Raphael Earhart
Ten minutes later, we gathered on the training ground inside the arena. The stone-vaulted space echoed faintly with every step we took, the sound bouncing back as if the walls themselves were watching.
— How long will you be using the grounds, sir? — The hoarse voice of the elderly caretaker reached me as he approached, his expression skeptical.
His gaze carried the doubt of someone who had seen countless "privileged children" come and go, their enthusiasm for training dissipating at the first hint of fatigue.
— About two hours, — I replied evenly.
— Very well. If you need anything, I'll be nearby, — he said, giving a short bow before shuffling off.
We were provided training outfits, and after everyone changed, we chose weapons from the racks lining the walls. The arena itself was spacious, its white-tiled floor gleaming under the high ceiling, which reached an impressive ten meters. A perfect place for sparring without the risk of breaking anything above us.
— Sir, what do you think about a team match? — Renald asked, rolling his shoulders as he warmed up.
I glanced at the group of cadets who had accompanied him. His suggestion was practical, given their numbers.
— You're proposing we split evenly?
— Yes, sir, that's correct, — Renald nodded.
— And how do you suggest we decide the teams?
Truthfully, I had little knowledge of these cadets' abilities, aside from the general observations I'd made. Renald, on the other hand, seemed to have a good understanding of his comrades' strengths and weaknesses. This placed me at a strategic disadvantage, though improvisation was an essential skill for any leader.
— Let's do this fairly, — Renald suggested, his tone steady. — Lady Erin and the rest can write their names on slips of paper, and we'll draw them blind. Does that sound fair?
— Agreed.
This method eliminated any potential for manipulation and kept things simple.
Though, if I wanted to cheat, it wouldn't be hard. A tiny shard of ice on Erin's slip would've made it easy to identify by touch. Subtle, nearly undetectable. But such tactics weren't necessary here; this was about testing teamwork and adaptability, not winning by trickery.
Renald found a piece of sturdy cardboard and fashioned a makeshift box with a slot on top.
Including myself and Renald, there were seven of us in total — an odd number. Just as I considered suggesting an uneven split, Mark spoke up.
— I think I'll sit this one out, — he said, scratching the back of his head. — I'm not much of a fighter, but I'm a decent healer. I'll act as referee, if that's alright.
— That works for me, — I said with a nod.
— Agreed, — Renald echoed.
With the lineup settled, the rest wrote their names on scraps of paper and tossed them into the makeshift box. Mark gave it a good shake, ensuring the names were well-mixed.
— Who's first?
— I don't mind. You go ahead, Renald.
— As you wish, sir, — he said with a grin, reaching into the box. After pulling out the first slip, he smirked and held it up: "Erin."
Erin exhaled softly and moved to stand behind Renald.
My turn. I reached into the box, withdrew a slip, and unfolded it: "Liana."
Liana approached with a calm expression and positioned herself at my side.
One by one, the teams formed:
Team Renald: Renald, Erin, and Elvira.
Team Raphael: Raphael, Liana, and Elias.
— Prepare for battle, — Mark announced, stepping to the sidelines as the referee.
I selected a training rapier from the weapon rack. While my personal sword would've been ideal for a real fight, its lethality made it unsuitable for sparring with cadets. Even though the training weapons provided were crafted with the same precision as the actual armaments of our family, they were far safer for practice.
I surveyed the chosen weapons of my teammates and opponents.
Liana, standing beside me, wielded a light bow. On her belt hung several throwing knives, hinting at a combat style reliant on agility and precision. She seemed the archetypal scout or assassin, excelling in ranged attacks and stealth. Elias, on the other hand, had opted for a two-handed greatsword. With his muscular frame, the weapon suited him perfectly, each swing likely to devastate even the most robust defenses.
Across the arena stood Renald, dual-wielding short blades. His stance and poised movements suggested he would rely on speed and agility. Erin, as expected, carried her standard one-handed sword, an all-too-familiar weapon in her hands — I knew firsthand how dangerous she could be with it. Elvira, standing beside her, gripped a long spear, its elegance mirroring her graceful bearing.
We lined up, and I turned to my teammates to better understand their capabilities.
— What elements do you specialize in? — I asked.
Elias responded without hesitation:
— Fire. First stage of Smoldering Spark.
I nodded, already planning how to integrate his offensive potential into our strategy. My gaze shifted to Liana, prompting her to answer.
— Phytokinesis, — she said, her tone steady despite a hint of shyness. — I can summon vines, create wooden shields, and… other things. Second stage of Smoldering Spark.
I kept my expression neutral, though inwardly, I was impressed. Phytokinesis was a rare affinity, one that allowed manipulation of vegetation, and her second-stage mastery suggested remarkable potential. Combined with her composure, she seemed well-versed in wielding her abilities effectively.
