As the semifinal stage was set, the referee raised a hand, signaling that everything was ready. The arena, now nearing the festival’s climax, fell into a hushed silence as every spectator fixed their burning eyes on the match.
Who could have predicted that every single finalist would be a second-year?
It wasn’t that the third-years were weak—quite the opposite. These second-years were just freakishly strong. Even knowing this wasn’t a universal truth, they couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy toward those born in the “Year of Seiran (Fine Orchid).”
But the one drawing the most attention was Raze Granoli, a commoner who’d entered the academy on a scholarship. Her combat style—overwhelming first strike, instant knockout—was legendary for not even giving opponents time to blink.
Just how far would this girl keep winning? Everyone watched with bated breath.
Among the crowd were high-ranking officials scouting talent for next year’s recruitment. Exceptional commoner students were the most valuable finds. In a world teeming with beasts that preyed on humans, skilled fighters were always in high demand—be it as knights, adventurers, or bodyguards. And unlike nobles, Raze required no extra courtesies or delicate handling, making her an especially rare and precious asset in their eyes.
(Once this is over… it’s the finals.)
Now quite accustomed to the weight of everyone’s expectations, Raze glanced toward the entrance, where Ruben and Addis had stepped out of the waiting room to watch her match.
(There might never be another chance to defeat His Highness…)
It was a shame she couldn’t beat the son of the very noble who’d helped her so much—but facing the Crown Prince himself, the future Big Father of the realm, felt almost blasphemous. Reaffirming her goal—to avoid seriously injuring any fellow competitors—Raze focused her mind.
Her current opponent was none other than Claude: a romanceable character from that otome game, Ruben’s personal attendant, and—on the side—a practicing assassin.
(Shadow magic… seriously annoying…)
Of course Raze had noticed. She tilted her head up toward the sky, confirming the cheerful weather—fluffy clouds drifting lazily across a clear blue canvas.
“What a nice day~”
Raze murmured, still gazing upward, as if pondering what to do next.
The starting gong for battle rang out.
“Oops. That was close.”
This time, Raze didn’t charge straight at Claude with a lariat.
Instead, she lightly sidestepped as Claude suddenly appeared behind her, aiming a knife-hand strike downward.
“So… you noticed after all.”
Claude murmured, his technique having missed its mark.
[Whoa! What on earth just happened?! Up until now, Granoli was always the one who closed the distance instantly—but this time, it was Rezaiya who struck first!]
[That’s the famous shadow-specialty technique, “Shadow Leap”! It’s an extremely high-level spell that lets you teleport between shadows. I’m shocked to see a student this young has already mastered it!]
[“Shadow Leap,” you say…? It seems he’s been holding back this ability until now! To think he could close the gap faster than Granoli herself!?]
Thanks to the live commentary, the entire arena now understood exactly what Claude had done.
In the stands, Carne, Folia, Luca, and Ian watched, wide-eyed, realizing Claude was dead serious about taking Raze down.
“Not bad, Claude.”
Ian’s eyes gleamed with excitement—he looked ready to challenge him on the spot.
“Isn’t this the first time Raze didn’t attack first?”
“Right?! Exactly!”
Folia nodded eagerly at Carne’s observation, while Luca—who’d been deep in thought beside them—suddenly snapped his fingers as he watched the replay on the screen.
“So that’s it! I knew something felt off.”
Hearing Luca’s words, Folia tilted her head in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
“I figured out how Claude managed to outpace Granoli’s magic stone activation.”
“Huh? You mean Claude was faster than Raze this time?”
“Nope. Among students here, nobody can beat Granoli’s magic stone activation speed. Her initial burst is just on another level.”
“Now that you mention it… yeah.”
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Ian, having personally experienced Raze’s blinding speed, knew all too well: you couldn’t dodge it even if you tried, and you’d never have time to activate your own magic stone for defense.
“Then how did Claude manage to use Shadow Leap before Granoli could strike?”
“Simple. He activated his magic stone before the match even started.”
““Huh?!””
The unexpected answer left them all stunned.
“Is that even allowed?”
“Why not? The rules just say you can’t attack before the signal. It’s like the ‘On your marks, get set, go!’—the match effectively starts the moment they take their positions. Nobody ever said you can’t have your magic stone ready.”
