Struggle

In the Grobe Basin, the rain gradually subsided, but the air remained damp.

Duncan, Lichta, and Laufen walked slowly along a slightly muddy path.

"Grandpa, where are we going? Our magic is almost gone. Maybe we should find a place to hide and wait until the exam is over..."

Duncan didn't turn around; his sharp gaze swept ahead.

"Found it."

He lowered his voice, signaling the two to stop.

Duncan, Lichta, and Laufen hid behind several thick, ancient trees, watching intently.

Not far ahead, beside a rock wall, two mages sat leaning against it, looking somewhat dejected. Their mage robes were badly tattered, and their faces showed exhaustion. One of them was tightly clutching a Birdcage wrapped in cloth.

"It was a defeated squad that fled." Duncan narrowed his eyes, his voice low. "There were only two of them. The third... should be dead. Even though they were already disqualified, they were still carefully holding the Stille."

Lichta leaned against the tree trunk, analyzing expressionlessly. "Judging from the residual magic, it must have been a monster that defeated them, not another squad. Really, guys who can't even beat Corpse-Luring Bird want to become First-Class Mage? Oh well, that's fine then. Are you going to negotiate, Duncan?"

"They won't respond." Duncan shook his head, his voice low. "If it were me, I wouldn't hand over the Stille no matter how much money they offered. It's a matter of principle."

Laufen crouched behind a shrub with small white flowers, her hands gripping the leaves, revealing half her face. The pose made her look rather cute.

"Why, old man? They've already lost their teammates and can't pass the exam according to the rules. What use is the Stille now?"

Duncan stared at the two men, his eyes showing no emotion.

"Because I'm annoyed," he said calmly. "There's no logic to this. Even if I don't need what I've worked so hard to get, I don't want to easily give it away to others, especially... people who use such undignified methods to force them. Anyway, if it were me, I wouldn't hand it over no matter what, so let's skip the negotiation."

He paused for a moment, then began to make arrangements.

"Laufen, you stay here. Even if you can't use magic, run. Find the right opportunity later and seize the Stille."

"Lichta," he said, turning to his teammate beside him, "Come with me."

Lichta stood up expressionlessly, brushing the bark scraps off her clothes. "What are you planning to do? We've run out of magic."

Duncan didn't answer, but instead began unbuttoning his mud-stained black mage robe. His movements were slow and deliberate, carrying a strange sense of ritual.

He casually tossed his robe onto the nearby bushes, revealing the dark, close-fitting undergarment underneath.

He stretched his neck, making a slight "crack" sound, and calmly looked at the two people in the open space.

"You know perfectly well," Duncan said, his voice low but clear, "Out of magic? The other side is in the same situation."

The two mages also noticed the commotion, struggled to their feet, and looked wary and tense, holding the Birdcage even tighter.

Lichta's lips twitched as she looked at Duncan's posture.

"... Are you kidding me? You're almost eighty years old, aren't you?"

Duncan had already started walking towards the two men. His footsteps rustled softly on the damp fallen leaves.

"Who's joking with you?" He didn't turn around, his voice drifting back on the wind. "I've told you before, what does Court Mage like me, who has climbed up from blood-stained battlefields and wallowed in the mire of power, do when he's at his wit's end?"

He stopped, standing no more than seven or eight meters away from the two tense mages. Both could clearly see the weariness in each other's eyes, as well as the undisguised hostility.

Duncan slowly adopted a basic, even somewhat clumsy, unarmed fighting stance.

"I will struggle ugly until the very last moment."

The moment he finished speaking, he moved.

There was no magical light, no incantation. It was just an old man running, raising his fist, and smashing it hard at the mage who looked at least fifty years younger than him.

"Bang!"

A dull thud of flesh colliding rang out.

The battle began in the most primal and direct way.

On the other side.

Rabiñe rode on Kanne's back.

