising bile, clenching harder.
Schulia grinned slyly at his hesitation. "I mentored him personally. Extra lessons... He's talented, sure, but you could learn too. Hoho, too boastful?"
"..."
Her smile chilled as malice surfaced. "Don't you want power, Ruin?"
He stared down at the proffered book. Drawn in, despite knowing exactly what it was.
I know.
Only an idiot wouldn't. The sudden offer, suspicious tome—it screamed black magic. His friend's path. The trash he'd scorned. He shouldn't touch it. But reason slipped.
Just once.
Once, and no one knows. Keep quiet, problems solved. Ditch conscience once, end the torment. Temptation clawed his urgency.
Schulia's lip curled. "Once is enough."
A soft whisper. "Learn it once... and you're strong again."
Ruin reached for the black magic book. As his fingers neared, her smile widened.
The moment he touched it—
-Crumble...
The book grayed to ash. Schulia gaped at him. "Huh...? This shouldn't happen."
Her cold voice slithered in. "Poor Ruin. This grimoire forces potential awakening... but it failed. No talent for this at all."
Her words shattered him. Racing heart. Forsaken pride. All denied. All a lie.
"Pathetic."
A quiet young lady's room.
"Fairy tale!"
"One moment."
"Eeeek..."
I gazed at the fuming girl clutching her blanket, a small smile playing on my lips.
"Just wait a bit? Something fun's happening."
I sensed the ancient spell I'd etched on Ruin activate, bursting into laughter.
Dumbass punk.
Looked like things were about to get interesting.