Episode 100

Episode 100

Anti-magic weapon.

A weapon that absorbs or disperses magical energy.

Such weapons were usually used by swordsmen who often fought mages or by imperial anti-magic factions.

They certainly weren’t weapons for freshmen at a magic school.

‘But the one who gave this to me was the principal of this school.’

Ihan quickly finished justifying himself. Then swung the sword again.

Kgh! Why did my master approve someone like this as a freshman…! An insolent brat like you should be expelled at once…!

Ihan almost snapped back on impulse.

He almost retorted, ‘Your master is the one who taught me this.’

‘That was a close call. This guy is quite skilled at manipulating people’s emotions.’

As expected from a principal’s summon—it was good at manipulating an opponent’s feelings.

Crunch!

The undead summon, twice cut by Morning Star, had lost considerable mana.

Even powerful undead summons weren’t truly immortal. If they exhausted all their mana, they could only be reverse-summoned.

Realizing that its opponent fought unbelievably well for a freshman, the undead summon changed tactics.

It summoned sand to enclose itself.

It was a type of armor.

I shall no longer consider you a freshman. I, in the honor of the name my master bestowed upon me—Zorban the Second—will defeat you!

‘It even had a name?’

Usually, being given a name meant the summon was one the master put great effort into.

Ihan slightly regretted not going easier on him.

Reveal yourself, mage! If you don’t come out right now, I have my own ways.

Of course, Ihan ignored this and widened the distance.

Zorban the Second struck the ground with its forepaw. Cones of sand began to form in the air.

You were warned!

“!”

Zorban the Second’s strategy was simple.

Rain down a barrage in all directions so Ihan couldn’t get close.

A single hit could shatter bones, but Zorban the Second no longer saw his foe as a mere freshman. He had no intention of holding back.

As the sand cones blasted through the surrounding bushes and twigs, Ihan had no choice but to retreat even further.

‘I need to deal more damage before it recovers.’

The longer it dragged on, the more advantageous for the enemy. Ihan pondered his next strategy.

Iron or water orbs lacked destructive power, and destructive lightning magic wouldn’t work due to the sand armor.

‘Trying to add spin like last time… not possible. He won’t just wait for me.’

A way to shake the fortress-like opponent, make it cancel magic, and create an opening.

Did he have one now?

“……”

Now that he thought about it, he did.

Professors and spirits had warned him not to do it because of the danger…

But even they wouldn’t have foreseen a situation like this.

“Burn!”

What’s that foolishness…

From behind, as Ihan cast a first-circle ignition, Zorban the Second turned its head in disbelief.

What could you do with such a candle flame?

……

But the blaze facing Zorban the Second looked a bit more serious than a candle flame.

• * *

“Cough!”

Angrago and Duke-ma crawled across the sand, coughing up grains.

They’d just been dragged to some unknown dungeon, buried up to their necks, then suddenly spat out onto the sandbar again.

Having swallowed some sand in the process, their mouths were rough.

“What’s going… Wordanaz?”

Far off, Ihan was staggering toward them.

It was a look never seen on Wordanaz before—thoroughly beaten up.

His hair was a mess, one arm splinted as if injured in a fight.

His face, normally shadowed, looked even more expressionless and cold.

Angrago was more shocked than the night the skeleton principal had shown up in the mountains.

Who the heck could do that to Wordanaz?!

‘What sort of method could do that much damage?!’

“W-Wordanaz! Are you alright?!”

“Don’t come closer.”

Ihan spoke with a scowl.

It was never good to let enemies get close when you were weakened.

But the White Tiger Tower students took it another way.

“We’re fine.”

“We’re not sinking like before! We’ll come help you now!”

“……”

Watching them rush clumsily over the sand, Ihan briefly considered striking first.

‘No. I might need at least one more, who knows what’s left on this island.’

“What happened…?”

Ihan explained simply:

The story of Zorban the Second, the skeleton principal’s summon lying in wait under the sandbar.

Even while talking, he remained wary. If the White Tiger Tower guys so much as went for a weapon, he’d take them down first.

But Angrago and Duke-ma, fools that they were, never saw this as a chance for payback.

Truly such idiots.

“Wordanaz, let me see your arm. I’m an expert in this field.”

Duke-ma said earnestly.

Students from knightly families knew basic first aid and bone-setting.

Duke-ma was especially skilled, having come to magic school to study healing magic even more seriously.

“I’ve already handled it. I’m fine.”

“Wordanaz, among White Tiger Tower students there’s no one better than— Actually, you did really well.”

Trying to convince Ihan, Duke-ma reversed himself.

It had been expertly splinted—truly neat work.

…Why is this guy from House Wordanaz so good at this anyway?

Not even from a knightly house…

“But maybe there’s still something not quite right, let me just—”

“What are you doing, Duke-ma? If the splint’s done that well, unwrapping it’ll just make things worse!”

Angrago stopped Duke-ma. Duke-ma sulked, trying to insist, but eventually gave up and backed down.

“Rrgh…!”

