Chapter 53
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Cheeky Brat + Tamer = Masochist's Brat (2)
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"...Huff... huff..."
Tristan bent at the waist, gasping for breath.
His body was covered in wounds; there wasn't a single unscathed spot left.
His shoulder in particular had a chunk of flesh torn clean off, blood pouring from it.
...Just a graze from an ogre's claw had done this.
'Good thing I brought some herbs.'
He usually scrimped even on herbs like these, but Gigamind's advice had stuck with him this time, so he'd packed the bare minimum.
Fwoosh-
Tristan tore his ragged cloak into strips like bandages, stuffed some herbs in his mouth, and chewed.
The bitter taste filled his mouth, so he spat the pulp onto the bandage and pressed it to his shoulder.
"...."
A horrific pain shot through him as the bandage touched the wound, but Tristan didn't make a sound, finishing the job and stemming the bleeding.
Once bandaged, he looked around. The mountainside, blanketed in pure white snow, was now stained red with blood, and atop it lay the corpses of massive ogres with blue skin.
Tristan walked slowly toward the bodies.
"Wind Blade"
As he severed an ogre's horn and stored it in his pouch, Tristan thought.
'...Something's off.'
It was true that Tristan took on risky jobs for the money.
But that didn't make him a suicidal fool.
As a mage, Tristan's skills were beyond reproach—top-class.
Not arrogance; objectively, you couldn't hold a professorship at Carnea Academy without being elite.
So he'd judged the ogre subjugation tough but manageable with care...
He'd miscalculated.
Ogres, tyrants of the mountains, were still living creatures.
Hit them with advanced spells from the start to show overwhelming power, and fear usually created openings.
Not this time.
No matter how much he demonstrated the gap in strength, not one cowered or fled—they charged at Tristan to the bitter end.
'...That's not all.'
These ogres weren't just berserk; they moved like they were under someone's command, pressing Tristan relentlessly...
Thud—
That was when it happened.
Thud—
With an earthquake-like rumble, it appeared.
—Grrrrr...
A blood-red ogre, its body crawling with black veins writhing like spiderwebs.
"...."
This crimson ogre exuded a presence worlds apart from the others.
For starters, it was twice their size. Split horns draped with bear pelt, right hand gripping a massive club like an uprooted tree.
—ROOOARRR!
The crimson ogre bellowed a mountain-shaking roar, furious at its minions' deaths.
'Hah...'
Tristan let out a hollow chuckle.
Anyone would say give up—this was hopeless.
But thinking of his daughter, left alone if he died, Tristan bit down on the bandage's end with his teeth and tied it tight.
"...I'll be a bit late for tomorrow's lecture."
As Tristan muttered, the crimson ogre swung its club at him.
'Today's the last one.'
The final practice day before the inter-year tournament.
I closed my eyes and let out a long breath.
—'I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Sorry for being born.'
A few days ago, the moment Vivian came to, she apologized to me like a madwoman.
—'It's fine.'
Sure, her mana had hurt like hell, but it happened because of what I made her do.
So no punishment was in order...
-'Hic... I-I'm... even too worthless for proper punishment... s-sorry...'
But when she started self-harming, I panicked and gave her one.
-'Guh-heh... Eu... gene... harder... please...'
...I tried to hold back to avoid scars, but...
In the end, only after choking her till she foamed at the mouth did Vivian finally calm.
-'Kgh... Khugh... Th-thank... you... kgh...!'
Thinking back made me want to sigh again.
If Lucia debased herself out of excessive love for me, Vivian seemed to do it to avoid being discarded.
...Truth be told, as long as she didn't twist further, a personality like Vivian's made harem endings convenient.
Just keeping her around would have her grateful.
But if she veered even a little more off...?
...A psycho Vivian who'd self-harm at the slightest mistake.
'I won't let it come to that...'
To manage Vivian's mentality, I had to攻略 Bianca as fast as possible.
"...You've got guts."
Loreos, my sparring partner across from me, spoke up.
In this ear-numbing cold, he wore only a thin shirt that clung to his silhouette.
"Daydreaming in front of me."
As Loreos flexed, his muscles swelled, straining the shirt to its limits.
'...What kind of mage is that?'
Loreos's physique was too honed for a mage.
Most knights wouldn't match it.
"...Not daydreaming—I was devising a plan to take you on, Professor."
Pure bullshit, but Loreos smirked, pleased.
"Fine, let's hear this plan of—"
"Wind Blade"
"Wind Blade"
Fuck that.
First strike wins.
Before Loreos could finish, I launched two wind blades with high-speed casting.
The first from my fingertips, normal...
The second summoned right beside his head.
Slash—
Sudden wind blade by his head, but Loreos casually ducked it.
'...Insane.'
A perfect ambush, yet he reacted with a mage's body?
"...Now that's a plan. Learning coordinate designation in a week? Impressive."
Despite the surprise attack, Loreos wasn't mad—he smiled, satisfied.
"Wasn't easy."
No humility; it really wasn't.
Without Lucia chugging mana potions like water all weekend for 'mana resonance,' I'd never have pulled it off.
"I'd love to praise you more, but... I can feel your mana flow too clearly. Strong mana signature means high loss on creation. Efficiency's poor."
"..."
I knew without him saying.
'Coordinate Designation' was barely usable—fine for practice, not battle.
Even with Lucia's cheat-level help, my talent fell short of mastering it.
'Hearing it like that kills my confidence.'
I bowed my head.
And... curled my lips up.
I lacked confidence.
Against Bianca.
My spell power was fixed anyway, thanks to the Tamer trait.
Plus, against Bianca, it'd end in an 'ultra-short blitz'—mana drain wasn't an issue.
The heavy mana flow would even make her react better to my spells. Win-win.
"So... plan over already? Impressive enough, but a shame."
"No way."
I grinned at Loreos's words and chanted.
"Wind Blade"
"Veyra—Wind Blade"
Magic unfolding almost simultaneously before and behind Loreos.
But as he said, my coordinate spells' heavy mana made it hard to tell which was mid-tier.
"Flame Arrow"
Boom-!
Loreos blocked with magic for the first time.
"...Mid-tier too? And using mana flow as a feint?"
Loreos looked genuinely shocked now.
Coordinate designation was harder than mid-tier for acquisition difficulty, but practical Loreos naturally valued mid-tier more.
"...You really mean to beat the second-years."
I nodded.
I had to win this inter-year tournament. Second year, at least Class 2.
'Ideally Class 1, but...'
That was pushing it.
Even in Academy Tamer, Class 1 in second year meant skipping all tamer routes for pure grinding.
...Which locked you out of main events, straight to bad end.
'Still, finish the two vacation main events, grab 'Tentacles' there, schmooze the Calliope family for a decent item...'
If all went to plan, midterms second year—I'd rocket to top of Class 2.
"Very well... if that's your resolve, I'll get serious too."
Riiiip-
Loreos tensed, and his shirt shredded, unable to contain the muscle.
Fwooo—
Smoke rose from his bare torso.
'...The fuck?'
How was that a mage, no matter how you sliced it?
Loreos should've gone knight route.
"Come at me, Eugene."
Loreos said, his pecs twitching.