CHAPTER 121
I CHOOSE YOU (3)
“A murderer's son going to Concordia. Do you think I’ll allow that?”
“Beat him until he accepts the charges.”
“Confess. Confess.”
“Get these bastards out of my land.”
“Confiscate their home.”
“Get the fuck out, you cripple bastard.”
Vanir recalled every word the Zinvens had said to his family, slandering, and falsifying the charges just because he had submitted a spell modification to the tower, bypassing the territorial lords. Enraged again at the recollection of those words, Vanir imagined his tormentor's face shattered by his spell. Lightning Bomb was soon gonna achieve his revenge, but out of nowhere, something clasped his spell hand and forced him to change the trajectory.
“No,” he shouted as his perfectly thought plan shattered. Then he heard the annoying voice of his lunatic senior. “Vanir Dorfeil of House Prophets gives up this match.” The sudden declaration confused the first years, however, others felt the deja vu. The scene of the past was repeating itself right before their eyes.
"Lucky me, I found a better one."
However, for Vanir, Hans was nothing but someone who ruined all his planning. Angered, he shouted at Hans, “Just why did you do this? You asked me to kill my opponent. I was doing what you told me. Or do you think a commoner beating a noble —”
“I don’t give two shits about the nobles, Junior,” Hans replied with a wicked smile, stating, “This is a tradition I started.” And grabbing Vanir by his chin, he turned his face to the barely standing Virion. “Just look at that pathetic face. Not all victories are satisfactory. Now he’ll live as someone you spared, and engrave his name on the wall of fame as a winner and Fresher king. Every time he sees that, his blood will boil thinking that a commoner he looked down on his whole life, handed him a victory as alms.”
Vanir turned back to Hans, and his wicked Senior continued pointing his head, “That’s how you do permanent damage, Junior,” leaving him baffled, and he kept looking at Hans, who was staring somewhere else, the Sentinels. Finally, with a huge grin on his face, Hans shouted, aiming his words at Delimira, “Enjoy your second Empty Victory, Sentinels.”
“That nutjob,” Delimira muttered silently, but her contorted face said much more. She was boiling with anger. This also happened last year, resulting in Hans's opponent dropping out due to shame. Hans had a nasty habit of rubbing salt in the wounds and was very good at it. Walking to the Virion, his expression changed to the innocent one, and he sincerely congratulated him. And as he took a quick look at his juniors, he shouted, his voice propagated with mana, “WELCOME TO THE CONCORDIA.”
“Mr Hans” Martha rained on his parade, “if you are done, shall we end this.”
“Ah, Am I that of a big deal that you’ve to ask me, Professor?”
“Just get out of here before I send you to your punishment for this year too.”
“Yes ma'am” Hans jumped out of the battle platform, and the ceremony ended. Meanwhile, behind the invisible curtain, a professor commented to Rudolf, “He sure knows how to entertain, Dean.” And Rudolf, pressing his temples, responded, “I think I need to have a talk with this entertainer later.” Some laughed, and one added, “Go easy on him, at least I’m looking forward to next year's admission.”
Meanwhile, in the grand hall, Sentinels, who already hated Hans, were fuming from both ears and noses. On the other hand, Walter was rubbing salt on Aredhel’s pride, leaving others to do their thing. Upon realising what Hans had done, Vanir felt grateful, his notorious senior had given him more of a satisfactory victory than he could have achieved on his own. “Well, he is interesting, at least,” he thought, but he saw a very beautiful turned ugly elf marching at their corner. “Senior..senior ..watch it —”
“What the hell, Hans? ” Delimira forcefully turned Hans, but he responded calmly, “Oh, I thought I would at least be slapped. Interesting development, Deli.”
“Just answer. What were you thinking? This was different from last time,” she said, pointing at the agonising Virion, “He had nothing to do with you?”
“Yes, but Deli, he is from Sentinels, and I'm from Prophets. Do I need any reason to humiliate him? We might be friends but remember, our Houses are rivals.”
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“Agh,” she grunted, and Hans said scanning Allynna, “Well, I could say it was personal too.”
“Don’t even think of it. She is elven royalty. Do I need to put it in exact words, what will really happen if you got what you wanted?”
“No, that’s why I’m giving up. So stop nagging.” Hans pushed her back a little and added, “I must have gone insane for a moment." he shivered imagining the possibilities, but asked 'cause of curiosity, "What is she anyway? I have seen her mana pool before, it was impressive enough to make me drool. She has almost the same amount of mana as you even without having a circle ---”
“That's an elven royalty. Do you think they are the same as others? There is a reason they are royals —”
“What are you saying,” Vanir, who promised himself not to get involved with this lunatic senior even if he was grateful to him, said to him, “You could see the mana capacity.”
