Alright, let’s dive into the comedic translation:
—
If I were to summarize Emily’s words, it boiled down to this:
She’s pretty good at using cold magic.
“Hmm…”
To figure this out, I had to endure countless stories from Emily about experiments and studies, but at least I now had a conclusion, so I couldn’t complain. Besides, if cold magic is anything like fire magic, it’s super advantageous in battle.
I wasn’t exactly sure how skilled Emily was, but if the Grade Competition involved combat-related events, her cold magic could be a massive asset to our party.
Here’s how I envisioned it: Elaine would hold the front line like a fortress, Emily would suppress the opponent’s movement with her cold magic from mid-range, and Cynthia would finish them off with arrows.
And what about me?
I figured I could just stand back and watch all of this unfold peacefully.
While lost in thought, we somehow ended up in front of Professor Amillion’s lab.
Knock knock.
“Yes.”
Before I even had a chance to knock twice, Professor Amillion had already replied. It was sharp, like he’d known I was coming all along.
Creak…
Professor Amillion looked up as the door opened, saying, “Ah, Ryu.”
“Yes, I’m here about the Grade Competition roster.”
Just as I said this, a figure slouched over a desk caught my attention. Professor Amillion looked worse than he did in the morning, eyes bloodshot, frantically scanning documents as if hoping they’d magically disappear.
Watching him reminded me of myself before I delegated everything to Eddi. It was like staring into my own past, wrestling endlessly with approvals, forms, and checklists.
Poor guy.
“Ah, right,” Professor Amillion said. “Roster…how’s it going?”
“Four members.”
“…”
A long, drawn-out sigh escaped him. For a brief moment, his eyes sparkled with hope, only for it to shatter the moment I said “four.” With a dramatic flourish, he tossed his pen onto the desk.
“Uh, is there a problem?”
“No, no issues at all procedurally. The first-year roster selection comes first, there’s no restriction on the number of participants, and any penalties related to the S-Class instructors’ performance based on competition results don’t concern the students.”
“What?”
“…”
Something was definitely riding on this Grade Competition.
“Alright, four members. You, Ryu, plus Elaine St. Claire and Surplus. And the last member?”
“Emlyn Franz. We’re finally all set!”
“…”
“…So, that’s four of us!”
“Don’t you seem excited?”
“Me?!”
“…Sigh. Alright, understood. Four members it is. This is probably going to be the smallest group in the Grade Competition’s history for first-years.”
“Ooooh. A new record! That’s great!”
“…”
Professor Amillion’s body momentarily tensed into a fist, but then relaxed almost instantly as he swept a hand through his hair.
Now that the team was set, I figured I could leave.
“But wait,” he called out.
“Hm?”
The professor stopped me as I turned to leave. He looked at me closely, not just casually glancing but scanning me with mana-infused eyes.
“Got time for a quick chat?”
“Uh, out of the blue?”
“Yes, as your instructor, I’d like to hold a consultation with you.”
“Uh, sure.”
Not like I had anything better to do, so I nodded. He immediately stood up, looking positively refreshed as he instructed me to head outside with him, grabbing his coat.
Something was off—this felt less like a consultation and more like an escape from paperwork.
—
Consultation: The Professor’s Hidden Agenda
“This…is where you usually hold student consultations?”
“Not necessarily. It depends on the situation.”
We arrived at the S-Class Training Ground, and as Ryu voiced his curiosity aloud, the professor brushed it off casually.
“So… What situation is this?”
“…”
‘This student doesn’t act like a typical student… especially not a commoner student,’ Professor Amillion thought.
Since the first day, Amillion had noticed how different Ryu was. Most commoner students he’d seen struggled to adapt among the nobles, often isolating themselves—or even dropping out when the pressure became too much. While the academy preached equality, it was all talk. Commoners naturally feared the nobles, while the nobles openly looked down on them. That wall was a solid presence within the academy itself.
But Ryu? Ryu was different.
Despite being a commoner, he was pals with Elaine St. Claire, an elite from one of the six great families, no less. He’d even knocked out Cain Hover. As for professor-student interactions, Ryu handled himself with ease and confidence—almost too much ease.
It was like Ryu wasn’t fresh meat but someone with years of real-world experience joining the academy.
“Since you’re the current first-year representative and will participate in the Grade Competition, I need to evaluate you to better instruct you in the future.”
“Ohhh… So you’ll be training me personally?”
“Yes. Your three teammates will join as well. Once the schedule is finalized, expect daily afternoon sessions with me.”
“Wow, sounds great.”
‘Still acting so chill,’ Amillion thought, though he was starting to find Ryu’s levity endearing.
“I’ve already seen your submitted goals—you aim to be a wizard.”
“Yep! I may be new here, but I want to grow into a wizard like the rest!”
“You used martial arts during the entrance exam, though, didn’t you?”
“That’s true, but since I’m here, I want to try my hand at magic and grow as a wizard.”
“’Try my hand at magic?’”
“Ah, learn magic.”
Amillion felt his inner rage bubble up at Ryu’s casual attitude towards magic. To treat the profound and beautiful study of magic like some casual hobby was heresy in his eyes.
Magic is the most divine and respected art in all of Arkaria. Anyone who truly understood magic’s depths would never speak of it so flippantly.
“Alright then, let’s begin the consultation. By way of sparring.”
“…Wait, now?”
“Yes, don’t worry—I won’t attack first. Just dodge or counter your strikes.”
“Hmm. Alright, if you say so.”
“Please give it your best shot so I can properly assess your skills.”
This wasn’t what Amillion originally planned. He’d thought to just observe Ryu’s teleportation magic and test the power behind his mana-infused punches. But something in Ryu’s words ignited his temper. While other aspects could be forgiven, dismissing magic as just another tool was something Amillion couldn’t tolerate. It wasn’t about relieving stress—it was about principle.
“Ready? Begin.”
Amillion stepped onto the circular arena and faced Ryu. Ryu, still unsure but sensing the professor’s seriousness, shrugged and followed suit.
Once Ryu adjusted his stance, Amillion channeled mana into his eyes, sharpening his vision. He was known as the ‘Piercing Gaze’ for a reason—reading through an opponent’s intentions in combat was his forte.
Predict, evade, counter—his style was precise and calculated.
But deep down, Amillion’s pride as a mage simmered.
‘Impressive. He’s channeling mana at an alarming rate.’
Instead of focusing on the fight, Amillion concentrated on Ryu’s mana flow. A shield or teleportation spell at this level would require coating the entire body in mana…
And he was confident—if Ryu teleported, he’d appear behind him for a surprise attack.
‘If I sense mana from behind, I’ll dodge—’
“Eh!”
Whoosh!
Instinctively, Amillion darted forward to avoid Ryu’s punch that tore through the air.
‘What the—’
Before Amillion could fully process what just happened, Ryu struck again.
Ryu’s right jab missed, but his left hand followed in swift succession.
Tch!
Twisting his body, Amillion spun away to create distance.
‘What…how?’
Amillion couldn’t make sense of it. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Ryu, yet… he hadn’t seen it.
Gulp.
Only a contradictory statement could describe the feeling.
“Professor, you really do have keen instincts!”
Whoosh!
“Again?!”
The Piercing Gaze had failed! Ryu’s teleportation magic was impenetrable.
—
And so, the comedy unfolds…
