While all the other students were settling into their seats as directed by the teacher, one particular student was lost in his thoughts.
'Auka, Auka Geevolaince…' He observed the girl from what he considered a safe distance.
'This girl, despite being placed in Class D, managed to resonate with a Grade 4 magical tool.' That was impressive, but not enough for this student.
His identity? He was an honorable member of the Expilon cult, and his mission, although tedious, was to remain vigilant in case any student possessed heroic genes.
That's why, despite this blue-haired with gray eyes student who had been tasked with monitoring the others, this girl's actions so far hadn't caught the spy's full attention.
He comfortably settled into his chair, his thoughts shifting. 'Now, time for work. Maxwell, do you have the heroic gene or not?' He focused his gaze on the arena, locking onto a black-haired, red-eyed student.
The spy wasn't foolish; he still had that girl's name etched in his mind. After all, from the information he had gathered from other members, most of the first-year students had acquired magical tools between grades 1 and 3.
The exceptions were: Auka, Tristan, Razelitta, and Isabella. Of the four, only Tristan had an "explanation" — he came from a high-ranking noble family.
Isabella, he could almost understand as well. She was a Fiorelle, after all. As the only daughter of that family, they likely inundated her with training during her childhood.
But Razelitta and Auka were pure mysteries.
He knew Razelitta was a peasant. But who was Auka? Her surname wasn't even familiar to him.
'I just found out about her now. There must be a file on her somewhere in this school.' He thought holding his chin while analyzing the boy on the arena that was impatiently waiting.
Moments later, a shout echoed from the boy in the arena. "HURRY UP, YOU BASTARD! SHOW YOURSELF!" The boy's voice was loud and clear.
"COME ON! COME, YOU COWARD! YOU KEPT ANNOYING ME, AND NOW YOU'RE CHICKENING OUT? HAHAHA!"
The bloody glare of the student in the arena was fixed on the entrance where his opponent would appear.
Maxwell was about to shout again, but a student wearing a deep blue uniform, on the other side, intensified the sound of his footsteps, stepping harder as he sighed and spoke while entering the arena.
"You miserable peasant, lower your tone. Your superior has arrived."
The young man was applauded by the crowd, but the professors from the respective classes quickly silenced their students.
The third-year positioned himself twenty steps in front of Maxwell.
The referee raised a white flag, and both students in the arena prepared themselves. The opponent held a shield in one hand, and his magical tool being a long sword with flames etched into it on the other.
Maxwell, on the other hand, merely stretched and placed his fists a few inches in front of his body.
"He didn't bring a magical tool?"
The student who asked was Razelitta, concerned that Maxwell seemed damn to lose.
'He's already using a magical tool…' Auka thought, rolling her eyes. Auka already knew that Maxwell's magical tool was, in fact, his fists. A freak of nature? Perhaps.
Back to the combat, the referee lowered the flag, and the two young men rushed to meet in the middle of the arena, beginning the fight. After all, both of them were engaged in close-range combat style.
—Swish!
—Splash!
Blood spilled from Maxwell's left hand as he grabbed his opponent's sword without any protection. Stopping the sword in place.
"What?! Are you insane?!"
Without responding to his opponent's outburst, Maxwell forcefully pulled back his right fist, aiming directly at his adversary's chest.
Just as he struck, Maxwell exclaimed the name of his attack, "Double Impact!"
His punch delivered a strong impact, making the opponent's body bend. Moments later, another impact followed, accelerating the speed at which the body was thrown.
"Kaah!" The student, hurled by the punch, spat blood but quickly stood up.
How could a first-year student throw him so far? He was a third-year student!
He got to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth, though it didn't help with the smell nor the wounds. He had reached a single conclusion: Maxwell was already using a magical tool and had already achieved advanced mastery with it.
He looked toward Maxwell, who was approaching with a devilish grin. He was searching for the tool, but there was none!
Brute strength? No. To enter Burialle, one had to pass the entrance exam, which involved the use of mana manipulation in spells.
In other words, he had to have some sort of tool.
"Well, as proud as I am, I don't want to become a joke to the other third-years." He said while shrugging his shoulders.
After the student spoke, he placed the shield on the sand and then sheathed his sword and concentrated, adopting a stance well-known among the swordsman faculty.
"Sword Domain! Medium form." A rounded space was drawn on the ground. It had no peculiarities, no color — just a three-meter circle with the student at its center.
"What kind of stance is that? Do you think I'm coming to you?" Maxwell spoke in a rare normal tone.
As Maxwell ran, he extended his right arm and let mana flow into his fist.
He detected the line he was looking for and pulled it. "Impact…"
The other student, focused on his technique, felt the wind's intensity increase on his skin.
He decided to glance and realized he was being thrown — through the air this time!
Needless to say, the shock he felt disrupted his technique.
"Two abili—" He was shocked and tried to exclaim as he formed his defensive stance, but he was interrupted as he reached the distance where Maxwell could strike.
