The silence fell like a rock in the river.
Heavy. Dense. Undeniable.
Some cadets continued training, pretending a wizard hadn't just burst into the room. Sharp blows against punching bags. Swords clashing. Forced, normal breathing.
Too normal.
Merlin let out a soft, almost amused chuckle. He leaned back against the wall with complete nonchalance and looked at the young man who had challenged him.
He couldn't have been more than sixteen.
Tall for his age, well-trained body, rigid posture. The kind of boy raised on tales of honor, lineage, and inherited glory. Compared to Merlin, who looked about twenty-two or twenty-three, the boy was nothing more than a child playing war games.
Merlin placed a hand on his stomach, as if it hurt from laughing so much.
"You? Challenging me? Ha!" he laughed. "Kid, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
The air shifted.
It wasn't immediate, but Nero felt it.
An artificial pressure descended on the room, as if someone had placed an invisible mountain above them all. There was no wind, but their skin reacted as if they were on a mountaintop. A created phenomenon, not a natural one.
Interesting… Nero thought, observing closely.
He didn't intervene. He just watched, an ironic smile on his face, while the other members of the group remained silent.
The young man stepped forward, pride swelling in his chest.
"I, Char Lanchan, rightful heir of the Lanchan family," he declared firmly, "demand you to a duel of honor!"
Merlin didn't even respond with words.
He raised his middle finger.
The air grew even heavier.
The cadets who were still training stopped one by one. Their eyes fixed on the center of the room. The spectacle had begun.
Char drew his sword with a swift, clean movement. The metal gleamed under the artificial light. Without hesitation, he advanced and delivered a horizontal slash straight at Merlin's neck.
Too fast for a novice.
Merlin took a step back, the blade barely skimming the air in front of his face. Then he leaped to the side and rolled across the floor with a fluidity unbecoming of a 'mere wizard.'
As he rolled, he traced a symbol with his wand.
A yellow magic circle appeared beneath him, expanding like an artificial sun. The light flooded the room, warm, almost comforting.
"Never trust a wizard..." someone murmured among the cadets.
"Merlin..." Nero said, barely turning his head toward him. "Don't kill him. We don't want any more trouble than we already have."
Merlin smiled even wider.
A broad smile. Dangerous.
"I won't kill him," he replied lightly. "But I'll leave him scarred."
Sunday stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying what was coming.
Lux and Kōri exchanged glances. They were both thinking the same thing: that kid was finished.
Char slid across the reinforced concrete floor, leaving marks from his leather boots. He spun around and unleashed a series of rapid slashes, one after another, forcing Merlin back.
Merlin dodged effortlessly. A step to the right. A slight lean. A short jump backward.
He didn't even seem to be trying.
Char's final attack was an upward slash, executed with enough force to split bone.
Merlin jumped.
He spun in mid-air, executing a clean somersault, and as he fell, he reached inside his coat. His fingers found a small glass vial.
Grayish powder. Streaked with white.
As it hit the ground, he flung it straight at Char's face.
The young man barely had time to react.
"Ictus!" Merlin said calmly.
The powder changed color instantly.
From gray to brilliant red.
It expanded like a living cloud and, a second later, exploded against Char's body.
The impact sent him flying several meters backward. His back slammed against the wall with a dull, unpleasant sound. The air escaped his lungs in a choked gasp.
Char fell to the ground, rolling clumsily.
He wasn't dead.
But he was bleeding.
Fair cuts had opened on his skin as if something invisible had scratched him from within. His sword fell from his hands, its sound echoing on the floor.
Merlin walked toward him with absolute calm, the magic circle fading behind him.
"I warned you," he said, looking down at him. "Scars teach, too."
Silence fell over the room again.
This time, no one pretended to train.
"You…" Char Lanchan spat, half-standing up, rage contorting his face. "You don't know who you're messing with!"
The threat hung in the air.
Hollow.
Merlin had already turned his back on him, yawning openly.
And then Nero moved.
One step.
The boot slammed into Char's ribs with a sharp, surgical blow. The air left his lungs in a ragged sound. The boy's body doubled over and rolled on the floor, gasping, unable even to scream.
Sunday whistled softly.
"Free warning," he muttered. "How generous."
Lux instinctively took a half-step forward, assessing the room as if expecting a chain reaction. Nothing happened. No one dared.
Kōri clicked her tongue, crossing her arms.
"They always talk too much," she said irritably. "They never think about the consequences."
Nero lowered his leg calmly.
"Shut your mouth," she said emotionlessly. "Before you say something you can't survive."
Char could only manage a stifled groan.
Absolute silence.
Not a single weapon moved. Not a single training exercise continued. All eyes were fixed on the floor… or on Nero.
Merlin leaned against the wall, satisfied.
"I told you scars teach," he remarked, as if discussing the weather.
Tap.
Tap.
Firm footsteps.
The door burst open.
The battalion captain entered, and the atmosphere shifted instantly. His eyes scanned the room with military precision: the dust in the air, the fallen sword, the boy writhing on the floor.
"...Who was the idiot?"
The group reacted as one.
"Sir, Captain!"
Deep bows.
"Up," the captain ordered. "No prayers."
His gaze fell upon Char.
"Lanchan." Pause. "Again."
Char gritted his teeth, humiliated.
"How many times have I told you that a family name doesn't fight for you?"
No one answered.
The captain turned to Merlin.
"And you?"
Merlin bowed deeply.
"Merlin. Wizard." He smiled. "I promise not to destroy anything... visible."
Sunday snorted.
Lux barely shook his head, as if to say, of course.
The captain sighed and looked at Nero.
He stopped.
Longer than necessary.
"You?"
Nero held his gaze.
"No one."
The captain narrowed his eyes… and smiled slightly.
"That's what all the troublemakers say."
He turned around.
"Take Lanchan to the infirmary. Now."
Two recruits obeyed immediately.
"And you," he added without turning around, "out. Before I decide to punish everyone."
The group withdrew.
As they walked, Merlin leaned toward Nero.
"See? No one dead."
"Yeah, but if you keep this up, we're going to end up beheaded or as slaves."
"Come on, relax."
Nero snorted.
I'm a mage too... well, my rank is Magician, but I still don't know exactly what a mage is in this world.
Merlin can attack from a distance, and I just heard him say 'ictus,' which I don't really know what it means, but it activated the powder.
Speaking of things, the first time I met Merlin, he could create illusions. Is that a skill or a Sinner artifact?
Furthermore, what will his path be?
Captain Caraspeo.
"Uhm... Sikan wants to speak with you."