NOVEL NEXT Chapter 70: Practical Combat
"Practical Combat" class took place in a separate building, a cross between a football field and a gladiator pit—flat, open, and ringed by wards etched into silver stone. Zeke tapped the ground with his feet and it gave slightly, unnaturally springy, like those high school tracks designed to keep athletes from shattering their legs. A thin mist shimmered along the edges, making sure stray spells won't leaping beyond the field.
"Alright class," a male professor garnered the students attention with a clap. He looked like a typical mage; shoulder-length messy black hair, long robes, tired eyes from sleepless research. He leaned against an old, wooden staff like he couldn't be bothered to stand straight. "Today we have some guests visiting today. I'm sure you'll recognize them the moment you see them."
Right on queue, a dramatic flash of light heralded their arrival. Solren Pryce, the Grand Magician, gave the shocked students a graceful bow like a showsman thanking his audience. "Hello!" He looked up and beamed, "I'm just here to supervise this guy, so pretend we're not here and do your thing!"
By 'this guy', Solren meant Creston Salvador, the Royal Knights Commander. He sent an annoyed glare towards the mage, but otherwise kept his silence. Briefly, Zeke met the marquis' eyes, and he swore a blizzard swept by from how cold the man looked.
It was the type of gaze a stern father would give his child as he handed him his school grades—heavy with expectations.
"…Did I provoke him a little too much? All I did was smile though…"
Zeke had no idea how much he looked like a smug delinquent when he smiled.
"Well, either way I plan on wiping the floor with everyone. Might as well do it with an audience."
< Skill Description >
Name: Lightning Magic
Type: Domain Skill
Tier: A
Effects
Grants the ability to learn <Magic> with the <Lightning> element.
All future <Lightning> element skills will be classified as a <Sub-Skill> under the Domain Skill <Lightning Magic>
Sub-Skills
Fulmen Varius [A]
<<>>
< Sub-Skill Description >
Name: Fulmen Varius
Type: Active Sub-Skill.
Tier: A
Cost: 10-100 MP
Cooldown: 1-60 seconds.
Effects
Creates a bolt of lightning with varying precision, depending on the mana cost, incantation, and word imagery.
Attacks has a base 10% chance to inflict <Stun>
The Status Condition <Stun> can change into <Paralysis> when the user changes the skill's properties. Infliction chances can change as well.
<<>>
"As the Grand Mage said, we can continue our lesson normally as if they're not here." The professor's voice cut through the confused, panicked murmurs of the students, "Now, I'd like everyone to get into pairs. I'll give you two minutes."
Although they still looked nervous, the students began finding themselves a partner. Zeke looked around, trying to pick off anyone who seemed just as lost and lonely as he was, but to no avail. By the time everyone settled with their pairs, Zeke stood alone in the middle with no one left for him to pair with.
"Ah, Mister Salvador," The professor beckoned with a finger, expression still dead, "The class has an odd number of students anyway. I'll be your sparring partner for this class."
Zeke walked over, glancing at Solren. The Grand Mage gave him two thumbs up, lips widened like an excited child who got to watch his favorite show. Zeke let out a short sigh. "I can't help but think he planned this."
"Now," The professor gestured around the field, "We have plenty of time, so I'll have each pair fight. You have five minutes, if none of you falls or forfeits, I'll count it as a draw. Anyone want to go first?"
"Professor Peron, how about you give us a demonstration?" A male student raised his hand, staring Zeke down with a smug grin. Great, it's this type of character. "Silas Salvador's the apprentice of the Grand Magician, I'm sure a fight between you and him could teach us a lot."
While his friends sneered and chuckled, Professor Peron put a hand to his chin, eyes wandering in deep consideration. "You have a point…Very well" he glanced at Zeke, "Does Mister Salvador agree to the match?"
A beat of silence passed, and Zeke's lips broke into a smug grin. "Sure. Is there any other rule I should know about?"
"He isn't allowed to use spells above intermediate level!" Solren shouted from across the field, acting giddy like a child snitching on a friend.
"Huh?" Zeke reared his head back, eyes widened in confusion, "I thought I just wasn't allowed to make a spell above intermediate level. Why can't I use one?"
"I'm putting that temporary ban on you just for this match," Solren huffed up his chest, "Unless you'd rather do 200 pages of thesis on Grade 4 Spell Theory?"
Zeke's lips fell agape. He turned to his father, eyes pleading: Dad, stop your crazy friend, but the marquis slowly turned away with a straight face, silent.
"Fuck. I'm gonna kill that damn white lizard someday."
"I can feel you cursing me in your head from all the way over here." Solren laughed.
Zeke took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay, fine, whatever."
Professor Peron pointed to an empty spot with his staff, "If you're done, shall we?"
"Yes sir." Zeke nodded and they moved into position. He had his back facing the two special guests, a position he had no choice but to take since the professor took his place before he could.
Zeke swallowed down a nervous lump, bringing up his skills window in the corner of his vision. With the restrictions imposed by Solren, he wouldn't be able to use any skills A tier or above.
