Just before crossing the threshold of the Aizen Arena, I looked up at the sky beyond the entrance.

Was it just my imagination?

It felt as if the clouds had been pushed aside by a massive roar.

The cheers and enthusiastic support erupting from the stands were, unfortunately, directed not at Frost Heart, but mostly at Wisdom.

As we headed toward the waiting area, I overheard a conversation between a middle-aged nobleman and a noblewoman sitting in the closest section of the stands.

“They might have made it past Ever Blaze, but Wisdom is out of their league.”

“Still, didn’t they fight well? They definitely look different than before. Overall, it feels like their average level has improved?”

Limberton laughed arrogantly.

“Our evaluations have gone up a lot, though.”

No sooner had he spoken than the nobleman loudly blurted out, perhaps wanting everyone to hear.

“I don't think so? That short guy lost in disgrace, didn’t he? Never seen anyone fall that fast in my life. They scraped together the best they could, but aside from him, that’s probably all they've got. That's why he's even included.”

An accurate assessment.

The others have proven their worth with clear achievements—except for him.

Judging by their keen eye, those two must be seasoned spectators of the Aizen Arena.

“Ah, wasn’t there one more person? The eldest son of the Tenest family won using some strange trick. So that makes nine talents total?”

“Hahaha, right. Forgot about that one.”

They’re people who don’t understand the brilliance of my strategic artistry.

Clearly, they’ve only seen illusions until now.

“Not even worth listening to. Just ignore it.”

As I said that to Limberton, the crowd’s attention suddenly shifted in the opposite direction.

One by one, figures emerged from the shadows of the entrance, revealing the deep blue of their robes.

Just standing there with their sharp postures, their imposing presence made it clear who the stars of the show were.

Were they conscious of the gazes?

All of Wisdom raised their staffs and projected their emblem—an open book—into the air.

The audience responded with loud cheers, and amid the growing heat, Ricks spoke nervously.

“They're getting treated totally differently from us, huh?”

Bellman adjusted his glasses and replied.

“Wisdom has long been established as Valient’s top rival. They’ve come close to winning eight out of ten times, so it’s safe to say everyone here supports them—except for Valient's own crowd.”

Maybe prompted by the attention, Limberton turned to the magic division members and asked,

“Don’t we have anything?”

Bellman shook his head.

“Anything we try will just look pitiful.”

He was right.

Even if we tried to put on a flashier performance than them, it would only come off as childish antics—the mood proved it.

That’s how much we were perceived as mere stepping stones to them.

And that includes me.

Sure, we might win a few matches, but we’ll lose overall.

“Look at Hersel. He’s smiling.”

“Wow, does he seriously believe we’re going to win?”

“That’s impressive. Staying so relaxed in this atmosphere.”

Those were Limberton, Silla, and Leana, speaking out with their own interpretations.

Those words became the spark that lit a glimmer of hope within all of Frost Heart.

I responded with words I didn’t really mean.

“Let’s all give it our best. That way, we can win.”

Even if we lose, we should at least walk away having fought well or given it our all against overwhelming odds.

“But I don’t see Dorosian around.”

Ricks sounded regretful, but his expression also hinted at relief.

He was definitely worried that if she made a mistake, she’d scold him harshly.

“...Yeah, that is odd.”

Where the heck did she go?

She personally trained some of the students who are about to fight Wisdom.

You’d think she’d stick around to watch, but she disappeared without a word.

It’s starting to worry me.

Though, it’s not the usual kind of worry.

That monster of a woman wouldn’t be in danger anywhere.

I just hope she doesn’t stir up some chaos, like her future self did.

After a few minutes passed, a staff member approached and handed us the match roster.

Erucel took it and spoke aloud.

“It’s about to begin. Let’s see... First up is Mircel.”

Mircel stood with an intrigued expression.

“Who’s my opponent?”

“Someone named Ikidel on Dorbas.”

“Eh, I was hoping to fight Lilot.”

His expression deflated in an instant.

Not surprising.

Just as Ares is famous in Valient, Lilot is the signature star of Wisdom.

Thanks to her pretty appearance and bold, flashy fighting style, some say she’s even more popular than Ares.

In any case, the bomb skipped its assigned target.

So who’s going to catch the blast now?

“Lilot’s fighting Hersel, Mircel. Don’t be too disappointed. Ikidel is a well-known magician in the curse field.”

Ah, maybe Bellman mispronounced it.

I hoped that was the case, but Mircel confirmed it.

“Really? Lucky for big bro.”

Huh?

“By the way, big brother’s in the third round. Right after Aslay, I think?”

Maybe it's just bad luck.

But somehow, I had a feeling Arshian had meddled with the matchups.

The slight smile she showed while looking at me seemed like a habit born from a twisted personality.

