It was official.

I felt regret at my decision to compete in nature magic.

Yes, I had made an ash house, which was no easy feat, and leveraged its construction to dominate the noble faction and the majority of the other participants, but I got taken out by a boulder?! Seriously?!

Whoever launched it at me probably felt jealous of what I had done and decided to enhance their pebble into something much larger.

My head still hurt, even hours later, and after the healers assured me there was nothing wrong. And all that for a potion that would increase my affinity to nature magic, something I already had a high affinity for? And, let’s not forget, since there were no hard numbers, the increase ranged anywhere from one percent to a hundred. Not to mention, I had to endure three variations of the same lecture from the judges, my friends, and the academy professors about how ill-conceived and recklessly dangerous my little stunt was.

The judges said no competition could possibly justify the amount of essence I had collected, and that doing so again would constitute treason, as they had been told to inform me by the queen herself, who wasn’t exactly pleased with what I had done, according to them. Half my friends were shouting at me for doing something so unnecessary and wasteful, while the other half wondered why I had never done that before. And the professors warned me that my actions would have consequences, and to be ready for whatever would come, though one of them did hang back afterwards to praise my level of control.

Hence, my regret.

And I had one more event to push through before this festival would end.

The majority of students had returned to their respective academies as the festival was in its final phase, and the natives of the capital, who were once excited and enthusiastic to enjoy all that the festival had to offer, were now complaining about the shameless leeches from outside who were still here. I had no clue what the taming event would be like, as the organizers had made select events such as taming have different themes. The fourth years just had to straight up battle each other. The third years had to do an obstacle course that took them around the entire capital. There was no obvious pattern to be gleaned from those two that I could apply to my own event.

At the very least, this was the last event our academy had students competing in, so I could leave once the event was over. The academy would handle the journey back, as the professors would teleport students back in batches of twenty, and a few would stay a day or two longer to observe any notable competitors from the other academies.

The only students I could remember from the other academies were obviously the noble who attacked me, the other two finalists from my blood magic event, and the guy I’d asked to cover me in the nature magic event. I never asked for his name, and he was eliminated shortly after I made the ash house. Some asshole tripped him and was about to send him face first into the ground, with a bed of spikes ready to meet him, when the judges came and pulled him out.

I had just over an hour before my event started, so I washed up and had a light breakfast, collecting the ingredients to make a couple sandwiches. Even my friends had lost their enthusiasm for the festival, if their being subdued and almost indifferent was any indication. Frankly, I wish they’d be like that more. It’d be much more quiet that way.

As per usual, we headed to the stadium for my final event, the once-packed streets now resembling a ghost town.

Everyone had gotten at least one prize during the festival, so it wasn’t a total waste, but overall, I had mixed feelings about my experiences here. I even began to think that I wouldn’t come next year, though if I knew what the prizes were in advance, I could change my mind yet again. It took a few minutes, but eventually all the participants arrived in the stadium for the taming event, bringing the grand total up to…twenty-seven. Was there some reason taming wasn’t that widespread? Or was my perspective skewed from years of Pokémon and other anime?

Meh, it wasn’t worth finding out the actual answer. People liked what they liked.

I tuned back in as the judges started their spiel. They informed us all of the general rules, which I’d heard…three times now, but it felt like a hundred. And apparently, the taming event would be a…list of tasks to complete?

All the participants turned to the far side of the stadium as one of the judges said, “You all will be given a list of tasks to perform. You must do each one and in the proper order. Whoever finishes all of them first will be the winner, and will receive a spatial bracelet that can store food for your tamed companions.”

His announcement silenced the participants, who likely never expected to be able to win a rare spatial item. Calling the space affinity rare was the understatement of the year. The more exotic affinities of space, time, and gravity were so uncommon it beggared belief. Similar to the other elements, it was theoretically possible to perform spells of those branches, even if one didn’t possess the same affinity, but it was much harder to cast any spells without the corresponding knowledge and understanding.

I did perk up once I heard about the prize, as it could provide somewhat of a cover for my inventory if I wanted to quickly withdraw or store something.

