As Nick made contact with Elbert's sternum, he realized he was about to kill the man.

It wasn't even something he did voluntarily. He had been actively preventing his mana from forming any actual spells, barely even helping his movements with passive manipulation, but the excitement of the fight had caused all the swirling power within his Arcane Circuits to take on a new hue.

This was something he wouldn't normally encounter during regular training. His efforts to improve his spiritual magic mostly focused on giving his [Spirit Blast] new effects by combining his emotions in different ways.

He had not, however, attempted to keep that charged mana within himself. What would even be the point of doing so? Spells, even passive ones, require a matrix and intent.

Here, he'd somehow managed to supply both by tightly regulating his mana flow and suppressing his growing battlelust.

And now it was about to bite him in the ass. The compressed mana was wild, and it roared with the desire to be unleashed.

If he so much as blinked wrong, he knew he would vaporize the man as everything erupted in one massive blast.

The realization came too late to fully abort the attack. Nick then decided that losing the bout was better than killing an innocent man and showing that he was incapable of controlling his own power.

His open palm turned just enough to avoid a direct hit, while he focused all his mental faculties on calming the roaring power about to burst from him.

Elbert, unaware of the mortal danger he faced, took advantage of the apparent mistake and delivered a powerful strike to his side.

Nick slammed hard into the ground, so focused on what was happening inside his coils that he didn't even try to roll with the blow.

He kept going for several feet, but even when he stopped, he didn't dare move until he had the mana back under control.

That was way too close! Damn, it was much more powerful than I'd expected from something I didn't even actively craft.

Such was the nature of this branch of magic. Just like his very first spell, [Spiritual Hurricane], which had been born from a moment of pure insight and barely needed his input, this one had nearly arisen on its own, using his accumulated emotions as the foundation to create a deadly strike.

If he had been against a monster, he would have gladly let it rip. But here, surrounded by a crowd, it would have been a bloodbath.

"Oy, you alright?" Elbert called, sounding worried.

Nick inhaled through the Stalking Gait, seeking any calm it could provide, and only when he felt the mana start to circulate again did he finally move, relaxing all the muscles he had involuntarily clenched.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he groaned, slowly pulling himself back to his feet.

"That was a direct blow to your ribs. Are you sure you are okay?" Elbert asked again, and Nick finally became aware of the pounding in his side.

Yeah, that's broken. Damn, he hit hard. I guess I should have seen it coming. My physical stats are high, but not warrior high.

"I'll be okay, just some bruising," he said instead. It would all fade once he got back to his room and drank a potion.

It was a bit annoying to dip into his stash, but the other options involved taking something from House Quack's inventory, which he wanted to avoid because he was sure the lord would somehow use it against him, or finding a target to drain. However, that would mean leaving town, and the ball was set to start in just a few hours. No, he had the potions with him for situations like these. It would be foolish not to use them.

"Alright. Sorry about that, I got a little carried away," Elbert muttered, sounding embarrassed.

Nick could see why. He had clearly stated he was a mage, after all. Going all out against someone whose class didn't even give him a single martial ability, even if he hadn't used his spear, and a kid at that, was more than a bit excessive.

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Of course, Nick wouldn't have lost if he had let the spell rip, but the consequences would have been too annoying to deal with. Well, that, and I don't want to kill someone in a friendly spar. That's important too.

Cheers from the crowd brought him back to the present, and he saw that several soldiers and warriors were excitedly showing their approval of the fight.

To his surprise, no one appeared to have lost respect for him. If anything, the fact that he had forced Elbert to go that hard and only walked away with a bruised rib seemed to boost their opinion of him.

Only one man stayed silent. Steven, the Master at Arms, was watching the two of them with a hooded gaze.

From the shock he seemed to be experiencing, Nick realized the man had noticed he'd thrown the fight. Ah. Well, let's just hope he keeps his mouth shut. Not like anyone would believe him anyway.

Indeed, it was already hard to believe that he had managed to defeat Walker, but that could be attributed to the teenager being overconfident and him being trained by a famous warrior, even though he didn't have the proper class.

If he'd beaten Elbert despite his handicap, it would have been almost too hard to believe.

Nick quickly excused himself afterward. He wanted to stay a little longer to overhear gossip and ask some questions, but he'd already made enough of a scene, and he could always listen in from his room anyway.

That was much stronger than I would have thought an unstructured spell could be. I don't think I even need to add much, maybe just some direction and a few control limiters…

Even as he walked away, ideas for the new spell flitted through his mind. Spiritual magic seemed to be much more instinctive than he initially thought. His attempts at setting strict boundaries, applying the same principles he had used for other affinities, now suddenly felt misguided.