So what do I do about this?

Should I just lose cleanly, or try to take them down?

Still, since everything was set up nicely, I leaned toward winning.

Lilot is a recognizable playable character, but maybe it’s okay to beat her just once before sending her up.

She’s the type who’ll lose to Ares later and use the bitter defeat as a turning point to grow stronger—it might actually help her.

“Big bro, can you win?”

Erucel’s question made me nod.

“I can, if I set my mind to it.”

That was the absolute truth—no bluffing.

If I truly wanted to beat Lilot, Wisdom’s strongest fighter, I could do it.

So I pulled out the victory item I had carefully kept in my bag.

“Hmm? Why the book all of a sudden?”

“It’s my secret to victory, Limberton.”

“A magic tome? Wait... no, that’s just your usual genre novel.”

Ignoring his irritated face, I dove into my reading.

By the way, wasn’t Mircel up against Ikidel?

Even for Mircel, this might be tricky.

***

When he took off his robe, his dry gray hair and sunken eyes were revealed.

Ikidel stepped onto the dueling floor, enjoying the slightly cooler air.

As the boy from afar drew closer, his brow furrowed.

His opponent was such a small kid, he had to look down to see him.

And yet, people keep calling this boy a prodigy, full of promise.

‘I wonder if he’s even lived half as long as I have.’

Ikidel was a second-year student.

That meant even when last year’s monstrous freshmen forced out their peers, he kept his spot on the main roster.

Now facing Mircel, it felt like he was confronting the embodiment of all the things that had annoyed him.

‘Yeah, I really don’t like this kid.’

Ikidel had some talent himself.

But just having talent wasn’t enough to get here.

Unless your abilities were so extraordinary they left people speechless, you had to go through harsh training—so brutal that others looked at you with pity.

While the referee made final preparations, Ikidel let out his honest thoughts.

“How does it feel to be born with everything?”

Mircel scoffed at Ikidel’s mocking attitude.

“We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already brimming with hostility? Trying to play some kind of mind game?”

“Who knows? I just don’t like people like you, who achieve everything so easily.”

Mircel said nothing.

Sensing he had hit a nerve, Ikidel kept talking.

“Excellent bloodline, a prestigious family. If you didn’t have those two things, where do you think you'd be right now?”

Even as the referee declared the match open, he didn’t stop talking.

“You’d probably be living an ordinary childhood like everyone else your age. Even if you picked up a sword early on, you might’ve quit thinking, ‘Why do I have to suffer like this?’”

“Geez, what a gloomy personality.”

As Mircel responded, the referee signaled the match's start.

Ikidel smirked as he watched.

‘Got him.’

A spell drawn in the blink of an eye shone brightly, even without a staff.

‘Fingers refined beyond the precision of tools don’t come naturally.’

His joints had been trained to the point of screaming in pain.

He had practiced without missing a single day, to the point the pain no longer registered.

To secure his place among monsters, he had honed this magic, now unleashed toward Mircel.

‘Aura Seal.’

A top-tier curse spell that only works before an opponent activates their aura.

Mircel’s eyes widened, sensing a reaction from his core.

“Huh?”

“Bad luck. Too bad your opponent is me.”

“Huh? Feels a bit tight below the belly... My aura’s not coming out.”

Ikidel had never lost to a knight. That was the key to retaining his place in the main lineup again this year.

“You talked so much earlier just to distract me, huh?”

“Call it cowardly if you want. But don’t hate me for it. A mediocre guy like me has to resort to these tricks to win.”

With the conversation over, Ikidel raised his staff.

‘A knight without aura is finished. Especially a kid like this—easy win.’

Even physically, Mircel shouldn’t be able to match him.

Wisdom wasn’t just about magic—it also trained its mages to enhance their physical capabilities.

Ikidel cast a physical enhancement spell on himself.

He then emitted an electric whip from the tip of his staff.

Crash!

One swing cracked the floor, thanks to his enhanced strength.

Meanwhile, Mircel didn’t even draw his sword, just voiced his admiration.

“Not just your magic—the base physical ability is great, too. I can tell just by how you move.”

“If you don’t want to get hurt, I suggest surrendering.”

“I’ll pass on that.”

“Then I won’t hold back.”

Ikidel whipped the strike toward Mircel.

Mircel twisted his body without taking his eyes off Ikidel.

The whip grazed past him by a paper-thin margin, and Mircel’s hand moved.

Ikidel’s eyes narrowed.

‘He dodged it? But I sealed his aura—how?’

Then came the sound of armor falling to the ground.

Clunk!

Mircel spoke, his shirt fluttering.

“Without aura, you really need to keep your body light to dodge.”

‘Did he undo the chest strap while twisting his body?’

