Grand Gathering (1)

In the palace, inside the Prayer Chamber built specially for the Divine Grace ceremony, Donald knelt facing due south alongside the Feymont royal family, receiving the ritual of Divine Grace's descent.

The God Priest's body slowly began to glow with light. Unlike the dazzling gold of Battle Qi, this light was pure and holy white. The Holy Light gradually grew brighter, completely enveloping the God Priest, then continued to spread forward until it reached Donald, who sat farthest away.

Donald felt himself enter a strange state, as if returning to a warm womb, or as if immersed in an ocean of light. Every limb and bone was comfortable to the extreme.

The entire process of Divine Grace's descent lasted about ten minutes. After it ended, the God Priest went to rest. As usual, he would leave tonight and not attend tomorrow's grand event.

Lucia secretly glanced at Donald, her cheeks flushed red. Whether it was from the effects of Divine Grace or because of the crazy things she had said earlier was unclear.

To avoid awkwardness, Donald pretended not to notice. Seeing that he had no reaction, Lucia pouted and walked away in a huff.

Carefully examining his own condition, Donald found no significant changes. For a moment, he couldn't tell what effect Divine Grace had actually had on him.

By the time he returned to the inn, it was already afternoon. Donald didn't mention receiving Divine Grace to Wesley, afraid of stirring up memories of his late mother.

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

Located in the Upper City on the banks of the Bol River, the Imperial Arena was the most magnificent building in Koennas City, second only to Faimon Palace. Viewed from above, the circular arena looked like a silver buckle pinned to a blue silk ribbon. The arena could hold a full one hundred thousand spectators, and from the highest seats, one could take in the entire beauty of the ancient city at a glance.

When the king and his honored guests appeared in the most prestigious viewing stands, the crowd erupted in deafening cheers. Donald noticed that, as expected, the God Priest had already left, and Cynthia Vida and the Dwarf were also absent.

Fewer than a hundred young people, qualified through regional selections to compete in the grand event, were now seated in the Contestant Area not far from the VIP stands, each led by their teachers.

"Dean Devis, why are you leading the team this year? It's been a long time since we've seen students from Tris Magic Academy at the grand event. I thought your institute had already disbanded."

A professor from some unknown provincial magic academy, sporting a neatly trimmed beard, said mockingly. Hearing this, the people around him burst into laughter.

"I heard that because of Eli Siril's rebellion, the Martial Magic Tournament in Tris Province was even cancelled. How were these top three chosen? Don't tell me it's to save face for the Emperor's alma mater that your institute was allowed to send two representatives this time?"

News of the rebellion in Tris Province had spread, but few knew the specifics of how it had been quelled. Among the representatives from the province, only Roger wore armor. Anyone could tell that Donald and Wesley came from a magic academy.

Facing the various sharp taunts from his colleagues, Dean Devis sat motionless, turning a deaf ear.

Roger showed a look of disgust. Although he was a student of Tris Knight Academy and the mockery seemingly had nothing to do with him, he still couldn't stand the faces of those people.

Donald saw Wesley shift slightly in his seat and knew he was about to say something shocking.

And so he did.

"Don't you know yet? Tris Magic Academy disbanded long ago. Even the academy grounds have all been turned into farmland... Because those northerners are too lazy and stupid, they all rely on Tris Province's grain to survive. But even so, the empire still refuses to cut our Magic Crystal Quota. It's truly troubling..."

Tris Province was the empire's southernmost province and its largest grain producer. In recent years, the Feymont Empire had been cutting Magic Crystal Quotas for all magic academies, except for Tris Magic Academy.

Every word Wesley spoke struck the sore spots of those who had mocked them. But those people, mindful of their status, couldn't very well argue with a student. And among the other teams, no student was as bold as Wesley to speak out of turn in such a setting.

So, with a few cold snorts, the group finally fell silent.

A girl dressed as a Magic Apprentice, sitting in the front rows, turned and glared angrily at Wesley. He winked at her, and the girl, startled, quickly turned back around.

Donald and Roger couldn't help but laugh out loud. Wesley looked smug.

When the list was submitted, Donald was designated as the top finisher of the Tris Province Martial Magic Tournament, allowing him to advance directly to the second round of the grand event. Wesley and Roger had to start from the first round.

