Ah~ How touching… Ugh…
Anyways, Aldrick and Ren just regurgitated my understanding verbatim.
It always sucked when stories relied on the basic elemental or, in general, power levels to just outfuck your opponent. At LEAST, EAA had something over those shitty stories. Given this world's heightened emphasis on scientific principles, it's only natural that its combat would reflect that.
I mean… I expected a good fight for the first duel of the story?
But… Wasn't that overkill?
How are the other students supposed to match the level of intricacy?
I mean, I could.
But it felt less like an opening skirmish and more like a grand finals duel.
You know what?
It's a good thing.
Caelum raised the stakes for the student body. A spectacle so brilliant that it would, hopefully, encourage the student body to replicate it.
Still… It really acts as evidence against Caelum.
Even as a supposed 'Genius'... How did he perfectly project his 'Zone' into a 3-dimensional nozzle, whereas the rest of us were wasting energy and mana by allowing our Spells to dissipate in2-dimensionall directions rather than hyper-calculating it into a 3rd axis path?
Hmmm… The calculations and timing for his Spells were so precise that it almost was like an AI was doing the casting.
Before that, did he research what the arena was made of before the duel? What normal student who didn't have previous knowledge of it goes out of their way to research?
In sum: What a Clanker.
Sure to gain the interest of the Magister based on the level of glazing that occurred.
Isaac's eyes cut sideways to Magister Silas Ren. There he stands, no longer clapping for Darius. Instead, Isaac catches it, a telltale smirk curling at the edge of his lips shown in the way the binary of his worldview curved slightly up.
Eyeing the one sat next to the Brute.
Eww… Pedo… Looking and smiling at underage boys like that?
Well… Doesn't matter.
Statement scaling says that Aldrick and Ren are relatively similar in magic. Feat scaling says that Aldrick casually performed a what they call Self-Synthesis Spell of Shimm— Ahem… M.K.A and T.K.D. Yielding an explosive yield that far surpassed what Darius and Caelum performed in the entire duel in lesser timescales and effort.
Rough estimate: Adlrick's max Fire magic is about… ehh… Skilled to Supreme Class (7-9 Stars).
It's not even his main element; that's Ren's.
Given that… Shit… If I remember correctly, Ren has a Fire-Derivative Element.
Give or take a margin of 1-2 classes that Derivative Elements give… Magister Silas Ren has magic on the level of a Grandmaster?
…
That's Fire-related elements only, not accounting for the seeming fact that once you graduate, all base elements must be Adept Class or higher.
What am I?
Apprentice Class Wind only…
Shii… Oh my god… I'm fucked in Arc III.
Professor Aldrick coughs, silencing the crowd.
"Students! Now that we have finished dissecting that duel… Do you think you can replicate what they performed?"
Ah! He read my mind!
A ripple of reactions spread through the crowd: doubt from the weaker students, confident smirks from the nobles. And indifferent reactions from the Royals. They raised their hands, along with Isaac.
A few stared at him, considered his status, and thought 'Huh? Yeah, maybe he could'.
Magister Silas Ren stepped into the conversation now, his face less enthusiastic than it was.
"The fact that you, other than a select few, hesitate… Proves you are unfit to stand where they stood. Let me pose this thesis: In the past, you were taught that knowledge and power were the sufficing factors that decide duels. But I ask, are they truly enough?"
The students furrowed their brows, murmuring. Isaac too pondered this question. Although it was an oversimplification fallacy, the point of the question remained.
"Picture this: You've risen as Elenos's representative in the Arcanum Grandis, the greatest stage every four years. The score is tied in the third match after your comrades in competition, your rivals in training, fell short. 100,000 spectators hold their breath as billions more stare through their screens. You stand at the arena's edge, Thaumitonic Capacity drained to embers that barely allow you to Shield. Your opponent—a legend in their own right—locks eyes with you. You both know that one move remains."
Ah… It's this question.
"If you defend now… you can and will counter later. Victory is assured. The championship… the kingdom's hope… they rest on your back while you have that absolute victory in sight."
Another pause. The air thickened.
