Chapter 26: The Duel That No One Expected

The First Duel in Magical Combat Practice

The first duel in the Magical Combat Practice class began.

The students stepping onto the stage were Seren Camillea and Hagen Brental.

‘I’ve never heard of Hagen Brental before.’

Though Sion had seen him in passing, this was the first time he was matching a name to the face.

Judging by his refined features and the quality of his accessories, he was clearly of noble origin.

He was slightly plump, but not overweight—a well-fed aristocratic student.

“Both participants, step onto the arena.”

At Professor Mehden Demourniza’s command, the two students ascended the circular battlefield.

Seren, as always, wore her usual sleepy expression, making it impossible to tell what she was thinking.

On the other hand, Hagen looked visibly tense.

“Hagen! You got this! Show them what you’ve got!”

“Don’t freeze up!”

“Don’t let the title of top student intimidate you!”

Encouraging shouts came from the noble students who often surrounded Estroza Farawell.

Was Hagen part of Estroza’s faction within the first-year magic department?

“Let the match begin.”

At Mehden’s signal, the duel started.

Hagen moved first.

“The primordial force of fire, the power that rules all—reveal yourself—”

Snap!

With his palm stretched forward, Hagen began chanting his spell.

It was the standard approach for a magic duel.

‘It sounds like he’s rapping.’

Even for 1st Circle magic, chant length was no joke.

His pronunciation and pacing were impressive, clearly honed through practice.

It seemed like he was preparing to unleash Fire, a fundamental 1st Circle elemental spell.

However—

“Burn, fire.”

A small, almost whispered phrase.

Yet, despite its quietness, everyone in the arena heard it clearly.

Only two words—but it was unmistakably a spell.

And as proof—

Fwoosh!

A flame burst to life in Seren’s small palm.

“Gah!!”

Hagen immediately aborted his chant, shielding his face as he leaped to the side.

Hagen wasn’t slow.

His incantation speed was above average.

But his opponent?

His opponent was simply on another level.

“Rise, earth.”

“Soar, water.”

“Devour, wind.”

“…!!!”

Two-word incantations.

With just these brief phrases, Seren mercilessly pushed Hagen into a corner.

Despite his efforts to hold on, he was ultimately struck by Wind and sent flying out of the arena.

“Hagen Brental, out of bounds. Seren Camillea, victory.”

Clap, clap, clap!!

As Mehden made the announcement, applause erupted.

“As expected of the top student.”

“Damn, but Hagen was pretty good too, right?”

“He just got unlucky with his opponent. I’m just glad it wasn’t me.”

“You did well, Hagen!”

The reaction was half praise for Seren’s strength and half encouragement for Hagen’s effort.

In a surprisingly warm atmosphere, both participants left the battlefield.

While most students were busy admiring the display of skill—

‘…What was that?’

Sion, however, was perplexed.

The duel had been too simple.

‘Weren’t the spells I used against the goblins also 1st Circle?’

A wide-range flamethrower, a high-speed rotating stone projectile, and razor-sharp wind blades capable of cutting through bone.

All of them were techniques Sion had developed using 1st Circle magic.

So why was this duel so basic and weak?

And that wasn’t the only strange thing.

‘Seren… something’s off about her.’

While everyone was focused on Hagen, Seren quietly stepped down from the arena.

Her sleepy expression remained the same, but she was rubbing her right arm repeatedly.

It was the same motion Sion himself had made when he overused his mana in the past.

‘But… she only used a few 1st Circle spells?’

There were two possibilities.

Either:

1. Her core had very little mana.
2. Her body was too fragile to handle the mana flow.

Both were plausible.

But if either were true—how did she enter as the top student?

Sion wasn’t familiar with the academy’s entrance exam system.

But it was unlikely that simply having a fast incantation speed was enough to become the highest-ranked first-year student.

However, before he could think any further—

“Second match: Sion versus Estroza Farawell.”

“…!”

Sion’s eyes widened at Professor Mehden’s call.

He had barely processed the previous duel, and now he was being summoned.

Suddenly, all eyes turned toward him.

“So it’s him. Can he even fight?”

“He didn’t even know Barrier Magic before. What if he just keeps casting barriers and gets knocked out?”

“Still… his lecture the other day was decent.”

“Don’t go whining and pulling out a wooden sword if you start losing!”

A Duel Worth Watching

Hahaha!

Laughter erupted throughout the crowd.

Sion could feel their gazes burning into him. Had his actions so far drawn too much attention?

