Merlin pressed his ear against the door, listening intently. His body, honed by practicing the mysterious postures from the relief, was now highly attuned to the slightest sound. Inside the room, he detected faint footsteps approaching the door.
*Why did they stop?* he wondered, furrowing his brow.
Just moments ago, he had clearly heard someone walking to the door, but now, all sounds had ceased.
Suddenly, a loud *crash* shattered the silence. The wooden door beside him splintered with a forceful punch, and broken shards flew in every direction. A hand darted out from the hole, a glint of white flashing as a knife jabbed toward Merlin.
*I've been found!* Merlin realized, barely managing to react in time. The knife moved too fast for him to block, forcing him to roll away to evade the strike.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, furious at how close he'd come to being killed without even getting a glimpse of his assailant. He'd been careless, no doubt about it.
Without wasting a moment, Merlin gathered his strength, his body coiling like a predator preparing to strike. Using his powerful agility, he launched himself at the shattered door, crashing through it with a resounding *crack*. He collided with a soft body, sending his opponent sprawling back into the room.
Inside, it was dark, the windows nailed shut by city guards. The room was practically sealed, filled with a damp, moldy stench from lack of ventilation.
After knocking his opponent back, Merlin quickly rose, his gaze sharp as he asked, "Who are you?"
The figure in front of him wore a long black robe, its wide sleeves concealing their shape. A large, shadowy hood obscured their face, leaving no discernible features.
The mysterious figure didn't respond. Instead, they raised the knife again, and their robe began to sway slightly, as though caught in an unseen breeze.
*Wind element? An elemental swordsman?*
Merlin, now sensitive to elemental energies, immediately detected the distinct swirl of wind energy enveloping his opponent—a sign of an elemental swordsman, likely at the first level, based on the energy fluctuations.
With a sudden burst of speed, the black-cloaked figure lunged at him, moving at lightning speed. In the dim light, Merlin could barely keep track of the opponent's movements—their speed was overwhelming.
Forced to stay rooted, Merlin adopted a defensive stance, ready to react to any sudden movement. But each of his strikes met only empty air, leaving him frustrated and feeling helpless against the shadowy figure.
A chilling sensation grazed his neck as the knife barely missed, slicing a shallow cut. Fortunately, his resilience, strengthened by the mysterious relief postures, prevented serious injury.
*Their speed is overwhelming,* he thought, frustration mounting. A Wind Swordsman's expertise was in rapid, evasive strikes. Fighting one in such dark, close quarters placed him at a serious disadvantage.
Determined to turn the fight around, Merlin bolted for the doorway, hoping to reach a more favorable position.
But his assailant was even faster, blocking his path and thrusting the knife toward his chest.
"Got you," Merlin smirked, seizing the opportunity. Taking advantage of the light streaming from the door, he could finally make out the figure's shape.
"Fireball!"
With a loud whoosh, a fireball appeared in midair, hurtling straight toward the cloaked figure. The fireball's intense heat lit up the room, momentarily startling his opponent, who only had time to sidestep partially. The fireball struck the cloak, scorching it and revealing a cascade of golden hair underneath.
Though the room remained dark, Merlin could sense his opponent's surprise.
Taking advantage of their hesitation, Merlin lunged forward, seizing the cloak and throwing his opponent hard against the ground.
*Thud!*
The cloaked figure hit the floor with force, their body momentarily stunned. But they quickly tried to recover, raising the knife again to strike at Merlin's neck.
With a sharp grunt, Merlin grabbed their wrist with one hand, while his other hand gripped a handful of hair, slamming their head against the wall.
*Thud. Thud. Thud.*
After three solid impacts, his opponent stopped struggling and went limp, finally subdued.
Panting heavily, Merlin took a step back, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through him. This was his first real fight to the death. Despite his power as a mage, he had nearly lost his life due to inexperience in actual combat.
Mages, even entry-level ones like Aita and himself, could wield considerable power. Aita, with only two basic spells, had easily outmatched higher-level elemental swordsmen. But Merlin had made the fatal error of underestimating his opponent and hesitating to use his spells.
Touching his neck, he felt the sticky warmth of his own blood, though the cut was shallow and had already stopped bleeding. It served as a sobering reminder of how close he had come to death.
*If I had just used Fireball from the start, I wouldn't have risked this,* he thought, reflecting on his mistakes. A mage's strength lay in keeping distance, not engaging in close combat with an elemental swordsman.
The figure remained unconscious on the floor. Merlin seized the chance, bending down to remove the partially burned hood.
He was met with singed golden hair, the scent of burnt cloth still lingering. Merlin couldn't help but mutter, "Such beautiful hair, what a shame."
Removing the rest of the hood, he brushed back the remaining hair from his opponent's face, finally getting a clear look at them.
*Jia?*
To Merlin's shock, lying before him was none other than Jia, the seemingly ordinary history teacher. He recalled how even Gut's family connections had failed to uncover anything about her background. Now, here she was, her combat skills suggesting she was far from a typical teacher.
As Merlin pondered Jia's connection to Aita, a faint groan escaped her lips as she began to regain consciousness.
Stepping back, Merlin watched her intently, his face unreadable.
A few moments later, he noticed Jia's breathing quicken, prompting him to speak in a calm, almost mocking tone, "There's no use pretending. I know you're awake."
Opening her eyes, Jia looked at him, her expression unfazed. "Wilhelm Merlin? I never expected Master Aita would take you as a true disciple."
Jia began to rise, but Merlin raised his hand, summoning another fireball that he sent crashing to the floor beside her, leaving a charred hole in the wood.
"Don't try anything," he warned coldly. "Next one will be aimed at you."
The fireball was a stark reminder of his power, and Jia's calm facade finally showed a hint of wariness. Merlin's month-long training had not only refined his control but also strengthened his confidence. He was done with hesitation.