“Unfortunately for whoever is declared the winner, the bracelet is still subject to the flow of time, so don’t go thinking you can just store a week’s worth of food in there and then forget about it. The organizers have also decided to extend their generosity to the rest of you, and award everyone else something as well. Those who finish second through fourth will receive a new alchemical sedative powder, which will calm any wild animals you encounter, a useful tool when attempting to tame new companions. Those placing fifth through tenth will receive a saddle for any single companion you have now or in the future, available only while you remain a student. And those finishing lower than tenth but above the bottom four will receive a pair of enchanted goggles that provide far sight.”

Excited whispering broke out among the students that knew each other, and the judges indulged them for a minute before proceeding. “Now, if you’ll all stand on the line here, we can continue. Remember, every task must be accomplished and in the order listed. You may not form teams or lend your companions to anyone else. And anyone who touches another participant will be immediately disqualified.”

As he reiterated the rules, a small army of animals was herded into the stadium by the rest of the judges. Some of the animals were collared, and some were caged, but all of them were submissive and obedient. It was clear that they were meant to be used for this event, and that slimy feeling I thought I had repressed made itself known once again, as I contemplated the ethics of tamer practices. “Now, it’s first come, first served, so whoever tames their companion first is the one who should use it,” the first judge said again, as the beasts were placed around the entire stadium in a haphazard manner, strewn around the floor in no discernible pattern.

“Five, four, three, two, one…begin!”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

As the countdown ended, the opposite side of the stadium was covered in a projection, displaying a list of tasks to perform.

Simultaneously, a row of archery targets that had the appearance of chiseled stone rose up from the ground, seven targets on thin and narrow posts that stood about six feet tall. An obstacle course was also magically created from the ground, and included large hoops and hurdles, a line of thick poles, an earthen tunnel that curved and twisted, and two concentric circles filled with water.

A few participants had already started sprinting towards the closest animals, hoping to tame them first and then read the list of tasks.

But karma had other plans.

The first task made me chuckle.

1. Do not step off the line until a judge says go.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that my memory isn’t the most reliable, but I’m fairly confident the judge counted down and then said ‘start’ or ‘begin’, and not ‘go’. And just like that, three people were out.

“Sigh, you all should leave the stadium now,” the judge said, shaking his head at the overeager participants who were now eliminated.

I read the rest of the tasks first before proceeding, just out of caution.

2. While mounted on your tamed companion, locate the young Biven cub somewhere in the city, and return to the stadium with one of its hairs as proof. Submit it to a judge in order to proceed to the next task.

3. Establish and break tamer bonds with five creatures by yourself without succumbing to backlash.

4. After taming a suitable companion, shoot magically summoned projectiles at the targets while riding your companion. To proceed to the next task, your spells must make contact with the target while you are in contact with your companion. For this task only, you may use spells of other elements as projectiles.

5. Guide your companion through the gauntlet of obstacles without touching it or casting spells. To proceed to the next task, you must use only verbal or mental instructions.

6. Break the bond between a rival competitor and their tamed companion five separate times. Return to the starting line with at least one intact bond to receive your prize.

This would be too easy, even with my little unintentional handicap of me waiting at the line a few extra seconds. I was capable of doing everything on that list, though the mounted marksmanship could prove to be a little troublesome. I glanced up at the list again, focusing on the species of the cub.

Bivens were notorious for exuding a natural odor that was alluring and irresistible to other creatures. They only learned how to control the gland that secreted their signature smell once they grew up, and learned to use their natural scent to manipulate prey into traps. Cubs didn’t leave their parents until they had matured, and the ones that left earlier found themselves in a predator’s digestive tract.

Naturally, this first task was testing our knowledge of various animals. The obvious answer was to choose a companion that was speed-oriented, to cover as much ground as possible with celerity. The right answer was to choose something with excellent olfactory capabilities. I passed a few students who stood in front of flying snakes and wind wolves, attempting to tame them, but I searched for something that was more…efficient. It was like I was back in the pet store I once worked at, with rows of cages and collared animals looking idly at me while I kept browsing.

Finally, I found what I was looking for, and silently cursed fate for putting me in a position to be mocked. The blue gyr, an azure-colored creature with two curved horns and a bovine appearance, stood roughly at my shoulder-height.

I could practically hear the ‘rhaaj riding a rhaaj’ jokes from here.

Taming the collared creature took barely a thought, and it lowered its head to me before kneeling down onto the ground for me to mount it.

