The reason Dorosian got involved in the Ten Elites challenge was simple.

Her challenger, without fear, picked a fight with her.

‘Aros, was it?’

Her goal was to gain the title of having defeated Dorosian.

The more witnesses, the sweeter the victory would taste.

So, Aros proposed a match to Dorosian for a spot in the Ten Elites, hoping to attract attention.

Of course, Dorosian had no idea what the Ten Elites challenge even was, nor did he care.

But she accepted for an obvious reason.

“A rabbit came right to her doorstep?”

Among all the herbivores who had been busy running away, one rabbit dared to approach her.

There’s no way a hungry fox would just let it go.

Dorosian would use this match as an opportunity to play with Aros like a toy and quench her long-suppressed thirst.

So, I will pray for the poor woman, Aros.

“Rest in peace.”

***

The venue was the bustling training ground, crowded with people.

In the center, there was a large rectangular stone stage.

It was an arena implemented as a portable magic tool, like a mobile fortress called a “Multi-Fortress.”

A bit farther from the stage, various food stalls and souvenir stands were set up, making the scene resemble a festival.

“Anyone want honey-glazed apples?”

“We’re selling Aros plush dolls! Oh, these aren’t for sale yet, they’re just samples. Since the match was unexpected, we don’t have finished products, so we’re only taking pre-orders with deposits…”

“Anyone need souvenirs?”

Next to me, Mircel gaped in amazement.

“They’re selling a lot of stuff, huh?”

“All of these are from clubs here for the event.”

With the famous Dorosian facing off against Second seat Aros, it was no wonder.

For those who had been cooped up, this kind of intense spectacle was a big deal.

Naturally, nearly the entire student body had gathered, and merchants showed up to empty their wallets.

And, of course, there was betting.

“Place your bets, place your bets!”

Athera was waving a betting ledger with a portable loudspeaker in hand, one that she had probably bought from somewhere.

People swarmed around, shouting excitedly.

One of them was loud enough for me to hear clearly even from a distance.

“I’m betting on Aros!!”

Second seat Aros.

I wanted to tell him it was a foolish choice, but from his perspective, it made sense.

After all, Dorosian was encased in three layers of magic-restraining armor, while Aros was an upper-level mage who had awakened three sensory abilities.

Furthermore, the second- and third-year students were well aware of something.

These cunning elites secretly bought ridiculously expensive doping potions with the huge sums of money they received from the student council and secretly took them.

Having already placed my own bet with Athera, I ignored the chaos and moved on.

After walking for a while, Mircel kept glancing at one of the food stalls, a skewer stall run by the cooking club.

“What? You want to try some?”

I asked, and Mircel thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure.”

“You keep looking, though.”

“No, it’s just… It feels like I’ve seen it before, like when we pass the market in a carriage.”

He was curious, as street food was far from something bourgeois nobles would typically eat.

“For commoner food, it’s pretty tasty.”

“I’m curious. I want to try it.”

I bought skewers for both of us, handing one to Mircel.

We chewed on the meat as we made our way to the next destination.

“Hey, where are we headed anyway? It feels like we’re moving further from the arena.”

“Those seats are for the commoners craning their necks to watch. We’re headed to the VIP section.”

“There’s such a thing?”

“Of course.”

In addition to food, souvenirs, and betting, there were plenty of services being offered.

We were on our way to a club that provided premium seats with a great view.

I pushed through the crowd of hawkers and customers and approached the tent where the members of the Formulation Club were gathered.

At the entrance stood Ricks, who greeted me with a welcoming expression.

“Hersel? What brings you here? Ah, and you must be Mircel. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mircel responded politely.

I asked Ricks, “Are you working here?”

“They asked anyone confident in formulation magic to come, and the pay was good, so here I am.”

Ricks’s job was to use magic to create things like seats in the far end of the arena.

Since the festival was unexpected, it was nearly impossible to get the materials to build the seats in time.

But for those talented in formulation magic, that wasn’t a problem. They could just create them with magic.

“Two of the best seats, please.”

“Alright, two seats reserved.”

Ricks pulled out a pocket watch.

It seemed like the match was about to begin, as he hurriedly ran over to a man visible beyond the tent entrance.

