1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

142. The Hidden Power

If Eruzel’s victory was a stunning upset that defied many expectations, Mircel’s duel was seen as a toss-up.

Rimlan of the third match was a sorcerer skilled in elemental magic.

It was no surprise that murmurs arose from the crowd.

“No matter how much of a genius he is, it’s going to be tough, right?”

“Of course. Elemental magic is like fighting two against one.”

The positions of spirits are quite varied, but the most troublesome for a swordsman is the tank.

To approach the shaman, one must pierce through the shield, which meant dodging spells far more than usual.

“And think about the age difference. The accumulated experience alone is different; do you really think he can win easily?”

“That’s true. You can’t underestimate practical experience.”

Not a single word they uttered was wrong.

But if the subject is Mircel, the story changes.

The experience of battling a sorcerer was something the Tenest family, with their top-tier masters and generous supply of elixirs, would not have withheld.

“And he’s still just a kid. In a place like this, with all eyes on him, he’ll be nervous, hesitating in the middle, won’t he? Every little thing is a weakness.”

I tore my gaze away from the chatterers nearby.

The expression on Mircel’s face, now atop the dueling ground, was one of boundless ease.

Rimlan, perhaps thinking he was being underestimated, scowled and drew his staff.

“Begin!”

With Professor Gomon’s signal, Mircel pulled out his wooden sword.

From the sigils drawn on Rimlan’s forearm, a spirit burst forth.

Whoosh!

It was a rabbit surrounded by blazing flames.

Rimlan shouted with a confident voice.

“If you’re so sure of yourself, swing away! I’ll turn that wooden sword to ash!”

Bang!

The rabbit came hurtling in like a firework on the verge of bursting. Its speed was akin to that of a released arrow.

Electricity crackled and sparked from Mircel’s sword.

Just as the rabbit was nearly upon him, Mircel thrust his wooden sword forward.

Boom!

The rabbit exploded into a shower of sparks. For a moment, all eyes were drawn to the spectacle.

Swish.

The tip of the wooden sword was now aimed squarely at Rimlan’s uvula.

“Gah!”

In the midst of Rimlan’s confusion, Mircel jabbed the tip into his throat.

Rimlan gasped, hands clutching at his neck. From the way his mouth flapped open and shut, it seemed words had abandoned him.

The audience fell into a hushed silence at the sudden turn of events.

It was Mircel’s calm voice that shattered the stillness.

“Don’t be too disheartened. That was me moving at full speed.”

“…”

“I must say, you seem more skilled than I expected.”

With those words, Rimlan’s right arm snapped with a sharp crack.

His face contorted in agony, yet only a strangled gasp escaped his lips.

Mircel then cleanly broke the remaining arm with his wooden sword.

Perhaps Rimlan didn’t look quite as unfortunate now.

As the duel ended in such a hollow manner, those who regained their senses began to murmur.

“What… what just happened?”

“Didn’t he close the distance in the blink of an eye while we were watching the rabbit explode?”

“Is that even possible? It was like a flash.”

What just transpired was a technique known as Thunder Step, favored by Aol.

It had the drawback of only being able to move in a straight line, but there was no technique as exceptional in combat against a mage.

“Well then, it’s about time for my turn.”

I turned my gaze to Kerdel.

He stood there, arms crossed, posturing like a big shot.

Ironically, he must be feeling like death inside.

—

It was only natural that, after witnessing the consecutive defeats of his closest aides, he believed he was fully prepared.

From the very start, there would be no room for complacency; it was clear he would give it his all.

Shall I conjure a scene that might offer him some solace?

As I drew my staff, Donathan asked in a flustered voice.

“What are you doing without a sword, Hursel?”

“Have you already forgotten that I am a wizard?”

I gripped the magical staff tightly, planting my feet firmly on the training ground floor.

* * *

Kendell felt a flicker of relief as he gazed at the staff held by Hursel.

Though he was but a first-year student of the Shulafe Academy, akin to a mere insect, he was nonetheless the eldest son of the renowned swordsmanship family, the Tenest.

One could not dismiss the possibility of hidden power.

