Ranked Tournament

As for the question of whether Doctor was a new student, there was no way to keep it secret for long. And it was certain that Doctor was a noble. They could rule out the children of the Ten Great Noble Houses first; the rest would be easy to track down. Once they found him, there would be plenty of ways to get some points out of him.

Who didn't have a "weakness"...

It wasn't like they were going to take everything.

There were tens of thousands of students at the academy. How many points could Doctor possibly have? And ever since the article had been made public, word had spread that the academy had "bought" the information. More and more people were looking for Doctor.

How many points must the academy have paid to buy it? Even the teachers were probably envious.

They'd thought it would be easy, but five or six days later, they still hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of Doctor. Then some instructors joined the search, but they couldn't find him either. It was as if he'd vanished into thin air after appearing in the Wizard Tower that one day.

There was no chance he'd left the academy. New students weren't allowed to leave during their first year, not even to stay across the street from the academy gates.

The search finally died down a month later. It was a miserable time for the new students. For a whole month, they were watched every day. Even when they went to the bathroom, upperclassmen would wait outside. They'd originally admired Doctor, a fellow student, but now they were cursing him in their hearts.

As for the missing Borne, he really hadn't left the Wizard Tower. More precisely, he was still in the stone chamber where he'd been reading the scroll.

After discovering that he could stay there indefinitely as long as he didn't leave on his own, Borne decided to hole up for ten days or half a month. Later, when he realized that meditating there was more effective than outside, he decided to make the place his temporary home.

He'd gone out of his way to ask the count for a huge-capacity bag. Borne was a little "paranoid," so he'd stuffed it full of all kinds of supplies. He had enough food alone to last half a year.

The place was comfortable, no one bothered him, and magical energy was abundant. With a huge stash of points, whenever he wanted some reference material or a spell, all he had to do was ask the "Tower Spirit" to deliver it. To Borne, it was practically a "sanctuary."

Recently, he'd discovered another use for points. They couldn't be exchanged for rations, but he could get fruit with them. One point bought one piece of fruit, picked from the Arcane Garden. Unfortunately, the dimwitted Tower Spirit had no concept of varieties, so every delivery was a different size and type. Sometimes the fruit wasn't even ripe...

After exchanging points for a few magical formulas, Borne understood that there was no need to rush into learning new magic. There was no end to it. Magical formulas came in all shapes and forms, and sometimes a single spell had several different formulas.

It was like solving a math problem: there could be several ways to get the answer. Of course, that only applied to low-level spells. Mid-level spells were manageable, but high-level spells generally had only one formula. Besides, there was only one high-level spell available: the seventh-circle Teleport.

Magic wasn't something you could cast by simply waving a wand and reciting a few lines. A formula that suited you might not suit me. Even the same song sounded different when sung by different people, let alone a spell. If your mental power and magical energy were even slightly off, you might fail to cast it—or blow yourself up on the spot. That was why spell experiments mattered so much.

That was the source of a funny saying: spellcasters spent more than half their lives in the laboratory, and only then came the bed.

Submissions could generally be divided into three categories: magical formulas, magical theory, and translated materials.

Borne's constructive submission was a special case.

Under normal circumstances, magical formulas earned the most points, and the later royalties were generous too. After all, it was easiest to use someone else's work directly. The most people borrowed formulas. If a spell was already available, they'd learn that one. Not everyone could derive an Arcane spell of their own, and every new Arcane spell was a new solution to the same magical problem.

Borne "sold" his first Arcane spell, [Light Orb], for 73 points.

There was no need for review when selling a spell. He could do it directly through the Tower Spirit, which would assess its value. A cantrip like [Light Orb], with so many existing versions, wouldn't fetch a high price.

Borne checked and found that [Light Orb] had more than twenty different casting formulas.

As his first spell, [Light Orb] meant something special to him. He spent 10 points to exchange for two formulas to study. After all, other people's ideas could inspire your own. He didn't think his formula was necessarily more "perfect" than theirs.

Sure enough, the two formulas gave Borne a lot to think about. He spread out some draft paper and spent two hours revising his own formula. The "world's daddy" didn't reward him, but when he simulated casting it again, he could clearly feel that its overall efficiency had improved by at least thirty percent.

The spell took less magic and cast faster!

Looking at the draft on the table, Borne tried contacting the Tower Spirit. To his surprise, after scanning it, the Tower Spirit offered him 70 points for the newly revised formula.

Borne's eyes lit up. He tried optimizing [Light Orb] again and discovered that as long as he changed more than twenty percent of the formula, the Tower Spirit would classify it as a new spell.

