How to Survive at the Academy

Joint Combat Training 2 (5)

A calamity looms in the sky. The roar unleashed by the dragon scrapes through our eardrums.

“Aaaaaah!”

“Run! Everyone run! We need to get off this island!”

Panicked students begin to bolt towards the living quarters connected by the Macexus Bridge.

While everyone flees in terror, I swallow hard and gaze up at the sky.

The Starforge Dragon Belvbrock lifts a massive claw, ushering in a colossal storm.

It’s not magic. Merely a physical phenomenon. Just a swipe of its paw is enough to alter the island’s air currents.

― Kwang! Kang!

A scraping noise.

Or rather, it was more akin to an explosion.

Belvbrock’s paw, having brushed aside the living quarters from afar, is followed by the immense storm.

And just like that, half of the living quarters vanish. It all happens in an instant.

Buildings that should be grounded are airborne, and occasionally, people too are caught in the turmoil, spinning helplessly through the void.

The extent of casualties is unimaginable. Surely, the numbers will be significant.

If Belvbrock’s assault caused deaths, it was because they were in the living quarters when the lifting occurred.

Conversely, those of us in the faculty area are only alive due to sheer luck.

Had Belvbrock struck the faculty area first, students there would have undoubtedly perished.

Just one strike.

Just one swing of its leg sends students tumbling down, caught in pandemonium; trampled, injured, limbs broken.

“Uaaaah!”

“What are you doing, get up…!”

“I… I can’t… I just can’t….”

Some students grit their teeth and flee, but most are incapable of uttering a word, merely staring at the sky.

They all share the same thought. Is there any chance of survival if we run? Or are we as good as dead already?

― Taat!

Kicking off from the ground, I take out a golden ring from my pocket – the ‘Golden Phoenix Ring of Glastrath’.

I push myself to draw out every ounce of magic power, not knowing my limit. It’s a risky item with severe penalties, requiring careful use.

But now is not the time for caution. I must employ every resource at my disposal.

The extent of the backlash was uncertain. It could negate my magic for years, burn away my sense to wield it, or even threaten my life.

Nonetheless, doing nothing ensures death.

“Krrrrrk!”

Teeth clenched, I endure the physical strain of the overload. Yet my pace towards escape does not falter.

― Whoooosh!

I release mana into my surroundings, fully summoning the high spirit of wind, Merilda.

Under normal circumstances, just summoning such a spirit in human form for efficiency would strain me greatly.

But, sacrificing my future to gather magic at its brink, I have enough left even after summoning the wolf-like spirit.

― Caaacck!

Merilda fully materializes with a cry. The wolf, large as a house, remains as imposing as ever.

“Where’s Eunica?”

[I don’t know…! She should still be at the training ground… For now, we’ll have to entrust her to Takan…!]

― Kwooooom!

Another overwhelming roar echoes; it’s the dragon above us.

― Whooosh.

Rain falls. But it’s no ordinary rain.

Dragon scales pour from the sky. It’s like watching an old blockbuster war movie, where armies fire massive volleys of arrows.

The dense scales falling from heaven mercilessly strike the earth.

― Kwang! Kagagagagagagaaa!

Marble fragments scatter, trees tumble, benches and fountains near the squares shatter, and the glass in buildings needn’t be mentioned.

I pour excess mana into a defensive spell, but it’s breached almost immediately.

― Whoooosh!

However, the blowing winds deflect the scales. It’s the blessing of the whirlwind, a passive skill that feels futile having deflected a lethal blow without any effort.

[Krrrrk!]

Merilda, having just about deflected the scales directed at her, groans before speaking.

[Where are we going?! Are we joining Eunica?!]

“No, there’s something I must check first…!”

I had to find why the scenario’s final boss, Belvbrock, chose now to emerge.

I couldn’t just let events unfold without interference. I resolved to deal with the situation as best as I could, without relying on predetermined outcomes.

But the situation had twisted far beyond what I’d considered manageable.

If the scenario had indeed been altered, the catalyst was likely me. Realizing the cause might give me a way to put the dragon back to sleep.

But time was scarce and my options were limited.

“Kuk!”

Firmly holding back tears, I pulled dragon scales lodged in my body. A scale removed from my shoulder bounced a few times on the ground along with droplets of blood.

Currently, the third act is ongoing. That means I must check on its main characters first. It’s unlikely characters introduced later would already affect the third act.

First to come to mind are Adel and Clarise. Predicting Adel’s whereabouts might be hard, but I knew where to find Clarise.

“Let’s head straight for Trix Hall!”

Pain shoots up from the ring on my finger. The price for wielding magic beyond allowed limits is inescapable; I’ve only postponed the inevitable.

Nevertheless, I have no choice. Mounting the strained Merilda, I focus every drop of magic power into restraining myself.

