Chapter 2: The Magic Tournament Begins

At dawn, as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the mountain ridge, they began to lift the veil of twilight.

Amid the morning mist, a carriage traveled south along the highway connecting the northern Iteria region and the southern Yorkshire region of the empire. Pulled by four majestic and sturdy horses, the carriage was adorned with intricate gold and silver reliefs at key points, exuding an air of opulence befitting a noble’s exclusive use.

As if to confirm this, the carriage bore the emblem of a hawk with spread wings—the crest of the imperial royal family. The Royal Horsecart. A prestigious carriage permitted only for those connected to the royal family.

Surrounding it on all sides were guards mounted on warhorses. They wore scarlet surcoats embroidered with shield and wing patterns, with rapiers at their waists. This was the attire of the Royal Guard, the elite unit of the imperial army tasked primarily with protecting the royal family’s dignitaries.

The Royal Guard consisted of the empire’s finest, trained in advanced swordsmanship and a range of military magic. Thus, every guard in the unit carried a sense of pride as chosen warriors and a deep sense of duty as protectors of the revered royal family, brimming with sharp, commanding vigor.

At the position closest to the carriage’s door stood a warrior whose presence and piercing gaze set him apart from the other guards. His black hair, slightly streaked with white, a beard, sharp eyes, and old scars crisscrossing his skin marked him as a seasoned veteran of countless battles.

Zelos, the commander of the Royal Guard. Though he was approaching old age, the warrior spirit forged through surviving the Divine Reverence War forty years ago showed not the slightest hint of fading.

Suddenly, a metallic chime, like the ringing of bells, echoed around them. Hearing it, Zelos reached into his waist pouch, pulled out a halved gemstone, and held it to his ear.

“Report.”

Zelos spoke in a voice heavy with authority and gravitas.

“Yes, sir! The fifth and sixth squads are advancing approximately one kilometer ahead of the main group, currently patrolling the surrounding area. At this time, there are no signs of bandits or magical beasts.”

The gemstone relayed a status report from the advance team.

“Good work. But stay vigilant. Though the main highways are regularly maintained by the military, and it’s now an era where common folk can travel without escorts, never forget that the one we accompany today is Her Majesty the Queen. Fulfill your duties and loyalty without fail.”

“Yes, sir!”

After ending the communication and returning the gemstone to his pouch, Zelos resumed scanning the surroundings with unwavering alertness.

If any suspicious figure approached, he would cut them down. If necessary, he would use his own body as a shield.

Such was his cool yet resolute, unyielding determination.

With Zelos and the Royal Guard standing watch, no harm could possibly befall the dignitary inside the carriage—not in a million years. Their imposing presence naturally instilled such confidence in onlookers.

From within the carriage, through the lace curtains, that woman—Queen Alicia VII of the Alzano Empire—gazed at the valiant figures of her loyal guards.

Alicia was a refined lady with long, lustrous golden hair styled in an updo and gentle eyes. She possessed an innate nobility and grace that instinctively made those around her stand taller, yet her calm demeanor never intimidated others unnecessarily. Despite being in her late thirties, her beauty, once hailed as the White Lily of Alzano, showed no signs of fading; if anything, it had only grown more refined. Today, Alicia wore a simple black-and-beige dress for travel rather than the ornate Royal Dress—symbolizing the authority of the royal family and her formal attire as queen. Yet, even so, her innate dignity and elegance could not be concealed.

“We’ll soon arrive in Fejite, won’t we, Your Majesty?”

A woman in her mid-twenties, seated beside Alicia, spoke up. Dressed in a maid’s uniform with a headdress, apron, and garter belt, she had black hair and dark eyes.

Her name was Eleanor, the head maid who attended to Queen Alicia’s personal needs, served as a secretary assisting with political affairs, and even doubled as a bodyguard—a truly talented woman. Having graduated at the top of her class from the Alzano Imperial University’s Faculty of Political Science and Economics, and renowned for her exceptional skills in swordsmanship and magic, Eleanor was handpicked to serve as the queen’s aide. Now holding the rank of fourth-class nobility, she supported the queen in both public and private matters.

“Yes, you’re right, Eleanor. It’s been a while since I last visited that academy.”

Alicia smiled radiantly, shifting her gaze out the window toward the carriage’s destination. Beyond the endless pastures, the faintly visible city walls of Fejite came into view along the gently curving road to the left—and, as if symbolizing their destination, the majestic phantom castle floated in the sky.

“But if that accursed organization hadn’t destroyed the academy’s teleportation array, Your Majesty wouldn’t have had to endure such hardship…”

The teleportation array was a magical facility that supported ultra-advanced ritual magic, enabling instantaneous travel between distant locations. Due to the specific spiritual ley lines required for its construction, it couldn’t be built just anywhere. Moreover, its establishment demanded vast amounts of money and time, and only those skilled in mana manipulation—magicians—could use it, which was a significant drawback.

Even so, in a world reliant on stagecoaches, foot travel, or ships for intercity movement, it was an incredibly convenient tool. While the government was currently developing railway trains powered by the newly invented steam engine, their practical implementation was still far off and not a replacement for teleportation arrays.

The Alzano Imperial Magic Academy once had a teleportation array connecting the capital, Orlando, to the academy. However, it was destroyed during a terrorist attack on the academy a month ago and had yet to be restored. Thus, the queen had no choice but to travel from the capital to Fejite by carriage, a journey that took several days.

“It’s fine, really.”

In response to Eleanor’s words filled with concern, Alicia playfully placed her index finger to her lips and winked. Despite her age, the gesture suited her oddly well, carrying a hint of a young girl’s charm.

“Leaving the imperial palace in the capital, stepping away from politics, and seeing the outside world like this is enjoyable. Besides, it’s nice to occasionally escape those nagging old men and stretch my wings.”

“Ha… Your Majesty… If Lord Edward heard that, he’d cry again.”

In public, Alicia was known across nations as a solemn, dignified, and flawless figure, radiating authority and grandeur. But Eleanor was one of the few who knew that, in private, her liege was a surprisingly playful and childlike person.

“By the way, you seem in high spirits, Your Majesty.”

“Hehe, can you tell?”

Alicia gazed out the window toward the carriage’s destination with a distant look.

“I might… get to see my daughter after three years.”

“Princess Ermiana… isn’t it?”

But Eleanor, with a hint of apology, gently cautioned Alicia’s hopeful words.

“Your Majesty, I understand your feelings, but…”

“I know. I intend to avoid unnecessary contact. If I can just… see her healthy figure from afar, even for a moment, that will be enough.”

But… if it were possible— Alicia murmured words that didn’t reach her voice, clutching the locket pendant hanging at her chest. The oval-shaped brass pendant was far too plain for someone of the prestigious royal family to wear.

When Alicia opened the locket’s lid, inside was a monochrome portrait captured by a projection device. It showed Alicia flanked by two young girls who bore her resemblance, standing closely together. One of those girls was the one she had banished with her own hands three years ago.

“Your Majesty, what is that?”

“It’s no good… I can’t bring myself to throw it away. I’m the queen who must lead this nation, yet I forced that child to abandon everything. I’m… a failure as a queen.”

Alicia said with a self-deprecating tone.

“That’s not true. Your Majesty has skillfully governed the empire’s government — a den of scheming factions. Without you, this country wouldn’t stand. And… you’re not only the Queen of the Alzano Empire but also a mother.”

“…But that child must surely hate me.”

With a small sigh, Alicia closed the locket’s lid.

Seeing Alicia’s demeanor, Eleanor spoke with a serious expression.

“Forgive my impertinence, but may I offer a suggestion, Your Majesty?”

“What is it?”

“That locket pendant… if, by some chance, it were seen, it could cause issues. I recommend leaving it behind when we arrive in Fejite.”