"…Looking at it now, I don't actually have that many A tier spells…I guess losing Gravity and Fulmen Varius is kind of annoying."
"Are you ready?" Professor Peron's voice snapped Zeke out of his thoughts.
"Yes," Zeke eyed the staff in the professor's hand, "Although…is it fair that you're using a weapon?"
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
"Then take out yours," Peron pointed his staff at Zeke, getting into a battle-ready stance. Sparks of mana slithered around his poise. "I know you can use Magic Subspace, Solren already told me."
Zeke glanced behind him, face deadpanned as he took out his Witch's Codex from the inventory. "How much has the guy been yapping about me?"
"I'll let you have the first move," Peron's mana grew wilder. Excited despite the stoic look on the mage's face.
Zeke gave a short nod. "I'll test the waters first," with that thought, several Magic Missles shot forward, aimed at different weak points.
Peron raised his staff, conjuring up a Mana Shield to block the attacks. As the attacks struck, dust covered Peron's vision—long enough for a Mana Blast to catch him off guard. The beam pushed him back several meters, but the shield remained steadfast.
"Interesting," Peron waved his staff, dismantling the protection spell as the Mana Blast dissipated. His voice bordered amazement and boredom—he would've sounded sarcastic if they didn't know any better, "I've only heard from rumors, but seeing a second year cast chantless is truly amazing."
"…Thank you for the compliment?" Zeke feinted a smile, unsure of the correct response.
"No problem," Without warning, a shadow loomed over Peron's face, the shift from nonchalance to stern focus sent a chill down Zeke's spine. Embers of mana flickered from his form like unruly beasts begging to be released. "Now, it's my turn."
A spear of lightning bursted from the staff's tip. Zeke reacted on instinct, blocking with his own Mana Shield—the attack sizzled away, but left webbed cracks on the spell's smooth surface. Murmurs erupted from the young onlookers like static ionizing the air.
"Did the professor just use chantless against a student?"
"I mean, Salvador did also use chantless, so it's only fair?"
"I think it's more impressive that he blocked it. Professor Peron is known for his lightning spells."
"Yeah, that guy defended against the Herald of Storms."
But the chatter soon died down as Zeke cast another spell—No, it was the abrupt cold that drew their attention. A frigid mist spreaded out across the field, drawing a curious frown from Peron.
<Frost Grasp>
"!!!" The professor had no room to speak. He raised his staff and his Mana Shield collided against steel. Zeke clicked his tongue in frustration and leaped back, his sword dropping by his side.
In the distance, Solren bursted out laughing, and Creston had no reaction as per usual, like he expected this much from his son.
"You…used a sword?" Peron blinked, pure disbelief etched in his voice, "How did you manage to move so quickly? Was that a spatial travel spell?"
"I thought it was a good attempt," Zeke put the sword back into his inventory, "And no, it wasn't anything like that, I just increased my speed with wind magic."
<Zephyr's Blessing>
A blanket of silence fell across the field, soon broken by the students' wild whispers. Some were frustrated that a mage used a sword in a battle of magic, but most were in awe at how a support spell was casted chantless.
"I guess from their view, it is impressive," Zeke's eyes remained fixed to his opponent, "In this world, support spells are harder to cast than offensive spells."
Peron sucked in a deep breath, exhaled, and grinned—a wide, amused grin that only made him look more like a shady scammer than a teacher. "Oh, I guess I underestimated you a little too much, Silas Salvador. I must apologize," he adjusted his stance, standing more upright, expression serious yet laced with the craziness of his grin. "I'll be taking you seriously now."
Zeke stared at the sparks of magic bouncing off the professor's body and thought, "Eh? You don't have to though. Really, I'm good bro."
A golden magic circle flickered at the staff's tip. In a blank, lightning compressed into a pinpoint and blasted forward.
Zeke weaved to the side, the Zephyr's Blessing left a green afterimage where he once stood. The spear of lightning struck the ground, leaving behind a charred crater at the point of impact, smoke sizzling up from the middle.
Peron raised his staff again, firing bullets of electricity before Zeke could land properly.
'BOOM!'
Silence fell like thunder after lightning, as if the entire ground was holding its breath. Some students whispered: Is it over?
The smoke parted away like a curtain, and the silence stretched. Widened eyes stared in disbelief at the spot where Zeke used to stand.
He disappeared.
By the time Peron realized what had happened, he chuckled, closing his eyes as his shoulders fell slack. "All that talk for nothing. I admit defeat."
To the unkeen eyes, the professor's forfeit might seem strange, but few noticed the thin lines shimmering beneath the sunlight weaved around him—one wrong step and his neck could go flying.
"…What are those?"
"Looks like mana threads to me."
"When did he even set those up?"
<Web Weaver>
Zeke had reappeared behind Peron, using smoke from the spell's impact to conceal his movements. At the professor's words, he put the Witch's Codex back into his inventory. "…I'm sure you could've escaped."