The stadium had multiple entrances and exits, but there was only one large enough to allow the menagerie of animals ingress and egress from the field. I urged my mount forward, and we made our way through the capital, while I did my damnedest to keep the easily distractable gyr focused on the task at hand.

Finding the biven cub was easy, as it was located in an open-air pen and my mount picked up its scent like a bloodhound, made easier by the fact that there were less distracting smells from food stalls than I remembered. I plucked a few of its hairs from its flank and kept them firmly grasped in my hand before turning around to leave.

Getting back to the stadium was significantly harder, at least at first. My current location was…somewhere in the capital, and I hadn’t memorized the route I took. My gyr didn’t have a scent to lock onto, so I couldn’t utilize its greatest asset. And running around aimlessly in the capital sounded like a colossal waste of time. So I cheated, by asking for help.

Hey Spearmint, I need you to –

“I’ve been watching for the past hour, I already know,” he said resignedly. “Take the path on the left, no, the other left! Now go straight until you see that lady selling flowers. Then…”

With my beast companion guiding me back, I made good time returning to the stadium, where I saw a few people trying to wrestle their tamed animals into submission. One student, who I had no doubt was a noble, had his arms and legs wrapped around a winged serpent that was thrashing around and trying to dislodge him from its snout. He kept alternating between vehemently pleading for it to submit, and trying to threaten it using his ineffectual lightning spell, which caused zero reactions from the winged serpent, except maybe wriggling a bit more actively.

The rest of the event was…boring. It was just too easy, as there was little challenge for me, and nobody else was even close to finishing by the time I had. Making and breaking tamer bonds was child’s play, especially now that I had created my own version of breaking bonds that didn’t trigger a backlash.

The mounted archery challenge was more difficult, as it took me a few tries to get used to the rocking and bumping of my mount while simultaneously aiming for the targets that seemed smaller while I was riding past them. I had to change mounts a few times, eventually settling on a bruyer, a centipede looking thing, as it had less jerky motions when moving forward, even with me on its back. It took a bit longer than the other challenges, but I finished it as well, my blood shaped into arrows for better aerodynamics.

The animal obstacle course was a joke. In descending order, beasts had the highest level of sapience, followed by creatures, who had the mentality of a young child, and animals, who were limited to simple concepts and mere sentience. When forging a tamer bond, the tamer and tamed animal could share rudimentary thoughts, depending on the type of taming method used. This connection also bypassed any language barrier, and allowed for flawless communication of ideas between the two. Again, it depended on the type of spell or taming method used.

Naturally, this meant that sending a beast through the obstacle course would be easier than attempting to do so with an animal or creature, as it would be more receptive to my instructions about guiding it. There were few beasts among the veritable zoo in the stadium, but I found one that was amenable to my request. I even asked beforehand this time.

The ungul, a goat with both horns and tusks, was acclimated to mountainous terrain, so the little tunnels and divots of the man-made obstacle course were laughably easy for it…her…to traverse.

I legitimately heard her chortling in my mind as she went through it and I stood by the side, pointlessly describing what she would need to do, at least if she were less intelligent or sure-footed, for the sake of appearances and so the judges didn’t notice anything conspicuous.

I let her accompany me while I moved on to the last task of breaking the bonds my fellow competitors had painstakingly forged with their own companions. I didn’t want to be accused of unfairly targeting any specific individual, so I went around the stadium and chose to be an asshole to a few random participants. Funnily enough, all of my victims, ahem, I mean…ah, fuck it, there was no point lying to myself. I only chose nobles, who stood out to me due to their general demeanour, their fancy-schmancy clothes, and their house emblem that was invariably located in a visibly prominent and noticeable place.

In the end, I won first place, which was no surprise. I bound the spatial bracelet with the judges ensuring nothing went wrong, and my opponents, especially those whose bonds I broke, looking salty and ready to settle debts.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I met up with my friends and started walking back to the compound. Now that this pseudo-assessment masquerading as a festival was over, I could get back to the less stressful environs of the academy, and now that I was a third-year, maybe I could look into that section of the library for the litany of questions I still had.

In an unlikely turn of events, no other incidents befell me before I was whisked back to the familiar grounds of the academy grounds via the teleport formation, alongside eighteen other students and an instructor.

Waving a weary goodbye to my friends, I headed to my dorm to sleep, feeling both physically and mentally drained, ready to put the festival behind me.