The Grand Tournament (I)

In the palace, Donald knelt facing south alongside the royal family of the Feymont Empire in the Prayer Chamber, built specifically for the Divine Grace ritual. There, he received the blessing of Divine Grace.

The God Priest's body slowly began to glow. Unlike the dazzling gold of Battle Qi, the light before them was a pure, holy white. It gradually grew brighter, enveloping the God Priest completely before continuing to spread forward until it reached Donald, who was the farthest away.

Donald felt as though he had entered a strange state. It was as if he had returned to the warmth of the womb, or was immersed in an ocean of light. Every part of his body felt blissfully comfortable.

The process of Divine Grace lasted about ten minutes. When it was over, the God Priest went to rest. As usual, he would leave that evening and wouldn't attend the grand tournament the following day.

Lucia stole a glance at Donald, her cheeks flushed. He couldn't tell whether it was the effect of Divine Grace or embarrassment over the crazy things she had said earlier.

To avoid an awkward moment, Donald pretended not to notice. When Lucia saw that he didn't react, she pouted and stormed off.

After carefully checking himself over, Donald found no obvious changes. For the moment, he couldn't figure out what effect Divine Grace had had on him.

By the time he returned to the inn, it was already afternoon. Donald didn't tell Wesley that he had received Divine Grace, afraid it might bring back memories of his late mother.

The next day, the Martial Magic Tournament officially entered the competition stage.

The Imperial Arena stood in Upper City, on the banks of the Bol River. Aside from Faimon Palace, it was the most magnificent building in Koennas City. Seen from above, the round arena looked like a silver clasp fastened to a blue ribbon. It could hold a full hundred thousand spectators, and from the highest seats, one could take in the beautiful scenery of the entire ancient city.

When the king and a host of honored guests appeared in the most prestigious seats, the crowd erupted in deafening cheers. Donald noticed that, as expected, the God Priest had already left. Cynthia Vida and the Dwarf were nowhere to be seen, either.

Fewer than a hundred young people had qualified to compete in the tournament after the regional selections. Their teachers led them to the Contestant Area, not far from the VIP seats, where they sat in orderly rows.

"Dean Devis, why are you leading the team this year? It's been ages since I saw students from Tris Magic Academy at the tournament. I thought your academy had closed down."

A professor with a neatly trimmed mustache, from some provincial magic academy Donald didn't recognize, made the jab. The people around them burst out laughing.

"I heard the Martial Magic Tournament in Tris Province was canceled because of Eli Siril's rebellion. How did you choose the top three? Don't tell me your academy was allowed to send two representatives this time just to save the emperor's alma mater some face."

News of the rebellion in Tris Province had spread, but few people knew the details of how it had been put down. Of the students representing the province at the tournament, only Roger wore armor. Anyone could tell that Donald and Wesley were from a magic academy.

Dean Devis sat motionless, ignoring the various barbed remarks from his colleagues.

Roger looked disgusted. Although he was a student at Tris Knight Academy, and the mockery seemed to have nothing to do with him, he still couldn't stand the sight of those people.

Donald saw Wesley shift slightly and knew he was about to say something shocking again.

Sure enough.

"Don't you know? Tris Magic Academy closed down ages ago. Even the academy grounds have been turned into farmland... Those northerners are lazy and stupid, so they have to rely on food from Tris Province to stay alive. And yet the Empire still refuses to cut our Magic Crystal Quota. It's such a headache..."

Tris Province was the southernmost province of the Empire, as well as its largest grain-producing region. In recent years, the Feymont Empire had been cutting the Magic Crystal Quota for its magic academies—except for Tris Magic Academy.

Every one of Wesley's remarks hit the hecklers where it hurt. But they were too proud to argue with a student, and none of the students from the other teams dared speak as boldly as Wesley in a setting like this.

After a few cold snorts, the crowd finally quieted down.

A girl dressed like a Magic Apprentice, seated a few rows ahead, turned around and glared furiously at Wesley. He winked at her, and she hurriedly turned back, startled.

Donald and Roger couldn't help laughing. Wesley looked pleased with himself.

When the names were submitted, Donald had been designated the top representative from Tris Province's Martial Magic Tournament, which allowed him to enter the second round directly. Wesley and Roger had to start in the first round.

Roger's first opponent was, like him, a Squire.