The man appeared to be the leader of the club.

“Senior, it’s almost time,” Ricks said.

“Oh, alright. Is everyone ready?”

When the club leader asked this, the magic department members began streaming out of the tent like a river.

They controlled the crowd and cleared some space, then drew magic circles with their wands toward the empty area they had created.

A buzzing sound echoed.

I figured it was because they were casting magic together.

A few seconds later, the club leader shouted loudly, “You all remember the blueprint, right? Just follow it exactly. Even if you make a small mistake, don’t worry. We can fix it.”

After his words, a massive spectator stand began to take shape.

It looked like a quarter slice of a baseball stadium’s bleachers.

Though it was a temporary structure created with magic and would eventually disappear, it would last long enough for the duel to finish.

“The VIP seats are this way. Follow me.”

Mircel and I followed Ricks up the stairs.

As expected of premium seats, the area was spacious with only a few chairs, and side tables were equipped with telescopes.

Mircel sat in one of the cushioned chairs and bounced against the backrest.

“For something made with magic, it’s really soft!”

“I made that. How is it? Feels real, right?”

“Wow, you can even make things like this. Magic is really amazing.”

“Isn’t it?”

Mircel looked away from the proud Ricks and glanced up at me.

“Can you do stuff like this too?”

“…Ahem, one day,” I answered vaguely.

Mircel nodded in awe.

“So that’s why you’re learning magic.”

My heart skipped a beat.

The cursed sword didn’t miss this chance to throw in a snide remark.

‘Do you really think you’ll ever wield magic like that someday?’

‘Shut up…’

I pulled out my pocket watch and sat down.

In a few minutes, the professor serving as the referee would arrive, and Dorosian and Second seat Aros would appear from both sides.

I kept an eye on the field, waiting for them to show up.

Meanwhile, Mircel seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, marveling at the scene below.

“So, this is what a festival is like?”

“Yeah, this is a festival.”

—Not the kind where people get killed, like your mother’s idea of one.

“Getting to see something like this… I’m really glad I came with you.”

His glowing praise made me feel good.

I had been worried he might regret coming here, but it seemed he was pretty satisfied.

“That’s good to hear.”

A few minutes passed, and as the pocket watch struck 6:00, the bustling training ground fell silent.

In the center of the arena stood a professor in a black robe. It was Rockefeller.

Rockefeller waved his outstretched arms inward. It was the signal for the duelists to come up.

Dorosian and Aros ascended the stairs and appeared on the arena stage.

Finally, the match for the Second seat was about to begin.

***

A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd surrounding the arena.

Despite the noise, Dorosian calmly focused her senses on the opponent before her.

Though reluctant, she knew she had to pay at least some attention in this fight.

After all, her mana was being restrained by three layers of magic armor, and she didn’t even have a wand.

Meanwhile, the amount of mana radiating from her opponent was greater than her own, and Aros was holding a top-grade wand.

“The awakened senses are Formulation, Elemental, and Special series. The most prominent one seems to be Elemental, so it looks like she first awakened her sense of touch.”

As Dorosian observed Aros, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Hm?”

She sensed an unusual energy from Aros’s mana. It felt like a mixture, as if something artificial had been added to her natural mana, like seasoning dissolving in clear water.

There was no doubt that an artificial power, as if created through alchemy, had been infused into her innate mana.

“Oh, I see…”

Dorosian immediately realized what that power was. She had encountered countless challengers who had come prepared like this.

“You drank a mana enhancer, didn’t you?”

Aros’s eyebrows twitched, betraying her discomfort.

“M-me? Do you think I would do such a thing?”

It was obvious to anyone that she had been caught, but Dorosian just smiled slyly and spoke.

“I don’t mind. Go ahead, show me your best.”

Aros quickly began drawing a magic circle.

Dorosian, watching her, had a bored expression.

Her excitement had faded right from the start.

“As expected, she’s a bit below the level of the Tower’s magicians.”

Though she had placed a protective spell on her magic circle, it was terribly sloppy.

At the very least, she should have drawn two circles for backup or encrypted it more thoroughly.

Otherwise, it would be this easy…

Crackle

With just a discharge of mana from her finger, Dorosian created static electricity, disrupting the entire magic circle.