“You’re right. The world is a complicated place, isn’t it… But what should I do? I’ll need some other accessory to replace it… Eleanor?”

“Yes, understood. I’ll find something that matches your outfit.”

Eleanor pulled a jewelry box from under the seat and began rummaging through it.

After a while, Eleanor retrieved a necklace from the box.

It was a gold-crafted piece set with an emerald gem.

“Hehe, Your Majesty. How about this?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful. But I’ve never seen it before. Where did it come from?”

“It’s a truly fine piece, perfect for Your Majesty. I acquired it recently from a jeweler I know. I’m sure it will complement your current attire wonderfully.”

—A dream.

For Rumia, it was a dream she had seen countless times.

So, Oh, that dream again… Rumia vaguely thought in her hazy consciousness.

“Hic… ugh… Mother… Mother…”

In a pitch-black darkness, as if painted over with no trace of light, a younger version of herself was crying.

“No… don’t abandon me… I’ll be good… I’ll be a good girl… I won’t be selfish anymore… Please don’t hate me…”

To the young me, my mother was my entire world. So, when she abandoned me, it felt like the entire world had rejected me, like I was an unwanted child.

Still, I cautiously looked around, as if searching for the mother who had coldly cast me out, or for someone, anyone, who might be my ally.

But instead, what met my eyes was—

“Eek—!?”

Corpses. Blood-soaked corpses littered the ground around me. These were the bodies of the wicked magicians who had kidnapped me after I, resentful of being abandoned by my mother, lashed out daily at the people in the household that took me in.

Surely, my mother, who had come to hate me, sent them to kill me for remaining a bad child even after being abandoned. I didn’t know why those magicians were dead, but… the sight was as if the world itself was declaring that no one would ever be my ally, as if it foreshadowed my future.

“Ah, ah, ahhh—!?”

Terrifying. So terrifying. My emotions were pushed beyond their limits.

The sorrow of being abandoned, the terror of being kidnapped, the revulsion of blood and corpses.

Back then, I was at my breaking point in every way.

“No more! I hate this!”

Clutching my head, I wailed.

“Why!? Why is it always me who has to suffer like this!?”

Alone in the darkness, I was screaming when—

“…Stop crying. Be quiet.”

A chilling, dark, low, and cold voice came from behind.

Reflexively, I turned my head to look, and there stood a man with black hair, dark eyes, and a black cloak, his entire figure clad in black, staring down at me with cold, dim eyes.

“—Eek!?”

I thought my heart would stop. My mind, which had refused to comprehend until now, instantly grasped the situation.

Yes, this man was the one who killed those wicked magicians.

When he pulled out a strange piece of paper, for some reason, the magicians couldn’t use their terrifying magic anymore… and then, he unilaterally shot them dead with a horrifying weapon called a “gun.” Even as they begged for their lives, he showed not a shred of mercy.

And—surely, I was next.

“No, nooo! Please, help! Someone, anyone, help!”

“Ugh, damn it!? S-stop crying! I’m your ally! Your ally!”

“Liar! There’s no way anyone would be my ally! No one in this world is on my side! Even my mother—my mother abandoned me—mmph!?”

He swiftly pinned me to the floor and covered my mouth with his hand.

In that instant, my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from terror. A chilling dread, like an icy blade carving into my spine, surged through me with pain. Amid a storm of madness, like a small boat tossed by a tempest, my thoughts gradually clouded into a blank haze. I thrashed desperately, but my limbs were completely restrained, and I could do nothing.

I was going to be killed. I was finally going to die. I didn’t want to die. Someone, please help.

No. I didn’t want to die alone in a place like this. No, no, no—

—But.

“I am your ally.”

Those words, spoken slowly, deliberately, as if to make me understand.

That earnest, desperate gaze, pleading with me.

My frenzy began to fall back, slowly, like a receding tide.

“…! …!”

Even so, the fear didn’t vanish. My heart still pounded as if it might burst. Tears streamed down my face. After all, this man had just killed people in front of me without a trace of emotion. I was terrified of him. Utterly, unbearably terrified. So scared I thought I might die.

Yet, that man looked at me, trembling with fear, and for just a moment, his eyes flickered with sadness before he spoke.

“Please. There are still enemies outside. If you keep this up, we won’t make it through.”

“…!”

“I don’t care if you’re scared of me or hate me. But if you can stop crying—…”

….

“Rumia? Come on, it’s time to get up…”

“…Mnya?”

Shaken gently, Rumia’s consciousness drifted back from the dream to the real world.

“Huh? …Um…”

As Rumia groggily opened her eyes, she found herself in the familiar room at the Fibel residence, which she shared with Sistine. The room was adorned with a luxurious carpet patterned with floral designs, wall-mounted candelabras, and polished oak furniture—a modest number of furnishings, but all of high quality.

She was dressed in a long, flowing negligee, clutching soft feather bedding, sprawled on the bed.

By her bedside stood Sistine. Today, in addition to her usual academy uniform, Sistine wore a leather sword belt around her slender waist, with a rapier featuring a gracefully curved swept hilt—a traditional duelist’s attire for magicians, likely because today was the Magic Tournament.

Glancing at the spring-driven wall clock, it was just past seven in the morning. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, and a refreshing breeze swayed the curtains. It promised to be fine weather today.

“…You’re up early, Sistie.”

“Well, I had things to do… But more importantly, it’s the Magic Tournament today, and with Father and Mother away for work, you need to get up.”

“Yeah, you’re right…”

With a small yawn, Rumia sat up.

“I’ll wait downstairs. …No going back to sleep, okay?”

“…I won’t.”

“You say that, but you’ve gone back to sleep three times before.”

“Haha, have I?”

Exchanging wry smiles, Sistine left the room, and Rumia slowly climbed out of bed. The soft pile of the carpet tickled the soles of her feet.

“It’s been a while since I had that dream…”

Still a bit groggy, Rumia reflected on the dream’s contents.

It was from about three years ago, when her life as Ermiana was completely upended, forcing her to live as Rumia and be taken in by the Fibel family.

Back then, burdened by the guilt of being abandoned by her mother, she couldn’t trust anything or anyone, believing she was utterly alone, the most unfortunate child in the world, and acting out in her despair.

Mistaken for Sistine, Rumia was kidnapped—and that’s when she met Glenn.

“Why am I dreaming about that time again now…?”

She thought she had moved past it all.

In a way, what her mother did wasn’t entirely bad for Rumia. It led to her becoming friends with Sistine and, above all, meeting Glenn, who saved her. The fact that Glenn had completely forgotten their first encounter was a tiny bit frustrating, but even so, Rumia was living more positively now than she had back then. Unlike her carefree days as Ermiana, she had found new goals in life.

She thought she had truly moved on.

“…Or maybe I just want to believe I’ve moved on?”

Somehow, she had a hunch about why she was having this dream again.

Today, that person—the one who abandoned her—would be at the academy. The trigger for the events in her dream, the root of it all, was coming to the academy today. Apparently, that fact was causing her more emotional strain than she had realized.

“…”

Rumia picked up an oval brass locket from the small round table beside her bed and opened its lid. It was empty. Or rather, it was more accurate to say that something had once been inside, but all that remained were traces where it had been torn out.

For a while, Rumia stared at it in silence, then shook her head lightly, as if shaking off something, and closed the lid.

She took the chain attached to the locket, looped it around her neck, and fastened the clasp.

“Alright, let’s do our best today.”

With a small burst of determination, Rumia began walking toward the closet where her clothes were stored.

The moment to welcome Her Majesty the Queen was drawing near.

The front gate of the Magic Academy was bustling with academy staff preparing to receive the queen’s procession. A path of people stretched from the gate to the main building’s guest entrance. The Royal Guard, who had arrived earlier, kept watch over the surroundings, managing the throng of students.