Roger took the upper hand as soon as the match began. His opponent was forced to take a desperate gamble and drive Roger back. Then he launched an all-out attack.

The pace of the battle suddenly quickened. They darted past each other, swords flashing—then, just as the spectators all rose to their feet, the fighters came to a sudden stop.

Amid the cheers that filled the arena, Roger stood calmly, his sword resting against his opponent's neck.

Wesley's opponent was a Magic Apprentice. His teacher was the mustached professor who had been the first to mock Dean Devis.

"You good-for-nothing! Let's see how long you can keep running your mouth!" The Magic Apprentice was clearly still holding a grudge over Wesley's earlier remarks. As he passed him, he muttered the insult under his breath.

"What? You're actually trying to pay me off to throw the match? What kind of person do you take me for?" Wesley suddenly cried out.

"I didn't! He's slandering me..." His opponent broke out in a cold sweat. He had never imagined Wesley would say something like that.

The arena referee looked suspicious. He had indeed seen the contestant move his lips when he approached Wesley, but hadn't heard what he said.

"What do you think this tournament is? Referee, I refuse to compete against someone like him! This is despicable!" Wesley cried, looking outraged.

By now, the audience was booing.

Sitting in the stands, Donald couldn't have heard exactly what the contestant said, either. But knowing Wesley, the other guy had definitely been framed.

Seeing Wesley's righteous expression, Donald thought that even if he couldn't become a poet, he'd make a fine actor.

"I've overcome so many hardships to get here, and you... You would actually use filthy money to sully this sacred arena! You're..." Wesley grew more and more impassioned, completely stirring up the audience.

Only a few people from Tris Province, sitting in the stands, knew that Wesley hadn't even entered the Martial Magic Tournament in the first place. He had probably gotten his spot by making that strange cry that drew Eli's attention. Donald had no idea how Wesley could claim he had overcome so many hardships.

In the VIP seats where King Auston sat, Lucia struggled to hold back her laughter, afraid her father would notice.

The referee went to the side of the arena and conferred with a few officials. Then he returned to the platform and announced that the Magic Apprentice had been disqualified.

The man felt grievously wronged. Tears streamed down his face as he cursed and shouted abuse at Wesley.

Wesley kept up his righteous air as he sauntered off the field and returned to the Tris Province team.

Donald and Roger tried hard to hold back their laughter. Wesley kicked Donald lightly under the table, yet his expression didn't change in the slightest.

"Devis, you've certainly taught your students well." The mustached professor who had mocked them earlier spoke again, his voice bitter. Knowing his student, he was sure something was fishy. But with the audience so incensed, he could only hold his temper for now and hope for a chance to get even later.

Whatever methods they had used, both of Tris Province's remaining contestants made it through. Donald represented the province in the second round first, facing a Squire.

To ensure he could defend himself if the need arose, Donald kept the Magic Staff he always carried with him.

Before the match, his opponent had objected to the staff, since the Martial Magic Tournament didn't allow the use of any magical items.

The Referee Panel inspected the Magic Staff carefully. They found no sign of an inscribed Magic Array, nor could they detect any magical fluctuations. They concluded it was just an ordinary metal rod. Since one contestant was allowed to use a sword, Donald was naturally permitted to use the rod as well.

After this little interruption, the match began.

After his duel with Aldrich, Donald already knew that basic Wind Element and Wood Element attack spells were almost useless against a Squire whose entire body was protected by armor. So he started by casting the Sixfold Stone Spike Spell.

To avoid drawing unnecessary attention in such a large venue, Donald moved his lips as he cast the spell, pretending to chant an incantation. In fact, he didn't make a sound.

This opponent was even weaker than Aldrich. After one round of Stone Spikes, he could barely move and could hardly keep hold of his sword.

Seeing this, Donald simply stopped casting spells. He walked up and knocked the man's sword away with his Magic Staff. Throughout the match, of course, he kept Blazing Meteor—the Thirty-Eight Yuan Fire Magic spell he had practiced for more than half a month—ready in his Sea of Consciousness in case of an emergency.

When Donald raised his Magic Staff again and pretended he was about to bring it down on his opponent, the referee finally stepped in and declared him the winner.

The crowd had already erupted when Donald unleashed a barrage of Stone Spikes as dense as a meteor shower. When they saw the Magic Apprentice knock the Squire's sword away with an iron rod, laughter drowned out the cheers.

