After placing Isabella gently on the bed and tucking her in, Alan quietly returned to the great hall.
Seeing Alan co back, Francis trembled slightly—afraid he might start beating him again.
He honestly didn't have the strength to keep tangling with Alan anymore.
Alan walked up to him and extended a hand. "Sorry about earlier."
Francis let out a huge sigh of relief.
"I knew it! I didn't provoke your sister or anything! She saw how badly I was hurt and just started crying on her own."
He reached out and let Alan pull him up from the ground.
Then, eyeing Alan curiously, he asked, "What spell did you use just now? That was terrifying!"
"Light Sword Spell," Alan replied.
"Light elent, huh? No wonder it was so fast and aggressive. I couldn't defend against it at all!" Francis said, visibly more relaxed.
Getting beaten by both Alice and Alan in such a short ti was a major blow to his pride.
Alice was on another level entirely, sure. But Alan? In his mind, Alan was supposed to be on par with him—or even far below.
Yet now he'd been completely crushed.
And he'd only just arrived in the capital—hadn't even had ti to shine before being totally suppressed.
Still, Alan was no ordinary prodigy either.
Alan, in turn, asked, "What skill did you use earlier? You moved like the wind."
Francis grinned smugly. "Unlike most mages, I wield a unique elent outside of the four basics—gravity. I can negate gravity, making myself light as a feather."
"In that state, even basic movent techniques beco incredibly fast. Very few can match in speed."
"If I didn't have that, there's no way I'd have dodged your Light Sword Spell."
Hearing that, Alan felt even more apologetic. "Sorry again."
Francis waved him off cheerfully. "Ah, it's not entirely your fault. Your sister saw all banged up and started crying. I thought I'd cheer her up by saying you were even more pitiful than . But she just cried harder."
"…??"
Alan blinked in confusion.
Just then, a burly man ca walking up the path from the foot of the mountain. He had a rugged, mature face and radiated an intimidating, bandit-like aura.
Francis was startled. He had always thought of himself as brawny, his body rippling with muscle.
But compared to this guy?
He looked small.
And the sheer ferocity pouring off the man made Francis's skin crawl.
"Who the hell is this guy?" Francis muttered, scratching his head.
Alan thought for a mont. "I think he might be the final student Headmaster Gayle ntioned."
Though he looked older, his eyes were clear and youthful. His true age likely didn't match his appearance.
"How about you test his strength?" Francis suddenly said excitedly. "Call it a welco ceremony."
Alan nodded slightly. "You go first."
Francis shrugged. "Fine, fine, I'll go first."
He took a deep breath, picked up a sturdy wooden stick from the ground, tested its weight, and felt satisfied.
Black light surged around him again, his body becoming light and nimble, while the stick in his hand hardened like steel.
Bang!
In the blink of an eye, he dashed behind the brawny man and swung the stick toward the back of his head with a howling gust.
But the man didn't even flinch. Golden elental light shimred across his body, making him look like a miniature golden statue.
Francis's strike landed squarely—
And he was the one sent flying!
His hand went numb from the impact, as if he had just slamd into a steel wall.
The man turned to glare at Francis. His bright eyes held a flicker of killing intent.
Francis steadied himself and knew he couldn't take this guy alone. He quickly turned to Alan and shouted:
"He's got a skull of steel—help out here!"
Alan stepped forward calmly. The burly man tensed up.
But Alan smiled. "I'm also a student of Sirius Academy. Welco aboard."
Francis froze, thunderstruck.
The burly man sensed no hostility from Alan and smiled back. "Thank you."
Then he looked back at Francis, expression hardening. Like a hungry tiger, he lunged toward him.
What the hell?! Francis thought. I don't even know you! Why'd you co at with that monster punch?!
As the man charged, Francis's pupils shrank, and he turned to flee, shouting over his shoulder:
"Alan, you traitor!"
Monts later, the lush mountain forest was filled with the sound of Francis's wailing screams.
…
Ti passed quickly, and soon it was midday.
Gayle and Blanche sat on either side of the stone table in the main hall.
Gayle was lounging back, guzzling wine with a glazed expression.
Blanche, gripping a dagger in reverse grip, looked on edge—her hunger palpable.
The burly man sat formally and upright.