Now, everyone gathered there waited with tense expressions, eagerly anticipating the queen’s arrival.

“So… is Her Majesty really coming today?”

In one corner of the crowd, despite the tense atmosphere, Glenn alone muttered something foolishly nonchalant, true to his usual demeanor.

“What are you saying now, you idiot!?”

Sistine, standing to Glenn’s left, scolded him in exasperation.

“Haha, she should definitely be coming, right? Her Majesty values these occasions. She often tours various regions to observe the people’s conditions.”

Rumia, standing to Glenn’s right, could only offer a wry smile.

“No, but, like, it’s super far from the capital to here, isn’t it? With the teleportation array out of commission… If I were the queen, I’d totally skip it because it’s too much hassle.”

“Don’t compare Her Majesty to a lazy bum like you! That’s disrespectful!”

With a light smack, Sistine hit Glenn’s back.

Though it wasn’t a hard hit, Glenn staggered.

“…Sensei!?”

Rumia quickly rushed to Glenn’s side, slipping her arm under his to support him.

“Whoa… Sorry. Man, I just wish she’d hurry up and get here… I’m already at my limit just standing here… My stomach…”

At that moment—

“Her Majesty the Queen has arrived! Her Majesty has arrived!”

A guard on horseback galloped down the center of the human path, shouting.

In response, the waiting band began playing a welcoming parade march, and the students erupted into loud cheers and thunderous applause.

The area was dominated by a deafening roar. Soon, the luxurious carriage, surrounded by the Royal Guard, proceeded majestically through the path formed by the crowd. When Queen Alicia VII leaned out the window, waving to the students in response to their cheers and applause, the volume of the crowd’s enthusiasm surged even higher.

Amid such a lively scene—

Rumia stood as if alone in a silent, alien world, gazing at the spectacle with distant eyes. The cheers praising the queen and the whirlwind of applause seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Unconsciously, her hand found the locket around her neck and opened it.

Inside—as expected—there was nothing.

“What’s wrong, Rumia?”

Noticing her friend’s demeanor, Sistine called out to Rumia with concern.

“That… a locket? It looks like there’s nothing inside, though?”

Caught off guard as Sistine peered at her hand, Rumia hurriedly closed the locket and shook her head.

“Haha, it’s nothing, nothing at all!”

Then, as if to cover it up, she turned her gaze toward the welcoming parade.

“By the way, Queen Alicia is as popular as ever, isn’t she? And she’s so beautiful… I kind of admire her…”

Sistine was convinced by Rumia’s unnatural behavior.

“Rumia… You really…”

Rumia Tingel wasn’t her real name. Her true name was Ermiana El Kel Alzano, a legitimate heir of the imperial royal family, second in line to the throne—a princess of the Alzano Empire.

Rumia was a dignitary who, under normal circumstances, would never be in a place like this. However, three years ago, it was discovered that she was a congenital anomaly known as a Sympathetic Amplifier. Due to various political reasons, she was officially declared dead from illness, and her existence was erased.

The circumstances behind this were incredibly complex.

The founder of the Alzano imperial royal family was tied to the lineage of the neighboring Rezalia Kingdom’s royal family. As a result, the Alzano Empire and Rezalia Kingdom had always been at odds over the legitimacy of their governance and international prestige. Furthermore, the Imperial National Church, which guaranteed the legitimacy of the imperial royal family’s rule, was branded heretical by the St. Elizares Church’s Papal Office, which effectively controlled the Rezalia Kingdom, making relations between the two churches extremely poor.

In such a context, it nearly came to light that an anomaly—still widely believed to be the reincarnation of a demon—had been born from the imperial royal bloodline.

If Ermiana’s existence had been exposed, domestic chaos would have been inevitable, the imperial royal family’s prestige—believed to be descended from gods—would have plummeted, and if the Rezalia Kingdom or the St. Elizares Church’s Papal Office, always seeking to annex the empire, learned of it, it could have sparked the Second Divine Reverence War.

The Alzano Empire, for better or worse, was a nation held together by the absolute prestige of its sacred royal family. Ermiana’s existence was a deadly poison that could shake the empire to its core.

Thus, Princess Ermiana was officially declared dead from illness, and it was decided she would be quietly disposed of. It was a painful decision by the queen and the imperial government, who bore the responsibility of leading the nation and protecting its people.

Through various schemes and machinations, Princess Ermiana—Rumia—was now here, by Sistine’s side.

Until recently, Sistine had no inkling of Rumia’s dramatic background. She thought of her as an orphan her parents had taken in from somewhere. But after the incident a month ago, as one of the key contributors to its resolution and one of the people closest to Rumia, Sistine was secretly informed of Rumia’s true identity by the upper echelons of the imperial government. She was asked to become a civilian collaborator, keeping Rumia’s secret while knowing the full truth.

And because she knew Rumia’s background, Sistine could easily imagine her friend’s current state of mind.

“Hey, Rumia… Are you okay?”

Sistine leaned closer to Rumia, whispering so no one else could hear.

“Hm? What do you mean, Sistie?”

Rumia responded in an equally hushed tone, her demeanor as usual.

“Um… You know, your real mother is… well…”

With unknown ears potentially listening, Sistine couldn’t speak definitively in public and kept her words vague. But, as expected of friends as close as sisters, Rumia quickly understood what Sistine was trying to say.

“Thanks for worrying about me, Sistie. But, yeah, I’m fine. After all, my real parents are your father and mother.”

“…I see.”

With a complicated expression, Sistine gazes at her best friend’s profile.

“Then, Rumia… you really don’t have any lingering attachments to… your real mother?”

“Yeah… because I’m happy, you know? With Sistie, Father, Mother, and everyone else—such wonderful people…”

Clutching the locket tightly, Rumia smiles faintly.

“Rumia…”

Overwhelmed with an unbearable feeling, Sistine is at a loss for words. If Rumia herself says she’s happy, Sistine has nothing to say.

Glenn silently watches their exchange.

Not because he’s reading the mood. It’s just that talking would make his empty stomach rumble.

The Magic Tournament is held annually at the Magic Arena, located in the northeastern part of the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy’s grounds.

The arena is structured like a circular stone coliseum. At its center lies a grassy competition field. The three-tiered spectator stands rise higher toward the outside, resembling a deep dish when viewed from above.

This arena is also a magically engineered structure. With a single control spell from the management room, the field can transform into a pool filled with water, a forest of towering trees, a sea of flames, or a stone stage—adaptable to any condition or event.

And now, the spectator stands are overflowing with people, buzzing with excitement.

The stands aren’t filled solely with academy students. Parents, alumni, and other academy affiliates have gathered in droves. At the balcony-style VIP seats, positioned at the highest and most scenic spot, even the figure of Her Majesty the Queen can be seen.

In a country where using magic in public is legally prohibited, a competition of magical prowess—whether participating or spectating—is an unparalleled entertainment for mages. Thus, this year, too, a massive crowd had gathered from within and beyond the academy, creating a lively atmosphere.

The Magic Tournament is a class-versus-class competition divided by year, held three times annually. This means there are divisions for first-years, second-years, and third-years. The event being held this time is for the second-year division. Incidentally, the fourth-year division isn’t held, as fourth-years are busy with their graduation research.

Only the class that achieves overall first place is awarded. Second or third place holds no value—it’s all or nothing. This award system perfectly embodies the classic mage ideology that permits any means to secure victory.

Only for this second-year tournament only, Her Majesty the Queen herself, will personally stand at the award ceremony, granting a medal to the winning class—an honor any imperial citizen would envy.

Every student participating in the Magic Tournament, along with each class’s supervising instructor, is fiercely determined to win—this is the essence of this year’s second-year Magic Tournament.