‘Is this brat planning to face me with magic? He seemed so confident, I thought he would showcase his swordsmanship…’

It was not what he had anticipated, but for Kendell, it was a fortunate turn of events.

Surely, Atra had said as much.

No matter how one viewed the Shulafe Academy, it was a mystery how such a fool had managed to enter the magic department.

Before Professor Gomun signaled the start, Kendell raised his chin and spoke.

“I’ve heard about you. They say you’re a bit… peculiar? Seeing you with my own eyes, I can tell. You must be mad.”

Kendell genuinely believed this.

The very fact that he had entered a swordsmanship family while also enrolling in the magic department was a sign of insanity.

He wondered if he was relying too much on his younger siblings, but that was something he could not ascertain.

The mindset of a madman was utterly incomprehensible.

“There’s a saying: a mad dog is a hawk’s remedy. I hope this opportunity brings you some healing.”

As Kendell taunted, Hursel widened his eyes in surprise and asked.

“Is that baseless rumor from Selly?”

“Who is that?”

“My personal maid.”

‘…If his personal maid is saying such things, it must be more serious than I thought.’

As Kendell pondered this, Professor Gomun swiftly announced the start of the match.

“Begin!”

With a solemn expression, Hursel swung his staff. Kendell’s eyes widened in astonishment at the unexpected level of skill displayed.

—

The spell was precise, and its speed was swift.

‘The way he wields that staff is anything but ordinary. Could this brat be beyond the realm of a mere student?’

Just as the anxiety of what magic might come next gripped him, a flash of light erupted, and arrows of fire blossomed in a line.

Kerndel broke into a cold sweat at the astonishing sight.

‘No?!’

They were tiny fire arrows, no bigger than toothpicks.

Hershel, perhaps satisfied, grinned and asked, “What do you think?”

For a moment, Kerndel could not close his gaping mouth.

‘Was it just my imagination…? Indeed, this guy is a madman.’

Kerndel shook off the useless thoughts.

Then, gripping his wooden sword tightly, he walked forward as if on a leisurely stroll.

The fiery toothpicks whizzed past him, but such trivialities were easily deflected by the barrier of his magic.

Ping!

Hershel narrowed his eyes, sketching a new spell. This time, a mist as fine as lint from his pocket swirled into the air. It seemed to be a curse.

Kerndel blew out, dispersing the fog.

“Ha!”

Hershel, seemingly flustered, broke into a cold sweat. Yet, his hands continued to weave the incantation.

Kerndel felt an alien sensation creeping from his wrist.

Raising his arm, he found a weight hanging there.

But it bore no weight. Still, it was slightly itchy.

As he scratched at his wrist with his nails, the weight dissolved into dust.

Hershel spoke urgently, “D-Don’t come any closer! If you enter my range, my specialty spell will explode!”

A hint of fear laced his voice.

As laughter echoed around them, Kerndel let out a deep sigh.

It was a sigh tinged with self-loathing for having to deal with such a fool.

“Engaging with a wretch like you feels like a waste of time. But don’t think for a moment that I’ll go easy on you. You’ve sufficiently angered me.”

He was nearing the point of attack. Kerndel lifted his wooden sword lightly, ready to deliver a punishing blow.

First and foremost, the thought was to shatter the shoulder.

At that moment, Hershel’s eyes gleamed with a fierce light as he lowered his voice.

“Do you know what physical telekinesis magic is?”

“What kind of nonsense are you— Huh?!”

Kendell felt a chill run down his spine.

Instinctively, he unleashed all his aura, surrounding himself with a barrier against destruction.

His ability to sit in the seat of the first combatant was thanks to skills and insight that transcended the ordinary, along with a gut feeling.

And that judgment was correct.

Ping!

Hershel’s staff emitted an ominous energy, slicing through the air with a terrifying speed.

The target was his side.

‘This, this is dangerous!’

Crack!

Kendell felt the sharp pain of broken ribs as he coughed up blood.

“Cough!”

Hershel’s strike was not yet finished.

With a sweeping motion of his staff, he swung it through to the end, exposing Kendell’s gums to the wind as the skin of his face was torn back.

