novelraw Chapter 60 : Toward Class 3 (3)
Chapter 60 : Toward Class 3 (3)
Chapter 60: Toward Class 3 (3)
“Could it be that Tyrant has seen through my plan?”
Etar murmured quietly, his gaze still fixed on Clause 4.
From the start, the reason he had broken an ancient regulation that no one had ever touched—just to engage in battle—was to clearly divide the territories into two.
While keeping an eye on Artel, Etar had planned to send him to the Underworld on purpose since there were too many watchful eyes at the branch school. There, he intended to make contact separately and guide his training.
For Tyrant to have made such a move in this situation meant that he had read through Etar’s intentions as if peering into the palm of his hand.
“Or did information leak out...?”
“……”
At that one thoughtless remark, spoken out of concern, Former’s expression hardened.
“...My apologies. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s fine. I understand how you feel, Headmaster. It’s only natural for you to say that.”
Among the members of the Draco Family, there were only two people closely connected to Etar.
Of them, Former spent nearly every moment of the day with him—it would not be an exaggeration to say he was his entire day.
So if information had leaked, the most likely source would have been him.
But that also meant doubting his own son.
Although Former had become Draco’s adopted son through Etar, he had grown up trusting Etar and serving as a proud member of the Draco Family. Those words he had just uttered could have shattered Former’s years of effort and will—Etar couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
“Then what should we do about the plan to expel Student Artel? Should we retract it?”
Former’s uncomfortable expression was gone now as he calmly examined the situation.
“No, we’ll maintain our stance for the time being. By the way, what’s the situation with the tavern?”
“That’s another peculiar matter. The tavern happens to be right on the border between the Wizard District and the Swordsman District.”
“The border... meaning that both wizards and swordsmen could gather there, the only such place?”
“Yes.”
Whether this incident would draw the attention of both factions—or whether, with hostilities so entrenched, it would simply be left abandoned like a ruin—remained to be seen.
The fact that it was the only place where the two factions could meet also meant that conflict could easily arise.
Some might deliberately pick fights, while others might refuse any contact at all.
But what was certain was that—for now—they would have to stop visiting that valuable spot.
“Vice Headmaster, it seems neither of us should set foot outside the academy for a while. Inform the members of the Sculptors as well—tavern visits are prohibited.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“I’d like to be alone for a while.”
“Yes.”
Former immediately rose and left the room.
“Tyrant...”
Etar clasped the agreement in his hand, lost in thought about what Tyrant’s true intentions might have been.
What was certain was that the battle had occurred on the very day the House Mihael’s open inspection had ended.
That meant something had happened there—just as it had within the Nohill Family—that had led to these measures.
It was all connected to Artel.
And to the two family heads who had lost their memories.
“So you noticed it there as well, huh.”
Among all the mages alive today, only six remembered those symptoms and knew what kind of magic it was.
The current Archmage and the headmasters of the five branch schools.
Because they had all once been disciples of a single man.
“In the end, you’re still afraid. You always said you were stronger than Lord Archis, but deep down, you were never confident, were you?”
It was Linking.
The very magic that Archis Eimer had used when he guided them.
Thanks to that, Etar and the other Disciples had been able to master the highest-tier spells of their circles in a relatively short time.
Etar was certain that among the existing elementalists, only six mages could manifest the supreme elemental spell, Orbification.
The Archmage and the five headmasters of the branch schools.
They had all been able to learn that spell only through Archis Eimer’s Linking—a spell they could never have mastered alone.
Tyrant probably didn’t know how Artel was capable of using such a spell.
Neither did Etar.
That was precisely why Tyrant hadn’t rashly deployed the Archmage’s personal guard to the Ed Branch School. Instead, he had deliberately divided the territories starting from the Underworld, intending to resolve the matter internally.
If Artel was truly a hidden descendant of Archis Eimer—or related to him in some way—then there had to be a faction or family connected to him somewhere.
Archis Eimer had disappeared three hundred years ago, and for any lineage to have continued, certain necessary conditions must have been fulfilled.
Tyrant had likely divided the territories for that very reason—to track down the source, not just the reflection.
Rather than the “copy” named Artel, he intended to find the true “original” who had secretly raised him and uproot everything from its source.
“To slaughter the innocent Emmet Family wasn’t enough for you—you had to split the Underworld itself... That’s nothing to be proud of. There are more mages who believe this world has gone wrong, Tyrant. How long do you intend to continue such evil deeds?”
Etar slowly set the agreement down and stared quietly at the empty wall.
Fwoosh.
A white robe, its sleeves trailing long enough to brush the floor.
To him, it was like a sacred totem of faith.
“Lord Archis, when will you grant strength to your weak disciple...? There was still so much I had to learn, yet you left my side far too soon...”
His murmured words to the robe carried a suffocating blend of desperation and prayer.
Still, as he looked upon the robe that still held the warmth of Archis Eimer, a faint sense of solace welled within him.
I found myself trapped in an illusion—one where Archis Eimer might appear before me wearing that robe, smiling gently as he said, “You’ve waited long enough, haven’t you?”