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

From the start of the match, Roger held the upper hand. His opponent, forced into a corner, used a risky move to drive Roger back, then launched a full-force attack.

The pace of the duel suddenly quickened. Figures crossed, sword shadows flew, and then, just as the audience rose to their feet, everything came to an instant halt.

Amidst the roar of the crowd, Roger stood calm and composed—his sword was pressed against his opponent's neck.

Wesley's opponent was a Magic Apprentice. His teacher was the very same bearded professor who had first mocked Dean Devis.

"Waste! Let's see how long you can keep running your mouth," the Magic Apprentice muttered softly as he walked past Wesley, clearly still holding a grudge over his earlier words.

"What? You're actually offering me money to throw the match? What do you take me for?" Wesley suddenly exclaimed loudly.

"I didn't! He's slandering me..." The opponent broke out in a cold sweat. He never expected Wesley to say such a thing.

The referee on the field looked suspicious. He had indeed seen the two contestants get close and the opponent's mouth move, but he hadn't heard what was said.

"What do you think the Martial Magic Tournament is?! Referee, I refuse to compete with someone like this! It's too despicable!" Wesley said, his face full of righteous indignation.

By now, the audience was already booing loudly.

Sitting in the stands, Donald certainly couldn't hear what the opponent had said, but knowing Wesley, he was sure the guy had been set up.

Seeing Wesley's righteous expression, Donald thought that even if he couldn't be a poet, he would more than make a good actor.

"I've endured so many hardships to get here, and you... you want to use filthy money to defile this sacred arena! Someone like you..." Wesley grew more impassioned, completely rousing the audience's emotions.

In the stands, only the people from Tris Province knew that Wesley hadn't even registered for the Martial Magic Tournament. He had only gotten this qualification thanks to that strange shout that had distracted Eli. How he could claim to have endured so many hardships was anyone's guess.

On the VIP stand where King Auston was seated, Lucia struggled to suppress her laughter, afraid of catching her father's attention.

The referee walked to the edge of the field, conferred briefly with a few officials, then returned to the stage and announced the disqualification of the Magic Apprentice.

The man, feeling deeply wronged, wept and wailed, cursing and swearing at Wesley without pause.

Wesley, still wearing an air of lofty righteousness, leisurely walked off the field and returned to the Tris Province team.

Donald and Roger both struggled to hold back their laughter. Wesley secretly kicked Donald's foot, his expression unchanged.

"Devis, you've taught your students well," the bearded professor who had mocked them earlier said bitterly. Knowing his own student, he was certain something was fishy. But seeing the crowd's excitement, he could only bide his time, hoping for a chance to vent his anger later.

No matter how they managed it, both contestants from Tris Province had broken through. In the second round, Donald represented the province first, his opponent a squire.

To ensure he could protect himself in critical moments, Donald did not set aside the magic staff he always carried with him.

Before the match began, his opponent raised an objection to the staff in his hand, as the Martial Magic Tournament did not permit the use of any magical implements.

The referee team carefully inspected the magic staff but found no traces of an inscribed magic array on it, nor did they sense any magical fluctuations. They thus determined it was merely an ordinary metal rod. Since one side was allowed to use blades, Donald was naturally permitted to use this metal rod.

After this minor interruption, the match commenced.

Having dueled Aldrich, Donald already knew that basic wind and wood attack magic had almost no effect on a squire fully protected by armor. So he immediately unleashed the Sixfold Stone Spike Spell.

To avoid drawing unnecessary attention in such a grand setting, Donald slightly parted his lips while casting, pretending to chant an incantation, though in truth he made no sound at all.

This opponent was even weaker than Aldrich. After enduring a round of stone spikes, he could barely move and could no longer hold his sword steady.

Seeing this, Donald stopped casting magic altogether. He stepped forward and used his magic staff to knock the sword out of his opponent's hand. During this process, he naturally kept the Thirty-Eight Yuan Fire Magic, Blazing Meteor, which he had practiced for over half a month, prepared in his Sea of Consciousness to guard against any accidents.

When Donald raised his magic staff again, making as if to strike his opponent, the referee finally intervened and declared him the victor.