"...of Connected String!"
With his left hand, Maxwell gathered mana and punched the face of the student before him. Although he hadn't spoken aloud, he had applied an ability to his left hand along with the one in his right that pulled the opponent.
—Thud, the student got punched in the face leaving a red mark.
The aftermath was now clear, Maxwell was standing and the third year was on the ground. He wasn't unconscious, yet most of the people there were starting to think he was.
"WAAA!" The audience began to cheer over Maxwell's victory.
Maxwell then grinned at the student on the ground. He had successfully teached this bastard a lesson.
He then turned to the audience and struck a winning pose, extending his still dripping blood left arm. Shouting a battle cry.
But the boy on the arena floor got up, all eyes landed on him except Maxwell, that didn't seem to notice. He started gathering mana from the nearby area and molding it into his tool with incredible speed.
The student's eyes were wide open with concentration, veins bulging on his head. Locked on Maxwell's figure.
How could he, a third year student, lose to a first year that just entered Burialle?! Impossible, even though he was limited by the school, by no means this should happen!
There's no way he didn't cheat. Screw the rules the staff gave him, it was now a direct strike into his pride.
"Primal Asce…"
He was quickly interrupted by the referee. "We've already discussed that you can only use second-year or lower techniques."
The boy did not care, "...nsion! Indulging Lio—"
"Oh, you're still standing? THEN COME ON, I'LL HUMILIATE YOU!" Maxwell side-glanced his opponent with a smile.
But, luckily for the poor third-year student, the referee blew the whistle and declared Maxwell the winner. He also threw a cube shaped object towards the third year student.
The object beamed a weak light, but its effects were clear, as the student holding the sword magical tool was confused and shaked the tool multiple times.
"Lucky…" Maxwell was disappointed. His smile had quickly transitioned to a mix of sad and bored one.
As he started to leave the arena, he muttered to himself, "Personal record broken: five seconds using three abilities, probably."
But before stepping out of the arena, he glanced at the referee, thinking, 'I know what Tool Ascension is, and I also know how to counter it, you bald idiot.'
Meanwhile at the 1410 seats, in contrast to the whole class, was Auka Geevolaince. Her silver eyes carefully noting the outcome of this match, not like the other ones. She was comparing this battle to the tutorial one she played in the game.
Her conclusion was that the battles here were essentially the same. The differences were that here was way much more visual, Maxwell's skills did the same thing as in the game.
Back to the cult's spy, he thought, 'Just another ordinary student. Looks like my choice to stay here was the right one. No students with heroic genes this year.'
Despite thinking this, he knew subconsciously that as a member of the Expilon cult, he had been trained never to make hasty decisions and to always follow the mission.
…
We left the arena. It was spectacularly boring!
It was literally just like in the game! And that thing that makes my vision blue and gives me screens didn't appear during the combat tutorial. I thought the reason it happened during the subjugation room was that it was a game scene.
But then, why didn't anything happen in the arena?
Besides this weird thing, the battle only surprised me in the dimensional part. The guy was thrown into the air like nothing and pulled with even less effort.
It was straight out of an animation!
If I had to say a difference would be that the other party skills were much more detailed. In the game, sword domains, or rather the focus skill, just made the character crouch and have a stance of holding the sword.
'And also what was that at the end? The enraged state?' I couldn't pinpoint it.
I sighed as I just finished gathering the things I brought to school. I'm finally about to complete my checklist of tasks for a transmigrator.
I used the waiting time during the battle to calm down and say everything I needed to say.
The only thing left is some sort of journal. After all, I don't know if my memories of this world will be magically erased any time soon.
And they are my best cards to survive in this world. Giving an example, this goddamn prologue. If I was just an extra, I would die, period.
This is specially true since this world is on the Izzy's half and half route. 'Oh shit, I almost got derailed yet again. I was talking about my journal or diary plan.'
And of course, the tiny to-do list of what I have to accomplish before the prologue. My plan, by the way, is to get strong and survive alongside Dorian.
It's not what I initially wanted, but there's no way I'll be able to face the prologue alone.
I left the classroom, and just as I expected when I was in line to return, a bunch of students crowded the halls near 1410.
"Lady Geevolaince!?"
"Miss Geevolaince!"
"Lady Geevolaince."
"Miss Geevolaince?"
"Miss Geevolaince...!"
Student factions.
It's no surprise I attracted people's attention, but the surprise I experienced is entirely different. After all, if a student managed to link with a Grade 4 tool before academy training, what do you think that student's future will be?
This is the perfect moment for them to grab my attention. After all, I wasn't in any faction yet.
But I won't choose any faction. I'm completely confident in saying: No.
I gripped my backpack and dashed through the small gaps left by the extras from my class as I passed through the crowd.
'It's blue again…' My vision had turned blue during my escape.
Just when I was about to ignore this event, I saw four screens slowly appearing in a counterclockwise order. A grin appeared on my face.