Inside the first-floor training ground of the Mage Association, the glow of magic rose and fell in succession.
"What is this? Are they performing some kind of folk dance?"
Kevin stood by the railing on the second floor, his staff propped against his shoulder. He looked down at the young mages below—some meditating, others sparring—with a look of utter disdain curling his lip.
"That soft, weak casting... are they trying to tickle the air? If they ever set foot on a battlefield, they wouldn't even finish their first syllable before the enemy twisted their heads off to kick around like balls!"
"What did you say..." a passing local mage started to snap back.
"Oh my, isn't this the famous Sixth Young Master of the Felton family, Lord Kevin? You arrived much sooner than expected!"
A hearty, resonant voice interrupted the imminent conflict.
An elderly man dressed in a gold-trimmed white robe and holding a mithril staff walked over, his face beaming like a spring breeze.
He wore no badge on his chest, but the way the elemental fluctuations in the air naturally bowed to him silently proclaimed his identity—the Branch President of the Worcester City Mage Association, a 【Palace】 rank mage, Brandon.
This master, highly respected in the local area, showed no trace of a powerhouse's arrogance. His wrinkled face was piled with a smile that spoke of deep worldly wisdom; clearly, he had received word from the imperial capital long ago.
"Hmph! Master Brandon! It’s been a while!"
Arrogant as he was, Kevin reigned himself in slightly before a genuine 【Palace】 powerhouse, offering a somewhat respectful junior's salute.
"Kevin, though this is but the border of a small nation, it shouldn't be underestimated,"
Brandon said, smiling as he patted Kevin’s shoulder, which was broader and sturdier than an ox's. He spoke with earnest gravity, "Even in remote places, hidden dragons and crouching tigers reside. A true master must always keep the heart of an apprentice and remain humble..."
"Save it, Master Brandon."
Kevin unceremoniously cut off the old president's platitudes, looking thoroughly bored. "If I stay here for half a year, I'm afraid my skills will rot. Did you see those people down there? I could beat them all with one hand tied behind my back."
"BOOM—! ZZZT—!"
Just then, a dull yet powerful burst of magical energy erupted from the independent assessment room next door.
It was the sound of a magical collision at least at the 【Crowned】 rank or perhaps even higher. Though dampened by an isolation barrier, the tremors in the floor were still clearly felt.
"Did you hear that?"
Kevin’s boredom vanished instantly. Like a hound catching the scent of blood, he ignored Brandon’s unfinished pleasantries and tilted his head to listen intently.
"Hmm..." Master Brandon didn't take offense. He also closed his eyes slightly to sense the vibrations, nodding in evaluation. "The magic channeling technique is quite good. Very solid."
"But the one playing the fast break has the advantage. From the sound of it, the suppression is very strong," Kevin noted, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah—and there's speed, too. The frequency is high," Brandon agreed.
"No, the one on the offensive is playing too stiffly. The rhythm is off. He's not as good as the one fighting steadily," Kevin shook his head, his expression becoming intrigued.
"Oh? The steady one seems to be having a hard time parrying. It sounds like he can only barely defend, whereas the fast-break one... feels light and powerful." Being older, Brandon habitually favored the side showing fierce momentum.
"Something's not right..."
Kevin narrowed his eyes, a sharp glint flashing in his seemingly crude but actually perceptive gaze. "The fast break is quick, but it's full of openings. That steady one... he's letting him win on purpose."
"Oh? Why do you think so?" Brandon was surprised and re-evaluated the sounds from the next room.
"How should I know? Maybe it’s some Akhtar Duchy custom about respecting your elders? After all, the one on the offensive sounds like an old man."
Kevin let out a scoff. Unable to contain his curiosity and the stirred fighting spirit any longer, he strode toward the adjacent room. "Enough talk, I’m going in to see for myself. It’s too noisy out here to hear clearly."
"President..."
The attendants following Brandon looked worried. They had heard of Kevin Felton’s 'infamy' and were terrified he might tear the association apart.
"It’s fine."
Master Brandon waved them off, a glint of old-fox cunning in his eyes. "This is a good opportunity. Let those arrogant youngsters in the association see for themselves that there is always someone better out there."
"Achieving something in a remote place like Akhtar isn't everything. They shouldn't be too proud."
...
"BANG!"
The door to the assessment room was brutally kicked open by a large foot wearing a white sock and a luxury leather boot.
The two people engaged in the magical spar—the association's senior examiner in charge of the test and Leon, who was 'struggling' to parry—were both startled by the sudden intrusion.
"Stop fighting."
Kevin strode into the center of the field, his muscular physique radiating a suffocating sense of pressure.
He adopted a condescending, lecturing posture. Even though he was clearly younger than both people on the field, he spoke like a strict master frustrated by a failing student: "If you keep fighting like this, it'll become a bad habit, pretty boy."
His gaze bypassed the sweat-drenched examiner and locked directly onto Leon, who stood opposite, looking unscathed and not even winded.
"P-President!"
The examiner—who had actually been led around like a dog by Leon for the past half hour—saw Brandon enter behind the intruder. He immediately stopped in a panic to salute, then looked at the arrogant brute in confusion. "Who are you...?"
"Giving it your all—that is what it means to respect your opponent."
Kevin didn't even look at the examiner. He walked straight toward Leon, unbuttoning his mage robe as he went to reveal muscles as tight as armor underneath.
"This is the Felton family's..." Brandon started to introduce Kevin, trying to give the examiner a way out.
"No need for introductions, President."
Kevin cracked his neck, his eyes fixed on the black-haired youth who was 'hiding his light under a bushel.' A fanatical smile spread across his face. "The tall guy knows who I am, don't you?"
"President..."
The examiner stood frozen in place, his staff raised halfway, unsure whether to put it down or keep it up. After all, someone the President personally accompanied must be a big shot, but this blatant disregard for the assessment rules made things very difficult for him.
"I'll take over."
Before the examiner could even get a confirming nod from the President, he was shoved aside by Kevin like a common roadblock.
"Wha—" The examiner stumbled several steps, his face full of horror.
Is this guy really a mage? This strength is greater than a warrior's!
Meanwhile.
Standing in the center of the field, Leon was staring blankly at this arrogant muscle-man who had suddenly appeared and started stripping while warming up, and at President Brandon standing by the door with the expression of someone watching a play.
Only one thought echoed in Leon's mind: Crap!
Director, this isn't how the script was supposed to go! This guy doesn't play by the rules at all!
Rate on N.U.
