How To Survive Clichés

Chapter 10

“Yes.”

As Demian’s name was called, the students’ gazes split in three directions: Princess Yuri Elloa, Aite, and Damian. For a fleeting moment, a look of surprise crossed Princess Yuri Elloa’s face, though most of the students didn’t notice. In their eyes, the princess was staring at the platform with her usual cold expression, Aite was smiling cheerfully as always, and Damian… descended towards the platform with a calm expression.

Even though his face seemed as if he had expected this, it didn’t come across as arrogant. Rather, his dignity and poise befitted someone from a prestigious family of magic. Whether as he walked down towards the platform or as he stood face-to-face with Professor Morax, there was no sign of awkwardness. It was as natural as water flowing from a higher place to a lower one. Damian standing on the platform looked perfectly at ease, as if he belonged there.

This sight made the students feel a strange sense of incongruity, and a thought crossed their minds.

‘The rumors might not be true.’

During the dormitory allocation test, no one had sensed mana from the box, so they attributed his success to luck, believing his score of 10 points was just a continuation of that luck. However, seeing Damian on the platform made them begin to suspect he might not be as untalented as they thought. Of course, much of this doubt stemmed from his background, the Draco family.

“Hey, maybe he’s not so talentless after all.”

“Why?”

“Well, he got 10 points yesterday and today. Doesn’t it seem a bit different from the rumors? And more importantly… he’s from the Draco family.”

“Is that so? A friend of mine at the Calathio Magic School saw him during evaluations and said he was so untalented that even calling him mediocre would be generous.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And if he truly had any talent, there’s no way rumors about him being disowned by his family would have spread. Look at Draco’s second son. Unlike the eldest, he’s said to be overflowing with talent and is treated with the utmost care.”

“That’s true.”

Hearing this, a few nearby students had expressions of mixed pity and ridicule. After all, with witnesses and sources, such rumors were unlikely to be baseless. Each student looked at Damian with different intentions. Some noble students observed him to see if he could be used to form new alliances, while some commoners gauged whether he could be mocked as a new subject of ridicule.

Before long, Professor Morax opened his mouth. All eyes focused on him.

“Is there a volunteer willing to duel with Damian Draco?”

As soon as the professor finished speaking, the room became instantly chaotic. The students began scanning the room, searching for who might step forward as an opponent.

“Who will step up?”

“Hey, didn’t you say you decided who to fight in the last duel? You go.”

“If it were a sword duel, I’d already be out there. But this isn’t about using swords. Why don’t you go instead?”

“Ugh, I’m not risking getting myself into trouble.”

While many students still thought little of Damian, no volunteers easily came forward. Most of the noble students chose to observe from the sidelines, and most of the commoners feared becoming targets of retribution, as Damian had a notorious reputation as a troublemaker. If anyone were to step up, it would have to be someone with enough rank and skill to not care about Damian’s reputation or someone with a different motive, like revenge.

The students, unaware of this, began turning their gazes towards those who might qualify for the former—Princess Yuri Elloa and Aite. Just as the attention was splitting in two directions again, someone confidently raised their hand from among the crowd.

“I’ll do it.”

It was a student who fit the latter category.

* * *

Riword was the son of a humble merchant family from the Draco family’s territory. Becoming an ordinary merchant like his father was his destined path. At least, that was the case until he awakened to mana at the age of fifteen.

‘How fortunate.’

If he hadn’t awakened to mana and entered Aethis Magic School, the day he could take revenge on that scoundrel might never have come. Riword calmed himself down, recalling the grudge he held against Damian Draco from several years ago.

That day when the scoundrel, drunk, had destroyed not only the goods in the shop but also the merchandise for sale. After that incident, the shop had to close until it was restored, leading to massive losses. Although the lord had immediately compensated them, they lost trust from customers for failing to meet their contracts on time, and as a result, their reputation took a hit. In a business that thrived on word of mouth, their fortunes naturally declined. His brother and father had suffered greatly because of it. And yet, that brat didn’t even remember.

“When was that? Oh, didn’t like it? You should’ve sold better stuff then.”

His arrogant expression, tone and brazen attitude. Damian Draco was a scoundrel to the core. Riword had dreamed of the day he could get revenge on that brat, and now, he had the chance to humiliate him in front of everyone.

‘I can’t let this opportunity slip away.’

Riword recalled how Damian Draco absolutely hated the rumor spreading about his lack of talent. He used to storm off in a rage at anyone in the territory who made fun of it. For the students here, it was still an unverified rumor. But once his lack of skill was exposed for all to see and the rumor was confirmed as fact, his fragile pride would surely crumble. Especially if he lost to a commoner, not a noble?

People would mock him for years to come.

‘Let’s see him suffer.’

Of course, this alone wouldn’t be enough to repay his grudge. A smirk crept across Riword’s face. He was chuckling inwardly, lost in thought, when Professor Morax gave his approval.

“Very well. Come down to the platform.”

Cheers rang out from parts of the room, while others criticized Riword for daring to challenge a noble. It was possible only because no one expected Damian to win. The more they cheered, the more confident Riword felt as he stepped forward. But as he neared the platform, an uneasy feeling started to creep in.

‘What is this?’

The cause was Damian’s demeanor.

…He seemed so calm.

Even though his lack of skill was about to be exposed, he remained composed. Just standing there, just staring at him, Damian exuded an aura that felt unreachable.

And…

Damian’s eyes were looking at him, yet they seemed to be peering into a different dimension.

‘…’

It felt as though everything about him was being laid bare. Tension swept over Riword’s entire body.

‘Am I really sensing this kind of power from that brat?’

