* * *
Dorman, Mantis’s opponent, looked down on him and began flicking his forehead with his finger.
“My opponent is you. Looks like I’ll get a free win. I’ll go up there and properly fix those arrogant eyes of yours.”
Mantis’s expression, who was weakly pushed away by Dorman, twisted immensely.
Mantis could actually endure any amount of humiliation and shame in front of everyone.
What he truly couldn’t endure was being afraid of him.
Mantis muttered eerily, loud enough only for Dorman to hear.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment. You bastard… The time when nothing will happen even if a low-born like me cuts off your life.”
“…What did you say?”
Simultaneously, Dorman’s eyes flashed like fire.
“Hey. Can you continue your conversation upstairs?”
Hilde, who was standing in the arena waiting room, said with a cynical posture.
Anakin also stared intently at them without a word.
Dorman narrowed his brows and brushed past Hilde and Anakin, who looked like high-ranking nobles.
“…How embarrassing. Hurry up and get up there.”
The two had exuded an atmosphere of bitter enemies since the first exam.
Mantis, seeing Dorman enter the arena with a fierce expression, followed him in with a hardened face.
In the quiet waiting room, where the two noisy individuals had left, Hilde opened his mouth softly.
“Who do you think will win between the two?”
“Hmm, well, naturally…”
Anakin seemed to be thinking carefully about Hilde’s question, then answered cheerfully.
“Mantis, I think?”
And their match began.
So far, no one had been selected as a successful candidate.
The nervous applicants began to subdue their opponents more violently than before.
The instantly overheated atmosphere raised the temperature of the arena.
They did not hesitate to launch powerful, life-threatening attacks to make their opponent as ragged as possible before yielding.
As the arena turned into such a murderous atmosphere, the Pasadian disciples, who had been watching without interest, began to pay attention to the situation.
“Now it’s starting to be worth watching.”
“Keke. Human, you vicious bastard. You’re really going to hell.”
Two Junior Disciples with white embroidery on the trim of their robes chatted and joked.
And next to them, one of the Intermediate Disciples with gold embroidery, who had been quietly watching the arena, opened his mouth.
“Kids these days have no spirit. Thinking that guys like this might enter Pasadian… already makes me angry. Tsk. In my day, we fought as if our lives depended on it.”
“Would it be fun if one person died?”
“More than that, those brats are loud.”
A man among the Intermediate Disciples, with a stern expression, looked toward the Junior Disciples as if they were bothersome.
“Well, they’re probably excited to be out after a long time. They’re cute. Give them a break, Ron. They’re much more vital and better than when they’re among the dull gold robes. It feels like it would be fun to torment them too…”
“…You pervert.”
As he licked his lips eerily, Ron glared at him with disgust.
Finally, the Senior Disciples wearing red-trimmed robes.
They rested their chins on their hands, still maintaining unreadable expressions.
“…Boring.”
“…”
“I heard that the interesting children would start showing up toward the end.”
To this, Chris looked at him and said.
“…Did Rubdum give separate instructions? Berne. Since you already know.”
Berne raised the corner of his mouth at Chris’s words.
“Yes. It seems he intentionally didn’t call you.”
“Well… I don’t care.”
Chris quickly lost interest in the dry conversation and turned his eyes to the arena.
And at that moment.
“You’re dead.”
Two boys stepped onto the arena with a murderous momentum.
“The match begins.”
With the sound announcing the start of the match, fierce offense and defense were exchanged, and high-level Second Circle magic was frequently seen as the battle continued.
The difference in skill between Mantis and Dorman was a level that could not be ignored, but Mantis was compensating for that difference with composure and coolness.
It was definitely difficult for Mantis, a commoner who probably hadn’t received proper magical education, to defeat Dorman, who had been raised with all sorts of elixirs since birth in a good environment to cultivate his magic power.
However, Anakin thought that Mantis had more talent for magic than Dorman for that very reason.
First, his understanding of magic and his diligent training.
While Dorman had a greater sheer quantity of mana, Anakin thought that the calm judgment born from practical experience would lead Mantis to victory.