“tsk, tsk, tsk. No shit, even our juniors butt in when we talk Deli. I need to discipline mine later. But since you dared to interrupt," Hans answered, "Yes, I can see it,” pointing to Alynna he continued, “She has almost ten times compared to you. You got a pathetic mana pool for an elf.”
“Hans, don’t you think devaluing your junior on his first day is harsh” Chris was observing them silently and spoke up, but his concern fell on deaf ears. “Tsk, tsk, Chris my friend, is your head for decoration.” Turning to Vanir, he added, “He got a pathetic mana pool, yet he is the top scorer, he got a pathetic mana pool, yet he developed the spells suitable for him. He got a pathetic mana pool yet he is standing while his opponent is biting dust. He got a —”
“yes, yes, I get it. So stop it.” Chris said, covering Hans’s mouth with his hands, but Hans quickly removed it and added, “You are not getting it. He has a pathetic mana pool, and this is a fact. I'm not devaluing him. As soon as he can accept this, he’ll grow. Didn’t your ideal ‘The bewitching Knight’ teach this in the class.”
“But you weren’t in the class.”
“I have ears, well moving on,” Hans pointed to Vanir and said, “Since I can’t have the best, I’ll forge one by myself. Vanir Dorfeil, I choose you.”
“Sen…Senior, Can I deny —”
“Not if you have a death wish.”
“Yay, I’m very happy.”
“Your face doesn’t seem to share the same emotion.”
“I was just born this way, senior.”
“Good, a funny one.” He turned to Delimira and added, gesturing, “Shoo, winters. I have a slav... a minion to raise.”
“I knew it, there is no way, our Hans was serious for a mentee,” Chris stated, and Hans acknowledged, “Yes, I just wanted someone to run some errands for me —”
“Like buying food, fetching books, even reserving tables, right?” Chris asked, cutting him off in the middle, and Hans answered, nodding, “Right, but since he is so weak, I need to raise him so he could maintain his top position. My things can’t be of low grade.”
“Says who scored the last position.” Delimira rubbed him off, but Hans had a retort prepared, “They shouldn’t have set the passing marks to thirty per cent. Why bother putting in more effort if it's not required to pass? You, people, are idiots over achieving everything. Now shoo, I need to talk to my elf.”
“He is not a pet or slave, Hans.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Hans said dragging Vanir along with him to his favourite place, “Let's treat you first. I know an awesome place where we don't have to pay for things.” And soon they reached the renovated Griffin’s Nest cafe. It was blasted the last time they were here, and in the last two days, he couldn’t find time to visit this place. But for Vanir who belonged to a poor background, even standing before this kind of establishment was a luxury. “Senior, are you sure this place is free, I don't have any mon —”
“It's free for me...” he dragged him inside and said to the manager with a polite smile, put everything on Deli’s tab, please and the manager responded with a nod. “You can do that?” Vanir asked in surprise. “Of course, I can. She bought this kinda 'cause of me after all.”
“You have good friends, seniors.”
“Hm… well you are not wrong on that. Sit,'' he pointed to the opposite chair, and as Vanir sat, he asked what he was holding back, “Just how did you know that I made those spells by myself?”
“Oh, that." Hans stated, asking, "Except corronaShiled, everything was made by you, right?”
“Yes. But how did you know? There is no way anyone who doesn't try those spells could tell the difference.”
“Who do you take me for, junior? I’m Hans.”
“That’s not what I am asking, senior.”
“Fine,” sipping his dark chocolate, Hans started explaining, “The three spells, all took very less mana than it should be like someone had tweaked them for you. The first one was supposed to cover the whole floor, but you intelligently carved a tricky path, leading your opponent to a trap. That saves you mana and provides a perfect opportunity, right?”
Hans didn’t have to listen to Vanir’s response since his baffled face was answering him, so he continued, “Then using a generic defensive spell that almost all knew how to break, you boosted your opponent’s confidence so he would let his guard down, and finally retracting the magma spell in a way to trap your opponent. Colour me impressed, Vanir Dorfeil. You know how to fight.”
“Just how old are you? You look about my age. This insight is not something a student should have, nonetheless a second year.”
Hans chuckled and said, “Age is just a number, junior. The higher you have, the more responsibility you get slammed with. So I’m more free, just eleven, two years younger than you.”