Ikidel quickly swung the whip again before Mircel could remove the rest of his gear.

The sparks grew stronger, the speed faster.

But so did Mircel.

Whoosh!

With a light step, he dodged again with ease, and Ikidel gritted his teeth.

‘Is he reading my attack patterns and reacting in advance? Sharp instincts. Fine—keep dodging, then!’

A shockwave burst out from striking the air.

Ikidel swung the whip repeatedly, but it only tore into the ground—Mircel remained untouched.

‘He may be a monster, but there’s a limit to what a body can do alone. Right now, he’s barely keeping up. But I can’t let my guard down. I’ll end this completely.’

While swinging his whip, Ikidel reached into his pocket with his left hand.

Out came a potion in a thin flask and a small straw doll.

‘I was saving this for Valient, but he’s worth using it on.’

He gulped down the potion, refilling his depleted mana.

The physical enhancement magic he’d already cast leveled up.

It was thanks to a high-grade reinforcement potion supplied by Arshian.

‘I’ll go even faster. Let’s see you carry this extra burden.’

Ikidel threw the straw doll to the ground and stomped on it with all his strength.

Mircel’s movements noticeably slowed.

“What the...? My shoulder...”

He glanced sideways at his shoulder and opened his eyes wide.

A faceless spirit was pressing down on him.

Ikidel chuckled.

“Trying to shake it off is useless. You can’t use aura, remember?”

Mircel dodged another whip strike.

But this time, Ikidel felt a response in his hand.

Crack!

The whip wrapped around Mircel’s body.

With each spark, pieces of Mircel’s clothes burned away into ash.

Ikidel was confident in his victory, relishing his achievement.

“Even a famed sword family can’t handle my techniques. Like I said—the matchup was unfortunate.”

But then a low voice rumbled with unexpected pressure.

“That’s a big misunderstanding.”

Ikidel jumped in surprise.

‘His body should be paralyzed—how is he talking?’

Maybe he could just move his mouth.

But that thought didn’t last long.

Despite the high-voltage current, Mircel was moving his bare body like a normal human.

“Hey, did you know?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve fought all kinds of people, including sneaky bastards like you. I only played along because I was curious—wanted to see what tricks you had.”

Mircel grabbed the electric whip with his bare hands and approached.

The last bits of his shirt fell away.

As he got closer, a sharp grin spread across his face, making Ikidel’s heart drop.

‘...I don’t know how he’s resisting the electricity, but I won’t back down.’

He can’t use aura.

‘If electricity doesn’t work, I’ll just switch to another spell.’

As Mircel charged in, Ikidel hurriedly tried to draw a spell, but got interrupted.

Not that it mattered.

‘He hasn’t drawn his sword, so he must be trying to fight me hand-to-hand?’

He had never neglected physical training.

One must always be prepared to handle any situation.

Ikidel’s strength was far beyond that of an ordinary soldier.

And with enhancement magic and a potion, there was no way he could lose.

“Do you really think a kid like you can overpower an adult?”

Ikidel quickly reached to grab Mircel’s neck.

‘He’s not dodging because he’s fast. He’s moving based on reading my attack paths. If I grab him, I win.’

He wouldn’t catch him in one try.

He planned to throw in feints to cause confusion.

But then, Mircel grabbed his hand directly.

Thud!

He didn’t dodge—he caught it.

“You fool. You just walked into your own trap.”

Ikidel clenched his hand as hard as he could.

Hard enough to crush that small hand.

Crack!

The sound of breaking bones echoed crisply.

“I’ll throw you out of this arena right now!”

However, strangely enough, Mircel didn’t budge.

Only then did Ikidel realize that something had gone terribly wrong.

The intense pain he felt in his right hand confirmed it.

“Huh?”

The joint twisted at a grotesque angle—it was Ikidel’s hand that was injured.

Ikidel couldn't keep his eyes on it for long.

A chilling gaze that made the fine hairs on his body stand up drew his attention.

“Yeah. Like you said, I did achieve things easily. I probably didn’t work as hard as others. I don't know exactly how much and where others trained, though.”

Contrary to his words, now that they were closer, Mircel’s body was covered in small scars.

Ikidel knew very well how such marks could be made.

They were just like the scars he would see on himself in the mirror after grueling training sessions.

‘No doubt about it. These are training scars. What the hell... how could someone so small have more scars than me?’

While his mind was full of confusion, Mircel grabbed Ikidel by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

Ikidel was thrown out of the arena, hastily drawing a spell with his still-usable left hand.

But Mircel’s sword, which had been resting quietly in its sheath, flew and struck his wrist.

As Ikidel landed on his back on the ground, Mircel’s sword plunged into the ground beside his face.