“Huh?”

Aros looked bewildered, clearly not understanding what had happened.

“No way…”

With a nervous face, she hastily redrew the magic circle.

This time, Dorosian decided to do nothing and simply watch.

Whirr!

Wooden tendrils shot out from the magic circle. Aros smiled widely, believing her previous failure had just been a mistake on her part.

Dorosian suppressed a laugh, amused by the delusion she must be having.

Aros, with a furious voice, shouted, “Are you just going to stand there!?”

It seemed she noticed her laughing. As she swung the wooden tendrils at her like whips, Dorosian snapped her fingers.

Snap!

The tendrils stopped abruptly.

Dorosian extended her index finger and spoke.

“Security is a critical element, especially when using life-creation magic. If you neglect it, control can easily be taken from you.”

She wiggled her index finger, and the wooden tendrils changed direction.

Aros’s eyes widened in shock as cold sweat trickled down her face.

“This… this is ridiculous…”

Facing the threat of her own magic turning against her, Aros frantically swung her wand, drawing countless new magic circles in the air.

But Dorosian wasn’t going to let that slide. She matched the number of magic circles with discharges of mana from her fingertip.

Crackle

The magic circles all fizzled out in a burst of static, just like before, turning to dust.

Aros refused to give up, continuing to wave her wand desperately.

But it was already too late.

The wooden tendrils were upon her, casting shadows as they closed in.

“Huh?”

The tendrils wrapped around Aros’s wrists and ankles, stretching her out in a spread-eagle position.

“Aaagh!”

“With that level of skill, isn’t it a waste of mana?”

Dorosian used telekinesis to pull Aros’s wand from her hand and let out a mocking laugh.

“You’re barely above average, so why were you showing off?”

She lazily swung Aros’s wand and continued.

“This is your last chance. Walk over here like a dog and I’ll forgive you.”

Aros flinched but lowered her head. However, a laugh escaped her lips.

“Heh, heh…”

It was because a realization had crossed her mind.

“I see… so that’s what’s going on.”

Breaking and seizing control of a magic circle was theoretically possible, but it required a level of magical understanding that surpassed mere human perception.

Even if the person in front of her was a monster, this phenomenon was still absurd.

‘If I think about it calmly, it’s obvious.’

The magic she had just used was far more complex than a simple Formulation spell.

It was a life-creation spell that had materialized moving wooden tendrils.

On top of that, she had instinctively added security measures.

The only possible conclusion was this:

“All of this is just an illusion spell, isn’t it?”

Aros was now convinced it was all a trick.

“You think I’d believe you dismantled a spell this complex without a wand? That’s ridiculous. It’s like trying to pick a lock with a stick you found on the street.”

And the fact that her opponent was demanding her surrender meant only one thing.

They were trying to end the fight quickly, before their deception was uncovered.

“Still… it’s impressive. I didn’t even realize I was cursed with an illusion spell.”

Aros hastily drew a purification spell with her fingers. This would free her from the illusion in no time.

“Too bad for you. I’m not dumb enough to fall for such a petty trick.”

“Really? So, it’s an illusion, is it?”

Dorosian chuckled and flicked her index finger.

“Then, I’ll start with one arm.”

Before she even finished speaking, one of the wooden tendrils lashed down like a whip, striking Aros’s right arm.

Slash!

Aros’s eyes widened as she felt an agonizing pain, like her flesh was being torn apart.

It was so excruciating that she couldn’t help but scream, pride be damned.

“Aaaagh!”

At that moment, Aros finally realized it.

Dismissing it as an illusion had been a mere mistake.

Dorosian, without even using a wand, had done the unthinkable—seizing her magic.

‘It hurts! To the bone!’

Before the second whip strike could land, Aros frantically looked toward Rockefeller.

‘Quick, I need to surrender!’

Just as she opened her mouth to declare her defeat, her voice suddenly slurred, and she heard a sound next to her.

“Shh.”

Rolling her eyes, she saw Dorosian approaching with a finger pressed to her lips.

Aros tried to ignore it and force her voice out, but her attention was drawn to Dorosian’s hand gestures.

“What?”

She opened and closed her hand in a motion resembling a dog’s muzzle.

