The Obsessive Regressor of The Academy

18. Entrance Exam (4)

The air itself vibrated with an almost palpable electrical charge, radiating outwards. Sparks engulfed the leaves, setting them ablaze, and a searing pain, akin to being flayed with knives, tore across their skin. Sevia and Paul, caught in Ruhan’s wake, staggered, their bodies locking up with pain, collapsing in place.

“Kuh-heuk!”

“Kyaaa!”

My body trembled. Something was off with the electrical signals from my brain; my fingers twitched on their own accord.

Paul gritted his teeth, raising his head to glare at Asel. Ruhan was gone from where the lightning had struck. Transported, gravely injured, by a mere spell.

‘A mere spell?’

Paul repeated the thought to himself, letting out a hollow laugh.

That couldn’t be described with such words. The destructive power, erupting without a single sign, was beyond imagination. At a rough guess, twice that of Celine’s. And the speed of the magic’s manifestation defied common sense. To judge him as a simple mage and engage in combat would lead to defeat in an instant, just like Ruhan.

“Sevia!”

Paul slapped Sevia’s back with a trembling hand. She had been lying face down, weeping, but now she lifted her head as if regaining her senses.

“Listen carefully. Endure until Celine completes her spell. Then we decide whether to keep fighting or run. Understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then get up!”

Paul shouted as he leveled his sword at Asel, who stood still. Asel glanced at Sevia, who was struggling to her feet, then turned his gaze towards Celine, who was still chanting.

“Is the meeting over?”

“……Ugh.”

“The magic you’re using is Saint-tier. Powerful, but it has the disadvantage of requiring a warm-up. And…”

Asel met Celine’s hardened gaze and chuckled.

“It’s also vulnerable to external interference.”

Kkiririk.

Asel twisted his fingers as if manipulating a puppet. In response, Celine’s spell began to distort grotesquely. The characters she’d painstakingly inscribed vanished, the perfect circle warped, and magical energy spewed outwards. Celine, who had been channeling magic into the spell, coughed up blood from the backlash.

“Ugh!”

A pain like her organs were churning erupted. Celine, drenched in cold sweat, stared at Asel in disbelief.

‘He interfered with my magic from the outside? How is that possible?’

She was a mage hailed as a genius even within the Magic Tower. No matter how skilled a spellcaster might be, they couldn’t casually interfere with her magical manipulation. To begin with, there were very few mages capable of doing such a thing. Only a Grand Magus could pull something like that off.

So, does that mean that man is a Grand Magus?

“Kuh-heuk!”

With each successive thought, the spell grew more distorted. Celine hurriedly regained her composure and withdrew the spell she had been weaving. The magical energy, once flowing like a breached dam, slammed directly into Celine, staggering her with a head-shaking impact.

“Sevia! Protect Celine!”

Seeing the scene unfold, Paul yelled and charged at Asel.

Unlike Ruhan, he was wary of Asel’s magic. He had prepared to sidestep at any moment, ready to retaliate. Asel, watching him approach, made a small, hmm sound.

“First time seeing an aura. So, it’s like a structure spreading from the heart, through the blood vessels, to the whole body, huh.”

“Don’t get cocky!”

Acel chuckled, leaping backwards. A monstrous storm erupted in the wake of his small action.

[Wind Flood]

Spreading wind. Paul squinted as the scattering dirt stung his eyes, slicing through the wind with his blade. Between his eyelids, now properly opened, crimson flames blossomed.

[Kindling Fire]

Flames danced at Acel’s gesture, engulfing Paul’s shoulder. Paul gritted his teeth at the instantaneous searing pain, slashing off his shoulder guard. The sequence unfolded with remarkable speed. Quick judgment, decisive action. His combat sense was more developed than he’d anticipated. Perhaps, this was thanks to his honed instincts as a warrior.

*Shhhwing!*

A sharp dagger sliced through the air, hurled in his direction in the midst of his pondering.

Acel incinerated the dagger Sevia had thrown, reducing it to ash, and scattering it with a grand flourish. Then, he enacted his magic.

[Ignition]

A magic that burns what the hand touches. Rather than projecting fire from a distance, this spell, by directly igniting things, holds potency that far surpasses its risks. The scattered ashes glowed a fiery red, and Paul, sensing the anomaly, recoiled.

*Kwaaa!!*

Flames, using the ash as a medium, erupted in an instant, consuming the forest. Paul clenched his teeth as fire clung to his leg, tearing off his leg armor as well. The exposed trousers clung to his skin, seeping pus and blood.

A gruesome spectacle. Acel, even, was slightly taken aback seeing his own magic’s power.

‘…Was it *this* strong?’

He knew how much his magic had improved through sparring with the mages. But witnessing its destructive force and lethality firsthand, impacting a tangible opponent, was a first. Ordinarily, mages could block or deflect such attacks. He could count on one hand the times he’d drawn blood during practice.

And even then, most of the time, that blood belonged to Acel himself. The people he often sparred against were Ena and the witches from the coven. No matter how comparable their ranks were, or how exceptional their talents, their fighting styles proved quite difficult for him, who lacked real-world combat experience.

Of course, they too were finding it increasingly difficult to counter Acel’s growing magic, but still, it was usually Acel bleeding in those duels.

So, he adjusted the potency as he would when sparring with them, but it seemed he’d overdone it. Acel clicked his tongue, concerned about the man who’d been struck by lightning earlier and disappeared.

“…He’s not dead, is he?”

He muttered the words, but the anxiety lingered. Acel sighed deeply, canceling the electric magic he had been preparing to unleash as a follow-up.