As the referee declared the winner, Mircel looked down and said,

“And you know what? That aura seal or whatever—you know, I could’ve broken it anytime I wanted.”

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Ikidel squeezed out his pride.

“...Tch. Still bragging to the end? Don’t lie. That’s not possible.”

“There’s a method to dispel curses passed down in my family. Like this.”

As he finished speaking, a burst of aura exploded from Mircel’s body, driving away the spirit clinging to his shoulder.

Ikidel stared, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open.

“Huh?”

“Why are you so surprised? If we got stuck by something like that, the name Tenest would never have had any prestige.”

“Well, maybe... but once you’re caught, it’s a different story. This is just unreasonable...”

“The world’s a big place. There are all kinds of techniques out there. If you really want to become a knight’s worst nightmare, you should research those possibilities too.”

Ikidel slumped his shoulders as he watched Mircel return to Frost Heart’s side.

It felt like all the blessings of this unfair world were crammed into that one boy.

It was a crushing moment—more devastating than any other disappointment he had faced.

‘He’s born with so much talent... and he doesn’t even slack off in training? How is that fair?’

***

“How kind.”

That was the impression I got after seeing the mercy Mircel had shown.

But Limberton clearly disagreed.

“Kind? What’s kind about that? He crushed that guy’s spirit completely! If it were me, I’d have quit magic altogether!”

Apparently, Limberton was furious on the opponent’s behalf.

“He pointed out his flaws. That’s not something you hear often.”

“No, seriously, look at that guy’s face. He looks so crushed he’ll never recover!”

“Well, then that's where it ends for him. Pathetic.”

“I swear, all you siblings have twisted personalities.”

“Shut up, Limberton. I’m trying to read.”

Just as I turned my gaze away from him, my eyes caught sight of a woman with black hair.

Dorosian, who must have arrived unnoticed, was walking into the building carrying a backpack.

It was a bit concerning, but the priority now was the match.

Since there was no time, I decided to go back to my book.

After all, I needed to refine my sensitivity if I wanted to beat Lilot.

***

From the stands, Athera watched Mircel’s match with a puzzled expression.

“How could he just stand there after being hit by electricity?”

Magdal scratched his head and answered.

“There’s no explanation except aura.”

“Didn’t you hear what Ikidel said? His aura was sealed. He got hit bare-bodied.”

Aol, who had been quietly listening nearby, crossed his arms and sank into his chair.

The reason Mircel could withstand the electric shocks without paralysis was simple.

‘I wasn’t planning to push him this early, but he went ahead anyway.’

The Tenest family had a training ground passed down through generations.

It was a tower located at the highest peak in the territory.

A place where lightning frequently struck and few dared to tread.

There, just like his father had done for him, Aol had taught Mircel.

-You’ll stand here and catch lightning with your body.

-Use your sword as a lightning rod.

Lightning created by nature was fundamentally different from electricity generated by magic.

If one could withstand it with a body wrapped in aura, they could achieve a supreme level of electrical affinity and step into the next realm.

However, this training was extremely dangerous.

-Lose your focus even slightly, and you could die.

-If you want to quit, better to stop now.

Even with his outstanding talent, Mircel was still a child.

Aol had initially refused Mircel’s pleas for special training for the Aizen Arena.

But he was persuaded when Mircel said,

-Aren’t you curious, Dad? Whether I can beat Ares?

He was a child who was exactly like him.

Once he felt a sense of rivalry, there would be no turning back.

His mind would be solely focused on defeating his competitor.

That’s why Aol also believed he could do it.

‘He’s in a state of deep focus. Originally, I planned to have him train a year later for safety... but this opportunity was too good to miss.’

Aol himself had gone through it at Mircel’s age.

Meanwhile, in the VIP seats, Coulo faced a troubling situation.

The lady of the house, who usually wore a gentle smile, picked up a telescope, put on a cold expression, and asked bluntly.

“Lord Coulo. Tell me honestly. What kind of training did you put Mircel through?”

He had previously spun a story about gentle, age-appropriate training.

In reality, it was nothing of the sort.

He made the boy roll around on the ground without mercy, sometimes even swinging a wooden sword with real force during sparring.

‘Ah, I even made him wear steel weights and dive into the ocean.’

Mircel had accepted it all without complaint, thinking it was normal, and had kept it secret himself, so there had been no issues—until now.

The scars exposed when Mircel’s shirt was torn earlier put Coulo at risk of exposure.

“Let’s say the scars are understandable. But how in the world did you train him to survive electric shocks bare-bodied?”

With no plausible excuse in mind, Coulo screamed internally.

But he couldn’t tell the truth.

‘Your Grace... This really crossed the line!  How am I supposed to explain that I made a kid stand in lightning strikes?!’