Borne grinned and waved his hand, exchanging for all twenty of the remaining formulas. Then he began furiously copying them...

Ahem... This was called optimization. Streamlining!

Whether or not the Tower Spirit believed him, Borne certainly believed it. He was contributing to the academy, too. Points didn't matter; he was expanding the spell collection and helping his fellow students learn magic faster...

Uh...

All right, even he couldn't keep making excuses.

By simplifying each formula, Borne had earned another 1,100 points in less than three days. And that was only the initial income. He'd also get another cut whenever other students exchanged for them later.

That was what sustainable development looked like.

Borne seemed to have found the secret to making money, so he threw himself into optimizing more formulas.

Optimization didn't necessarily mean simplifying. Adding a few things could work, too. Whether those extra parts were useful didn't matter, as long as they didn't interfere with the spell.

That earned Borne another 600 points. After that, he cobbled together another two hundred or so. In the end, he finally gave up because "optimization" was taking too much time.

Seeing his points climb past two thousand, Borne felt much better.

That wasn't all. His understanding of [Light Orb] had reached a new level. It didn't have to be a sphere anymore; it could take all kinds of shapes, including animals, birds, fish, and insects.

Don't think this was just flashy and useless. It meant Borne had reached a much deeper understanding of the spell. Now, he could cast [Light Orb] with a single thought, using almost no Spell Slots or magical energy. It was practically instinctive!

That was terrifying. [Light Orb] was a zero-circle cantrip, only at the apprentice level. What if he tried it with another, more offensive spell...

After careful consideration, Borne decided to milk a few more points from the zero-circle spell [Mage Hand].

The main reason was definitely that [Mage Hand] had plenty of formulas to reference. It absolutely wasn't because zero-circle cantrips were safe and unlikely to backfire. Borne would never admit that!!!

As one of the signature spells of spellcasters, [Mage Hand] could move objects weighing no more than five pounds.

While Borne was absorbed in studying [Mage Hand], someone finally reported his loophole for sneaking into the Wizard Tower. In fact, it was a whole group of people.

The room was meant for academy students to view Nether Scrolls. As long as someone was inside, no one else could enter. It was understandable if people couldn't get in once or twice, but it had been more than two months. That was suspicious.

At first, the academy hadn't paid much attention. They asked the Tower Spirit and were told that someone was using the room, so they left it at that. But as more and more teachers complained, the academy's higher-ups finally took notice.

In the end, they had no choice but to report it to the dean. After all, the dean controlled the Wizard Tower's administrative permissions.

The dean quickly understood what had happened after checking the Tower Spirit's backend records. He even discovered that Borne had been using the same magical formula to farm points.

"Heh, that kid..."

The dean laughed.

But he didn't throw Borne out. Instead, he had the Tower Spirit set up another secret chamber.

Seven days later, Borne was controlling [Mage Hand] as it changed shape when the world's consciousness descended again. Since this was a zero-circle spell, the moment of insight didn't last as long as it had when he advanced. He was kicked out again before long.

Before Borne could complain, the scene before him changed once more. He landed outside the Wizard Tower.

"Huh? Ahhh..."

He landed on his butt, with draft papers and household trash scattered all around him.

Borne rubbed his backside and stood up. Anyone who still didn't understand what had happened at this point had something wrong with their head.

Ignoring the curious looks from the onlookers, Borne quickly gathered up the drafts. He'd just lifted a foot to leave when a chill ran down his back...

He put his foot back down.

To the astonishment of the passersby, Borne snapped his fingers. Seven or eight pale blue Mage Hands appeared and began cleaning up the trash.

The onlookers, who'd been enjoying the show, were stunned.

They'd never seen anyone use [Mage Hand] for something like this.

If you ignored the fact that he was picking up trash, Borne controlled [Mage Hand] with more dexterity than even an instructor.

Quite a few people nearby knew what they were looking at. They immediately realized that Borne was casting an Arcane spell.

"He can control that many [Mage Hands] at once?!"

"That kind of precision... Is he an instructor?"

"Hey, are you stupid? An instructor wouldn't get 'thrown out' by the Tower Spirit... I mean, 'sent out.' He must be an upperclassman!"

"So he's a student too? Sigh, I wonder if I'll become an Arcanist before I graduate..."

After cleaning up the "crime scene," Borne immediately made a getaway, not giving the people around him a chance to come over and make small talk.

Word soon spread around the academy about Borne using multiple simultaneous strands of control to cast [Mage Hand] in front of the Wizard Tower.

After all, everyone loved gossip. Every once in a while, someone got thrown out of the Wizard Tower for farming too many points. Most of them were commoners, and they became a favorite topic of conversation among nobles over meals.