Amid all this, Class 2 of the second-years — Glenn’s class — has become the talk of the academy. Surprisingly, every single student in the class is participating. Top performers and low performers alike — all competing side by side.

“Glenn’s throwing the match,” “As expected of a man unfit to be called a mage,” “But Glenn-sensei’s class gets to have everyone participate, I’m jealous,” “Wait, isn’t this lack of effort disrespectful to Her Majesty?”—such whispers had been circulating widely this past week.

The rumor that Glenn started a challenge with Halley, betting three months’ salary on the championship, had also contributed to the attention.

That said, despite attracting curious gazes, no one actually expects anything from Glenn’s class. No one even thinks they stand a chance.

Eventually, the time arrives. The students, dressed in rapier-equipped dueling attire, gather and line up in the central field for the Magic Tournament’s opening ceremony. The opening address, national anthem, speeches from relevant parties, and the student representative’s oath—the ceremony proceeds solemnly.

And with the Queen’s words of encouragement, the Magic Tournament officially begins.

——

Poles are evenly spaced around the arena’s perimeter, and outside them, competitors soar through the air, slicing the wind with activated flight magic.

In the ‘Flight Race,’ teams of two navigate a course set across the vast academy grounds, passing a baton each lap while completing dozens of laps.

Now, it’s the final sprint. The students in the stands cheer wildly at the unexpected twists in the competitors’ flight paths as they circle the arena’s outer edge.

“And here comes the final corner! Class 2’s Rodd-kun, Rodd-kun—he’s overtaking! What’s happening!? Class 2, unbelievable, Class 2—what is going on!?”

The announcer, Earth from the Magic Tournament Committee, shouts excitedly through the magically amplified sound system, ignoring the leading contenders vying for first and second, fixated on Glenn’s Class 2 team.

“And they cross the finish line! Unbelievable, Class 2 takes third! That Class 2 got third! Who could’ve predicted this!?”

A flood of applause and cheers erupts.

The applause comes mainly from students who couldn’t participate in the tournament. Though from different classes, they seem to feel a connection to Glenn’s Class 2.

“Class 4, a frontrunner, gets overtaken at the very last moment—a shocking upset!”

As expected, Halley’s Class 1 takes first, but while their victory was taken for granted, Glenn’s Class 2’s unexpected fight steals the spotlight.

Meanwhile, at the waiting stands for participating classes.

“We did it, amazing! Sensei, third place! Rodd-kun and Kai-kun got third!”

(No way…)

While Rumia claps and cheers beside him, Glenn sits stunned, eyes wide. His gaze falls on Rodd and Kai, who, having competed against flight magic experts from other classes, high-five in the air, sharing their joy.

(…I never expected them to pull this off…)

That said, thinking calmly, this result is, in a way, logical.

Flight magic, used to soar through the skies, is activated by wearing a specialized flight-assist magical device—once broom-shaped airflow manipulators, now mainstream ring-shaped anti-gravity devices—and chanting the Black Magic [Levitate Fly] spell.

The ‘Flight Race’ tests flight magic proficiency, with this event requiring teams of two to alternate over a five kilometer course set within the academy grounds for a total of twenty laps. For a single lap, instantaneous flight speed matters, but twenty laps demand significant mana consumption and stamina, making it an endurance race. Flight magic, inherently difficult to maintain and control, also requires sharp focus. To excel under these conditions, competitors must complete the course multiple times in advance, to establish precise pacing.

Over the past week, those who practiced only this event versus those who juggled multiple events or had no practice time naturally differ in pacing skill and precision.

In fact, Rodd and Kai were outclassed in raw ability, languishing in last place during the first half. But in the second half, underprepared competitors from other classes, exhausted from the intense early lead battles, misjudged their pacing and faltered, some even dropping out due to mana depletion. Last year’s ‘Flight Race’ being a short-distance speed contest likely contributed to their miscalculations.

Various factors aligned, allowing Class 2 to seize an advantageous position.

(Sure, I told them it’s impossible to boost flight speed in a week, so just focus on pacing practice, but…)

Glenn hadn’t anticipated it would work out this perfectly.

“What a great start, Sensei!”

Sistine, her face flushed with excitement, turns to Glenn.

“I wondered what you meant by ignoring flight speed and just practicing pacing… but could this outcome have been part of your plan?”

“…Obviously.”

Even if it’s the usually cheeky, nagging Sistine, being looked at with such admiration leaves Glenn no choice but to respond this way.

“I foresaw this from the academy-wide misconceptions about the ‘Flight Race.’ After all, this event involves using [Levitate Fly] to navigate a five kilometers course, alternating with a partner for twenty laps. For a single lap, instantaneous speed matters, but—”

Explaining the hidden pitfalls of the competition as if he’d known them all along, Glenn sounds utterly uncool despite his confident delivery.

“—the rest is just waiting for them to mess up their pacing and self-destruct. So, my instructions were simple: stick to the pacing plan no matter what. Hmph, easy coaching.”

Leaning back in his seat, legs crossed, exuding smug confidence while hiding a smirk behind his hand, Glenn (at least visually) radiates the aura of a master strategist.

The students nearby, overhearing Glenn’s after-the-fact explanation, completely misinterpret it, gazing at him with awe and respect.

“Could it be… we…?”

“Yeah… I had a feeling, but if we follow Sensei, maybe we can…”

(Stop it, guys. Don’t look at me with those pure, hopeful eyes. It hurts my conscience.)

From the other side of the stands’ aisle, arguments break out between Class 4 students, who lost at the last moment, and Class 2 students.

“…Tch! Just because you fluked a win, you’re getting cocky…!”

“It’s not a fluke! This was all Glenn-sensei’s strategy!”

“Exactly! You’re just dancing in Sensei’s palm!”

“What’d you say!? Damn you, Class 2, acting all high and mighty! We, Class 4, will crush you first from now on! Prepare yourselves!”

“We’ll take you down! We’ve got Glenn-sensei on our side!”

“Yeah, with Sensei, we’ll never lose!”

(Please, guys, stop. Don’t raise the bar any higher, I’m begging you.)

Glenn breaks out in a cold sweat internally.

“Um… Sensei? You look pale. Are you okay?”

“Ah, Rumia… you’re the only oasis for my heart…”

“…?”

Rumia tilts her head in confusion at Glenn’s visibly drained appearance.

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!”

Celica, the academy’s magic faculty professor granted the honor of sharing the Queen’s VIP seats, laughs heartily at the unexpected outcome of the ‘Flight Race,’ forgetting she’s in the Queen’s presence—a bold act that could warrant immediate execution in less forgiving circumstances.

Indeed, Eleanor, the head maid standing behind the Queen, openly frowns, and Zelos and the Royal Guard patrolling the VIP area glare at Celica with displeasure.

But this free-spirited, unrivaled female mage, the pinnacle of the continent, remains unfazed.

“That’s unbecoming, Celica-kun. You are in Her Majesty’s presence. Isn’t laughing like that disrespectful?”

Headmaster Rick, also seated in the VIP area, sighs as he chides Celica.

“Ah, my bad, my bad. Sorry, Your Majesty. Forgive me.”

But Celica shows not a shred of remorse.

“Celica-sama, even so, speaking to Her Majesty in such a manner…”

Unable to let it slide, Eleanor starts to protest, but—

“It’s fine, Eleanor.”

Her Majesty, Queen Alicia, remains unruffled by Celica’s brazen attitude, smiling gently.

“She and I are old acquaintances, friends who’ve looked after me since I was a child. Besides, my visit today isn’t as the Queen of the Alzano Empire. It’s a private visit as Alicia, an ordinary citizen, to see the unadorned, true selves of the youths who’ll shape the empire’s future. No need for formalities, right?”