Aros gathered her thoughts and tried to speak to Rockefeller. But for some reason, the words that came out were the complete opposite of what she intended.

“Professor… I can keep going.”

‘Why am I saying this?’

Aros glanced down at her rebellious mouth.

“Professor, I can keep going. If I keep trying, I might win. It’s not over yet.”

No matter how hard she tried to surrender, she kept repeating the same words like a parrot.

A sudden, unsettling thought crossed her mind, and she looked back at Dorosian.

Her pupils shrank in terror.

“Gasp!”

Every time Dorosian opened and closed her hand, her mouth moved on its own.

“Professor, I… can still…”

“Oh my, how admirable. Your willpower is impressive. Very well, shall we continue?”

This was undoubtedly the basic curse magic—puppet magic.

A bead of sweat rolled down Aros’s forehead.

It was unheard of for such a basic spell to control someone’s speech like this.

“Now, let’s go for the left arm next. Ready?”

Dorosian prepared to swing the wand again, and Aros’s eyes trembled with fear welling up from deep inside.

In the end, she broke down in tears in front of the onlookers, sobbing.

“P-Professor… I…”

Just as Dorosian was about to slash through the air with her wand, someone intervened.

“That’s enough, Dorosian El Grice.”

“Hm?”

Rockefeller used telekinesis magic to take the wand from Dorosian.

“She said she can keep going, so why stop?”

“You’ve gone too far. Did you think I wouldn’t notice it was puppet magic?”

“Oh dear, I’ve been caught.”

With a wave of Rockefeller’s hand, the tree roots dissipated like a mirage.

Aros was freed, but her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground.

Her mind was filled with one thought: she was lucky to be alive.

Just moments ago, she had been nothing more than a rabbit trapped in a tiger’s cage…

***

From the terrace of the Adele Hall, six people were looking down at the arena.

Kerndel, the 1st seat, shakily put down his telescope.

Recalling the duel between Dorosian and Aros, his eyes began to twitch.

“That’s… That’s an outrageous monster. To think she defeated Aros like that…”

The other members of the Ten Elites were just as shaken. Their faces were pale, and it took some time for the color to return.

Once they regained their composure, Kerndel pointed out the severity of the situation.

“This is bad. You’re all aware, right? Lately, Bernthal and Emeric have been plotting with the first years.”

It was no secret they had been gathering at the Schlaphe Hall.

Their objective was obvious.

What else could it be but to take control of the Ten Elites?

“The only way they can harm us is by stealing our seats. But Aros, the 2nd seat, was utterly destroyed. This will give those guys false hope.”

The new holder of the 2nd seat was Dorosian, and taking it back from her would be nearly impossible.

Moreover, everyone knew there were some promising challengers waiting in the wings.

“There are too many talented first years this time. That’s why Emeric and Bernthal have been focusing on recruiting them.”

If things continued like this, it would only be a matter of time.

Those with potential grow fast, and it wouldn’t be surprising if they stripped the Ten Elites of their power before graduation.

“If we don’t hold onto our positions until graduation, the title of Ten Elites becomes meaningless… If we lose to mere first years, it would be embarrassing to even mention on our records.”

While everyone wore serious expressions, Meldon offered a suggestion.

“Then how about we crush them early?”

“…They’re always hanging around in groups. Too many eyes are on them. And we, the Ten Elites, can’t directly challenge them, either. They’d just refuse, claiming it’s not the right time.”

Meldon stroked his chin, deep in thought.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up as if he’d had a brilliant idea.

“Ah, right! There’s that guy, Riamon, who’s already being compared to Bernthal even though he’s just a first-year. He tends to roam around alone. If we do this right, we could take him out easily. What do you think?”

Kerndel thought it was an excellent idea.

A first-year already on par with Bernthal, even before the second semester had begun.

That meant Riamon was likely the strongest candidate to challenge them.

In other words, he was Bernthal’s secret weapon and a key piece of their strategy.

“That’s perfect. He’d make a great example.”

With a cold glint in his eyes, Kerndel commanded the Ten Elites.

“Make sure that Riamon learns his place. Crush him so thoroughly he won’t even dare look us in the eye.”

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