"But no. You don't defend. Too many variables: what if he blocks my counter and hits back physically or vice versa? What if I act foolishly and my Shielding goes down? My body becomes free game! You will look lesser in the eyes of the people who expect initiative. No! You strike with no hesitation! The calculations favor defending. But striking is superior. You have placed something above it: your own refusal to let this outcome exist without your hand in forcing it. Just like Darius, even with a faulty left arm, he tried and innovated his Pyrokinesis to turn the tide entirely. Only a Wave Binder with unshakable pride, with absolute faith in their own supremacy, dares such a move. A counter so ruthless, it would have left no room for retaliation if it was fired earlier."
A fighter's pride. Their EGO.
Not the pride in your skill nor faith in your power.
But the unrelenting certainty that you cannot lose.
"I know that something was clouding your judgment, Darius, at the moment, and that is your issue to fix. But I urge you, though the thoughts you were having may have been of unrighteous motives, the actions you have shown us all today are a hope I hold for all here. We may have differing beliefs in how our point should be proven, but NEVER enter an arena with a wavering heart. Prove your point through absolute victory! Palm the opponent! So listen well! Those who didn't raise their hands! Against what Headmaster Orthellius always emphasises, a new age of Wave Binding is in store. On the battlefield and in life, you must be the protector, the centrepiece, the star. Nothing—NOTHING—should bring you more joy than your own accomplishments. Live egotistically for yourself, but breathe for Humanity. And if you can't?"
"You do not deserve the title of Wave Binder. I'll be frank. Drop out. Or go find out. That's all from me."
Fuck… Ah shit… I can't believe I'm siding with a villain on this one.
They all speak so well… It's like they all have a Speech Enhancement Attribute.
Nevertheless, they're, or at least the Magister for some reason, is preparing students for the Arcanum Grandis in Act IV: Arc II? If I'm correct, a worldwide tournament involving all three kingdoms and the respective prestigious academies.
Hmm… Lowkey… Fighting Aveline from Graham seems fun.
Oh well…Let's see how it will play out with all these external variables now.
I just PRAY it's not some fucking generic tournament arc.
Professor Aldrick steps in to finalize the lesson.
"Well said, Silas. As you can ascertain, today's introduction to Practical Noësis was dedicated to be executed more as our expectations of you all, being told to you up front, the first half at least, courtesy of Magister Silas Ren. As for the second half of the lecture, it will be my time. Students, I will be educating you about the topic at hand, and what will be your homework."
Something shifted in the air.
Be it the currents of wind or the charred steps left on the ground towards the Center Hall.
Professor Aldrick was standing perfectly still in front of the cohort.
What the students did not realize was that, through the reflection of the now shiny arena.
His physical body was left behind.
"Students!"
A tempestuous wind and a barrier of sound had been broken.
Most students instinctively reacted by covering their ears, tilting their heads downwards.
But what they saw was a notebook and pen, each placed perfectly on their laps.
They all wondered, even Isaac, where this came from.
They looked back up at Professor Aldrick, one moment ago standing, now seated on a chair not made of the dueling ring like the rest of them were.
'Where did he get it?' They asked.
Well, but of course, the smarter ones put two and two together. Magister Silas Ren, pinching his brows in annoyance and embarrassment, was another giveaway. Eventually, even Isaac got to it.
For the truth lay in the air.
Why did a sound barrier break? And why were such tornadoes of wind generated in the blink of an eye?
But of course.
"Students! I ask you this: How did I not evaporate from the G-Forces, acceleration, and atmospheric heating while navigating back and forth, placing, or should I say, throwing these dear books and pens of mine on your laps, and sitting down on a chair I grabbed on the way?"
Math was running in Isaac's head already.
Accounting for velocity vectors, object release vectors, air resistance, Magnus effect, gravity, and the exact location of our laps…
With a rough estimate of: Mach 12-20…
Professor Aldrick answered his own, supposedly rhetorical question.
"Through my own ability, of course! Haha, joking. Through my Thaumitonic Shielding and Topological Matrix."
I see… It's the words I've been hearing all this time.
After brushing off what seemed to be a purposefully dusted shirt from Aldrick to Silas, the annoyed Magister took over the cackling Professor and posed this to the cohort.
"Tsk… Bastard… What is a 'Topological Matrix'?"