Beneath a cloudless blue sky, lush carpets of green stretched for miles in every direction, rippling under the light autumn breeze. Sun-kissed hills rolled and undulated along the horizon, hemmed in by the great forests that populated the academy's estate. Breath taken away by the vast expanse before him, Thomas stood still, taking it all in—the rustling grass, the whispering winds, the scent of dew. Eyes closed, he let a sense of tranquillity wash over him.
It was his fourth official day as a teacher here. Soon, he would have to prove his worth and bring an end to the reign of terror wrought by his troublesome students, fittingly dubbed the problem magi.
"Oi, are we doing this or what?" Lilith shouted at him from her seat on a nearby rock, Gretchen and Nia sitting beside her. "You've been spaced out for a few minutes now. Already having second thoughts?"
Breaking free of his reverie, the man turned to the bored-looking girls. "A-ah, my bad. Just surprised by how much land the school owns. All of this must be hundreds of acres alone..."
"It'd be even stranger if this academy didn't possess this much land. It's the world's leading magick institution, we're talking about here. Given the destructive capabilities of spells, they'd need a lot of space to train magi and test out spells. Well, it also helps that the royal family has close ties with this place. Makes sense though, since this nation is the birthplace of magicks..."
"Wait, it is?"
"What? You came all this way to become a teacher here, and you didn't even know that? Do you have stew for brains? Or have you simply been living under a rock this whole time?"
"I-I did spend most of my life on a mountain... so I guess I lived on top of a rock?" Thomas chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh yeah, on that topic, was it really necessary to have the coach situated that far away from us? Seems overboard, doesn't it?"
Thousands of yards away, Oscar had parked the carriage atop a distant mound, appearing as but a speck from the location they'd settled on. Reclined in his box seat, the goblin leafed through the latest edition of the Wenton Gazette, completely unconcerned with the fighting that would ensue. "If you think that's overboard, then you're in for a rude awakening, I'm afraid." Nia strolled up behind Thomas, hands resting behind her back as usual.
"Am I wrong?"
"From here, any one of us could still reduce that carriage to splinters!" Proudly, the orc bragged, flexing her buff arm and laughing. "We'd have to go out of our way to do that, though!"
"S-seriously?
"Still think you can beat us?" Standing beside the man, the elf gave him a coy smile. "This is your last chance to call it off, you know? It'd save you a trip to the healer's."
Yet, without faltering, Thomas jutted his chin forward and planted his arms akimbo. "Nah, I'm not quitting that easy. I've got a fighting chance! Plus, we're already here, aren't we?"
Lips straightening into a thin line, Nia glared at the man before swinging around to rejoin the others. "Is that so? Well, it's your funeral."
With the girls lined up and ready, Thomas cleared his throat and proceeded to initiate the game. "Uh, thanks for taking the time to join me here, you three. I know you're eager to start, but before we continue, I'd like to go over the rules again. You each have one hour—"
"—to knock you off your feet with our magicks. If you land flat on your ass, we win. If we somehow run out of time, will, or mana, it's your win. Yada, yada, offence versus defence, get on with it," in an impatient tone, the halfling cut him off and yawned, chin resting on her palm.
"G-good, you have it memorised! Points for listening! I assume we're all aware of what's at stake. With that in mind, which one of you wants to go first? If you can't decide, you could always draw lots!"
Swiping her staff, the butch orcish girl leapt off the rock she sat on and strode up to the man, a toothy grin parting her full, bottle-green lips. Wrapped in her stubby, black-nailed fingers was a long rod made of gnarled, twisted wood, with roots twining around the lustrous jade orb at its tip. It looked like it was ripped straight from an ancient tree—conceivably by her own hands. "Never mind those two! I'll be the one that crushes you! That cool with you guys?"
Both Nia and Lilith exchanged glances and gave slight nods to one another.
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"Just don't kill him," the halfling calmly reminded her.
"Gretchen, eh? Can't wait to see what you have in store!" Thomas offered a handshake and beamed. "Let's play fair and give it our very best out there! And remember, what's important is that we have fun—!"
Brusquely, the orc walked past him, ignoring his outstretched hand. Despite this, the man kept his spirits high and maintained a smile on his face as he ambled into position. With a breadth of twenty paces between them, Gretchen and Thomas faced each other, Nia and Lilith serving as witnesses to their fight from afar. Noticing the man's lack of weaponry, the orcish girl scoffed. "Leave your stave at home, human?"
"Ah, I don't need one."
"No staff or wand? A user of light, are you? Or maybe dark? You sure have a lot of faith in whatever trick you have up your sleeve. Doesn't matter one bit, though! I'm still going to smash through it and beat you to a pulp!" Gretchen loudly declared.