But this time, it was an Arcanist who seemed to be an upperclassman, which made things interesting. The story became a hot topic at once.

Why did people say "seemed to be"?

Although Borne had been holed up for more than two months, looking scruffy and hard to recognize, every Arcanist at the academy—especially those who hadn't graduated yet—was well known. Even if people couldn't make out his face, they could identify him in other ways.

But this person wasn't among the ones everyone watched. It was as if he'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

The semester was almost over, and the ranking tournament was about to begin. Where had this Arcanist come from? Almost no one knew him. It was like seeing a ghost.

Even someone who kept a low profile would leave traces after living somewhere for a few years, especially at Giles Academy. How could tens of thousands of people not know he existed?

Not only did no one recognize him, they weren't even sure whether he existed. It was as if this Arcanist had appeared out of thin air.

The Tower Spirit couldn't be wrong. Only students would be thrown out, which meant this person had to be a Giles student. If an outsider had infiltrated the tower and been thrown out, it wouldn't have been a person!

Before long, people began to suspect Borne. After all, in the past few decades, the only person besides Borne Ioulaum to become an Arcanist before enrolling was...

It was all just wild speculation, but everyone got more and more excited. The rumors about this person grew increasingly absurd...

The academy ranking tournament finally arrived.

"Ranking tournament?"

"All students? The title of First Seat?"

"What a hassle... The First Seat only gets five hundred points... Hmm, that's worth going for. But holding the ranking tournament at this time..."

"Huh? Isn't this just a final exam...?"

Borne grumbled as he read the tournament rules posted on the notice board.

Being "cautious" by nature, he didn't like this way of drawing attention to himself.

If he fought, he'd definitely come first among the new students. If he held back, would his grandfather beat him to death...

But when he saw the note at the bottom saying that the First Seat could exchange for permission to read the Nether Scrolls, his eyes lit up. He immediately ignored the points mentioned above.

Nothing interested Borne more than the Nether Scrolls right now.

First, he'd set a small goal: win the First Seat!

The day of the ranking tournament arrived soon. Apart from the start of term, it was the liveliest day at the academy. The academy also invited high-ranking officials from across Nether to attend.

It was a tradition!

When the academy was first built, it had nearly drained all of Nether's resources. The Tower Spirit in the Wizard Tower might have seemed dimwitted, but back then, the dean had visited every noble in Nether before he could scrape together enough resources to build the tower.

It was said that the dean still had some debts to pay off.

Before the academy existed, Nether's supernatural system had mainly relied on a master-and-disciple model. Back then, spellcasters were still called wizards, and the system was a chaotic mess. The higher-ups had a monopoly on supernatural power, while ordinary people were also subjected to Orc raids. The people at the bottom had almost no hope.

If not for Lord Concinnio's advancement to Legend, and his use of overwhelming force to "persuade" Nether's higher-ups to establish an academy that sent hundreds of spellcasters to the military every year, Nether would have fallen to the Orcs long ago.

The dean had proved his foresight through his actions. Using the knowledge in the Nether Scrolls, he quickly established a magical system of Nether's own, bringing about the prosperity Nether enjoyed today. It could be said that Lord Concinnio was the founder of Arcane civilization!

Actual combat was the only way to test what they'd learned. The dean's great reputation in Nether had been earned through his strength.

Besides improving their combat experience, the most important purpose of the ranking tournament was to show off!

That was right: to show off. Every student graduating from the academy had to serve in the military for three years. That term of service had only been shortened over the past twenty years or so because there'd been less fighting. Before that, it had lasted five years or even longer. The military brass would also be watching the tournament.

They were picking out talent in advance...

Everyone knew the drill.

If you were lucky enough to catch someone's eye, at least those three years would go well. You might even go far.

After all, claiming you were good didn't prove anything. You had to fight to show whether you were all talk. On the battlefield, it wasn't at all uncommon for someone of a lower rank to take down someone of a higher rank.

Since space was limited and the academy had so many students, the ranking tournament started with the upper grades and worked its way down.

"I heard the service rules are changing this year. There'll be more places to choose from..."

"I heard representatives from Habridge City and Zenith City are coming too..."

"There are a lot more people here to watch this year. There weren't this many last year. Something must be changing..."

The people around him chattered and gossiped, leaving Borne at a loss. Weren't spellcasters supposed to be aloof and rational?

Never mind. He'd just watch the matches and see how good the upperclassmen were...

Borne watched with anticipation, but after two days, he realized he hadn't seen anything worth seeing.

Aside from a few people, most of them were putting on a "real" fight.

