Alex was already somewhat famous within the academy.
It had started with the Wilderness Survival Training. No one had expected much from a first-year Knight student—certainly not one without a proper background. And yet, when the final tallies were released, Alex had taken first place in the individual rankings.
That alone had been enough to spark discussion.
Because of that, his participation in the Knight division of the tournament was… acceptable.
The real issue lay elsewhere.
His inclusion in the Magic division.
The shock of Elena's announcement had yet to fully settle, but disbelief was already curdling into scrutiny. So what if he could use magic now? That alone didn't earn him a place among them. Magic wasn't a switch to be flipped—it was a discipline honed over years, shaped by study, lineage, and relentless practice.
And that was where Helena Scarlet stepped forward.
Vivianne's younger cousin from a side branch of the Scarlet family, Helena carried herself with unmistakable pride. Her crimson hair—lighter than Vivianne's but no less striking—was styled in half-up, half-down pigtails, each bound with ribbon clasps that bounced faintly as she moved. Her red eyes burned with competitive fire, sharp and unyielding.
She wanted to see for herself whether Alex truly belonged in the Magic division.
Helena's gaze locked onto him, assessing him openly. Not with contempt—but with challenge.
Alex met her eyes calmly.
Then she turned sharply, gesturing toward the arena floor. The intent was unmistakable.
"Let's see it," she said. "How good is your magic."
"Alright." Alex replied simply, stepping forward.
Around them, the students watched—each with their own thoughts.
Skepticism. Curiosity. Excitement. Hostility.
Most hoped he would fail. Others just wanted to see something spectacular.
Alex and Helena took their positions on opposite sides of the arena.
Helena broke the silence first. "I've wanted to face you ever since the Wilderness Survival results were announced." she said, chin lifted, red eyes sharp with competitive fire. "A Knight ranking first? That wasn't something I could ignore."
She continued, her tone confident—bordering on smug.
"So let's make this clear." She gestured lightly toward Alex's empty hands. "We'll start like this. Mage versus mage." Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "After you lose, you can pick up your weapon. Then we'll have a proper fight."
The implication was obvious.
As a mage, he wouldn't stand a chance. As a knight, at least he might survive long enough to be interesting.
A few magic students nodded in agreement. Others smirked.
Alex didn't react outwardly. He simply listened.
Aurora, however, didn't bother hiding her amusement. She floated closer to his shoulder, covering her mouth as she chuckled. "Wow. She's really confident."
Alex kept his expression neutral, gaze steady on Helena.
"Try not to embarrass her too much." Aurora added teasingly. "I feel like she might cry later if she loses too badly to you."
Alex resisted the urge to sigh.
Helena mistook his silence for hesitation.
"Don't worry," she said briskly. "There's no shame in knowing your limits. Magic isn't something you can just pick up. Ready?"
Alex met her gaze.
"Yes." he replied simply.
Helena lifted her chin.
"Don't complain later that I was bullying you." she said coolly. "You can go first."
Alex nodded once. "Alright."
The mana around him stirred.
A small, ice-blue magic circle formed above his open palm.
For a heartbeat, the spectators simply stared.
Then a second circle appeared.
Then a third.
And a fourth.
More followed in rapid succession, snapping into existence with mechanical precision until more than a dozen identical circles hovered around Alex in a loose formation.
The air temperature dropped.
Whispers turned into gasps. Hearing rumors was one thing. Seeing it with their own eyes was another entirely.
The spectators didn't just fall silent—they forgot how to think. Conversations died mid-breath, expressions froze half-formed, and for a brief, surreal moment, the entire training hall seemed to hold its breath.
Someone finally whispered, voice hoarse with disbelief, "Multicasting… and chantless casting… at the same time?"
"Even if it's Tier-1—doing this many—"
"That's not normal."
From each circle, sharp ice projectiles condensed instantly—crystalline, razor-edged.
They launched.
Helena's eyes widened. "—!"
She reacted on instinct. "
A fiery dome surged up around her, heat rippling violently as the ice shards slammed into it. Steam hissed, clouds bursting outward as ice met flame.
For a fraction of a second, it held.
Then cracks spiderwebbed across the barrier.