“That may be, but, Your Majesty, for the academy’s reputation…”

“I had the guest reception protocol set to VIP instead of state-level, didn’t I? See, today, I’m not someone you great figures need to unilaterally defer to.”

“S-Such words are too much… ugh…”

Rick groans, pressing his temple in exasperation.

“It looks fun, doesn’t it, Celica?”

“Yeah, it’s a blast, Alice.”

Celica responds to Alicia’s words with the affectionate nickname from her childhood.

“It’s truly refreshing. I’ve been fed up with the recent trend of seeking prestige in the Magic Tournament. Only fielding top performers to win? Ridiculous. What’s the point of a ‘festival,’ then? Can’t they use their limited brains to think for once?”

Unable to hold back, Celica chuckles softly.

“Still, that instructor, Glenn, has a remarkable tactical eye, doesn’t he?”

Alicia had just heard from Celica about the hidden pitfalls in this competition.

“Nah, not at all. That guy probably didn’t think about anything.”

But Celica casually dismisses it.

“Using all forty class members, focusing on pacing—it’s all just a coincidence that happened to work out perfectly. He’s basically an ordinary guy through and through. Just someone who put in a bit of effort.”

But, Celica continues.

“He’s undeniably ordinary, nothing more, yet somehow, he always pulls off the unexpected. He was born under that kind of star, I guess. It’s always been like that, hasn’t it, Your Majesty?”

Celica winks at Alicia as she speaks.

At Celica’s suggestive words, Alicia pauses, choosing her words carefully—

“Yes, you’re right. He was that kind of boy…”

She smiles nostalgically.

From then on, Glenn’s class continues its miraculous streak.

The fact that a class of average-performing students opened with a third-place finish was especially impactful.

They can fight, they can win. Class 2’s spirited performance embodies the critical importance of morale in competition.

Moreover, while other classes’ top performers must conserve mana for later events, Glenn’s students can pour all their mana into a single event, giving them a structural advantage.

Unbeknownst to Glenn himself, while other instructors, who dismissed mental fortitude, taught irrational tactics obsessed with mage decorum and prestige, Glenn—despite outwardly preaching mental grit—relentlessly taught practical and calculated strategies honed from his past life-or-death military experience.

Various factors bridge the gap between Glenn’s class and the others’ raw strength.

“He hit it! Class 2’s Cecil-kun lands a perfect shot on a flying disc three hundred metras away with [Shock Bolt]! In ‘Magic Sniping,’ Cecil-kun secures at least fourth place!? Another massive upset!”

“I did it… Not aiming at the moving target, but waiting for it to enter the space I’m targeting, just like Glenn-sensei said… This works…!”

Average students pull off unexpected feats, and…

“Now, the final question is projected into the sky with magical light letters—this… wait, no way—is that Dragon Language!? Dragon Language has appeared! This is brutal! The second-tier divine language and early ancient language questions were already tough, but this is a whole new level! The question setters clearly have no intention of letting anyone answer correctly! Each class’s representative starts chanting [Read Language] to decipher it, but this is just too much—”

“I’ve got it!”

“Oh!? Class 2’s Wendy steps up first, ringing the answer bell! She’s been on fire, but can she—could she actually solve this!?”

“‘The knight holds courage as their creed and speaks only the truth!’ It’s a line from Meiros’s poem, isn’t it?”

“She nailed it! The victory fanfare blares triumphantly! Wendy dominates ‘Speed Deciphering’ with an undisputed first place!”

“Hmph, I can’t afford to lose in this field. I owe it to Sensei’s advice—translating mythic languages into neo-ancient first, instead of jumping straight to the common tongue…”

Top performers consistently deliver strong results.

The stands erupt especially when Class 2’s events begin.

Compared to classes composed solely of elite performers from a different world, Glenn’s more relatable class ignites greater passion in the audience.

The fact that their leader is a rookie instructor surrounded by endless rumors, good and bad, adds to the buzz. Regardless, Class 2 is the undeniable center of attention at this Magic Tournament.

But—

(Well… the gap in raw ability is significant, huh—)

At Class 2’s waiting stands, while his students revel in high spirits, Glenn calmly assesses the situation.

He fixes his gaze on the scoreboard at the arena’s edge.

Currently, Glenn’s class ranks third out of ten. Halley’s class holds first.

The point gap between first and third isn’t massive, but there’s an undeniable sense of being slowly pulled away by Halley’s class.

(That said, sticking this close is impressive.)

Normally, they’d be dead last by a mile.

(You guys are amazing. You really believed in me and gave it your all this past week…)

Thinking back, Glenn initially had zero interest in the Magic Tournament. Despite being an academy alumnus, he’d completely forgotten about it, and his eventual enthusiasm stemmed purely from money. That’s the unvarnished truth.

But seeing his students come together, tackling the competition with such joy and determination, cheering each other on—

“…Tch, makes me wanna win for them… ugh, what a pain.”

Glenn mutters to himself, unnoticed.

(But what now? Holding this well is already a fluke—a miracle, really. The gap in raw strength is obvious…)

Their current momentum masks the difference, but as the tournament progresses, the true disparity in ability will surface, and they’ll gradually be left behind.

The morning featured many individual events, but the afternoon has high-point group events. If there’s a chance for a comeback, it’s there. And to seize it, they’ll need peak morale.

Glenn’s class is third. Gaining one more rank in the morning would be ideal.

If they can manage that—a slim possibility opens in the afternoon.

“The next event is the last of the morning session, right… uh, what was it…?”

Glenn flips open the program schedule.

Staring at it for a moment…

“…Got it. We might just pull this off.”

Glenn grins slyly.

During a break before the final event of the Magic Tournament’s morning session.

“Hey, Sensei…”

Unable to stay calm, Sistine nervously addresses Glenn, who’s slouched casually beside her.

“Can’t we… swap Rumia out for someone else, even now?”

“Huh…?”

Glenn shoots Sistine a look that screams, What are you talking about?

“I mean, her event…”

Sistine glances at the central field, where students are preparing for the next event. Ten competitors stand at equal intervals, forming a circle. Among them is Rumia, looking slightly tense.

“‘Mental Defense’… this brutal event is just too much for her…!”

Sistine pleads desperately, but Glenn remains unfazed.

The ‘Mental Defense’ event tests a mage’s essential skill of countering mental contamination attacks. Competitors endure mind-affecting spells using the White Magic [Mind Up] self-mental fortification spell. The power of the mental contamination spells gradually increases, and the last one standing with a stable mental state wins in this elimination-style endurance contest.

“Look! All the other classes’ competitors are boys! Rumia’s the only girl!”

As Sistine points out, the field is filled with tough-looking male students, with Rumia as the sole female.

“H-Hey… look at that… is she gonna be okay…?”

“A girl in this event…?”

“What’s that class’s instructor thinking…?”

Sistine isn’t the only one unsettled by Rumia’s presence. Murmurs of confusion rise from the stands.

Whether oblivious or aware of the mood, Rumia, drawing perplexed stares, waves lightly at her classmates in the stands, smiling brightly.

“Hah… you’re a harsh one, Sensei.”

A sardonic laugh and comment came from behind Glenn. Sistine glances over to see Gibul seated there, a twisted smirk on his lips.

“You weren’t here for last year’s tournament, so it’s no surprise you don’t know how grueling this event is. ‘Mental Defense’… last year, some competitors suffered mild mental breakdowns and were bedridden for three days. Did you not even look into that?”

“…”

Glenn stays silent.

“And look, check out the guy next to her.”

Gibul points to the student on Rumia’s right.

An intimidating figure stood beside her—far larger than Rumia. His burly physique, unusual for a mage, was at least two or three times her size. Red-dyed hair, tanned skin, and a fierce expression that seems perpetually irritated. He’d make any child or woman cry if encountered on a dark street. Adorned with silver accessories—rings, necklaces, piercings, bracelets—devoid of magical effect, his uniform sleeves were rolled up, revealing tattooed, muscular arms.

