"I'll take on all four of them."
"Excuse ?" Erika blinked, utterly dumbfounded by Jas' words.
"You heard . I can take all four of them. Now, can you step off the field?" Jas twirled the dull training sword in his grip.
"Mr. Grayling… I'm afraid I can't—"
"You're the professor. Of course, you can." He cut her off with a casual shrug. "I've been transferred here by the Headmistress herself. Do you really think I'm weak enough to lose against these weaklings?" He laughed, tilting his head toward his opponents.
The four students imdiately groaned in protest.
"Let us fight, Professor!"
"Yeah, he wants to do it anyway!"
Even they tried convincing Erika.
Jas waved a hand dismissively. "I'll take full responsibility. Besides"—he lifted his arm, revealing the bracer strapped to his wrist—"I have this. So, what's there to worry about?" The device was designed to summon a mana shield, preventing serious injuries.
Erika hesitated. She wasn't convinced, but Jas looked too confident for her to argue further. With a sigh, she relented. "Fine." She stepped aside.
"Hah! You should've just listened to the professor and taken the help, Jas." One of Lucas' lackeys sneered.
"Right! Now we'll make you beg!"
Jas rolled his eyes. "I've heard enough of your third-rate villain lines. Just shut up and fight." He waved them forward impatiently.
That was enough to push them over the edge. Furious, all four charged at him.
The first attacker lunged, swinging his sword. Jas, however, didn't even look concerned. He waited—purposefully letting the blade co dangerously close—before lazily stepping aside at the last possible second.
The smirk on his opponent's face vanished.
"Try harder," Jas snickered. Then, without hesitation, he raised his leg.
—BAM!
"AGH!" The student let out a choked cry as Jas' kick sent him flying across the arena. His body slamd into the wall at high speed—
The mana shield activated instantly, cushioning the impact and preventing serious harm.
From behind, Jas sensed movent. Three arrows whistled toward him. Without bothering to turn around, he casually deflected them mid-air with a flick of his sword.
The archer stood frozen, mouth hanging open in disbelief.
Jas shook his head. "You guys are embarrassingly weak. I wouldn't even hire you to clean my ship."
"S-Shut it!!" Lucas' right-hand man finally caught up, his sword glowing with mana as he swung at Jas with all his might.
"Oh, look who's finally here—whitford's loyal lapdog." Jas chuckled, raising his empty hand.
Mana particles flickered around him as he caught the dull blade barehanded.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"N–No way…" Theresa muttered, eyes wide in disbelief.
Even Erika was stunned. She had seen many students try to show off before, but never had anyone dared to pull a stunt like this.
But the one most shaken? The swordsman himself. His arrogant smirk shattered the mont his blade stopped cold in Jas' grasp.
Jas' smirk only deepened. He tightened his grip—tighter, tighter—
—CRACK!
With a single, crushing squeeze, the blade snapped like brittle glass.
A stunned silence fell over the stadium.
Mouths hung open. Eyes stretched wide. Nobody could process what had just happened.
Before his opponent could react, Jas struck—his hand flashing forward at inhuman speed, clamping around the man's throat.
Lifting him easily, Jas tightened his grip.
"Mr. Grayling!" Erika's voice rang out in warning.
Jas cast her a quick glance—then let go.
Or so it seed.
Before his opponent could catch his breath—
—BAM!
Jas' fist slamd into his gut.
"Aghh—!" The impact folded the student like a crumpled piece of paper before launching him backward.
The bracer activated midair, wrapping him in a mana shield before he crashed.
Two left.
Jas turned toward the archer.
The poor guy froze. The mont their eyes t, he panicked, fumbling to draw his bow. His fingers barely loosed the arrow before—
—Whooosh!
But Jas caught it mid-flight and threw it away.
With a small smile, he turned to the last remaining swordsman.
That one had seen enough as he turned around to run away.
"I GIVE UP—!"
—THUD!
Before the words fully left his mouth, Jas flicked his dull sword like a throwing knife. It smacked into the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
Now, only one remained.
The archer dropped his bow imdiately.
"I–I give up!" He stuttered, hands raised in surrender.
But Jas couldn't care less as he took a step forward—
And vanished.
Before the archer could react, Jas was right in front of him.
