The first-year students didn't have any classes on their first day at the academy.
There was simply too much to do.
They started with orientation, where they were introduced to the academy rules and shown around the dormitories.
Some students drew lots to determine room assignments, and everyone got a chance to visit their respective dorms.
But that was just the beginning. After the lunch break, they were issued their equipment.
When students registered for the academy, they had to declare their preferred weapon type.
Based on that, the academy provided them with weapons, not out of generosity, but in the name of fairness.
Otherwise, nobles would have an obvious advantage over commoners.
The weapons were also blunted to reduce the risk of serious injury.
Still, those were only for class use. Even if one had a personal weapon, they had to use the one provided by the academy during classes.
In formal duels, though, students were free to use their personal weapons.
The academy was firm on this policy, even if some commoners thought it was unfair.
Their reasoning was simple: in a real fight, you don't get to choose what weapon your enemy brings.
After receiving their gear, the students still had other tasks to complete.
That was why the first day passed without a single class.
---
22 vanished before everyone's eyes, leaving the first-years completely stunned.
Even most of the second-years couldn't track him—and that was exactly why he ranked so high.
Colt watched with quiet excitement. It had been a long time since he'd seen Seila fight. And never like this—never when she was still this young.
He was curious. What kind of mistakes would she make? What spells did she favor at this age?
It was a rare chance to see her from a different angle, to witness the path that would shape her into the person he once knew.
Of course, he wouldn't step in unless it became truly dangerous.
Even injuries were acceptable, to a point.
He didn't want to shelter her. He just wanted to walk beside her—watch her grow into the version of herself he'd once met.
Seila began casting. A glowing circle started to form above her head.
But before the chant could finish, a slash opened her shoulder and broke her concentration.
She flinched, frowning. She hadn't expected 22 to rush in blindly, especially without knowing what kind of spell she was preparing.
If it had been an attack spell, she could've thrown it out at random and possibly hit him.
But 22's instincts had been sharp—he'd guessed correctly. It was a detection spell, meant to reveal his location.
However, when she started chanting, he was already approaching Seila from the side, so he could only attack her shoulder.
An untrained eye had no chance of following an invisible assassin. That's why detection spells were essential.
What Seila had tried to cast was a basic detection spell. A primitive version of what Colt constantly had running.
But even that simple version took her three full seconds to cast.
Colt made it look effortless, but the spell itself was complex. It scanned the area and returned vast amounts of information.
Even something as small as an ant crawling across the ground would register on his radar.
His high Intelligence stat helped him process it all without losing his mind—keeping that awareness active in a fifty-meter radius at all times.
Seila, on the other hand, could only manage a short burst. Just a few meters, and only for a few seconds.
She wouldn't detect ants or tiny movement, just the assassin—if she could finish the spell.
But now that her casting had been interrupted, even that window was gone.
Seila wanted to win this match. Cecilia, their class instructor, was her hero.
She always tried to follow her example.
So today, she wanted to show Cecilia what she was capable of—and she wouldn't let an assassin stop her.
The detection spell was the most reliable way to locate an invisible enemy, but it wasn't the only one.
Seila raised her staff and cast an instant spell. That meant it wasn't a high-level one, but it was fast.
She slammed the staff to the ground. Cracks spread outward, sending up a cloud of dust and scattering loose pebbles.
She wasn't finished.
With another short chant, a gust of wind surged out from her position, forming a small hurricane.
Dust and debris lifted into the air, swirling around her in rapid motion.
It was the most brute-force method of revealing an invisible opponent—but it worked.
She scanned the field. The dust filled nearly the entire arena, except for one spot.
That gap told her everything. The assassin was there.
Of course, he knew it too. He'd been caught by this kind of tactic more than once.
And it was one of the reasons he hated fighting mages—he didn't have a good counter at his level.
Now, he had no choice but to act quickly.
His strength was in speed. If Seila tried to cast a long-chant spell, he could interrupt it. And her instant spells wouldn't pack enough power to defeat him.
So he began circling her at high speed.
By moving in the same direction as the wind, he made it harder for her to detect his presence through the swirling dust and debris.
Step by step, he crept closer, still invisible.
But Seila wasn't finished.
She struck the ground again and cast a one-second spell.
The wind stopped instantly.
And just before everything dropped, she cast again—this time, reversing the wind's direction.
The storm turned, spinning the opposite way.
Caught off guard, 22 was pelted by pebbles and debris. He couldn't dodge in time.
It didn't hurt him seriously, but it rattled him. And it made him angry.
To him, this was nothing but a cheap shot.
He convinced himself Seila was just lashing out, knowing she'd lose, trying to land a hit to soothe her pride.
That thought pushed him over the edge.
First, she hadn't remembered him. Then, her father had rejected his marriage proposal.
Now this.
He decided he wouldn't just win.
He'd humiliate her.
He started running in the opposite direction.
Seila kept changing the direction of the wind again and again. But each time, the effect grew weaker.
If she tried to cast a longer spell, 22 would stop circling and charge straight at her.
And she couldn't afford to take a direct hit—whether from the front or the back, it would be over.
Still, she needed to keep hitting the ground before each cast, breaking it apart to scatter more dust and pebbles.
Some of the debris that struck 22 had already been blown out of the arena or settled uselessly on the floor.
Now, 22 had closed the distance. He was within striking range, but he didn't rush in just yet. He wanted to be sure. One clean hit—that was all he needed.
He waited for her next chant.
Seila raised her staff and struck the ground once more.
That was the cue.
22 leapt.
But instead of chanting, Seila turned her body.
Why?
The reason 22 was surprised wasn't because she anticipated his attack. It was because she didn't dodge the attack.
She didn't even try to block.
The hit landed cleanly, sending her flying across the arena.
She rolled once and came to a stop.
The blow had landed on her side since she turned before getting hit, so the damage wasn't too severe, but it was enough to put her on the ground.
Slowly, she pushed herself up.
22 watched with a smirk. He didn't know how she had guessed he would strike just then, but it didn't matter.
He'd hit her anyway.
And she was out of mana. That much was clear from how she moved.
So there was no way she could continue. She had to concede.
But then, Seila looked up.
Her gaze met Cecilia's.
Cecilia looked between the two of them.
Then she raised her voice.
"The winner is Seila!"