She held a strip of paper in her hand, it was a tiny piece that would appear blank for the untrained eye. In the corner of her vision, she could eye the young man's face scrunch up beside her—not a speck of magical capacity within them.

"What's this for?" He muttered underneath his breath, only a whisper.

Her ear twitched slightly as she gazed back at the item that lay on her left palm, magical runes and sigils were not her speciality but her fingers traced and carved out the traces of mana in them. A faint glow that formed the symbol of a bird.

Their [ Professor ] tended to associate old runic symbols of ancient sects and temples into the little activities they did, and with their skill in rune crafting—it didn't take a lot of effort for her to trace the twin rune.

"Ari vs Rose." Owen Liddel called out and two young women from different groups raised their head.

"Miss Elynn vs Sir Leon."

When their name came up, the young woman beside Han froze up. And he looked at her fingers clutching her cloak a little tighter, as if it could protect her from the way some students glanced at her with disdain while others were immediately praising Sir Leon de Harrington.

"My lord will definitely show them how to fight."

"Physical Combatants!" Several men cheered and raised their weapons, along with the few girls who joined in.

Nobody really shouted [ Mages ] at the moment in fear of them thinking that they favored the [ Elf ] as the two students who were first called entered the box-like arena.

Blades and spells would begin to clash.

"John vs Merame." Professor Owen continued with the names.

A young man with a staff decorated with vines reluctantly gets up from the patch of grass to prepare, on the other corner of the crowd of students a young lady bounces up to her feet and gives a grin at their opponent.

"Lady Angelika vs Timothy."

Timothy blinked as he stared down at his paper and then glanced at the Lady Angelika that was seated nearby Penny. The woman gave him a grin and a wave, her smile was as bright as her own plate of armor, "I'm looking forward to our spar." She gave him a small nod.

"Ah, likewise." He nodded back and managed a smile.

How was he going to hit a young woman—and a young woman wearing an entire ensemble of plated armor?! It practically covered her from her arms, chest and even her legs. He considered the armor for a moment, it had to be heavy though so he should probably have more agility in exchange for being squishy.

And finally he took note of her sword. It was what he'd seen in the books he'd read back in his village, the Lady looked like a [ Knight ] and she was probably one, if not—at least nearly there. If you couldn't achieve the [ Class ] then you could at least buy all the necessary equipment.

He fought back the urge to sniff at his own lack of such things.

It was a huge disadvantage.

Nobody needed to tell him that.

And yet he prepared something on hand. He hoped that it would be enough, it was somewhat inspired by the beer bashing session that Han had done back in their village—with his own twist.

"I wish both of you goodluck, Timothy, Angelika." Penelope Primrose who was seated between them gave the two of them a soft smile, "I'm sure that the two of you shall do nicely."

Those were kind of empty words.

She was aware that he didn't hold any [ Mage ] classes and neither did he have much [ Skills ] to boot that were on the offensive. Still, he couldn't exactly just sit around and be stabbed by a sword.

"Calum vs Kyse."

Two young men eyed each other from across their seats. No words were exchanged beyond the silent looks. It would be some time before the two of them were to be called.

"Lady Penelope vs Donovan."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The ginger haired lady clicked her tongue and eyed the man beside Sir Leon and if looks could kill—she would have at least disheartened the [ Axe-Wielder ] by a bit.

But it was for an entirely different reason.

The young man could already imagine an earful, she would definitely throw up a fit if she had lost.

Another normal day for Donovan really. Bending his back towards the people who were in power, he hid it with a grunt as he clutched the handle of his weapon. He would have at least blown off some steam if it had been somebody else.

"Diov vs Russell."

Han glanced around scrutinizingly, the pairs were already decided and were standing up so that meant—where was his opponent?

"Sir Elliot vs Han."

He blinked at the name. Wait a moment, weren't they supposed to be not here? Penelope had mentioned about 'Elliot's seat' during lunch, so it meant that they've just arrived half-way or did they skip lunch? He didn't have a slightest look as to what they looked like, the group of Penelope only had girls withstanding Timothy and there weren't exactly anyone else that seemed like a [ Noble ] besides Sir Leon de Harrington in the circle of people flocking towards.

Needless to say that would be the least of his concerns as the spars started.

.

.

.