It wasn’t surprising.

‘I did… cause quite a few incidents.’

Not only had he used magic in unconventional ways, but he had also taken over a lecture in place of a professor and clashed with noble students like Clive.

If someone asked who had caused the most commotion among the first-year magic students, the unanimous answer would be Sion.

And on top of that, he was a commoner. There was no reason for the noble students to look at him kindly.

‘This second attempt at university life isn’t easy…’

Sion kept his face expressionless as he stepped toward the arena.

Reacting to their jeers would only give them what they wanted.

He had no reason to care about those who disliked him.

Only the opinions of those close to him mattered.

“Sion, do your best. If the Farawell family’s reputation is true, this won’t be easy… but you might just pull it off.”

“Thanks.”

At the foot of the stairs leading to the arena, Patrick approached and offered encouragement.

…Was that really encouragement?

“Hmm! It’s quite tragic that two teammates must cross blades like this! But perhaps, amidst the clash of magic, a new bond will be forged! Hahaha!”

“…Gae Bolg.”

“Oh, and by the way, the Farawell family is famous as one of the three great magical houses of the empire. They’ve consistently produced court magicians, and their children receive elite education from a young age.”

Silence.

“…Well then! What an opportunity for you to learn from this duel! Hahaha!”

Gae Bolg grinned brightly, raising a finger as if bestowing wisdom.

…Right.

These two weren’t cheering him on.

They had already assumed he would lose and were offering comfort in advance.

“Sigh… I’m going.”

“Don’t get nervous! Just show them what you can do!”

“Don’t worry! Losing to a strong opponent is nothing to be ashamed of!”

Ignoring their words, Sion stepped into the arena.

‘Originally, I planned to take it easy like Seren… but that’s not happening.’

His eyes burned with determination.

The subtle condescension from the nobles.

The pitying encouragement from his friends.

If he didn’t take this duel seriously now, that would be even more absurd.

Mehden Demourniza, the professor of Magical Combat Practice, had reviewed the student roster before class.

One name stood out among the first-year students.

Sion.

Despite having only been enrolled for a week, the rumors surrounding him were unbelievable.

• He threw water on Professor Rhonda Margaret.
• He’s strangely close to Professor Lunia.
• He was seen getting along with a girl from the adventurer’s guild.
• He displayed outstanding swordsmanship in Professor Horiju’s class.

Each rumor was hard to believe.

Especially the first one.

Professor Rhonda Margaret was notorious among faculty members for being strict and difficult to deal with.

How had Sion thrown water on her and survived?

Professor Lunia was another mystery.

While Rhonda Margaret was infamous for her harsh personality, Lunia was known for her extreme introversion.

She rarely attended official faculty meetings or academy events—even reclusive professors made more appearances than her.

And yet, Sion was casually involved with both.

Among the first-year students, he had become a hot topic.

Mehden’s assessment?

‘Geniuses tend to stand out. So do troublemakers.’

His eyes narrowed as he reviewed the roster.

Sion.

No family name.

That meant he was a commoner.

And that alone made it clear—was he a genius or just another problem child?

Rustle.

Flipping through the pages, Mehden examined the students’ records.

Specifically, the admission applications they had submitted when enrolling at Byzantium Academy.

As he skimmed through the pages, his hand stopped on Sion’s.

‘His application… has a lot of missing information.’

Unlike the others, Sion’s admission form was filled with blanks.

But what stood out the most—

The “Recommender” section.

The name written there was one Mehden Demourniza knew very well.

“…Noias Beitan.”

This year’s leading professor of Byzantium Academy’s Magic Department—Noias Beitan.

He had personally recommended Sion for admission.

Not only that—he had covered the astronomical donation fee, the first semester’s tuition, and endured the scrutiny of others just to get Sion into the Magic Department.

Why?

‘What could a commoner possibly have that’s worth all this trouble?’

Mehden’s expression turned cold.

If someone asked whether he aligned with the commoner faction or the noble faction, his answer would be 100% noble faction.

And for good reason.

Mehden’s family name was Demourniza.

A house said to possess the blood of a great dragon.

One of the three greatest magical families of the empire.

He had climbed the elite path and secured a professorship at Byzantium Academy at a young age.

To him, nobles belonged above commoners.

So why had Noias Beitan—the most influential professor in the department—gone out of his way for Sion?

A Duel with Zero Expectations

‘Well, I’ll see for myself soon enough. Class is about to begin.’