He exudes such menace and presence that even street thugs would steer clear.

“Class 5’s Jaill. The leader of a delinquent crew of fallen nobles and merchants’ second or third sons. Constantly tied to violence and trouble with the guards—his bad reputation precedes him.”

Gibul snorts in disdain.

“But even so, he was last year’s ‘Mental Defense’ champion. And by a massive margin, no less. His behavior aside, his mental fortitude is the real deal.”

“Y-Yeah… he sure looks intense…”

Sistine groans, convinced. In an academy where students typically carry an intellectual air, Jaill’s sheer distinctiveness is dizzying.

“Anyway, forget him. Sensei, isn’t it a bit cruel to pit a first-timer like Rumia against him in this event?”

“…”

“In fact, some classes have already given up on this event just because Jaill’s competing. Halley-sensei’s Class 1 even sent in low-performing students as expendables for this event alone. A rational choice, really. Only the winner gets points, and risking key players getting broken isn’t worth it.”

“…”

“I don’t want to believe it, but… Sensei, are you using her as a sacrificial pawn?”

At Gibul’s words, Sistine gasps, looking at Glenn’s profile.

Glenn sits silently, hands clasped, chin resting on them, elbows on his knees.

“Ah, I get it. She’s skilled at healing with white magic, but not much else. She’s decent enough otherwise, but with no healing-focused events this time, using her here to conserve other assets is quite logical…”

“…”

“Haha, no way, that’s some impressive tactical insight, Sensei. Makes me wanna puke, though.”

Glenn stayed silent. He hadn’t said a word for a while, just sitting there with his eyes closed.

That silence… wasn’t it more eloquent than any affirmation could be?

“Sensei… that’s a lie, right? There’s no way you of all people would do something like that… right?”

Sistine called out to Glenn, her voice tinged with unease.

But there was no sign Glenn would respond. She wanted to believe in him, but his attitude was undeniably unsettling.

“Sensei, say something, please… Sensei, come on!”

Unable to hold back any longer, Sistine shook Glenn…

And with a thud, Glenn’s body slumped to the side.

“Zzz…”

Upon closer inspection, Glenn was drooling, having fallen into a deep sleep at some point.

He hadn’t listened to a single word anyone said.

Sistine and Gibul froze, their cheeks twitching, utterly speechless for a few seconds.

“Get up, you—!”

“Gwahhh—!?”

Sistine’s full-force body blow landed perfectly into Glenn’s side.

“What the hell, you white cat?! I was in energy-saving standby mode, you know!?”

“Shut up! Stop spouting nonsense!”

Pointing at Rumia in the distance, Sistine let loose.

“More importantly, is what Gibul said true!? Did you really send Rumia out as a tactical pawn in this competition!?”

“Huh…?”

“If that’s true… even if it’s you, Sensei, I’ll never forgive you…!”

Her shoulders trembled with faint anger and confusion as Sistine glared desperately at Glenn.

“…I’m totally lost here.”

Scratching his head irritably, Glenn spoke.

“Rumia, a pawn? …Huh? What are you guys even talking about?”

“Eh?”

(Man, I’m starting to get nervous…)

In the brief moments before the competition began, Rumia glanced around, passing the time idly.

Looking toward the stands where her classmates sat, she caught a familiar sight: Sistine punching Glenn in the side. What had happened this time?

(Sistie’s so stubborn…)

Rumia smiled fondly at the thought.

“…Hey, you, girl.”

A gruff, biting voice came from beside her.

Turning, Rumia saw Jaill glaring at her, his face set in a scowl.

“I’m tellin’ ya, quit now while you can.”

“!”

“This competition ain’t some soft game for little girls like you… Unless you wanna end up in the infirmary getting your mind purified, get lost.”

His intimidating threat, paired with the predatory glint in his eyes, would’ve made any ordinary female student freeze in fear. But—

“Haha, um, you’re… Jaill-kun from Class 5, right? Are you worried about me? Hehe, that’s kind of sweet.”

“…Huh?”

Caught off guard by her completely unexpected response, Jaill faltered, his menace deflated.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Everyone in my class is working so hard, so I’ve gotta do my best too.”

“Tch… fine, don’t come cryin’ later.”

“Oh, and… your Class 5 is in second place right now, isn’t it?”

“…Hmph, so what? Who cares?”

“Well, my class is in third… so if I beat you, Jaill-kun, our rankings might just flip, huh?”

With that, Rumia pressed her index finger to her lips and gave a playful wink.

“…Heh, interesting.”

Jaill grinned ferociously, like a wolf spotting a rabbit.

Honestly, Jaill couldn’t care less about his class’s ranking. The Magic Tournament was a joke to him, and he was only here because his annoying instructor and classmates had begged him to participate, treating him like some untouchable nuisance. But this frail-looking girl had so blatantly challenged him—someone everyone else feared to even approach. It was only natural that her defiance lit a spark in his smoldering, wolf-like fighting spirit.

“Ahem, ahem, testing the sound amplification spell. Alright, it’s time! The ‘Mental Defense’ competition will now begin!”

Cheers erupted from the stands as the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

“And now, let’s introduce this year’s guest! Here he is! The Academy’s Instructor of Magic, an authority on mental manipulation magic! Sixth Rank, Baron Zest!”

Suddenly, a puff of smoke swirled at the center of the circle formed by the participating students, and a middle-aged man appeared, dressed flamboyantly in a tailcoat, silk hat, and sporting a mustache.

“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. Baron Zest le Noir, at your service.”

With a theatrical bow, the man appeared via a relatively simple short-range teleportation spell.

“Now, let’s get this competition underway. Dear competitors, how long will you withstand my splendid magical prowess this year…?”

Gulp. Several students swallowed hard.

“Here we go! First round, start! Baron Zest, take it away!”

“Very well, let’s start with a little warm-up—a classic [Sleep Sound] spell… Here we go!”

Thus began the ‘Mental Defense’ competition.

“《Grant rest to the body・peace to the heart・let those eyelids fall》”

Zest chanted the incantation for White Magic [Sleep Sound].

“《O my soul・from malicious intent・protect my mind》”

At the same time, the students countered with White Magic [Mind Up] as their counter-spell.

The moment the students completed their chants, Zest unleashed his spell with equal force on the ten students surrounding him. A sound like a struck tuning fork rippled through the air.

As the spell’s power spread across the field—

“They’re down—!? First round, and Class 1, Halley-sensei’s class, is already out—!?”

Laughter from the audience rained down on the student who collapsed, fast asleep on the ground.

“Pfft, total sacrificial pawn—!? Halley-sensei, you’re way too unmotivated!?”

“Hmm, I was hoping they’d last a bit longer…”

“Well, last year’s champion, Jaill-kun from Class 5, is here, so they’re probably saving their main players. His victory’s practically guaranteed, so the excitement’s a bit lacking. That said, as the announcer, I’m rooting for the lone rose among thorns, Class 2’s Rumia-chan, to see how far she can go… What do you think, Baron?”

“Heh, indeed. I’m eager to see how long this delicate girl can resist my mental manipulation spells, and just how I’ll taint her innocent heart… Fufufu…”

The baron cast a creepy smirk at Rumia.

Even Rumia, unfazed until now, broke into a cold sweat and instinctively stepped back.

“Whoa… Baron, did you just expose your creepy fetish!? Wait, are you that kind of pervert!?”

“What nonsense! I am not a pervert! I merely feel a soul-shaking thrill at the sight of girls losing their minds, breaking down, panicking, or falling into chaos!”

“That’s exactly what a pervert is—!”