The [ Professor ] marked each one accordingly, it didn't matter to him if you had won the fight or lost—what mattered was how they faced the opponent and turned around their own attacks against or at least managed to evade it and defend themselves from a [ Class ] that was the opposite of theirs. After the terse results from the first duo, even he wasn't oblivious enough with the stakes of the next students going up against each other.

A young [ Noble ] came up from the right side, brandishing out their rapier as they took their place inside the square. As opposed to what a normal Physical Combat oriented [ Class ] would do, especially with their weapon—they maintained a wary distance from their opponent.

Owen wasn't sure if it was a good choice.

The [ Half-Elf ] stood on the left, their long cloaked hiding their figure—a good way to hide their lips if they still relied on incantations to produce spells and their sleeves long enough to hide a wand if any.

It wouldn't make sense for him to silently choose which one would do better, he was only here to jot down their results after all, with a short clearing of his throat, he gave a short nod.

"Alright, the two of you may now begin—"

A large burst of wind erupted towards the right

Yelps and cries erupted from [ Students ] whose eyes were blinded by dirt.

Something blurred and shot forwards in the opposite direction, crossing the distance of several feet in a blink of an eye.

The tip of the blade decisively lunged and—stabbed thin air.

The cloaked figure was light on her feet as she made her way back and threw out a flurry of wind strikes that cleaved through the air. She was untouched, if only for the large cut that tear against the side of her cloak.

"My apologies, I'll compensate for your cloak." Sir Leon de Harrington took a step backwards as a gust of wind blew towards him.

The [ Half-Elf ] shook her head, "There is no need for that, Sir Harrington."

"You truly are quite a generous one," They threw a lunge, "Perhaps, kind even to give me a win."

She dodged at the last minute and threw a ball of wind that blasted him off his feet for a moment.

The man regained his footing and dodged the second blow.

It was a game of cat and mouse, darting back and forth across the arena—blades of grass and dirt swept up as the winds blew against the spectators faces. Sir Leon de Harrington movements were slower than their initial burst of speed, the [ Boost ] skill used too early in Owen's personal evaluation as Ellynn kept the man on their feet with her [ Wind Strikes ].

The match seemed to be in the favor of the [ Half Elf ] and with their mana reservoir, he had no doubt that she could have kept the [ Noble ] dancing as if they were in a ballroom. Normally, against a [ Mage ] using that speed and mobility with their rapier would have been enough at their first lunge.

But he was battling someone who had both range and dodging capacities.

And yet the [ Noble ] was relaxed, a poised look on their face as they moved away from the winds—as if simply toying around, biding their time. "Ah, this is a bit tiring isn't it, Miss Elynn? Wouldn't it be nice to slow down."

What trick did they have up their sleeve? [ Professor ] Owen could allow them to keep sparring, but it was taking far long with the two dodging back and forth. He wanted to let them end it in a minute, there were still a lot of students. He sighed and looked down at his notes, and decided to wait some more. He was sure that the young [ Lord ] wouldn't keep it up too long.

An audience was before them and if he stalled, it would be a shame for him to do so.

"If you wish to rest, please do so." A rare remark erupted from the girl's lips as they formed their hands together. Whirlwind blasted from her hands Elynn—an attempt to blow the [ Noble ] away. [ Aera ]

Owen Liddel held onto his notes.

"My apologies for dragging it too long, I'll give you the chance to get some rest." All it took was a quick flick of a wrist as their blade made contact with the gust, "[ Wind Cutter ]."

The torrent was brought down quickly in that moment. How the [ Noble ] had that specific skill to use, Owen could only imagine what for as they took another lunge forward. Even faster than before.

Did they gain a new [ Skill ]?

It didn't matter as the tip of the blade struck against a barrier.

[ Mana Barrier ] to be exact.

A tsk left the lips of the [ Noble ] as they eyed the girl inside the barrier, their hood was already pulled down perhaps unknown to them. Their eyes locked on with his, her determination apparent in her eyes. But he was sure that he had cut her mana well down and maintaining this barrier expended it more.

He flashed her a smile, "Well done, you can put the barrier down."

Elynn's gaze wavered for a moment, the barrier flickering out—the tip of his blade stopping directly at her heart.

[ Professor ] Owen felt his lips twitch, now this was someone who truly used all their [ Skills ] into practice. Including the [ Noble ] related skills of authority and power.

He wasn't sure if that was anticlimactic or simply the inevitable outcome. Regardless, he jotted down the notes of their scores, "Next pair please."