The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

The next two days passed in a blur of relentless training. Every waking moment was spent preparing for the ranking matches, sharpening weaknesses, and drilling tactics into muscle memory. Team 55 had no room for errors—if they faltered in these battles, their progress would be dismissed as nothing more than luck.

Klaus watched his squad closely, noting the way their movements had become more refined. Their footwork was sharper, their reactions quicker, and, most importantly, they no longer moved as individuals. They moved as a unit.

Morning had barely arrived when they stood on the battlefield, facing their first opponent—Team 34.

The ranking match was held in Arena Six, a wide training ground enclosed by high stone walls. Soldiers and officers gathered around, murmuring in anticipation. This wasn't just another spar—this was an official ranking match, and the results would affect their standing within White Lion.

On the other side of the field stood Team 34, a squad known for its structured, methodical fighting style. Their leader, a tall man with sharp green eyes and a mid-tier cyan-core, observed Team 55 with quiet calculation.

Klaus met his gaze, his expression unreadable.

A White Lion official stepped between the two teams, raising his hand. "This will be a three-round battle. A team wins a round when they incapacitate or force all five members of the opposing team to surrender. Victory is determined by the best of three."

Klaus had already gone over the plan with his team. If Team 34 wanted structure, they would deny it to them at every turn.

"Begin!"

The moment the match started, Team 34 moved in perfect sync, their formation tight and unbreakable—five fighters forming a V-shape, with their leader at the back, directing them like a battlefield general.

But Klaus had anticipated this.

"Break their rhythm."

Alexandra and Juron surged forward, attacking at an angle instead of head-on. At the same time, Finn and Darius flanked from the sides, throwing off Team 34's carefully structured formation.

Klaus himself didn't attack. Instead, he moved within the chaos, analyzing their reaction speed.

Team 34 tried to regroup, but every time they attempted to stabilize their structure, Klaus gave a sharp order, and his team would strike in a way that forced them to shift again.

Disrupt, destabilize, overwhelm.

It took less than two minutes for Team 34's formation to completely collapse.

With their positioning broken, they became individual fighters instead of a unit—and against Team 55's speed and coordination, they stood no chance.

A few moments later, the first round was over.

Team 55 had won.

The second round began immediately, and this time Team 34 changed tactics. They abandoned their rigid formation in favor of a fluid, counter-focused approach, trying to mirror Team 55's unpredictability.

Klaus almost smiled. They were adapting.

It was a mistake.

Team 55 didn't need their structure to function. They had trained for chaos, for rapid adjustments, for changing strategies in real time.

As Team 34 struggled to mimic their flexibility, they became sloppy.

Finn and Darius exploited openings, striking at just the right moments. Alexandra's footwork kept her just out of reach of counterattacks, while Juron overwhelmed opponents with sheer power.

Klaus, meanwhile, remained an unseen presence, never engaging fully but always moving, always watching, directing the battlefield without standing in one place.

It was over even faster than the first round.

Team 55 won.

The spectators erupted in murmurs. A two-round sweep against a structured team like Team 34 was unheard of.

Klaus barely acknowledged the noise. This was just the first step.

He turned to his team. "We rest. Then we prepare for Team 27."

* * *

Barely an hour after their first victory, Team 55 was back in the arena.

Team 27 was a different beast entirely.

They didn't fight with structure or calculation. They fought like war hounds—relentless, powerful, overwhelming.

Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a low-tier blue mana core, cracked his knuckles, his aura flaring like an untamed flame. "You've made some noise," he called across the field. "Let's see if you can handle a real fight."

Klaus remained unfazed.

He had already devised the strategy.

Don't endure. Counter.

The match began, and Team 27 attacked instantly.

They came like a crashing wave, rushing forward with reckless speed, trying to bulldoze through Team 55 before they could react.

But Klaus had already seen it coming.

"Hold your ground."

Instead of meeting them head-on, Team 55 shifted positions at the last second, forcing Team 27 to overshoot their attacks.

Finn ducked under a wild swing and delivered a clean counterstrike to the ribs. Juron redirected an opponent's momentum, sending them sprawling. Alexandra slipped past a slower attacker and delivered a brutal cut to their shoulder.

Klaus himself barely fought—he didn't need to. He read their movements, seeing where their attacks would land before they even committed to them. Every mistake, every opening, was punished immediately.

Team 27 fought with brutality.

Team 55 fought with precision.

And precision won.

Team 27 did not accept their loss easily.

In the second round, they escalated their aggression. Their leader, furious at how easily Team 55 had countered them, began fighting with a reckless aura-enhanced assault, trying to break through with sheer force.

For a moment, it almost worked.

Finn took a heavy hit to the stomach, knocking him back. Darius barely avoided a strike that would've broken his ribs. Even Juron struggled against the sheer force of their opponents' attacks.

Klaus remained calm.

The moment Team 27 overextended, he gave the order.
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"Now."

They collapsed inward.

Using Phantom Step, Klaus blurred forward, breaking their leader's line of sight for a split second—long enough for Alexandra and Juron to deliver a perfectly timed dual strike to his exposed side.

A loud crack filled the air as Team 27's leader collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath.

And just like that—the fight was over.

Team 55 had won.

A stunned silence filled the arena.

The officials confirmed it. Team 55 had swept two ranking matches in a single day.

*

*

*

Later that night, Klaus sat alone in the training yard. His muscles ached, but his mind was sharp.

Team 55 was no longer just an underdog squad.

They were a rising force in White Lion.

Alexandra sat down next to him. "You're not celebrating with the others?"

Klaus shrugged. "Winning doesn't mean we stop improving."

She smirked. "You never stop thinking, do you?"

He glanced at her, blue eyes unreadable. "No."

She chuckled. "Well, enjoy this win. Because after today, I doubt White Lion will leave us alone."

Klaus knew she was right.

This was just the beginning.