"In a spar? Yes," Peron faced him as the deadly strings vanished, "But if it'd been a real fight…You'd placed those webs a little closer to my limbs, no?"
Before Zeke could respond, Solren teleported on top of him, scooping him up into a bear hug. He screeched like a broken fire alarm as he spun around. "MY APPRENTICE! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!!!"
The shock and confusion only lasted a second before embarrassment settled in. Zeke thrashed against Solren's grip, "Oi! Stop it and put me down!" But to no avail.
Solren ignored him and faced Peron, "I'm taking this guy with me. Any objections?"
Zeke frowned, "Huh? Wait, I don't want to—"
"Sure, go ahead." Peron cut him off and waved in nonchalance as if Solren had asked to borrow a pen.
"Great!" Solren teleported out while Zeke stared at Professor Peron with a look of betrayal.
When they reappeared, Solren held Zeke by the back of his collar as he settled him to the ground. "I got you out of class, you should thank me!" He gave a wide, proud grin.
"…I didn't want to skip in the first place." Zeke straightened his coat, shooting the Grand Mage an annoyed glare.
"Actually, I took you out of there because we have something to ask." Solren glanced at Creston, who'd stood with his arms crossed in silence the whole time. He merely acknowledged their presence with a nod.
"Something to ask?" Zeke raised an eyebrow, "Can't you wait? Is it really that urgent?"
"Yes it is!"
"No it's not."
Zeke held in the urge to sigh as Creston and Solren stared at each other. Whatever silent conversation they had in that split second must've ended in the former's resignation, since Solren soon spoke up. "Anyway, Silas. Would you like to succeed me as the Grand Magician?"
"…And why would I do that?" Zeke blinked, and he swore he saw a smile on Creston's face for a moment before Solren's baffled gasp stole his attention.
"What do you mean why? You're my apprentice! Isn't it a given that you should become the next master of the Magic Tower?"
"But it's not like you're going to die soon…"
"It's not about me dying or not dying!" Solren threw his hands in the air, "So? Do you want to do it or not!? I'll appoint you as my successor right here and now if you say the word!"
Zeke blinked, "No, I don't want to."
Solren gave an exaggerated groan, burying his face in his palms. Creston uncaringly pushed his friend aside and faced Zeke, expression calm, but anticipation flickered behind his eyes. "You made the right choice. You should stay at our house, I'll appoint you as commander of the Salvador knights when Lysander succeeds me."
"Uh…" Zeke looked between the two. One was his teacher, the other his father. He swallowed hard, uncertainty creeping to his thoughts. "Can we…leave this conversation up for later? I still have a few years until I graduate anyway…I'd like to explore more options."
Solren and Creston exchanged glances.
"…Alright," the marquis sighed with a short nod, "You still have more paths to explore in life, I'll respect your choices."
Solren pouted, "Are you sure? There aren't many jobs better than being the tower master. You get support money from the empire even if you're just breathing."
Creston deadpanned at him, "Those money's supposed to go into the development of technomagic."
"They are," Solren shrugged, "I just took the leftovers—"
His mouth snapped shut the moment he felt the frigid glare from his friend. Solren let out a nervous chuckle, turning towards Zeke. "Well, that's pretty much all we're here for. Good job on the spar by the way."
And with that, he vanished, leaving behind only the residue of mana like melting snowflakes. Zeke shifted his attention back to Creston as he let out a long sigh. "That rascal…I hope he isn't teaching you anything weird."
"So far, he hadn't really taught me anything," Zeke's lips pressed to a line, "He gave me a few weeks to adjust to the academy first."
Silence fell between them like a wet blanket. Zeke snuck in several glances, but Creston simply stood, quiet, eyes fixed on him in deep thought. Eventually, the marquis spoke. "…I'm not sure how Solren didn't notice, but in that fight earlier…you did something odd."
Zeke flinched, "…I did?"
Creston narrowed his eyes, studying him. "It was hard to see because of the smoke, but I'm sure you turned into a cat."
"Why are his eyes unnecessarily sharp?" Zeke kept his breath steady. "I panicked and used Polymorph instead of Mana Shield…I didn't think anyone could see me."
"It's impressive," Creston nodded in approval, "Even Solren struggled to learn Polymorph. You don't need to hide what you're good at, Silas."
He looked away, lips twitching, "…Thank you?" Zeke wasn't quite sure of what to say either, though he'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice receiving recognition, especially from someone as strict as Creston Salvador.
"Will you be returning home this weekend?" Creston inquired with a slight tilt of his head.
"I don't know yet…" Zeke responded with a sheepish look, "But maybe I will, since I don't think I'll have anything else to do."
Creston nodded, "Rowena talked about going camping for the weekend. I happened to overheard her whine to her mother about you. She wanted you to accompany her."
Zeke blinked. Camping? It sounded rather out of the blue, but going out with his family didn't sound too bad either. "It hasn't been long since the kidnapping incident. Maybe she just needed a break."
"Okay, I'll make sure to be there."