After all, spirits were creatures born from powerful emotions. If a magical structure was necessary for their creation, the ether would be far less populated.

I might have been approaching this incorrectly. Spirit blast works because it's a simple spell, but suddenly, my failure to craft more complex magics makes sense. I don't need to build overly complicated structures; I just need to ensure the right emotional and contextual conditions, and the spells will come to me.

He itched to try his hand at it. He could still feel the embers of battlelust inside him, and it would only take a moment to reignite them into a blaze.

But now was not the time. A servant approached him just outside his room, bowing deeply. "Milord, I have prepared a bath for you, and the lady of the house has bid me to inquire if you need anything for the feast. She understands that it was sudden and unexpected, and since you were traveling, you might not have suitable attire. If you wish, she can provide her seamstress for your needs."

Nick blinked, surprised by the generosity. His first instinct was to decline the offer. He didn't want to get involved with House Quack any more than he had to, and he was already planning to leave the very next day.

But the man's words made sense. He didn't have ballroom-appropriate attire, and while he could probably pull it off with a clean shirt and slacks, he really shouldn't be that modest.

He had the coin to pay for it, and if a seamstress could weave him something in the little time that remained, it would be foolish to refuse.

"Alright, that sounds good. Send her up in a few minutes. I really need to take a bath first."

The servant nodded in acknowledgment, bowed, and left. I wonder if we'll need to hire people like that. I guess it's expected of Barons. We could have gotten away with it as a knightly house, especially on the forgotten frontier, but hosting noble guests in our farmhouse…

Nick had no complaints about their home. It was practical and charming all at once, but he could see how some might take it as an insult. Especially with Floria becoming a regional center, they really couldn't stay there.

I just need to ask Dad where we're going. Talbot probably wouldn't like being left alone, so I'll have to transfer his bindings to the new spot. Hmm, that might take some finesse to prevent anyone from noticing.

Letting himself into his room, Nick sighed. His ribs hurt, and he really wanted to get started on this new spell, but duty called.

"Bath first, dress second, ball last. After that, I will have taken care of all my responsibilities, and I'll be a free man once more."

At the far end of his room, a sturdy wooden bathtub had been placed, with rims high enough to reach his belly. The water inside was still steaming, and Nick quickly removed his clothes, only pausing to grab the vial of health potion from his backpack.

Looking at his chest, he could see the discoloration where his rib had been broken was already beginning to spread. If he didn't do anything about it, it might even become dangerous, as he could feel his breathing being limited.

Fortunately, his high pain tolerance allowed him to pass it off as bruising, and as he uncorked the potion and drank it in one gulp, he immediately felt a cooling sensation replace the pain.

It took only a few seconds for him to be fully healed, a testament to Ogden's sheer skill, that even a low-tier potion could be so effective.

Finally sinking into the water, Nick groaned. "I'm not one for excess luxury, but this feels so good."

Maybe having servants wouldn't be so bad. No, bad Nick. I can't get used to this treatment, or I'll miss it every day on the road.

Fortunately, magic made everyday life very simple. He could probably recreate this same experience on his own in just a few minutes, though admittedly his water and fire magic had long since fallen behind everything else.

And really, there was something comforting about having someone else handle the work for you.

A knock at the door a few minutes later pulled him out of the contented bliss he'd fallen into, and he shook his head. "A minute!" He called.

Pulling out of the lukewarm water was more difficult than it should have been, but he was quick to dry off with a gust of wind and put on some basic clothes.

He opened the door with telekinesis and let in the old woman he could feel waiting patiently outside. "Sorry about the wait, I almost fell asleep."

Giving an amused look at the bath, she merely smiled. "Don't you worry, young lord. I understand, my children were the same."

Her eyes then zeroed in on his clothes, and she clicked her tongue in disappointment, "Not a bad make by any means, but I can see why the lady had me called on such short notice. No, this won't do at all."

Nick blinked at the sudden change but silently let her walk up to him, tape measure in hand.

"At least the build isn't bad. Yes, I can work something out. It won't be anything real fancy, mind you, but you won't be laughed out of the ballroom," she warned.

Smiling bemusedly, Nick gestured toward the pile of his clothes on the bed. "That is all I came with, so anything even slightly elegant would work."

By the time he finished speaking, she had rolled the tape back up and taken out a piece of shiny black cloth from somewhere.

Ignoring his words, she began muttering to herself, adding and removing colored lengths. "Definitely an autumn. I would have thought a summer, but those eyes are too intense. You'd look ridiculous."

Nick sighed, hoping this would be worth it.