For a moment, Riword was shaken by the unfamiliar sensation, but he quickly shook his head.

‘No way.’

Just a month or two ago, during the break, he hadn’t sensed any power from Damian as the brat drunkenly wandered the estate. It was impossible for someone to suddenly gain skill or talent in two months. Soon, the unease faded as quickly as it had come.

‘Of course. You’re still the same worthless fool.’

Instead, anger fueled his resolve. ‘I’ll teach you a lesson.’

Although he couldn’t injure Damian as he could during combat training, he could easily make sure the brat wouldn’t leave his bed for days. He could already picture Damian coughing up blood and collapsing. Smiling secretly at the thought, Riword heard the professor begin to explain.

“Both of you, stand at opposite ends of the platform. Imagine you’re facing an enemy in real battle. Cast your spells at the mana doll in front of you. The one whose doll’s gauge depletes first loses.”

“Understood.”

At that moment, a mana doll appeared in front of them. Following Professor Morax’s gesture, a protective barrier spell was drawn in the air, forming a transparent shield over the platform. As soon as the barrier was fully in place—

“Begin.”

The professor signaled the start of the duel, and as soon as he finished speaking, an arrow was fired.

Whoosh—

The arrow flew through the air, slicing through the space with terrifying speed.

The arrow zipped past the mana doll and grazed someone’s cheek before embedding itself in the protective barrier. The arrow, lodged in the wrong place, instantly flared up red and vanished. At the same time, a thin red line appeared across the side of someone’s face.

“Oh.”

Riword quickly covered his mouth and lowered his head, hiding the smirk forming on his lips. He didn’t forget to apologize, pretending it had been an accident.

“Oh dear, I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

He half-covered his face with his hand while glancing at Professor Morax and Damian from the corner of his eye.

‘Did they notice?’

The professor stared back impassively. But Damian…

‘…Is he smiling?’

That brat was smiling, as if he found this situation amusing. A surge of anger rose within Riword. Unconsciously, he lowered the hand that had been covering his face, fully revealing his expression. He glared at Damian, his face twisted into a scowl, and began sharpening his mana.

‘Let’s see if you’re still smiling in a minute.’

Once Damian’s gauge was almost depleted, Riword planned to pour all his mana into an arrow and aim it at Damian under the guise of another “mistake.”

‘Let’s finish this.’

Whoosh—

This time, the arrow hit the doll squarely.

Thunk!

Thwack, thwack!

Before the first arrow even had time to burn, several more followed in quick succession. The three arrows lodged in the doll relentlessly burned it down. Damian’s gauge began depleting rapidly. And yet, there was no movement from him. Riword’s eyes gleamed.

‘Out of mana, are you?’

Even with more than half of his gauge gone, Damian didn’t seem inclined to retaliate. Riword didn’t let up.

Thunk!

Whooosh—

After several more successful strikes, Damian’s gauge was nearly empty. One more arrow, and it would be over. Riword poured all the mana he had honed into his final arrow, enough to be dangerous, potentially harming even Damian standing behind the doll. Riword smiled in satisfaction.

‘This is it.’

With this, he would prove the rumors of Damian’s magical incompetence and mana deficiency to everyone. And he would have his revenge. As the form of the arrow took shape menacingly in midair—

Thunk—

A sound came from near Riword.

‘What?’

Looking around, Riword’s gaze fell on his own mana doll.

“What?”

His doll was already pierced by an arrow, engulfed in flames, and its gauge was completely depleted. With just a single arrow—one he hadn’t even seen fired—it had been reduced to nothing.

“When did…?”

His confusion was brief, as the next moment brought an even greater shock.

“What… What is this?!”

Just as he hurriedly aimed an arrow at Damian in frustration, he realized that an arrow had already pierced his mana doll and was now hovering right in front of his eyes. It was so close that the slightest movement would surely cause it to stab him in the eye.

Riword stood frozen, unable to move a muscle.

“H-how…!”

His mouth barely managed to form the words when Professor Morax’s voice rang out.

“The match is decided.”

As soon as the professor spoke, the arrow in front of him vanished. In its place, Riword’s vision was filled with the image of Damian, a smile on his face as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Riword couldn’t accept the result.

* * *

‘…This is tough.’

It was even harder than during the tutorial.

His body writhed in extreme pain. It felt as though his blood was boiling from deep within, possibly due to the backlash of using all his mana. It seemed like he might cough up blood and collapse at any moment.

But despite the pain, he felt an odd sensation.

He was enjoying this more than he expected.

Using magic alone during the tutorial or test was on a completely different level compared to using it in a direct battle.

And then…

[Achievement unlocked: Victory in the Trial Duel]

That message appeared.

Before checking the reward, I closed the pop-up window, pretending to hold my head.

‘I’ll look at it later.’

There were too many eyes on me right now. But I couldn’t hide my expression, as I could feel the corners of my mouth lifting into a smile. Across from me was Riword’s face, twisted with rage, flushed red with anger.

He was openly displaying his hostility, his face burning with fury.

As I looked at him, a thought occurred to me.

‘…Is this another cliché?’

I hadn’t realized it until I checked the status window. I had simply thought of him as just another commoner student who underestimated Damian.

But from the moment he pretended it was an accident and injured my cheek, I knew he had a grudge against me.

Although I didn’t know exactly who he was.

It made me think: if even a third-rate villain like him gets this kind of development, then…

‘Maybe even minor villains count as villains.’

It was then that he pointed a finger at me and shouted,

“I cannot accept this! He must have used some kind of trick!”

Isn’t this too much of a cliché?