Elias also deserved some recognition. Fire was one of the most potent elements, and despite being in the early stages of Spark, he compensated with aura development—achieving the first stage of Silver Glint for his age was quite impressive.
— Not bad, — I said. — What about your knowledge of our opponents' strengths?
— Renald wields wind magic. He uses it to boost his speed. Elvira, on the other hand, controls earth. She creates barriers and launches stone projectiles, sometimes even something like a gatling gun.
As I expected, my guess about Renald's combat style was spot on.
— Understood, — I nodded. — As for Erin, she doesn't possess natural elemental magic. She relies on enhancing her body with mana and sharpening her blade. But don't underestimate her. Her mastery of basic mana manipulation techniques is impressive, even to me.
It wasn't boasting or an exaggeration—just the truth. My control over mana, honed through rigorous training and knowledge from my past life, rivaled even the older members of our circle. I understood the very essence of magic and technique on a level that most cadets or even many Earharts couldn't grasp yet. For them, magic was still surface-level—a tool rather than a discipline.
Even so, Erin's foundational control was extraordinary. Lacking elemental affinities, she carved her path through basic mana manipulation, excelling in fundamental skills like body reinforcement and blade sharpening. Her proficiency was so refined it was almost awe-inspiring for someone her age.
Yes, her raw power fell short compared to more mature mages like Lucius, but among her peers, she stood nearly unmatched.
— It'll be a straightforward three-on-three, — Mark announced, taking his place as referee. — To win, one team must incapacitate all three members of the other. A participant is considered out if they're pinned to the ground and held down by the shoulder.
The shoulder rule was likely added to prevent someone from deliberately lying on their back to pull off a maneuver or counterattack. Not exactly elegant, but practical.
— Oh, and no lethal attacks or actions that could cause irreversible injuries, — Mark added more seriously. — If someone gets a minor wound, I'll heal them.
Simple and standard rules, though honestly, they sounded a bit ridiculous. In a real fight against a serious opponent, worrying about "non-lethal" damage was like trying to punch someone while gently patting them at the same time. If I held back in a fight against Aurora just to avoid injuring her, I'd be turned into mincemeat within seconds.
Not that I hadn't been turned into mincemeat before…
I glanced at Erin, whose eyes gleamed with focus and excitement.
— Master, I won't hold back, — she declared confidently, her voice carrying a hint of defiance.
— That's what I like to hear, — I replied with a faint smile. Turning to Renald, I added: — I trust you'll give it your all as well.
— Naturally.
— Three... two... one! — Mark called out, stepping back and signaling the start.
In an instant, Renald's blade flashed toward me. I barely deflected the strike and stepped back, gauging his speed. He propelled his movements with bursts of wind, making his attacks blindingly fast. But tricks like that wouldn't work on me.
Shifting gears, I charged straight at him, meeting his next strike head-on. Renald faltered for a split second, his eyes widening in surprise at my boldness. Our blades clashed, igniting an intense exchange of blows. His style relied heavily on agility and speed, but I'd seen similar techniques before. My experience gave me an edge, allowing me to read through his movements effortlessly.
While I parried his every attack with ease, I refrained from making serious counterattacks, focusing instead on maintaining the rhythm. I was curious to see how much he'd show when pushed.
Yet something about his fighting seemed off. He wasn't using his full arsenal, sticking instead to basic maneuvers like body acceleration and rapid blade strikes. It was as if he were holding back, restrained by something.
As we continued our exchange, I stole a quick glance around. Elvira was locked in combat with Liana, who skillfully used throwing knives and a bow to keep her opponent at a distance. Erin and Elias, meanwhile, were engaged in a heated duel. Elias swung his massive greatsword with powerful arcs, while Erin parried each strike with precision, augmenting her movements with mana to match his ferocity.
These cadets were impressive. Their control over mana and their weapon skills surpassed most of their peers. With their abilities, they could easily qualify as bodyguards for a noble family member. The only unsettling part was that I didn't remember any of them from my past life.
Refocusing on Renald, I noticed irritation creeping into his expression.
— Master, why aren't you attacking? Why are you just defending?
— What's the point of attacking when you're not showing your full strength? — I replied calmly. — I can just keep wearing you down.
Renald frowned, but then a glint of understanding flashed in his eyes.
— I see, — he muttered, leaping back and adjusting his stance.
In the next instant, he raised his hand, sending three shimmering wind blades hurtling toward me. I sidestepped the first and second, but the third passed so close it brushed the air by my cheek. Suddenly, his blade—enhanced by a powerful gust of wind—was inches from my face. Instinctively, I dodged, narrowly avoiding losing an ear.
— More exciting now, isn't it? — he asked, a touch of smugness in his tone.
A satisfied grin spread across my face.
— Yes. Now we're getting somewhere.