"Looking forward to it!" Thomas gave her a thumbs-up and consulted a pocketwatch he'd borrowed from Grimwald. "Okay, your hour starts... now! Wait, how do you read this—?"
"Daar Craig!" Before the man could finish his inquiry, Gretchen gripped her staff with both hands and drove its tail end into the earth, embedding it firmly in the soil. And the spherical gem crowning the rod glowed a brilliant green. Within moments, the ground trembled, and the stone beneath its surface surged upward, drawn toward the orb. Gravel and rock snaked around the staff, shaping into a jagged spire; pebbles gathered at the orc's feet, coiling up along her legs.
As the cobbled mass enveloped Gretchen, encasing every inch of her figure in a second skin of hardened dirt, sod, and stone, Thomas crossed his arms, captivated by the display. "Man," he murmured, "her dossier wasn't kidding. She really does hold absolute mastery of earth magicks." In truth, the man had thoroughly looked into his pupils beforehand and knew their proclivities like the back of his hand. Thus, the girl's actions did not faze him in the slightest.
From accounts of the bouts between the delinquents and the professors who attempted to wrangle them, Thomas caught on to the fact that Gretchen often dove headfirst into battle, only using spells that enhanced her physical prowess. Blindsided by this unorthodox approach to magick combat, the seasoned sorcerers who came to expect a more traditional exchange of spells found themselves decimated in seconds.
It was for this reason she was the one usually sent out first to deal with those who challenged the girls. Yet that alone wasn't why she was able to emerge the victor in every confrontation; the man knew that. Every magus is born with the Gift: the ability to manipulate the natural world through forces poorly understood by way of spells, both spoken and written. And each Gift is bound to one of the six elements: earth, water, air, fire, and, very rarely, the forces of life and decay.
It is thought that a person's aptitude, the power of their spells and the amount of mana at their disposal was set in stone the moment they entered this realm, determined by their lineage, the alignment of the stars, and the ebb and flow of the unseen energies that shaped the land. As such, it was not the academy's job to teach a magus how to wield their Gift, but rather to refine it, to help them tap into the deeper potential that lay dormant within.
But in front of the man stood a girl whose innate talent was so immense, so peerless, that even her uncultivated strength—the mere tip of the iceberg—was enough to eclipse the greatest the world had to offer. That alone spoke to her value as a student of the academy. It was no wonder why Grimwald was so adamant in keeping her and the rest of the girls at the institution despite their unruly behaviour. And this was also why Thomas resolved to take them under his tutelage.
And when the last piece of stone locked into place, Gretchen let out a hearty laugh. "Behold, puny human! A view that'll haunt your dreams for life!" A giant suit of earthen matter had formed below her neck and towered over the man by several feet, the orb on her rod functioning as its unnatural green core. Rising from its knees, the colossal body of dirt and rock groaned, and the earth quivered as it stumbled to its feet.
"Whoa, that's amazing, Gretchen!" Thomas clapped, genuinely astonished by the structural integrity of her creation. "You're probably the only person who can erect and maintain a form like that!"
"Let's see if you're still smiling after I flatten you like a pancake!" Gretchen snarled. Clad in her rocky armour, the orc lurched forward, leaving ruts in the grass as she charged toward the man, the ground quaking with every bound she made. Yet Thomas did not waver, undaunted by the oncoming threat. And when she'd closed the distance, Gretchen slammed her massive stone fist down on him with unbridled force.
A bone-rattling boom shook the field, and a veil of debris erupted outward in the wake of impact, clouding the scene. Blades of grass swirled in the gust alongside falling grains of grit. Having put yet another arrogant grownup in their place, the orc smirked, satisfied with her handiwork. And as the deep rumble of the aftershock subsided, Lilith hopped to her feet and sauntered away, unimpressed.
"Welp, that's about what I expected," she remarked, indifferent to the man's wellbeing. "Alright, Nia, head over and heal the poor sucker up before he croaks. Oh, and have him bring us the sweets right away. Don't want him running off without making good on his end of the deal when we went through all the trouble coming out here. What a pain... why'd I even think to bring my sack of—"
"The fight isn't over yet, Lily," Nia said, violet eyes glued to the battleground.
"Huh?" Lilith whipped around. "You're joking, right? There's no way anyone, man or magus, could stand after that. Quit messing around and fix him up before..." When the dust settled, the halfling repeatedly blinked as if trying to reset her vision. And the smug curl in Gretchen's lips dissolved. Beneath her mighty fist, the outline of the musclebound man remained upright, unscathed, and decidedly uncrushed at the centre of the shallow crater.
In fact, upon closer inspection, Thomas had not budged a single inch.