Ihan pulled his arm back, regarding Duke-ma with a frosty stare.

The White Tiger Tower guys really couldn’t be trusted.

“Wordanaz. Was that undead summon… was it you who dealt with it?”

“Yes.”

“!”

They’d suspected as much, but to think Ihan really defeated the summon.

The fact that a freshman alone beat the summon the skeleton principal set at the sandbar astonished Angrago and Duke-ma.

‘So that’s why his arm is broken…’

‘It really was a fierce fight…’

They pictured the scene in their heads.

On one side, Ihan of the mighty Wordanaz line, who had mastered all secrets of black magic despite being a mere first year.

On the other, Zorban the Second, lord of the sandbar and loyal servant of the skeleton principal—a wicked bone-turtle.

Surely they’d exchanged black magics beyond their wildest imaginations.

Looking around, it was clear the fight had been intense—trees and brush all torn apart.

Honestly, amazing!

Angrago stared closely at charred bits nearby.

Judging by scorch marks as high as the branches, the blast radius was tremendous.

“Don’t tell me you also…”

Ihan nodded.

Angrago did his best to hide his shock.

He couldn’t even guess what fire spell could burn the whole area like this.

That splint had to come from such a fight—casting fire magic and still attacked by the undead summon.

Even among knightly families, few would have kept fighting in such a situation.

Most White Tiger Tower students only paid attention to Wordanaz’s evil genius magical skills…

…but even Angrago had to admit it.

Wordanaz’s courage was rare even among the White Tiger Tower.

‘Amazing…!’

But the fight had actually played out a bit differently than he imagined.

• * *

What kind of brute is this?!

As Ihan conjured flames large enough to engulf the area, Zorban the Second was shocked.

In truth, if he’d kept calm, he could have blocked the attack.

Although massive, the fire was too unwieldy to be precise.

And with the amount of sand at Zorban’s disposal, he could have withstood it easily—just reinforce his armor.

But startled, Zorban made a mistake. In a panic, he dropped his sand armor and tried to extinguish the flame early.

Ihan didn’t miss this chance.

Using swordsmanship learned from Alarrong, the Byokam Sword bloomed from his blade, bursting down with a massive stone-like blow onto Zorban.

It wasn’t just another strike to the legs—this blow slammed Zorban’s whole body, draining all remaining mana and forcing a reverse summoning.

Zorban growled, voice full of regret.

Just wait, freshman. I’ll remember your name. What is your name?

“…I’m Giselle of the Moradi family.”

Just wait, Moradi! Next time I see you, I won’t go easy just because you’re a freshman!

“……”

Ihan kept a wary eye on Zorban as it dissipated.

Because of that, his reaction was late when a nearby tree, broken and burning, fell.

It had been hit by an earlier sand cone, took fire, and collapsed.

“…!”

By the time he reacted, he had no choice but to take a hard hit on one arm.

• * *

Cursing the throbbing pain, Ihan swore at Zorban the Second internally.

‘Damn. If only that undead had died quietly…’

“Wordanaz, you could have just given up… Why fight so hard?”

Angrago couldn’t help but ask.

He could have just gone under the sandbar—so why?

He couldn’t understand.

“Well…”

Ihan was about to say ‘Because I didn’t want to face the trial with you two,’ but stopped himself.

Antagonizing two knights with only one working arm was not smart.

“…Giving up like that would be a dishonorable act.”

Ihan was realizing lately how useful the word “honor” was.

• Wordanaz, I can’t find that phrase anywhere in the book—can’t I just give up?
• That wouldn’t be honorable.
• Sorry I always make you do everything, Wordanaz. I’ll try to handle it myself this time.
• That wouldn’t be honorable.
• Ihan, I really can’t solve this—can I just copy it?
• If you don’t want to get hit, be quiet and solve it.
• Why is it always me…!

Just tack on “honor” anytime it’s hard to answer, and people interpret it favorably on their own.

White Tiger Tower students were no exception.

“…I see…!”

“House Wordanaz’s honor…”

Angrago and Duke-ma nodded heavily, convinced.

House Wordanaz was ruthless and cold, but their house’s honor carried weight.

For someone carrying that name, actions like that were only natural.

‘An enemy of the White Tiger Tower, but that’s something I have to acknowledge.’

‘An enemy of knights, but I have to acknowledge that.’

“Wordanaz, until your arm heals, we’ll be your arms!”

“Here, give me your backpack! I’ll carry it!”

“If you touch my backpack, you’ll leave here with broken bones.”

“……”

“……”

“I was joking.”

Until Ihan told them he was joking, the two White Tiger Tower students froze up, not even daring to breathe.

What kind of terrifying joke was that?

“R-right? It was a joke, right?”

“To joke with that face… haha. Hahaha.”

“What face do you mean?”

“N-nothing. Let’s go, Wordanaz!”

Duke-ma hurriedly led the way.

Ihan asked Angrago,

“Did he even know where he was going?”

“…Duke-ma! Where are you going! Get back here!”