Unaware that Headmaster Rick had silently decided to fire him, the baron continued chanting increasingly powerful mental manipulation spells. The students desperately countered with [Mind Up], and the rounds progressed steadily.

“Baron Zest’s White Magic [Confusion Mind] hits—!? Oh no, this is bad! Class 8’s competitor couldn’t hold out—!?”

“Abababababa… Hot! It’s hot!”

“Gyaah—!? Hey, you! I’m not thrilled at all when a male student strips! If anyone, it should be Rumia-kun—!”

“Oi, knock it off! At least try to hide your twisted desires, you idiot baron! Medics, get Class 8 out of here! Mental purification, now!”

“Next, White Magic [Marionette Work]! I’ll turn you all into my puppets! Dance!”

“Pfft! Hahaha—!? Class 10’s competitor couldn’t resist and started dancing—!? Don’t make guys do sexy dances, you creep baron! That’s gross!”

“…Tch.”

“Hey, baron, why’re you clicking your tongue at Rumia-chan!? Cut it out, you perverted old man!”

A storm of mental corruption spells raged. As expected, the ‘Mental Defense’ competition, much like last year, was descending into a chaotic hellscape.

Despite the chaos on the field, the audience in the stands was initially unimpressed. The competition looked underwhelming from the outside, and the outcome seemed predetermined.

Jaill from Class 5 would win. That was the general consensus, and indeed, as the mental corruption spells grew stronger, Jaill stood unfazed with a cold gaze.

“B-Baron… I’ve actually been in love with you this whole time…”

“Gyaah—!? Nooo—!? I’m breaking out in hives—!?”

“Ugh, gross—!? The baron’s lust-fueled White Magic [Charm Mind] backfired spectacularly—!? Someone, please do something about this perverted criminal noble! Medics, purify their minds! And while you’re at it, fix the baron’s head too! Hurry!”

“Now, with White Magic [Phantasmal Force], I’ll show you indescribable, blasphemous illusions! Tremble before the cosmic terror of my arcane secrets!”

“Aaaah—!? Nooo—!?”

“Uwaaah—!? Stop it! Anything but that—!?”

“The window! At the window—!?”

“Competitors are losing their sanity, writhing in madness! Baron, you’re going too far! Medics, purify them, quick! I say this every year, but why isn’t this competition banned!?”

But as the rounds progressed, a murmur began to ripple through the stands.

Rumia from Class 2, expected to be the first to fall in this grueling competition, was still standing. And not just standing—she wasn’t clutching her head or biting her nails in desperation like the others. She was calm, almost as composed as Jaill beside her.

Wait… could it be…?

The students’ doubts grew, gradually turning into anticipation—

“Class 9 is out—!? Who could’ve predicted this—!? It’s down to Jaill-kun from Class 5 and Rumia-chan from Class 2 in a one-on-one showdown—!?”

The unexpected turn of events sent the crowd into a frenzy, roaring with cheers.

“N-No way…”

Sistine, watching Rumia from the stands, was stunned.

“T-this… Was she always this strong…?”

Even Gibul, usually cool and detached, couldn’t hide his shock.

Glenn, looking annoyed, spoke up.

“White Magic [Mind Up] just amplifies your base mental strength. The stronger your natural mental control—basically, the more unshakable you are—the greater the effect. And in our class, no one’s got stronger mental fortitude than Rumia.”

“Her…?”

Glenn nodded.

“That girl’s mindset, her way of being, is different from normal people. It’s like she’s always ready to die at any moment… In a way, she’s an anomaly. When it comes to raw mental resilience, few can match her.”

“So that’s why you chose her for this competition…?”

Sistine suddenly recalled the terrorist incident at the Academy a month ago. Come to think of it, Rumia had faced those vile terrorist mages without flinching, standing firm despite the risk of death at any moment.

“Still, that Jaill guy’s something else. What kind of hell has he been through?”

Glenn stared, half-amazed, at Jaill, who remained as unfazed as Rumia.

“…I thought Rumia would breeze through this, but just in case…”

While Sistine cheered fervently for her best friend, Glenn quietly steeled himself.

On the competition field, even the baron was visibly perplexed by the unexpected development.

“Hmph, to think… Jaill-kun aside, I didn’t expect Rumia-kun to hold out this long… Tch.”

“…Baron, why do you sound subtly frustrated?”

“Now, shall we move on to White Magic [Mind Break]?”

Ignoring the announcer’s jab, Baron Zest declared the next spell.

“Here it comes! From the 27th round, it’s [Mind Break]—!? This spell temporarily destroys all cognitive functions, one of the most advanced and dangerous mental manipulation spells in white magic! If mishandled, it can reduce someone to a husk in an instant—!?”

“I won’t cast it that strongly, of course. At most, they’ll be dazed for three days or so! If Rumia-kun collapses, I’ll personally take responsibility for her treatment and care!”

“…And Jaill-kun’s care?”

“—Here I go!”

With that, Baron Zest solemnly chanted [Mind Break].

Rumia and Jaill responded by chanting [Mind Up].

The baron’s spell activated, a shrill metallic sound reverberating through the air…

“Hmm, are you both alright? If you’re fine, respond—”

“…Tch. This is nothing.”

“—Yes, I’m fine too.”

There was a brief pause, but both replied with steady gazes.

“They endured [Mind Break]—!? Incredible! These two are absolutely incredible—!?”

The crowd erupted at the thrilling development.

Amid the flood of cheers and thunderous applause, Jaill spoke to Rumia.

“Hmph. Not bad for a girl. Haven’t seen many guys with this much grit.”

“R-Really?”

“Heh. But it’s getting tough, ain’t it? You’re sweating bullets.”

“Haha… you noticed? Yeah, it’s… pretty rough. I almost blacked out just now…”

“Why not quit? Three days in a coma doesn’t sound fun.”

“Thanks for worrying, Jaill-kun. But… no way. I can’t afford to lose.”

Rumia smiled bravely, though her effort to push through was painfully obvious.

Jaill shrugged in exasperation.

“Hah… I don’t get it. Everyone’s so obsessed with ego and glory in this stupid tournament… What’s driving you to go this far?”

“Sensei said we’re all in this to win together. Everyone for one, and one for everyone.”

“Sensei? Oh, that rumored idiot teacher of yours. Hmph, makes even less sense. What’s so great about that dumb sense of duty?”

“It’s fun.”

Jaill fell silent at Rumia’s blunt words.

“Working together with everyone toward a single goal is so much fun, Jaill-kun. I only realized it because of Sensei. That’s why I have to keep going.”

“…Hmph, whatever.”

After that, Jaill said nothing more to Rumia. There were no words to spare for a worthy rival standing firm with unyielding conviction.

“Next up! The 28th round—!”

The competition was reaching its climax, and the stands were buzzing with excitement.

The fervor showed no signs of stopping.

“Alright… I’ll crank up [Mind Break]’s power just a bit more. Ready, you two?”

Baron Zest carefully adjusted the spell’s intensity and began chanting.

As the spell was cast again and again, Rumia and Jaill countered with [Mind Up], enduring [Mind Break].

The 29th round followed.

Then the 30th.

The rounds crept higher—

And then, in the 31st round, a shift broke the stalemate.

“Oh no—!? Rumia-chan’s staggering—!?”

The significantly stronger [Mind Break] unleashed a piercing metallic sound, louder than ever.

Had it finally pierced through [Mind Up]’s defenses?

Rumia’s body swayed, unsteady.

“…!”

Losing her balance, Rumia dropped to one knee, silently looking down.

“Meanwhile, Jaill-kun stands unmoved, like a statue! Has this finally settled it—!?”

“Are you alright, miss… Giving up?”

“…No.”

Her consciousness seemed foggy for a moment.

After a few seconds’ delay, Rumia shook her head, lifted her face with determination, and stood.