Step. Step.

As Mehden Demourniza stepped into the colosseum-style arena, the students immediately tensed.

This was the second session of his Magical Combat Practice class.

“…Roll call. Gagarin.”

“Here!”

Without warning, Mehden began calling attendance while scanning the student list.

The atmosphere fell into an immediate silence.

Until a particular name came up.

“Sion.”

“041!”

“You weren’t present for the last orientation, correct?”

“…That’s right, sir.”

Mehden glared at Sion.

It was already irritating enough that he was a commoner.

The trouble he stirred up—all the rumors surrounding him—only added to the frustration.

And now, he had the audacity to skip orientation for his class?

‘There’s not a single thing I like about this brat.’

Even his delicate features—far from a masculine or dignified appearance—bothered Mehden.

He clicked his tongue internally and moved on.

“As announced last week, we will begin practical training immediately.”

Mehden pressed his palm against a sphere embedded in the colosseum’s wall.

Rumble!

The circular arena rose into the air.

A battlefield reinforced with magical protection spells for the students’ safety.

As expected from a class named “Magical Combat Practice,” they were diving straight into combat.

“The first match… Seren Camillea versus Hagen Brental.”

He intentionally called on the top-ranked first-year first.

He wanted to gauge her abilities, but more importantly, he wanted to set the tone for the rest of the students.

A dominant display from the strongest would raise the tension among the others.

Young mages had competitive spirits—seeing someone excel would ignite their desire to surpass them.

“Now then… Begin!”

As expected, Seren Camillea displayed overwhelming combat prowess.

‘Two words… She shortened her chant to just two words? Even upperclassmen struggle to reduce their incantations that much. As expected of the top student.’

Chant shortening.

The ultimate goal of every mage.

In real battles, the faster you cast, the greater your chances of survival.

Mages constantly trained to shave off even a single syllable from their spells.

For Seren to be casting with just two-word chants at her age…

By the time she graduated, she might even reach the level of chantless casting.

‘If someone like her becomes a court magician, it would be an asset. As for Hagen… well, he was average.’

Mehden didn’t spare a second glance at the losing student.

He had no interest in mediocrity.

Only elites were worth his attention.

Which was precisely why…

For the second match, he had deliberately paired up an “elite” and a “troublemaker.”

“The second match… Sion versus Estroza Farawell.”

A problem student against a member of the three great magic families.

This duel would serve a dual purpose—assessing Estroza’s abilities and putting a commoner in his place.

After all, a commoner defeating a noble from a great magic house was—

‘Impossible.’

There was a 0% chance of Sion winning.

Commoners weren’t meant to wield magic in the first place.

Why were nobles superior in magic?

The answer was simple:

From childhood, nobles received endless magical education.

They purchased astronomically expensive magic books.

They hired private tutors with the money that could feed a commoner family for months.

Growing up with elite education, noble children naturally accumulated more mana in their hearts and mastered magic at an early age.

And commoners?

They couldn’t even afford to borrow magic books, let alone buy them.

They didn’t have private tutors—at best, they ran errands for wandering mages, hoping to pick up scraps of knowledge.

With no time to train due to daily labor, their mana reserves remained underdeveloped.

And without a proper mentor, their understanding of magic was shallow at best.

In reality, a commoner becoming a “mage” usually meant they were nothing more than a fraud.

‘Now then… let’s see what Lady Estroza is capable of.’

To Mehden, Sion wasn’t even worth watching.

He had chosen him as a mere punching bag for Estroza.

A side character, a stepping stone, an extra at best.

He had no expectations whatsoever.

Even if Estroza wasn’t from the main family, the Farawell name still carried weight.

She had already built a reputation in high society for her magical talent.

And now, she had secured a spot at Byzantium Academy—a clear sign of her abilities.

‘Hopefully, she’ll crush that arrogant commoner properly.’

Mehden covered his mouth, suppressing a smirk.

In truth, there was a more personal reason for pairing Sion against Estroza.

It wasn’t just about measuring her skill.

He wanted Sion to be humiliated.

He wanted the commoner to be educated on his place.

He envisioned Sion being overwhelmed, beaten down, and forced to surrender.

However—

“Fire.”

Sion extended his right hand and muttered a single word.

A one-word incantation.

Normally, nothing should have happened with such a simple chant.

And yet—

Fwoooosh!

Flames erupted across the entire arena.

“…What?”

Mehden’s eyes widened—almost bulging out of their sockets.

To be continued.