Unable to gauge the appropriate force at the moment, recklessly firing electric magic would have been madness. He could easily cleave his opponent in two. Electric magic, focused solely on destruction and lethality, wasn’t a wise choice given the situation.

‘I should stick to other types of magic for this exam.’

Of course, he wouldn’t hesitate when facing golems, so this was just a problem for duels against other people. Acel thought this as he approached the swaying Paul.

“…Haaa…”

Even in his precarious state, Paul’s eyes remained sharp. Acel quite liked that venomous gaze. He was the one who ambushed Acel alongside that other brute, but Acel never considered that a bad thing.

Didn’t the supervisor say so? That pillaging was allowed between participants. He was just moving according to the pre-established rules. He didn’t hold a grudge. After all, he grew up in the slums, what would pillaging even mean to him? It was a place where they pulled out people’s organs while they were sleeping.

Borwell was tame by comparison. Acel smirked, stopping just within Paul’s striking range.

A moment of lull. Celine, having composed herself, was chanting another spell, and Sevia, wielding daggers in reverse grip in each hand, crept closer. Her movements were stealthy, but in the space saturated with Acel’s mana, her concealment was meaningless. Everything was within his palm.

“Name?”

Asel ignored Sevia and Celine, directing the question at Paul. Paul, suspicious of the hidden intent behind the words, still answered readily.

“Paul Fedrick.”

“A noble?”

“……Yes.”

“First time seeing a noble. Are most of you so filled with venom?”

“……First time seeing a noble? Did you spend your time training in some mountain?”

Paul let out a dry laugh.

Mages were resources as rare as nobles. Because of that, they often interacted with the nobility, a tendency that grew stronger the higher the mage’s rank.

The mage before him was a sorcerer of a level where it wouldn’t be strange if he were on familiar terms with even the high-ranking nobles.

*That* guy, has never seen a noble before?

“Not a forest. Trained in the city.”

Asel gave a curt reply, and kicked Paul in the abdomen. A kick coated with a barrier, and layered with flames, sent Paul’s body flying backwards, wreathed in fire. While Paul grimaced at the sudden attack, Sevia charged through the flames.

“Die!”

The momentum of her assault was impressive, but her eyes betrayed an undeniable agitation and fear. She was probably unfamiliar with this kind of situation.

Though, of course, he had no intention of being considerate. Asel flicked his fingers, detonating an intangible shockwave centered on himself.

‘Shockwave,’ a low-level impact magic. A spell that would typically only blow away surrounding objects projected a force capable of shaking trees from Asel’s hand. Sevia’s body was thrown back, slamming into a tree.

*Crack!*

“Keugh!”

With the sound of something breaking, Sevia coughed up blood and air. A sneak attack that decided the victory before any actual exchange.

Sevia, blood streaming from her mouth as if a broken bone had pierced an organ, fumbled for her bracelet. Then, a light enveloped her, transporting her to safety.

In an instant, the group had shrunk from five to two. All that remained were a mage with a fried circuit and a vanguard whose body was oozing with burns. What they had to face was a high-ranking sorcerer who was still in perfect condition.

There was no chance of victory.

Paul sighed deeply, raising his shattered hands. Even that simple gesture caused his abused arms to scream in protest.

“Surrender. Shameless of me, but give me a break just once. I want to be admitted.”

“I surrender too.”

As soon as he saw Paul lower his sword, Celine, who had been groaning, shouted. Asel, confirming that the two had completely lost their will to fight, nodded.

“I’ll give you a break, so hand over your cores.”

“……We only have five between us.”

“So?”

“…Haa. Take it. Celine has it.”

Asel chuckled, approaching Celine. She bit her lip, looking resentful, and pulled five cores from her pouch. Cores that shone with a clear, translucent color, a faint magic swirling within. Not fakes. Asel promptly tossed the cores haphazardly into his backpack.

“Only hunted five so far? Guess you didn’t run into many golems.”

“What are you talking about? I had a hard time just finding and taking down the ones that had strayed from the group.”

“Why not just do a group hunt?”

“?”

“?”

The corners of both of their eyes crinkled in similar confusion.

“How are you supposed to do a group hunt? Each one of them is practically a weapon of war.”

“…They are?”

“…Your reaction is strange. How many cores do *you* have?”

“Twenty-five.”

Asel answered, rattling the contents of his backpack with a careless wave of his hand. Celine glanced inside, regarding Asel with an expression that clearly said, *’What in the world is this guy?’*

“…Are you perhaps a Grand Magus?”

“I’m a disciple of one, at least.”

Asel gave a small smile, closing his backpack and turning away from the blazing forest, quickening his pace. “You’d better run. They’re swarming this way.”

“What’s swarmi–”

The words were barely out of her mouth when a clamorous chorus of voices erupted from the forest’s shadows.

“This is where the lightning struck, right?”

“That’s what I’m saying! It’s definitely an event the Academy set up. We need to hurry!”

“Oh, oh! Other b*stards are coming! Run, dammit!”

“Get out of here, you guys! We don’t care if you’re nobles!”

“Hold back Grace! Don’t let her through!”

Chaos bloomed in the midnight forest. Celine gritted her teeth and turned her head toward the approaching shouts. But Asel had already made his escape. Not a single strand of his hair remained visible.

“…Asel, was it?”

She mulled over the proctor’s words from before the start of the exam, rising to her feet. After collecting her polearm, she liberally poured a self-regenerating potion onto her wound, forcing herself upright. The two women exchanged a glance, then fled as quickly as they could in the opposite direction of the approaching voices.

The first day of the exam ended, like that, in utter disarray.