It ruptured—punctured in multiple places as partially melted shards punched through, their momentum barely reduced.
The spectators froze.
Helena gritted her teeth.
She twisted her body, mana flaring. "
Flames erupted at her feet as she shot sideways, narrowly avoiding the remaining projectiles. They embedded themselves into the floor behind her with sharp, echoing cracks.
She skidded to a stop—
And felt the temperature plummet again.
Three massive ice walls rose around her in an instant, sealing her off on three sides. Their surfaces were thick and opaque, radiating a biting cold.
Her breath fogged.
For a moment—nothing happened.
That pause saved her.
She drew in mana deeply, ignoring the creeping cold, and cast a Tier-4 spell. "
Fire roared to life in her grasp, shaping itself into a blazing blade. With a sharp cry, she swung—
The ice wall shattered, exploding outward in chunks of frost and steam.
She stepped forward—
And stopped.
Something snapped around her ankles.
Then her wrists.
Cold iron chains erupted from the ground, coiling tight around her limbs. Frost spread rapidly where they touched, the mana within them pulsing once—anchoring her in place.
"W-What—?!"
The cold seeped in fast, numbing and vicious.
She struggled, flames flaring as she tried to melt them—
But the chains held.
Footsteps approached.
Calm. Unhurried.
Alex walked through the thinning mist, expression composed, eyes clear. There was no triumph in his face. No mockery.
He stopped in front of her.
Helena looked up, breathing hard, frustration and disbelief burning in her eyes.
Alex raised a hand.
And flicked her lightly on the forehead.
Tap.
The chains dissolved instantly, frost evaporating into harmless vapor.
The arena was silent.
Alex stepped back and inclined his head slightly.
"Match over."
The match ended in stunned silence. For half a heartbeat, no one moved. Then—
"What the hell was that?!"
The shout tore through the auditorium, raw and incredulous. Heads snapped toward the speaker, but no one rebuked him—because the question sat on everyone's tongue.
"What the hell just happened!?"
Moments ago, the crowd had already been reeling from the sight of Alex's display of multicasting and chantless casting. That alone should have been impossible for someone like him.
But Alex hadn't stopped there.
He had gone further—casting Tier-2 and Tier-3 spells with ease, seamlessly chaining them together as if boundaries simply did not apply to him.
The victory had not come from overwhelming force alone, but from precision, timing, and absolute control.
The magic students stood frozen, faces pale, minds scrambling to reconcile what they had just witnessed. Years of theory, practice, and pedigree screamed in protest.
This wasn't how things were supposed to work. This wasn't how talent behaved.
Several of them glanced down at their own hands, as if expecting their understanding of magic to fracture outright.
Among the Knight Faculty students, the reaction was different—no less intense, but sharper. Excitement crackled through them, pride flaring at the sight of one of their own standing tall.
Yet threaded through it was envy, quiet and bitter, aimed not just at Alex's magic, but at the ease with which he walked both paths.
William's face twisted into something ugly. His teeth ground together, knuckles whitening at his sides. Every word he had spat earlier echoed back at him now, each one a blade turned inward.
A commoner. A cripple. Unworthy.
The proof stood breathing calmly at the center of the arena.
Irene watched in silence. She had known Alex was talented. She had tested him herself—felt the edge of his sword. But this…
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Mage and knight alike—balanced, controlled, and frighteningly advanced for his age.
And far sooner than she had believed possible.
At the center of it all, Alex lowered his hand, expression unchanged, as if he had done nothing more remarkable than complete a routine drill.
Aurora floated beside him, grinning unabashedly. "Wow! I think you just broke these people's worldviews."
Alex laughed softly at her comment.
Somewhere in the crowd, reality was still catching up.
As for Helena, she stood frozen where she was, chest still rising and falling as the last traces of heat dissipated from her hands. The sting on her forehead lingered—not from pain, but from humiliation sharper than any wound.
Helena lowered her eyes, fists clenched—not in anger, but in the dawning realization of how wide the world truly was.
Elena broke the silence.
"Remember what you witnessed today." she said crisply. "There is always someone better than you out there."
Her gaze swept over the students, sharp as a blade.