Magister Insanity

I blinked.

What… just happened?

At one moment, Lancer had been standing at the opposite end of the circle, and the next, he seemed to vanish.

No. That wasn't quite right.

He hadn't disappeared, he had simply moved so fast that it gave off the illusion of vanishing. Still, something was weird. Instead of running forward, it was more as if some invisible force had pulled him straight toward Gundric.

In a fraction of a second, Lancer closed the distance and thrust forward with a devastating blow. Yet, despite the astonishing speed, Gundric reacted perfectly.

Instead of dodging, the golden-haired fighter advanced.

The movement was subtle, but good enough. Gundric sidestepped the thrust at the last possible moment, letting Lancer's momentum carry him slightly past the intended strike. Then, swiftly, Gundric went behind Lancer and grabbed his torso with both arms.

Lancer's eyes widened in horror, realizing his predicament. Before he could regain control, Gundric dragged back and slammed him into the floor.

The echo of impact reverberated through the dojo. Nearby Sleepless gasped, all focusing on the unfolding spectacle.

But Gundric wasn't finished.

Even with his opponent pinned, he swung a fist downward, as though intending to crush Lancer's face. The sheer inevitability of the approaching fist left the spearman frozen, unable to react.

And then, at the last possible moment, Gundric stopped. His fist hovered just above the bridge of Lancer's nose, a hair's breadth away.

Blink! Blink!

Lying on his back, Lancer could only blink rapidly in pure astonishment. The entire encounter had lasted less than two seconds.

'What the hell? He defeated him just like that?!'

Naturally, I was shocked.

Lancer was an Imperial, and his Legacy was Superior. To put that into perspective, most Blasphemers only attained Awakened Legacies. Even among those without a prestigious lineage, an evolved Legacy was rare enough to spark conflict among entire factions.

And the factions themselves were built around singular powerhouses, those who awakened Transcendent or Primeval Legacies.

Though Gundric had already revealed his ties to the Great Imperial House of Snows, there was no way he should have been able to one-shot another Imperial so completely.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen him use a single Legacy Ability. That's right. From start to finish, the golden boy hadn't relied on any special power at all, yet he still managed to defeat a fellow Imperial using nothing but his body.

It was borderline terrifying, truly bone-chilling. Just how devastating must his Legacy Ability be?

"He's insane… How am I supposed to stand a chance against someone like that in the future?"

I swallowed nervously.

Following his humiliating defeat, Lancer strode back to his seat with his head lowered, gritting his teeth. That bastard probably had more pride than sense as an Imperial, and he clearly needed a taste of reality.

Hehe…

So, what happened next could be summed up like this:

Gundric was challenged by several Sleepless, presumably Imperials, but each one of them were defeated just like Lancer. Not a single ability seemed to be in play, at least none that I could see. The differences in skill weren't insignificant: some were stronger, some faster, some nearly clever enough to snatch a win, but none of it mattered. Gundric faced off against these formidable opponents and emerged victorious every time.

Not that I was complaining. I even found myself cheering silently for him from the male's toilet. Even the shadow was excited.

Eventually, the challenges stopped. Why bother fighting if defeat was all but guaranteed? Besides, I doubted any of the challengers enjoyed being humiliated for sport.

Left to his own devices, Gundric appeared almost relieved, though the expression lasted only a moment. With a calm, indifferent air, he approached a nearby weapon stand, picked up a wooden sword, and began to practice.

Training his swordsmanship, it seemed. He truly looked like a knight straight out of one of those fantasy stories.

What an interesting fellow.

'Focus,' I muttered, slapping my cheeks lightly. Now was not the time to get distracted.

Thanks to the training exercises, most of the students displayed their abilities. Some relied solely on weapons, while others unleashed their Legacy Abilities without hesitation. Regardless of the method, it was clear they were eager to prove themselves against their peers.

Am I really watching a bunch of teenagers? Most of them looked about my age or even older. Especially those damn elves…

Ahem. Right, what was I saying? Yes, what I needed to do was focus on observing.

Even from my hidden vantage point, the dojo offered a treasure trove of information. Every flicker of movement, every flicker of aura, every subtle twitch was absorbed by my mind. Within minutes, I had cataloged the abilities of nearly every Sleepless present, mentally separating the truly formidable powers from the ones that were inconsequential.

…Ah, I should mention that not every Legacy Ability was actually useful. Some were downright useless.