“I miss you, Lord Archis.”
Etar tore his gaze from the robe and activated the recording Mob installed in the 1st Class dueling arena.
It was a video capturing Artel’s duels.
“Hm, nothing unusual on the surface... He’s only using basic spells...”
For some reason, Artel had dueled exclusively with three students—all of them mages from noble families.
It was both fascinating and puzzling that, even against those elite students of the 1st Class, he had used only the most basic magic.
“Still, I think I’ll have to see it for myself to understand.”
There were things that couldn’t be captured in a recording—
the quality and density of the mana within a spell.
Those could only be discerned by the naked eye.
He had to uncover why the students were being effortlessly defeated by Artel’s simple magic.
“Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if he advanced to Class 5. Then I could see it personally.”
The evaluation for students moving from Class 5 to Class 6 was conducted directly by the Vice Headmaster, who personally tested the student’s magic.
That test could take the form of a duel, or it could be an assigned task to solve—
all entirely at the Vice Headmaster’s discretion.
If Artel and his friends advanced rapidly to Class 5 and the exam had to be held sooner than expected, then Etar himself could step in.
If Vice Headmaster Former were temporarily sent outside, the Headmaster could take over the student evaluations.
“Let’s wait and see—slowly.”
When three students were suddenly expelled, the atmosphere in Class 1 turned grim.
It wasn’t even an expulsion with any given reason—
the teachers themselves didn’t know the exact cause, so how could the students not be bewildered?
But that, too, didn’t last long.
Chaos was something easily forgotten.
Exactly three days later, the students were once again immersed in preparations for their dueling day for 1st Class graduation.
And so the days passed.
A week, two weeks...
A month, two months.
By early December, with much of the second semester already gone—
[Ranking Board]
Artel - 250
Kiena - 202
Mihael Russel - 198
Lamic Vir - 194
Banshi - 192
Nohill Hapert - 181
It was the current end-of-semester standings.
Although there was still some time left, Hei was nowhere near the ranking list.
There was no particular reason for it.
Lamic Vir, for some reason, persistently challenged Hei to duels.
Their win rate was exactly even—fifty percent.
Sometimes Hei won, and other times Lamic Vir did.
But every time Hei finished a duel with Lamic Vir, he would burn out completely and end up hospitalized for a week, which caused his points to fall behind.
Currently, Hei’s score was seventy-four.
He had once been at one hundred fifty-eight, but after a single loss to Lamic Vir, half his points were taken.
I need to do something soon...
Less than a month remained.
A long time, depending on how you saw it—or maybe not long at all.
If things continued like this, the amended school regulations meant that both Kie and I would be confirmed for expulsion along with him.
There has to be some way...
Why was it that only when Hei fought Lamic Vir did he always end up burning out?
There should’ve been enough time to overcome that mismatch.
And since Hei had only just been discharged from the infirmary yesterday, he’d have to dive back into a schedule full of duels.
Then, a new notice appeared on the Mob.
[Announcement]
-Additional school rules are hereby announced.
If a student with at least 250 points challenges and defeats a student ranked in the top three, the victor is immediately guaranteed special admission, and the loser is expelled on the spot.
Students with 250 points or more may no longer challenge others to duels.
“What is this...?”
And today, of all days, was when I had just reached 250 points.
Moreover, I was the only one within the top three.
The timing of this announcement—it was far too intentional.
‘If you just beat Artel, regardless of your score, you’ll secure special admission while Artel gets expelled. Are you really going to sit still?’
They were openly provoking everyone.
Even back in the first semester, Kiena, Hei, and I had already become the public enemies of Class 1—but this time, they were pouring fuel onto the fire.
As if binding me, Hei, and Kiena together as a team wasn’t enough, they had now thrown in this last-minute twist.
“No... maybe this is actually a good thing.”
It was fortunate that I was the one ranked first. If it had been Kiena, things could’ve turned into a real disaster.
[Duel Notice]
-Challenger: Fire Element Nohill Hapert
-Time: 9:30 AM
[Duel Notice]
-Challenger: Water Element Lamic Vir
-Time: 10:00 AM
[Duel Notice]
-Challenger: Light Element Mihael Russel
-Time: 10:30 AM
As soon as the notice went out, my Mob began to buzz like crazy.
Everyone, like a pack of starving hyenas, was now treating me as prey and scrambling to send duel requests.
Beyond those three, even lower-ranked students from other subjects were challenging me—at thirty-minute intervals, no less.
Since my duels had never lasted more than ten minutes before, it seemed that both the supervising teacher and even Nide had approved all of them.
“Fine, I’ll take the storm head-on. It’s still too soon for Kiena.”
The reason I had pushed myself to reach exactly 250 points was because I suspected more rule changes were coming.
I believed it was better to get struck first—to face whatever new restriction appeared head-on myself.
And my prediction had been right.
“All right then—come at me, however you want.”
For now, Hei’s issue would have to wait. I needed to take care of my own first.