Across from him, Francis sat covered in bruises and black eyes, beaten nearly senseless.
The man had shown no rcy. If Francis hadn't been sturdy, he might still be unconscious on the floor.
Not long after, Alan and Isabella walked in carrying a large roasting tray, placing it on the stone table.
As soon as it was set down—
Blanche's dagger flashed, and a sizzling piece of at was already off the bone and in her hand, devoured in savage bites.
Gayle's glazed eyes lit up. He leapt onto his chair and grabbed a huge hunk of at with his bare hands—ignoring the heat—and started eating it with wine.
Francis and the brawny man were stunned.
But their stomachs were rumbling too, and they quickly grabbed knives to carve their share.
Blanche's at wasn't even gone before she was already slicing the next cut. She moved like the wind.
Seeing this, Gayle frowned. "A young lady like you, have so restraint! Who taught you such bad habits?"
Despite his words, he was also shoveling at into his plate, hands moving just as fast.
Alan and Isabella watched the chaos quietly—they had already eaten.
After the noisy feast, Gayle picked at his teeth with his little pinky fingernail and glanced around the table.
"Well, now that we're full, let take this chance to introduce the new student."
He looked at the burly man.
"His na is Fort, from Mist Wood in the northern Plantagenet Kingdom. He has a special Sharp tal Bloodline."
A special bloodline?!
Everyone turned to Fort in unison.
They'd already sensed sothing unusual about him, but to hear it confird was still surprising.
Special elental bloodlines were extrely rare—even within the Plantagenet Kingdom.
Fort looked around at them, pride flashing in his clear eyes.
Then he saw Francis.
His gaze shifted to hostile.
Francis, in turn, glared at Alan.
Alan pretended not to notice.
Gayle now looked at Francis, shirtless and battered.
"His na is Francis, from Sunset Marsh. He possesses the rare gravity elent, giving him natural advantages in speed and strength."
Alan's eyes sharpened.
This guy was definitely no pushover.
From what he'd shown earlier, Alan could tell that Francis's speed was off the charts. And if gravity enhanced his strength too, then he must be extrely dangerous.
But Francis hadn't shown that side yet.
Then Francis suddenly lifted his head proudly, swan-like, and pointed at Alan.
"What about this guy?"
Gayle replied flatly, "That's Alan, from House Roan in the Northern District. He's a Grand Magus."
A Magus?! A Grand Magus?!
Everyone turned to stare at Alan, stunned.
Magus-class professions required insane talent and were exceedingly rare. In all the long history of the Plantagenet Kingdom, there had only been one Magus.
And Alan looked so young…
A Grand Magus already?
Wasn't it said that Magi were the strongest class, but also the hardest to cultivate?
Then Francis suddenly rembered sothing and burst out laughing.
"Alan? Alan! Wait—you're that so-called reject from Lioncrest Academy, aren't you?!"
Isabella's blue eyes widened in fury.
"My brother's a genius, not a reject! And you're not allowed to eat any more of the barbecue we make!"
Fort nodded. "Starve him twice and he'll learn his lesson."
Francis quickly backtracked. "No, no! I ant Lioncrest Academy are the idiots! How could they not see how talented Alan is?! They're all fools!"
Isabella finally smiled.
Francis let out a relieved sigh. Honestly, Alan and Isabella's barbecue was irreplaceable—he couldn't go without it.
Gayle cleared his throat and continued, "There's a library deep in the valley, filled with old magical notes and spellbooks left behind by our predecessors. What you find there will depend on your luck."
"But odds are… you won't find much."
"Why not?" Francis asked.
Gayle scratched the back of his head. "Well, agave liquor keeps getting more expensive. We had to trade so books for booze."
Francis's jaw dropped.
Gayle, looking unbothered, continued, "Oh right, one more thing I nearly forgot."
He slapped his forehead.
"Just a friendly reminder: Sirius Academy has a long-standing grudge with Lioncrest Academy. Every three years, we hold life-and-death duels between our students."
"If you die, your corpse gets strung up beneath the Sky Ladder. So… do your best."
"You've got about a year and a half. After that—live or die—it's up to your own strength."
With that, he turned to leave.
But just before he walked away, he paused again and said:
"…Oh, and one more thing!"
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