“…I’m fine. I can keep going!”

Her words and eyes burned with unyielding resolve.

“What—!? She’s continuing—!? The outcome’s still up in the air—!?”

The announcer’s voice sparked a deafening roar from the crowd. The lone girl’s final stand sent the arena’s energy to its peak. Everyone wanted to see it—the delicate girl defeating the formidable boy.

The crowd’s expectations swirled, and the announcer raised his voice to match—

“Alright, let’s keep it going! Next, the 32nd—”

“We forfeit!”

The sudden shout silenced the arena, as if doused with water.

“…Eh? Sensei?”

Rumia turned toward the voice.

There stood Glenn, having appeared out of nowhere.

“Uh, excuse me? What did you just say, Class 2’s instructor, Glenn-sensei…?”

“Forfeit. Class 2 is done as of clearing the 31st round. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

A subtle silence flowed through the entire arena.

“W-What… Class 2’s Rumia-chan has withdrawn… What an anticlimactic end…”

The announcer muttered with disappointment, and in the next moment—

“Don’t mess around! Let her finish the match! Get lost, you idiot instructor!”

A storm of boos erupted from the spectator stands.

But completely unfazed by the overwhelming disapproval, Glenn placed a hand on the head of Rumia, who was dazed by the sudden end to the match, and offered words of encouragement.

“You did great to make it this far, Rumia.”

Snapping back to reality, Rumia protested to Glenn.

“N-No way, Sensei! I can still…”

“Nope, that’s enough. You know it deep down, don’t you? You’ve reached your limit. There’s no next round for you.”

“…W-Well… that’s…”

It seemed he hit the nail on the head. Rumia hung her head with a dejected shun.

“But the championship… If I don’t win here…”

“Sure, it’s a shame. But even so, I can’t let you push yourself to the point of passing out for three days straight. You really did amazing… but your opponent was just too much.”

With an apologetic look, Glenn lowered his gaze.

Then, he glanced at Jaill, who stood tall and imposing nearby.

“I thought you’d win without much trouble. But I never expected a monster like that guy to show up. It was tough, wasn’t it… I’m seriously sorry.”

Rumia shook her head slightly and gave a faint smile.

“No, it’s not like that, Sensei. I had fun, you know? Losing stings a little, but… I felt like I was fighting for everyone, and that made me happy.”

“…I see.”

Ignoring the two of them, the announcer seemed to shift the topic to the winner’s interview, desperately trying to divert the audience’s attention from the booing.

“Ahem, well then, having splendidly won the [Mental Defense] match for the second year in a row, here’s Class 5’s representative, Jaill-kun. Please, a few words!”

“Heh, as expected of Jaill-kun… Hm? …Jaill-kun?”

Noticing Jaill’s complete silence and lack of movement despite being called, Baron Zest peered into his face with suspicion. Instantly, his expression changed.

“Oh? Is something wrong, Baron?”

“J-Jaill-kun is already—”

“Eh? What’s wrong with Jaill-kun?”

“H-He’s passed out while standing!”

“…What?”

The arena, which had been filled with a storm of boos directed at Glenn, fell silent once more.

“Uh… So that means…?”

“…Rumia-kun’s the winner. Even though she withdrew, Jaill-kun couldn’t clear the thirty-first round, while Rumia-kun technically did.”

A few moments passed. And then—

“…W-What in the world—!? What a shocking twist! The victor of this match is the sole rose among thorns, Class 2’s Rumia-chan—!”

A thunderous roar of cheers swirled through the arena.

“…S-Sensei…?”

“…No way.”

Caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, both Rumia and Glenn were wide-eyed in disbelief.

“You did it! You totally did it, Rumia!”

“Kya!?”

Someone tackled Rumia from behind, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Sistie?”

“Jeez, you’re so reckless! I told you to withdraw quietly if it got too tough instead of pushing yourself, you stubborn mule! …But, congratulations. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Looking around, the students from Class 2 had leapt from the stands and were rushing toward Rumia, surrounding her and rapidly praising her valiant effort.

Rumia wore a troubled expression and cast a glance at Glenn, who was watching from a distance.

Glenn’s lips curled into a smirk, and he shrugged in response.

Rumia gave a small nod, then turned back to her classmates—

“Thank you, everyone!”

And beamed with a joyful smile.

It was a radiant, unclouded smile, like a blooming flower—

“…Feeling a bit relieved, Alice?”

Celica spoke to Alicia, who had been watching Rumia’s match with rapt attention.

“…! …Yes.”

Alicia recalled that Celica and Rick, who were attending to her, had been informed of Rumia’s true identity—a top secret—after the incident a month ago. She nodded.

“Seeing that child, blessed with a great teacher and wonderful friends, smiling like that with my own eyes… It’s truly a relief.”

“Tch, if you love her so much as a mother, why didn’t you just come to me from the start? I could’ve handled it somehow…”

“That’s…”

“Don’t be unreasonable, Celica-kun. Surely Her Majesty had her own circumstances.”

Rick interjected, gently chiding her.

“I know, I know. I’m just pissed that something as stupid as ‘legitimate rule’ or ‘royal authority’ forced a mother and daughter to be torn apart.”

“…You’re right. I’m… a failure as a mother.”

Alicia lowered her head, her expression filled with regret.

“I’m not blaming you, Alice. You went to some pretty extreme lengths to save her, didn’t you? You pulled off an insane amount of scheming to make it look like the princess died of illness, and you went through a lot to arrange her new home… Plus, I heard from that guy that—”

“It’s fine… It’s fine.”

Alicia placed a finger to her lips with a shh and gave a vague smile.

“No matter what I did behind the scenes, it doesn’t change the fact that I abandoned her for the sake of the empire and the royal family’s prestige…”

Faced with such words, Celica was at a loss for what to say.

“I’m truly satisfied today. I was always worried about her, and being able to see her vibrant self with my own eyes, even from afar, means so much. I may never have the chance to see her again, but… I think I’ll be okay.”

“…”

“All I can do now is pray for her happiness. It feels like a weight has been lifted from my chest after all these years. Hehe, starting tomorrow, I can focus on my duties without any hesitation.”

“…”

“Oh, if I could be a bit greedier, I would’ve loved to see her as a bride… But that’s obviously impossible. A queen can’t exactly attend a commoner’s wedding.”

“…”

“Oh, speaking of weddings… When Glenn stepped in to stop her match earlier, didn’t the way she looked at him seem a little suspicious? Could it be… hehe.”

As Alicia continued her monologue, seemingly trying to convince herself, Celica cut straight to the heart of the matter.

“…Is that really okay, Alice?”

“…Huh?”

“Just watching from a distance like this, without even talking to her… Are you really fine with that?”

“That’s… But that’s impossible…”

“Tch, who do you think I am?”

Celica shrugged with a sigh.

“I’m Celica Arfonia, the renowned Seventh Rank of the North Continent! I may not be omniscient or omnipotent, but I can pull off most things. Like, say, tricking the Royal Guard and arranging a private mother-daughter reunion.”

“…Celica.”

“So? What’s it gonna be, Alice? Do you want to see your daughter or not?”

As Alicia hesitated at Celica’s offer, an unexpected voice came to her aid.

“At least for this moment, why not be true to yourself, Your Majesty?”

Surprisingly, it was Eleanor, who had been quietly standing behind Alicia, observing the situation.

“Eleanor?”

Alicia blinked in shock, never expecting Eleanor—the cautious one who had advised leaving even a keepsake locket behind—to say such a thing.

“It’ll be fine. Celica-sama is one of the continent’s greatest mages. Surely nothing bad will come of it.”

“See? Even your attendant’s on board!”

Celica grinned mischievously, seizing the opportunity.

Headmaster Rick, watching Celica’s forceful intervention, let out a discreet wry smile.