* * *

“You must flee, Saintess!”

Two cathedral knights burst into the conference room with a bang, their voices tinged with desperation.

“The current situation outside is….”

“Ah… I’m aware. Please take the others and hurry… move quickly…!!”

Clarise had just witnessed the situation outside the window. An impossible-sized dragon that should only exist in myths now looms over Slyvenia Academy.

She jumps up from her spot, but an earthquake strikes Trix Hall the moment she rises—ripples from Belvbrock’s decimation of the living quarters.

“Aaaaaah!”

Clarise screams, slipping to the ground, while the knights grapple for balance.

Office supplies and documents from the conference table scatter over the floor, antique paintings crash down, and decorative glass shatters. Even the windows crack open, failing to fulfill their purpose.

“Saintess, take my hand…! We’ll escort you to the carriage outside… Urk…!”

― Whoooosh!

A protective layer of sacred magic, the Saintess’ shield, activates. As Clarise feels its embrace, a chill runs down her spine.

Turning, she sees dragon scales embedded near the Saintess’ spine. Suffering only minor cuts on her skin, the shield had mostly neutralized the scales’ force.

The small prodigy mage, Lucy Mayrill, after being struck by the dragon’s barrage and thrown onto the mid-flank of Oren Mountain, gets up again, casting off the impact, and launches herself back into the sky. Headmaster Obel, encircled by a whirlwind of an impossible amount of mana, chants high-level elemental magic, shining as brightly as fireworks—visible from anywhere on Acken Island.

“Ugh, kuh…”

Collapsing halfway up the hill of Trix Tower, Clarice realized there was nothing she could do. She swallowed her tears, biting her lip, and trying to think of an alternative way out.

If there was no horse, she’d have to walk—make her way to the Maxes Bridge somehow. But just as she tried to force herself to stand,

—Hwaaaaaaaak!

A different, warmer wind began to gently spread from the middle of the hillside path. It was the arrival of a huge wolf running in haste. The wolf, as large as a house, landed lightly and immediately lay down to make it easier for Edgar to disembark.

Jumping down from the wolf’s back, Edgar approached Clarice, who was slumped around the dead horse.

“Ed, Edgar… sir…”

“You’re unharmed, Saintess.”

Edgar himself didn’t look too well. Signs of injury from the scales were present, and the strain of mana exhaustion was evident on his face.

Still, his effort to rush here impressed Clarice, though it made her voice quiver,

“How… how did you know I was here…”

“I saw you as I ran toward Trix Tower. The royal guests should have been meeting here. There’s no time for detailed conversation.”

Edgar firmly grasped Clarice’s wrist, pulling her to her feet. Unaccustomed to being manhandled, Clarice was surprised by her own body’s lightness as she was hoisted up.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, I’m… I was going to ride the horse to… Maxes… Bridge…”

“There’s no point in heading to Maxes Bridge now. It’s chaotic, and trying to leave the island that way means certain death. There’s a logjam of people trying to flee.”

Edgar had witnessed the crisis at Maxes Bridge while running toward the highlands with the wolf, Merilda. Considering the urgency, Clarice hadn’t noticed, but now Hearkening to Edgar, she asked,

“What about the other bridges?”

“They’re just the same. And even if we run in that direction, we’re still within the dragon’s reach.”

The thought of escaping seemed insignificant if Velbrooke decided to obliterate the island immediately. Overwhelmed by fear, Clarice nearly teared up.

Edgar quickly wiped her tears with his shirt sleeve, still clutching her wrist as he began to walk,

“We’d better evacuate to a relatively safe location.”

“Safe location…?”

“None other than Orphelis Tower. It’s wrapped in high-level defensive magic. Normally inactive but activated from the control room by Maid Chief Bell Maiyer in such circumstances.”

Even high-level defense spells wouldn’t stand a chance against Velbrooke’s might, yet they would at least mitigate the risk of being caught in the scales’ storm or other magical fallout.

For Edgar, heading to Orphelis Tower was the best option.

“Now that the Saintess is secure and there’s no visible danger, Adele would be next to find, but she’s not easy to track.”

If Adele couldn’t be found, checking on other key individuals was the next best step—Orphelis Tower was the gathering place for many such individuals.

“That’s… Understandable…”

“Saintess Clarice. Brace yourself.”

Edgar’s grip on Clarice’s wrist tightened, leaving a red mark. Feeling his resolve, she steeled her pain and found the strength to keep going.

Edgar then hoisted Clarice onto Merilda’s neck. With elbows anchored below, Clarice clung to the wolf’s fur and managed to climb up to its back. Edgar quickly leaped aboard as well.

“Hold on tight.”

With Clarice gripping onto Merilda’s fur, Edgar braced the Saintess’s back with his elbow. Merilda then bolted towards the still-intact living quarters, where Orphelis Tower stood.