Yes, a "real" fight. The kind where they drew their weapons and went straight at each other.

If they hadn't occasionally cast a spell or two, you might have thought they were warriors.

Borne hadn't realized so many people practiced both martial arts and magic. And the farther the tournament went, the stranger things got. Eventually, they stopped fighting altogether. Some even just went through the motions, surrendering as soon as they stepped onto the arena. Then they walked off laughing and chatting. Did they have no shame?

The better matches saw them cast a couple of spells at each other before deciding the winner. It looked like a fixed fight—and not even a well-disguised one.

Where were the dazzling magical duels he'd expected?

Where were the secret techniques and explosive power-ups?

Why was this so different from Japanese anime?!

The reviews for this novel were going to suffer!

Borne frowned. The audience around him didn't seem surprised. They looked used to it.

"So that's how it is... Sigh..."

Borne thought it over for a moment, then accepted it.

It made sense. There was no such thing as a fierce fight like the ones in anime or novels. They'd only been studying magic for a few years, and the oldest were just seventeen or eighteen. At most, they'd been practicing magic for a few years. Even someone like Borne, who'd studied magic since childhood, had only spent fifteen years at most learning it. And people with that advantage were extremely rare, all of them prized by their families.

Most people had only begun learning magic during their five years at the academy. How much magic could they learn in five years? There was a whole process between acquiring a spell and mastering it. Spells needed to be tested in experiments, and experiments required materials. If you didn't have the materials, you had to find or buy them. Even if you managed to get everything you needed and learned the spell, did that mean you really knew how to cast it?

To cast a spell, you had to recite the incantation, make the gestures, and construct the formula. In a battle, the enemy wouldn't just stand there and wait for you to finish preparing. Mobile Spellcasting and Quicken Spell weren't within everyone's reach. They required an exceptionally deep understanding of magic.

Otherwise, one mistake could cause the spell to backfire. You wouldn't even need to hit your opponent; you'd already be flat on your back.

Five years was too little time. Most students hadn't even mastered high-level spells, let alone spellcasting techniques.

Rolling up their sleeves and throwing punches was the norm. Even managing to cast one spell during a "fight" counted as pretty good. The matches that started first were fought by the lower-ranked students, commonly known as the bottom of the class.

They weren't fixing the matches. It was just that they seemed to understand their own abilities—or knew their opponents well.

The matches among the upperclassmen started from the bottom of the rankings. For example, the student ranked 742nd would face the one ranked 741st. If the 742nd-ranked student won, they'd take the 741st's place and could then challenge someone in the top ten places ahead of them, from 730th to 740th. If they won, they'd take the challenged student's place and could keep moving up.

The reason Borne thought the matches were almost fixed was that the closer the rankings got to the top, the stronger the students clearly became. This didn't mean stronger magic.

Magic didn't work like a sudden power-up. It didn't matter how much magical energy you had if you couldn't put it to use. Someone with plenty of magical energy but poor spellcasting could easily lose to someone with little magical energy who had mastered their spells.

That was also why the matches got more lackluster as they went on. Students with similar rankings in the same year knew each other well. To put it bluntly, they knew exactly what they were capable of. If they could get ahead, they'd have done it already. Even if they wanted to move up, they'd need to be confident they could climb at least ten places. Otherwise, what was the point? Other than the top ten, every ten places earned a reward.

Fortunately, the final match for the top ten didn't disappoint Borne. The representatives in the viewing stands finally seemed interested enough to watch "seriously."

The top ten students in the fifth year were indeed worthy of being called the academy's top ten. That made sense, but Borne still felt something was missing.

Six of the ten were Arcanists who could use spells in battle. But the winners still prevailed through physical strength, not magic. The matches seemed more like swordsmanship contests, with magic as mere support.

Seeing these magical matches, Borne didn't know what to say. His whole worldview had shattered.

Then he realized this was what made sense. This was how things were in reality!

Those dazzling magical duels only existed in people's imaginations.

After that, Borne didn't have high hopes for the second-, third-, and fourth-year matches either. Rather than waste time watching "fixed matches," he might as well study another spell and earn some points.

Although he'd been kicked out of the Wizard Tower last time, the point-farming "bug" still worked. Better yet, Borne had discovered another "loophole": incomplete formulas could be submitted too. They just earned less than complete ones, not even half as much.

Even a tiny bit counted, right?

Borne started milking the system again. A new formula could be sold twice. It couldn't get much better than that.

With his experience from grinding [Light Orb], Borne was much more efficient this time. In less than a week, he'd earned another three thousand points. Borne had to admit, this was way better than some ranking competition.