—BAM!
A brutal punch landed square on his face, breaking his nose and launching him across the field.
And just like that—
It was over.
His four opponents lay sprawled across the ground, either unconscious or groaning in pain.
"Not even worthy of a morning stretch," Jas muttered, shaking his head in disappointnt. He had expected more of a challenge.
Back in his world, he was used to fighting for survival—killing, stealing, and navigating the deadly waters of the Atlantic, Caribbean and diterranean Seas, constantly hunted by rival pirates, the Royal Navy, and the French and Spanish fleets.
"Can I fight again?" Jas asked, turning to Erika. She stood frozen, struggling to process what she had just witnessed. Was this really just a talented student, handpicked by the Headmistress?
…
…
Two hours later, class finally ended—but Jas never got another fight. Erika never explained why. She didn't say anything at all. Instead, she left in a hurry, making a beeline for the Headmistress's office. She needed answers. Who exactly was this new student?
Jas, anwhile, hadn't bothered watching any of the matches. He was stretched out across a row of seats, legs propped up on the chair in front of him, arms folded behind his head, eyes closed. He wasn't asleep—he couldn't sleep anymore, not since Ivan and the other Antagonists had robbed him of that ability. He was simply resting, letting his mind wander between everything and nothing.
Eventually, as Erika disappeared, the rest of the students trickled out as well—though nearly all of them threw him a glance on their way. After what he had done, Jas was bound to be the talk of the academy. It didn't help that everyone had seen him hanging around Angel Elysphira, either.
"Hey."
A voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Jas didn't bother opening his eyes. "Hm."
"Fight ."
He recognized the voice instantly—Travis.
Jas smirked slightly. "Not interested."
"What? Are you scared?"
Jas chuckled. "Scared? I wiped the forest's grass with you without even trying, and you think I'm scared?"
"You caught off guard," Travis said coldly.
Jas opened his eyes, locking onto Travis, who stood before him with a cold expression. Travis was a Protagonist—one who despised losing. Whenever he was bested, he trained harder until he could surpass his opponent.
"You'd need a hundred years of training before you could even scratch ," Jas said.
"What?" Travis frowned, stepping forward, but before he could get closer, a hand grabbed his arm.
"Travis…" Theresa called him softly trying to stop him from picking fight.
Travis clenched his fists, his teeth clenching in annoyance before he turned and stord off.
Theresa watched him go before shifting her gaze to Jas. "Why are you doing this?"
Jas raised an eyebrow. "Can't I even rest? And who exactly are you?"
"I—I'm not asking about that!" she snapped. "The other day, you hurt Travis even though you were on his side. Why?"
Jas shrugged. "Because he pissed off. Normally, people who piss off don't live to tell the tale. Be glad I let your man walk away with only a few broken ribs and not his head twisted."
"You—You… are you serious?" Theresa blurted out shocked.
Jas smirked and stood up, towering over her. "I never lie, lass."
Theresa suddenly felt Jas' strong presence. She had only ever observed him from afar, where his aura was already overwhelming—but standing this close, it was sothing else entirely.
Jas leaned in slightly, his breath warmly and softly brushing against her ear. "Tell sothing, woman."
"W-What?"
His lips curled into a smirk. "How does it feel to beg for a man's affection when he doesn't even see you as a woman?"
"…!"
Theresa froze, her cheeks flushing red—not just from anger, but from frustration. She had no coback.
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Jas laughed. "Well, good luck with that," he said, before walking off.
As he moved, his eyes briefly t Erion Mistral's. Erion had been watching his sister, but then his gaze flicked to Jas. Unlike Travis, he didn't glare—his expression was more of a scowl.
For now, the main characters were scattered, almost at each other's throats. But Jas knew that, eventually, certain events in the novel would force them to grow closer.
Not that he cared. To him, they were just ants.
His mind was elsewhere—far beyond this academy, beyond this continent.
Zelandia.
A continent across the sea, where a peculiar wedding was about to take place. An alliance between two empires—Solaria and Lunaria—nations that had spent centuries at war, now bound together by a marriage alliance.
And Ivan planned to infiltrate it.
The reason? Krainel Salvador would be attending. And in his possession would be another book of Asmodeus.
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