But perhaps his expectations were too high.
Mantis attempted a reckless attack and ended up getting injured.
‘I thought he was the calm type when fighting…’
“I think your prediction was wrong, Anakin.”
“…It can’t be helped.”
Injuries were bound to be fatal for mages.
Once they felt pain in their body, their calculations would go awry, and if they bled, it was difficult even to maintain their magic.
“Cough!”
Mantis, who was hit squarely by the wind pressure, coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Dorman, with an arrogant gaze, shot mana condensed into a blade shape at Mantis’s staggering thigh.
Thwack.
“Aaaah!”
Mantis collapsed with a scream as the flesh was torn.
Blood flowed profusely from the ruptured blood vessel like a faucet.
Dorman was about to open his mouth to mock him when he burst into laughter.
Kugugu.
Dorman was startled by a burning pain suddenly lodged in his back and turned around.
Mantis had taken advantage of his carelessness and attacked with a spell he had secretly cast.
The firepower and casting speed were excellent, but because Dorman had a shield up, it couldn’t penetrate deeply.
“You bastard!”
It was supposed to be a retaliatory hit, but it became a situation that backfired instead.
Mantis should yield now, but he was just staring at Dorman with wide, glaring eyes.
Dorman planned to use Wind Cutter to blow away Mantis’s upper body, and the onlookers, watching the intense match, were all murmuring that someone should intervene.
‘He’ll die if he gets hit by that.’
It was the moment Anakin urgently stood up.
Then, a Senior Disciple, who had been smiling eerily, raised his hand.
It was the first time a match had been stopped.
The referee saw it and intervened in the match, but Dorman, who was greatly agitated, ignored even that and cast a large-scale, fierce cutting wind at Mantis.
“Stop.”
With that word, a spell lightly cast by the Senior Disciple instantly nullified the Wind Cutter.
Crack!
It happened in an instant.
The applicants there saw it clearly with their own eyes, but they couldn’t even tell what spell was used.
It was clearly a large-scale spell that covered a considerable range, yet he suppressed it as easily as swatting a fly.
The master of that magic was a strikingly composed Senior Disciple with shoulder-length blonde hair and black eyes.
As a pile of rubble scattered, he jumped down into the arena.
“Hey. I told you to stop.”
“…”
It was a shocking situation. It was the first time a Senior Disciple had stopped a match.
“It seems Chris likes him.”
“I’m tempted too.”
The watching disciples murmured.
“Is that Chris? Chris the Destroyer?”
The Archmage Chris, who had gained widespread fame with the epithet “The Destroyer” for destroying everything in countless monster subjugation battles on the Ilius Continent…
The appearance of such a major figure caused an uproar among the applicants as well.
“Y-Yes! I apologize. I got a little carried away… Am I accepted?”
Dorman quickly regained his composure at his appearance and bowed subserviently.
His eyes were full of expectation.
Chris looked intently at him, then snickered and said.
“No. Not you.”
“…What?”
Chris looked down at Mantis, who was enduring the pain, and said.
“You are accepted.”
“…What does that mean!”
Dorman, who had been staring blankly, unable to believe the situation, regained his mind and shouted.
He was the one who won, so why was Mantis accepted?
“Why him, when I am stronger!”
The applicants also watched the situation dumbfounded.
They had also naturally assumed that Dorman would be accepted.
In his frustration, Dorman looked up, desperately seeking help from the other disciples watching from above.
However, the disciples were all silent, offering no opinion.
“You are weak.”
“Me… weaker than that guy? That’s ridiculous! Even if this is Pasadian, a result like this is…!”
Senior Disciple Chris, seeing Dorman who would not accept it readily, flashed his gaze and unleashed a powerful magic power that felt like it would tear the skin just by touching it.
Truly the level of a powerhouse who was allowed arrogance.
It was a killing intent so strong that his body tingled and trembled.
“Hee… Heek.”
Dorman, feeling fear instinctively, backed away from Chris.
Chris saw that and smiled eerily, saying.
“Hey, kid. Next time, you better look at your opponent before you sass them.”
* * *