It was a full swing.

As Kendell flew through the air, his retinas caught glimpses of the training ground, where the heads of the spectators began to loom into view.

“Uh-oh? It’s coming down this way.”

“Get out of the way! It’s going to hit me!”

As he descended, the crowd panicked and scattered.

Bang!

Kendell, slammed into the ground, struggled to form words through his fading consciousness.

“Ma, magic? Ugh… That was just a hit with a staff, wasn’t it… Cough.”

And with that, Kendell lost consciousness.

Hershel looked down at him and replied, “I did say it was physical telekinesis magic, didn’t I?”

Physical telekinesis magic.

A spell that manifests telekinesis through the force of mana.

The one who pointed out Hursel’s signature magic instead of Kerdel was Donathan.

‘This b*stard, please don’t let him cheat just because he’s a wizard!’

‘Ah, why not? Even a hundred gold ultimately uses mana. And look, I’m holding a staff, not a sword!’

‘What kind of wizard beats people with a staff in this world!’

* * *

Even in summer, the dawn air is cold.

With hundreds of gold coins strapped to my legs, I practiced my footwork amidst the dew-laden grass.

I still needed to hone my skills.

In truth, defeating Kerdel was a stroke of luck.

Though he seemed a bit dim-witted, he was still a first-rate fighter.

Had I not lured him into a false sense of security, I would have been the one to take the first blow, and my ‘one-second invincibility’ would have been on cooldown, leaving me unable to deliver a decisive strike.

To avoid such situations, I had to be nimble enough to evade his attacks effortlessly.

“Haah, haah.”

‘You’re doing well, Hursel. Your footwork is getting faster, little by little.’

As I continued training until my back was soaked, my breath grew heavy.

Deciding to take a short break, I leaned against a tree and gazed up at the fortress.

With a sigh, I fell into thought.

“Haah.”

It had already been two days since the ten-man brawl ended.

To summarize the events that transpired, first, there was a small incident where Kerdel went on a rampage.

It seemed he had heard tales of the ‘Vermis, the Blood-Soaked Viper.’

-These b*stards, did they dare to deceive me!!

He attempted to take revenge on several people, starting with Atra, but it was all for naught.

-Consider it divine retribution, senior. Being so despised is proof that you’ve acted like a dog all this time.

-Ugh.

His demeanor changed to one of respect the moment I glanced his way.

Not merely out of fear.

It was because we had struck a deal.

-The position of first-rate fighter is hereby transferred to Kerdel.

I reinstated Kerdel to his place as the first-rate fighter once more.

—

Already intoxicated by the taste of power, he decided to comply without resistance.

Naturally, the protests from his close aides were fierce.

Especially from Bernadal, whose words flew back and forth like arrows.

– “Hersel, what in the world are you saying? You would return the position to such a wretch?”

Yet, there was a reason that this had to be done.

The golden ones, those who had sat in their original places until graduation, had to fulfill their roles as enemies to be vanquished by the main characters.

And then there was the student council.

The ones who would emerge as bosses in their second year.

If I were to sit in the first seat, I would inevitably have to interact with them every time I passed on some trivial task.

I wanted to avoid the situation of being marked by those with rotten intentions.

Thus, I persuaded my aides with a plan to catch two hares at once.

– “Kernadel will be my puppet. If he resists, I’ll beat him senseless, and I’ll just put someone else in his place.”

This was a declaration of intent to become the so-called behind-the-scenes power.

Of course, I had to leave the villains who would nurture the main characters to their own devices.

– “First, remove the ban on shower usage imposed on first-year Adele. The same goes for the cafeteria. Ah, but keep the punishments coming.”

This way, they would be driven by vengeance, growing stronger in their rage.

I kept it just enough to give them some breathing room.

And I emphasized the most crucial point to them.

– “Next, make sure my name never comes up in the student council. If they ask, just say I lost interest and resigned voluntarily. The same goes for the general students.”

This was to conceal the fact that I was the hidden power behind the student council and the main characters.

Fortunately, the golden ones accepted it without question.

It was thanks to my kind reminder of the potential consequences if they did not comply.