Still, he was determined to claim the title of top student. According to the background information he remembered, the Nether Scrolls would gradually be lost for various reasons, so he had to read them all before they disappeared.

Before long, the first-year competition finally arrived. It was also the fiercest competition of the year, because the rankings would largely determine where you stood for the next four years.

This wasn't a joke. It was a pattern Giles Academy had observed over the past hundred years: the higher your rank, the more points you earned.

What were points? Resources. The means to grow stronger!

Those admitted to the academy were all quite talented (except for the others), but getting ahead by even one step could leave everyone else in the dust. This was no joke.

The top student received five hundred points. How many papers would you have to submit to earn that? How much time would it take? By the time you caught up, the others would have already used those points to obtain even more resources.

Of course, there were cases of latecomers overtaking the frontrunners. Every year, a dark horse made a comeback. But that didn't mean much; most people's positions were decided in their first year.

That was why the first-year competition was especially brutal. There had even been casualties, so the academy had specifically brought in Clerics.

The new students were ranked by their enrollment date. Borne had joined partway through the year, so he was placed last—and that made him the first new student to compete.

Those watching the competition included not only students from every year, but also the academy's senior staff and representatives from various factions.

By now, it was all but certain that the mysterious Arcanist known as "Doctor" was a new student—and one who had enrolled halfway through the year.

"Contestant 763, Borne Ioulaum, and contestant 762, Haul Vox, please come up to the stage..."

The moment the referee announced Borne Ioulaum's name, an uproar swept through the audience.

"It really is him, Count Ioulaum's grandson..."

"The youngest Arcanist in Nether..."

"Wasn't his arcane spell Light Orb? Could there be another Arcanist?"

"Has he really mastered two arcane spells at such a young age?"

Quite a few students and representatives turned their attention toward the stands, where the academy's senior staff were seated, including Dean Concinnio and several vice deans.

Feeling the gazes coming at him from every direction, Borne was a little uncomfortable. Looking was one thing, but this brazen "peeping" was going too far.

All kinds of divination spells and waves of mental energy swept over him.

"Damn... Are they ever going to stop?"

Borne wanted to curse. He secretly vowed that someday he'd develop a spell that could not only block detection, but also counter it.

For now, though, all Borne could do was complain under his breath. Wearing an annoyed expression, he walked onto the platform.

"Heh, that little guy's got some personality!"

"Hahaha..."

Borne's reaction drew laughter from the bigwigs.

While the higher-ups were amused, the senior students could only sigh, and the new students felt a little hopeless.

An Arcanist among the new students...

That was like having the top spot reserved in advance. How were they supposed to compete? It was like a king had wandered into a crowd of bronze-ranked players.

Could they even enjoy the competition anymore?

Naturally, there were also plenty of overconfident students. Who wouldn't want to fight for first place? They were all first-years, so why should anyone be better than anyone else?

Borne's first opponent, for instance, Haul Vox, looked completely confident.

Before enrolling, he'd already earned praise from his swordsmanship instructor. Among the instructor's students, his swordsmanship ranked near the top.

"It's just [Mage Hand], a useless spell that can only move something weighing five pounds. It won't make much difference!"

Haul kept working himself up.

The two of them arrived at the arena at the same time. The referee glanced at Borne's empty hands and kindly reminded him, "Student, you can choose a weapon for the match!"

"Thank you, sir. I don't need one."

Borne politely declined the referee's well-meaning suggestion.

The referee nodded and asked again, "Would you like a casting distance?"

This time, he was asking both of them.

"No need!"

Borne refused outright.

"I...I don't need one either..."

Haul was surprised at first, then grew angry. He felt slighted and silently resolved to teach Borne a lesson.

A casting distance allowed a mage to start ten meters away from their opponent during a duel, giving the caster enough time to chant a spell. Without one, the two contestants would start just three meters apart.

Haul quickly devised a plan. "Use my size advantage to charge in, close the distance, and strike!"

Borne's age was no secret. Even if he was an Arcanist, how strong could he be before his body had finished growing?

Seeing that Borne had declined, the referee didn't meddle. He called out loudly.

"Get ready..."

"Begin!"

The referee brought his hand down.

Haul bent his knees in a flash, pushed off the ground, and quickly gripped his sword hilt with his right hand.

Charge, draw, diagonal slash.

Even a strict swordsmanship master would have found it difficult to fault the move.

"I've won..."

Haul crossed the two-meter gap in the blink of an eye. Just as he thought he'd won, a sudden, searing pain struck his abdomen. His sword hand went numb, and the long sword fell from his grasp. Then pain shot through his head, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

The entire venue erupted.