"It's all your fault! You misdirected the water flow at the last moment! Otherwise, that old man would have been sent flying even further, and he wouldn't have had a chance to stand up!" she said, while grabbing and pulling hard on Kanne's pigtails.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch... I didn't! You were just a beat too slow in Frozen!" Kanne waved his arms below, but didn't really put up a fight. "And in the end, we won, didn't we!"

Kanne tried to grab her hair back, and the two wrestled. Finally Rabiñe skillfully flipped over and straddled Kanne, grabbing her pigtails and pulling them upwards with increased force.

Ouch! You're going to rip your hair out! I'll kill you!

"Give it a try!"

Frieren watched the familiar scene unfold before her quietly. Her emerald eyes blinked, and the corners of her mouth turned down, forming her signature cat-like mouth, tinged with helplessness and a hint of disdain.

She didn't say anything, but silently took out two pieces of honey hard candy wrapped in oil paper from her small bag, unwrapped one, and put it in her mouth, her cheeks puffing out slightly.

A few birdsongs drifted faintly from afar, mingling with the soft sounds of two people playfully wrestling nearby. The light and shadow beneath the rock face moved slowly.

Further into the woods.

"Mental Suggestion Magic," Edel, casting a spell on the Stille in front of her, watching the little bird fly into her cage on its own. "Finally caught it."

Inside the cave.

Fern sat on a rock, took out a water bottle from her bag, and sipped her water. Her long, pale purple hair, which had been wet, was now dried, making the red ribbon at the back of her head particularly eye-catching.

Ubel stood behind Fern, her usual smile on her face. She reached out and gently pinched Fern's soft cheeks with her index finger and thumb, pulling them apart slightly.

"Ugh..." Fern protested in a daze, her mouth full of water, her pale purple eyes calmly looking at Ubel, trying to express her dissatisfaction with her eyes.

"Oh, don't be so serious, my little cutie Fern ~" Ubel chuckled and gently pinched him again. "Thanks to you for 'mediating' earlier, come on, give me a smile?"

"Miss Ubel, please let go." She tried to remain calm, but her voice was muffled by the pinched cheeks.

"No~ I'm so grateful for your help just now, let me touch your face as a thank you gift~" Ubel pressed his advantage, reaching out with his other hand to cup and rub Fern's face. "It feels so good~ You always have such a stern face, but your cheeks are so soft~"

Fern slapped her hand away, turned her head, and continued drinking water, leaving Ubel with only an expressionless profile and slightly puffed-out cheeks.

"Miss Ubel, please stop now."

Lanto put on his glasses, which he had just wiped clean, glanced at them, and said nothing.

Inside a naturally formed cave on the edge of the basin.

Wirbel, Ehre, and Scharf sat around a small, barely lit campfire. The flickering firelight illuminated their faces, each with a different expression.

A clearing in the woods.

The battle is over.

Duncan leaned against a tree, slightly out of breath. He had several noticeable bruises and abrasions on his body, and a cut on the corner of his mouth with a few drops of blood seeping out. His brown hair was stuck to his forehead, making him look somewhat disheveled.

Laufen knelt beside him, holding clean strips of cloth and water, and was helping him clean his wounds and wrap bandages.

"Old man, you really are..." she muttered softly, her hands still moving, "... to actually use your fists..."

"As long as it works."

Not far away, Lichta sat on a rock, straightening his once-neat clothes, which were also somewhat wrinkled and stained with mud and grass juice. His meticulously styled hair was disheveled, and his face bore a few bruises, but his expression remained that of a listless, dead fish.

He looked at the stains on his clothes that he couldn't shake off, then at Duncan being bandaged over there, and finally just sighed and shook his head.

Beside him lay the Birdcage, wrapped in cloth, that he had snatched from the other man. One corner of the cloth was loosened, revealing the Stille inside.

The sunlight finally pierced through the clouds, pouring down in large swaths and illuminating the forest clearing. Tiny water droplets clung to the damp leaves and tips of the grass, reflecting a dazzling light.

There is about an hour left until the first exam ends.