“…That’s pretty unorthodox.”
“Says the guy who pulled that stunt?”
Luca shrugged, exasperated. Claude must’ve been pondering the rules after Ian’s match—likely inspired by Ian himself.
“If you prep in advance, there’s no casting delay. Honestly, it’s a smart move against Granoli. Though… it’s only necessary because Granoli’s just too damn fast.”
This tactic shouldn’t have been needed in a student tournament—which was precisely why nobody had thought of it before.
Luca’s point was spot-on. There shouldn’t have been such a massive gap in the fundamental skill of “magic stone activation for spellcasting.”
But Raze Granoli had spent her days spearheading expeditions into places like Baluda—regions even beyond this continent—amassing insane amounts of combat experience. That’s how this situation came to be.
In the VIP box, Prime Minister Wellrain could only chuckle wryly, while Headmaster Harrens scratched his head, already considering rule revisions for future tournaments.
“Impressive. In my line of work, very few people dodge that.”
“Line of work” meaning assassination, of course. Raze’s cheeks twitched at Claude’s words.
(A real pro… and he’s dead serious about killing me…)
Truthfully, an attack like that was easy enough for her to block outright—no dodging needed. She was even confident she could teleport faster than his Shadow Leap. But showing off too much wouldn’t be good—and more importantly, it’d make the match boring.
“Nice. Things are getting interesting.”
A playful curve formed on Raze’s lips.
“Tch!”
Claude’s hair stood on end as he leapt backward—but Raze pursued him instantly.
“Hey, I’ll borrow this for a sec. —Huh. It’s a practice knife, but it’s seen better days, hasn’t it?”
Raze twirled a dull-bladed tournament knife as she murmured.
Realizing it was the hidden weapon he kept under his clothes, Claude froze in horror. She’d stolen it the exact moment he swung his knife-hand down—there was no other explanation.
He was shaken that he hadn’t noticed until she pointed it out—but his poker face remained intact.
—I want to fight her. I want to win.
Ian wasn’t the only one who’d wanted a match with Raze. Claude, who—like her—came from a family of assassins, had never gone all-out in practical exams. He hated the idea of hurting opponents with his full strength, and standing out more than Ruben would be problematic.
But after watching Raze’s previous fights—and especially her bout with Ian—Claude felt an undeniable urge to test himself against her. He knew full well that winning this semifinal might mean facing Ruben in the finals. Yet his assassin’s sixth sense screamed at him: holding back against Raze would mean certain defeat. He’d succeeded in killing higher-ranked targets before—this feeling was no different.
There was no room now for thoughts unrelated to battle.
He’d focus entirely on this match against Raze. And of course—he intended to win.
Dodging her attacks, he flung small knives hidden in his sleeves in all directions. None hit Raze—but that was expected. Shadow Leap was a handy ability: as long as there was even the tiniest shadow, he could teleport anywhere. Claude leapt into the shadows cast by the knives now embedded in the ground.
(Damn… looks like high-speed movement isn’t my exclusive trademark after all…)
As another knife flew toward her from his new position, Raze sighed while dodging it.
This was exactly why she hated low-profile specialties.
(Trouble… this is really bad for my reputation.)
She frowned—an unusually dissatisfied expression—as if annoyed he’d pulled off flashier movement than her.
“Guess I’ll get a little serious.”
Dancing effortlessly through the flurry of knives, she launched her counterattack.
From the shadows, Claude emerged like a black spring bubbling up—and Raze hammered him down like a whack-a-mole.
“Wha—?!”
The moment he surfaced, Raze was already there. Claude instantly teleported to another shadow.
But Raze was waiting there too, knife in hand. No matter where he leapt, she chased him down—until Claude finally vanished completely into the shadows. Attacking the shadow he hid in would reflect damage back to him, so caution was needed—but at least his location should’ve been hidden.
Just as he thought that, Raze made a knowing motion and hurled her knife straight at the shadow of the very knife where Claude was hiding.
Instinctively, he teleported into the shadow of the incoming knife.
“It’s over.”
Raze had already moved in front of that shadow and spoke calmly. Claude tried to leap to another shadow—but froze mid-motion.
“The knives…”
—Were gone.
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