The audience had already erupted when Donald unleashed his stone spike spell, as dense as a meteor shower. Seeing this magic apprentice use an iron rod to knock the sword from a squire's hand, their laughter drowned out the cheers.

Meanwhile, the professors and team leaders from various magic academies, upon witnessing the power of Donald's stone spike spell, furrowed their brows in secret alarm—logically speaking, such small stone spikes, no matter how dense, should not have been able to beat a high-level squire into helplessness.

In the VIP viewing stand, Magician Clark sneered coldly and said, "King Auston, is this little hero relying on that iron rod to repeatedly rescue Princess Lucia?"

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 yesterday, but it clearly bore no trace of magical element fluctuations. How could it be a magic staff? In his view, Lucia's words were merely childish sophistry.

But Prince Geoffrey, sitting beside Clark, grew even darker in expression.

After several matches, Wesley took the stage again. This time, his opponent was also a squire.

Before the referee announced the start, his opponent deliberately kept his distance from Wesley, not daring to let him get close, likely fearing a repeat of his previous trick.

As soon as the match began, Wesley struck first with a wind blade.

The size and momentum of this wind blade clearly surpassed Donald's Sixfold Wind Blade, and its power was significantly greater.

Wind magic was the fastest among all five elements. The squire opposite him, seeing no way to dodge, could only brace himself. With a sharp crack, his abdomen felt as if struck by a punch. Looking down, the armor there was dented in a large area, with even a small tear torn open in the middle.

"Intermediate Magic Apprentice!" someone in the contestant area shouted.

The wind blade Wesley had just unleashed was a Twenty-Eight Yuan Wind Blade, something only an intermediate magic apprentice could master. He appeared to be only sixteen or seventeen (actually seventeen, the same age as Donald), yet he had already reached the admission standard of the Imperial Capital Magic Academy. No wonder it drew such exclamations.

In truth, after two and a half months of practicing the new meditation method, Wesley's wind divine element had nearly reached six hundred. In just over ten days, he would advance to high-level magic apprentice.

The squire, previously deceived by Wesley's exaggerated performance into thinking he only relied on tricks, was now thoroughly intimidated by the powerful wind blade and finally took him with utmost seriousness.

Following the same strategy as any squire facing a magic apprentice, he immediately charged at Wesley.

Wesley paused briefly, then extended both hands. This time, however, no wind blade flew out. Just as the audience thought his spell had failed, the squire sprinting toward him suddenly tripped and fell, tumbling head over heels until his helmet came off.

On the ground where he had passed, a thick patch of brambles had grown, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Wood magic Thorn Spell! He's a dual-element magic apprentice!"

The Thorn Spell was also something only intermediate magic apprentices could master, typically used in the wild to slow or trap beasts. No one expected Wesley to employ it here.

He first unleashed a wind blade, making his opponent believe he was a wind magic apprentice. When the squire rushed to close the distance, he struck again. The opponent, expecting another wind blade, was instead caught off guard by the Thorn Spell and tripped.

It was the subtle interplay of three factors—psychological insight, spell selection, and casting speed—that produced this dramatic outcome.

The squire's helmet had fallen off. Before he could stand, the sound of wind reached his ears. Two smaller wind blades struck the sand near his head, one after another. He covered his head with both hands, daring not to move, fearing the next wind blade would hit him directly.

The referee immediately declared Wesley the victor. The audience, rarely seeing such clever combat, burst into thunderous cheers.

In the contestant area, the bearded professor's face was icy. He clearly hadn't expected the two students sent by Tris Magic Academy to be so capable. But he still had a trump card. As long as he secured the top spot in the tournament, he could still silence Devis.

Roger finally faced a magic apprentice this time. The low-level magic apprentice's spells posed little threat to him. Once Roger closed in, his opponent immediately conceded.

Thus, all three contestants from Tris Province advanced to the third round. This was the province's best result in the past decade.

After the second round, the first day of the tournament concluded. Thirty-two contestants remained, with five rounds of matches totaling thirty-one bouts, all to be held tomorrow, the final day of the event.

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

(This book has officially been renamed: Magic High Student. The name change is primarily for commercial considerations, but in my heart, this book will always be known by its previous name.)