Ritual Swords and Ritual Wizards

Amid the applause and praise, Locke beamed with pride, as if the victory had truly been the result of his careful planning.

Even Kathy, usually reserved and self-conscious, felt a rare flush of happiness when she saw the approving looks around her. Her small face, so often cast downward, lit up.

It was the long-missed pride of a victor.

She knew the glory wasn't hers, but the feeling was wonderful.

However, the pleasant atmosphere didn't last long.

The applause had barely faded when a crude, malicious voice came crashing down like a bucket of cold water.

"Now that the contest is over, let's settle the score from earlier!"

"You! On behalf of the Blazing Sun Wizard Tower, I formally challenge you to a duel!"

Everyone turned to look.

The burly apprentice who had spoken so rudely earlier stepped forward with a sneer. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on Tylen like a wild boar eyeing its prey.

Locke and Kathy's expressions changed at once.

They knew exactly what the other side was thinking: since they had lost on skill, they would use brute force to save face.

It was the oldest and most effective method.

Kathy glanced at Tylen, who remained calm beside her. Then, as if she had made up her mind, she gritted her teeth, summoned her courage, and stepped in front of him.

She struggled to steady her voice and shouted:

"So you resort to brute force because you couldn't win the contest?"

"Are people from the Blazing Sun Wizard Tower... really such sore losers and such boors?"

Joyce, standing opposite them, sneered and folded his arms.

"What does this have to do with who won the contest?"

"Didn't he agree to duel us himself? He even made a big show of saying things like, 'Do I have to pay if I kill someone?'"

"What's the matter? Scared now? Want to hide behind a woman like a coward?"

"Huh?"

Kathy, who wasn't good at socializing or arguing in the first place, froze at his words.

She blinked her wide eyes and looked back at Tylen in confusion. Then she shrank back again, unsure how to respond.

The burly apprentice continued taunting him loudly, spittle flying from his mouth.

"What's wrong, little runt?"

"Weren't you just acting all high and mighty? If you don't dare to duel, get on your knees, bow your head to me, and loudly admit that the apprentices of Cain Wizard Tower are a bunch of useless braggarts!"

Just then, someone in the crowd, eager to see a fight, started shouting:

"Fight! Get on with it!"

"Exactly! What's the big deal about carving bones? Wizards should settle things with a magical duel!"

"Come on! Show us what you can really do!"

With the crowd egging them on, the air instantly grew thick with tension.

Locke frowned. He sensed something was wrong.

The other side had clearly come prepared. They wanted to crush Tylen once and for all and humiliate Cain Tower in the process.

He moved in front of Tylen and addressed Virgil.

"Virgil, what's the point of having these low-level apprentices fight like stray dogs?"

"If we're going to see who's better, why don't you and I have a go?"

Virgil seemed to have anticipated Locke's move.

He spread his hands, wearing a phony smile.

"Sara, that's hardly fair."

"Everyone knows you have noble elven blood. How many people your age can match your Magic Control?"

"I heard you could cast second-level spells when you were thirteen. How could an ordinary person like me possibly be your match? I give up, all right?"

His words left no room for reproach.

He attributed their difference in strength to the uncontrollable factor of bloodline, then feigned weakness, making Locke look like a bully who was relying on his bloodline to pick on someone weaker.

And since his opponent had publicly "given up," Locke couldn't keep pressing without seeming unreasonable and lacking a noble's grace.

Just as Locke was left speechless, Tylen's calm voice rang out again:

"Does this really have to end with one of us dead?"

Tylen stepped out from behind Locke and looked at the burly apprentice earnestly.

"We all came here to learn. Can't we just get along and grow stronger together?"

The crowd burst into laughter.

The burly apprentice laughed even harder, then his expression turned nasty as he sneered:

"You want to get along? Fine!"

"From now on, whenever you see me, get down on your knees and call me 'sir,' and I'll get along with you!"

Tylen sighed, his tone seemingly helpless and resigned.

"All right. If you insist... I accept your challenge."

Kathy hurriedly grabbed Tylen's sleeve, her voice full of worry.

"Y-you be careful! He looks really strong!"

Locke also offered a quiet reminder:

"If things feel wrong, surrender at once. It's no big deal."

Tylen smiled at them both and nodded, reassuring them.

Then he stepped forward and walked to the center of the open space.

The apprentices and onlookers quickly moved back, forming a circular arena about twenty meters across.

The two stood facing each other, roughly six meters apart.

The burly apprentice sneered and casually pulled a silver-gray metal short sword from his clothes.

The sword was about thirty centimeters long. Complex, dark red patterns were engraved along its blade, and it gave off an unpleasant, bloody stench.

"A magical artifact? A Ritual Sword?!"

Kathy cried out in shock.

She wasn't surprised by the Ritual Sword itself, but by the fact that a low-level apprentice had one.

Locke's expression turned grim as well.

"It's only the lowest-quality, ordinary grade, but that still means he's a Ritual Wizard!"

As the name suggested, Ritual Wizards made ritual magic the core of their practice. Their school of wizardry strengthened them through all kinds of mysterious rites.

They could use ritual magic to worship and make offerings to the gods, gaining their blessings and growing stronger.

It was an extremely popular wizarding school these days.

That was because Ritual Wizards progressed extremely quickly in the early stages. Ritual spells that enhanced physical strength and Mental Power, in particular, often produced immediate results.

For apprentices who had yet to master powerful spells and had little mana, opponents with such formidable close-combat abilities were nothing short of a nightmare.

Tylen studied the Ritual Sword in his opponent's hand, his mind growing slightly heavy.

Information about wizard artifacts flashed through his mind. There were five kinds of wizard artifacts, each with its own basic effect.

Magic Wand: Increased control over mana while casting, thereby increasing casting speed.

Magic Staff: Increased resonance with Spell Models, thereby increasing the range of spells.

Ritual Sword: Served as a medium for swiftly performing rituals by inscribing runic arrays onto the blade.

Alchemy Hammer: Improved a wizard's affinity for various alchemical materials, increasing the efficiency and success rate of alchemical reactions.

Soul Dagger: Could cut and attack spiritual beings, serving as both a research tool and a weapon.

"Magical artifacts are never cheap. Even the cheapest ordinary-grade Ritual Sword costs more than 800 Purple Gold Coins."

"I didn't expect this low-level apprentice to have a Ritual Sword already."

While Tylen was still analyzing the situation, the burly apprentice made his move.

He gripped the Ritual Sword tightly, and its sharp edge immediately sliced into his palm.

Blood flowed along the patterns on the blade, instantly awakening some mysterious power.

Hum!

Faint, blood-red markings surfaced beneath the burly apprentice's skin like living creatures, spreading wildly across his muscles.

Level 1 Ritual Magic: Blood Boiling Technique.

Sacrifice one's own blood to borrow the power of the Blood Queen. Costs 2 Mental Power and strengthens the user's physical body for five minutes.