– “If you don’t do as I say, Kernadel, consider your life forfeit. And do you know that the vacant Dorothy is a classmate of mine? Speaking of which, should I invite her here sometime?”

The moment I mentioned Dorothy, the expressions of the golden ones twisted in fear.

And rightly so; Aros, who had been taken to the infirmary in the second round, seemed to have developed a trauma regarding her, declaring he would never set foot in the tenth round again.

It was impossible for those mere ants to defeat Dorothy, the apex predator of the ecosystem.

– “Speaking of which, should I invite her here sometime?”

I also knew how to keep her stationed in the tenth round lounge.

It would be easy, as long as I procured some illicit liquor to bring along.

Besides that, I had more cards up my sleeve.

—

– Follow along willingly, even if it does not please you. It would be wise not to plot rebellion. We can always outvote you lot.

Even if they succeed in their treachery, I can render all their efforts futile.

They have already seen Meldon, who has faced seven defeats, and Rimlan, who has faced three, confined by Erucel and Mircel.

If they need to be confined again, so be it.

– If you lot manage to oust Berndal and Emeric, showing signs of becoming the real power, my brothers will personally send you to the infirmary. Then, once more, the voting rate will tip in our favor.

With such a warning, they offered no retort.

Thus, I hid in the shadows and seized control of the ten factions, managing to steer the scenario back onto a somewhat normal track.

This marks the conclusion of the struggle for the ten factions.

All that remains is to pray for a smooth passage.

“May I graduate safely…”

As I closed my eyes in prayer, droplets began to fall.

Lifting my head, I realized the sky was starting to darken with ominous clouds.

“Damn it, the rainy season is upon us already.”

This was no ordinary downpour.

The rainy season of the first semester of the first year heralded the hint of new events.

For a while, the academy would likely be bustling.

* * *

The torrential rain poured down.

Swoosh—

The Frost Heart stronghold was perched high in the mountains.

While flooding was not a concern, the steep terrain could not escape the erosion of the soil.

Professor Gomon frowned at the sight of puddles forming in the ground he was digging.

His hobbies included exploring dungeons and artifacts.

Indeed, many among the pathfinders were drawn to such pursuits, but Professor Gomon was particularly intense in his obsession.

“Ugh, this rain is troublesome. Isn’t it, Stone Bear?”

The stone bear beside him nodded in agreement.

“Hmm. There must be a secret here.”

Professor Gomon felt a restless itch within him.

For days, he had been scouring the academy’s ancient texts, staying up all night.

In that search, he had uncovered clues that this land was suspicious, and while he had begun his work, it was now on hold for the time being.

—

“Shall I draw the water with magic? No, who knows what’s buried in there? If I do that carelessly, it might all be ruined.”

Digging into the earth is a delicate task.

He had seen countless fools shatter relics with a single misstep.

Professor Gomon turned his back, leaving his disappointment behind.

“Ah, it’s opened, it’s opened.”

But then the Stone Bear tugged insistently at his robe.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

The Stone Bear pointed at a puddle of water.

From it rose orbs and long sticks. They were nearly white.

“Whoa! There’s something there!”

With a careful flick of his mind, Professor Gomon levitated them closer.

What he had thought were orbs and sticks were human bones.

“What is this?”

Yet, there were more than a few suspicious details.

“If they’re bones, they should normally sink in water, right? And they look a bit odd too.”

Concerned, Professor Gomon began to align the bone fragments one by one with his telekinesis, and soon his eyes widened in shock.

For on the skull’s forehead, two small horns jutted out—horns that no human should possess.

Moreover, there were more bones than a typical human would have.

“Hmm.”

With his keen interest in archaeology, Professor Gomon quickly deduced what organs the remaining bones might belong to.

“Tailbone and wing bones?”

There was a possibility of it being a creature of a peculiar lineage, but that required a more detailed investigation.

Professor Gomon grinned slyly.

If this turned out to be a major discovery, the academic world would be in an uproar, and he might even receive a medal from the headquarters, etching his name into the Mage Tower.

With a buoyant step, Professor Gomon carried the bones to his laboratory.