SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar-Novel

“Do you not want to surrender?”

This question seemed to play within the mind of the nervous new challenger. A hint of hesitation showed on the boy’s face, but soon after, it disappeared entirely.

“N-no! You may be stronger than me… and you are most likely going to win this match, but… how can I call myself a man if I don’t face you with everything I’ve got!”

His response seemed to strike a chord within Edward.

“I’ve come this far! I might as well see things through to the bitter end!”

Edward smiled upon hearing the boy’s statement. It was most likely a result of kindred spirits resonating due to their simar ideals.

“Very well. Come, Xavier! I shall fight you as a warrior and a man!”

I rolled my eyes at the sight. Only an idiot like Edward would appreciate pointlessly fighting once loss was inevitable. I only saw it as foolishness.

Edward’s sword style wasn’t something the Xavier boy could understand and even learn if they crossed blades, and it would most likely be over in an instant, so what was the point of the battle?

Pride? Ego? Chivalry? It was all inconsequential anyway. The stronger one would win, and there was nothing anyone could do to change that!

*********************

“Winner, Edward Karl Leon!”

As expected, it was a pointless match.

Edward finished everything in a single hit, refusing to hold back. I was certain he did this out of respect for the opponent’s resolve, but what was the point? The boy fell unconscious with a single hit!

Edward moved closer to Xavier and nodded in what I could only deem to be respect. He raised his sword and made a loud declaration.

“You are by far the greatest opponent I have fought since the start of this Exchange!”

The crowd gave gasps of shock and his words sparked controversy among everyone who heard.

What of Eben Lustriel whom he fought earlier? Compared to his great Sword Arts, this competitor was merely fodder, yet he had the gall to declare him the greatest?

The shocked and displeased spectators whispered in gossip, sending hushed noises permeating the hall.

‘Gah! That idiot!’ I winced, rubbing my head in embarrassment.

Why did he have to go that far?

Still, though, I had to appreciate his conviction to an extent. Whether his actions were right or not, the fact that he stuck by them no matter what… that was what made Edward a true Martial Artist!

Looking at him now, as he raised his blade and smiled in his declaration, the boy reminded me of Gawain Lenard. He was a man who loved booze more than I did, and relished in promiscuity. Yet, he never once denied his actions.

He proudly confessed his love for wine and women, showing no shame at all. In the same vein, Edward was flaunting his flawed way of thinking and not feeling the least bit sorry about it.

Even if both their philosophies had dangers hidden in them, their spirit was admirable.

‘That idiot… oh well, this is his path, after all!’

A Martial Artist must be one with pride, as well as a practitioner of the art of shamelessness!

Those were the words of my close friend, the Greatest Swordsman in the Eastern Kingdom—Sword God, Gawain.

As I relished in my thoughts, Edward left the stage and Klaus continued his announcement.

“We will now begin the Scholars’ round!”

*********************

The Scholars’ round elapsed and, as expected, only the Upper Class and Middle-Class students were able to qualify.

I had no doubts on the matter since they were obviously the ones with the greater talents in the art of Scholarship.

Anabelle was an exception, a rare gem to be found in the Lower Class, but I doubted anyone would be stupid enough to falsify their skills in order to intentionally be placed in a Lower Class.

After the Scholars’ round, the Second Years took the stage.

Their baffles were fiercer than ours for the most part.

Since they also had a number of talented students, the Spells and skills they displayed far outstripped the performance we showed.

I had already realized, since yesterday, that there was a wide margin between the abilities of the First Years and Second Years.

Of course, after watching and watching, I arrived at the conclusion that I would be able to defeat any of them—whether in Martial Arts or Magic!

Scholarship was no question at all, so I didn’t even bother comparing myself with the noobs of the craft.

The skill and experience of our seniors were not the only things that were different about their round and ours.

The battle and results of their contest were incredibly one-sided! It was almost too painful to watch!

The Magic Division, Martial Arts Division, and even the Scholarship Division!

The matches were either won by the Upper-Class students, or those of the Middle Class!

It made me nearly feel pity for my Lower Class seniors—how they were put down despite their miserable efforts at victory.

It was a painful reminder of the difference in status between those of higher rank, and the bottom-feeders.

In the end, of the eight who advanced to the Semi-Finals in the Magic Division, all five of the Upper Class were present, and three Middle Class were included. Of the Martial Artists, one Middle Class, and one Upper-Class student made it through.

The same also applied to the Scholar Division.

The only reason the Middle-Class Students were even present was because all the number of the Upper Class had been exhausted. Their spot was more of a consolatory prize and not the actual thing.

As if that wasn’t enough, the matches got even more brutal once it was time for the Third Years to compete.

I had never seen such a one-sided battle in Ainzlark Academy—such great disparity between talent! Even though I could sense great hard work coming from the side of the Lower Class and even Middle Class, the Upper ones still dominated!

Of course, those known as the Elite Ten were not to participate in the matches until the final day, but still… to think this was how large the margin was!

It made me extremely sick to my stomach and anger began appearing in my eyes.

‘This… something is fundamentally wrong about this!’