The professors and team leaders from the magic academies around the Empire frowned when they saw the power of Donald's Stone Spike Spell, secretly alarmed. By rights, Stone Spikes this small shouldn't have been able to leave a High-level Squire so helpless, no matter how densely they struck.

In the VIP seats, Magician Clark looked disdainful as he said coldly, "King Auston, is this little hero the one who rescued Princess Lucia several times with that iron rod?"

Before King Auston could respond, Princess Lucia answered first. "That's his Magic Staff."

Clark had seen the strange iron rod in Donald's hand at the palace the day before. But it clearly showed no trace of Magic Element—how could it be a Magic Staff? To him, Lucia's words sounded like a childish excuse.

Prince Geoffrey, sitting beside Clark, looked even more grim.

After a few more matches, Wesley took the field again. This time, his opponent was also a Squire.

Before the referee announced the start, the opponent kept his distance from Wesley, clearly unwilling to let him get close. He was probably afraid Wesley would pull the same trick again.

As soon as the match began, Wesley fired off a Wind Blade.

The Wind Blade was clearly larger and more imposing than Donald's Sixfold Wind Blade, and its power was greater, too.

Wind Element magic was the fastest of the Five Elements. The Squire facing Wesley realized he couldn't dodge in time, so he could only take the hit head-on. A sharp crack rang out. It felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He looked down to see a large dent in his armor, with a small tear in the middle.

"Intermediate Magic Apprentice!" someone in the Contestant Area shouted.

The spell Wesley had just used was a Twenty-Eight Yuan Wind Blade, something only an Intermediate Magic Apprentice could master. He looked only sixteen or seventeen—seventeen, in fact, the same age as Donald—yet he'd already met the admission requirements of the Imperial Capital Magic Academy. No wonder the announcement drew so many startled cries.

In fact, after two and a half months of practicing the new Meditation Method, Wesley's Wind Element Divine Element was already close to six hundred. In another ten days or so, he would be able to advance to High-level Magic Apprentice.

The Squire had been misled by Wesley's exaggerated antics and thought he was only good at cheap tricks. The powerful Wind Blade startled him into taking Wesley seriously at last.

Like any Squire facing a Magic Apprentice, he immediately charged at Wesley.

Wesley paused for a moment, then held out both hands. This time, no Wind Blade appeared. Just as the audience thought he had failed to cast his spell, the Squire sprinting toward him suddenly fell to the ground. He tumbled forward, and by the time he stopped, his helmet had fallen off.

A dense patch of thorns had somehow sprung up where he had run.

"Wood Element Thorn Spell! He's a dual-element Magic Apprentice!"

Thorn Spell was also something only an Intermediate Magic Apprentice could master. It was usually used outdoors to slow down or trap beasts. Nobody had expected Wesley to use it here.

First, he had launched a Wind Blade to make his opponent think he was a Wind Element Magic Apprentice. When the Squire hurried in to close the distance, Wesley struck again. The man thought he was about to be hit by another Wind Blade, only to be tripped by the unexpected Thorn Spell.

The way Wesley read his opponent's state of mind, chose his spells, and cast them so quickly—all three elements had subtly combined to create the theatrical scene before them.

The Squire's helmet had fallen off, and before he could get up, the wind howled beside his ears. Two smaller Wind Blades struck the sandy ground near his head one after another. He covered his head with both hands, afraid to move in case the next Wind Blade hit him.

The referee immediately declared Wesley the winner. The spectators rarely got to see such a clever fight, and the arena erupted in cheers.

In the Contestant Area, the mustached professor's face was ice-cold. He clearly hadn't expected both students sent by Tris Magic Academy to have such skill. Still, he had another card up his sleeve. As long as his team claimed the top spot in the end, he could still leave Devis speechless.

At last, Roger faced a Magic Apprentice. This Low-level Magic Apprentice's spells posed little threat to him. Once Roger got close, his opponent immediately surrendered.

At this point, all three contestants from Tris Province had made it into the third round. It was the province's best result in nearly ten years.

When the second round ended, the first day of the tournament was over. The remaining thirty-two contestants would compete in five rounds, with thirty-one matches in total, the next day—the final day of the tournament.

For the three contestants from Tris Province, the real test had only just begun.

(This book has officially been renamed Magic High Student. The change was mainly for commercial reasons, but in my heart, this book will always keep its old name.)