For instance, there was a girl who could manipulate light… but only to slightly brighten or dim the area immediately around her. Another boy seemed to have the power to slightly increase the temperature of objects he touched, as if roasting a marshmallow was the pinnacle of his combat potential. Even in a combat hall full of skilled fighters, these abilities were little more than curiosities, impressive in theory but almost entirely irrelevant in actual combat.

By contrast, a few other abilities immediately stood out such as kinetic manipulation, aura amplification, and other abilities that could change the tide of a battle in an instant. Those were the ones worth watching closely.

Which brought me to the two crucial factors I needed to consider before choosing a target.

First, how practical and effective were their abilities in a real combat scenario?

Second, would I even be able to defeat them if it came to a fight?

Of course, there was the question of morality. The idea of killing another person made me uneasy at first, but what choice did I really have? Without feeding my shadow souls, I risked perishing in a complete sense.

My Origin Sea had already been consumed by that insatiable shadow and its hunger was growing with each passing day.

Could I really do it? I didn't want to become a murderer, yet it felt as if my hands were being forced.

Those innocent souls likely had families who cared for them, just as I had a family of my own. I understood the anguish that would follow if one of them were killed by a wretched bastard. But fate had dealt me a cruel hand.

Would I allow another person to suffer misfortune, or let it fall on my own family if I died? No matter which route I chose, misfortune was inevitable. In the end, I made the most selfish choice, the one that ensured my survival.

My heart was already resolved.

I'll survive no matter what, even if I have to become a devil.

Ultimately, after a bit of filtering, three names stood out in my mind: Zephyr, Kael, and Xyler.

These three were among the five who constantly orbited around Lancer. In a way, they could be considered his lackeys. Only these three caught my attention; the other two were easily ignored.

Apparently, they hailed from lesser clans that had long since been absorbed by an Imperial House. Originally recognized as Imperial Clans, these houses had gradually lost their status over time during the eras, and locals now referred to them simply as Lesser Clans.

For instance:

Zephyr came from the Sky Wind Clan.

Kael hailed from the Vermillion Clan.

Xyler belonged to the Blood Blossom Clan.

Their names alone hinted at the Legacies their clans specialized in. The Sky Wind Clan was a lesser house renowned for producing skilled wind manipulators. The Vermillion Clan excelled in cultivating top-tier flame manipulators. And the Blood Blossom Clan was infamous for its mastery of blood manipulation.

However, Kael wasn't an original member of the Vermillion Clan. He hadn't been born into it, nor did he possess their signature crimson hair. Instead, he was one of the fortunate few selected by a clan representative due to the extraordinary uniqueness of his Legacy.

Doppelgänger.

That was the ability Kael possessed: a rare and unpredictable Legacy. He could conjure perfect copies of himself, each capable of independent action. Though the replicas lacked the full strength of the original, they were quick, intelligent, and perfectly suited to sow chaos on the battlefield.

One clone could harass and distract while another struck from a blind angle, turning even the most seasoned fighter into prey. Imagine facing not one opponent, but five doppelgängers, each at Inquisitor rank, each thinking for themselves, while the true Kael sniped you from afar.

Wouldn't that be a nightmare? Especially when people, at their most cunning, were far more terrifying than monsters.

And the horror didn't stop at combat. His Legacy offered unparalleled utility. The clones could scatter to gather information, infiltrate, or even train in different disciplines simultaneously — swordsmanship, archery, sorcery — allowing Kael to accelerate his growth in ways no ordinary Sleepless could hope to match.

The practicality of his Legacy was, in theory, limitless.

Of course, I couldn't ignore the other two Legacies. Wind manipulation was universally applicable as the air was everywhere, always present, making it always exploitable. Blood manipulation, on the other hand, carried a frightening versatility, limited only by the user's imagination.

One way or another, those three stood out as my priority targets. The real dilemma was execution. How was I going to approach this? And more importantly, who should I target first?

Knock! Knock!

I froze.

Crap. I'd been hiding in here so long, someone must've noticed.

"Oi, you've been in there forever," a muffled voice called. "Are you… uh… reading a whole book in there or what?"

My face twitched. Technically, I was reading, just not in the way they thought.

"Give me a sec!" I shouted back, forcing my tone to sound casual.

"A sec? You said that ten minutes ago! We're not trying to train our bladders here, you know!"

I sighed.

Of all places for my grand strategic scheming, why did it have to be in a bathroom stall?