"I will do it," I repeated, keeping my hand aloft. "I'll fight in the first match."

"Ha ha ha ha!" Hal Gunther burst out laughing. "So there is someone with backbone after all! Hurry up then!"

I nodded and began making my way toward the stage. As I descended the stairs, Teacher Fielding stepped forward.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't mean to criticize you, but…you don't exactly have a good record. And Hal Gunther is pretty notorious…"

"That's exactly why I don't mind going up," I replied with an easy smile. "I have nothing to lose. My record is zero wins and ninety-nine losses. What's one more defeat? Besides…" I turned serious. "While he's beating me up, maybe someone else will muster up the courage and challenge him. And hopefully find a counter."

"You don't have to do this for the academy, you know." Teacher Fielding seemed to misunderstand me.

"Oh, that's not the reason. I'm just p.i.s.sed off. Not just at him taunting the school, but at the rest of my schoolmates for not having the courage to face him. Then I realized…what right do I have to be angry at others if I myself don't have the courage to challenge that b.a.s.t.a.r.d?" I smiled again. "Maybe they will get a wake-up call when they see the weakest and bottom-ranked mage in school having the courage to challenge that arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"…" Teacher Fielding nodded and stepped back. "Good luck. And don't force yourself. If you can't do it, then surrender immediately."

I didn't respond, mostly because I had no intention of surrendering so easily to the egotistical b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"This will follow the national academy tournament format…meaning a team of five versus a team of five. At the end of every match, you have the option to swap out the fighter in stage…and as long as he or she has not been eliminated, he or she can return in a later match. The battle ends when all the fighters in one team are eliminated."

As per protocol, Director Violet stipulated the rules clearly. I barely nodded in acknowledgement, having known them for as long as I had been enrolled in the academy. Director Violet smiled encouragingly at me, but his eyes did not register any recognition. It was only natural. In an academy where over a thousand students enrolled at any given year, there was no way he would remember every single student.

He probably remembered only my name as the last-ranked mage in his school, but that was all he knew of me, really. Just a name. He wouldn't know how I looked like, for he had probably never personally met me before. Someone as busy as the director wouldn't have the chance to memorize and meet each and every student in his school.

Hal Gunther snorted when I stepped up into the stage. His team had retreated to the seats below the stage, watching the match from below (or through the gigantic hologram above), as did Director Violet and Gance.

"You the best they got?" he sneered.

"No," I replied honestly. "I'm the worst, actually."

Nervous laughter rippled through the spectators, because the majority of them knew I was telling the truth. Hal Gunther, unfortunately, didn't get the joke because he was an outsider. He scowled, thinking I was messing with him.

"Huh? What the f.u.c.k are you on about?"

"I'm dead last in the rankings," I explained flatly. That wasn't something to take pride in, but it did have the effect of pouring on Hal Gunther's parade. Especially because he was looking forward to wiping the floor with the best students in the academy.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d…!" Hal Gunther flared up when he realized the slight. He then clamped down on his fury and grinned malevolently. "Idiot. You think that will convince me to take pity on you? I don't care if you're last or first…I'm still not going to show you any mercy." He laughed. "I'll enjoy torturing you and taking you apart."

I shrugged. "I could always just surrender. It's not as if it would embellish my horrible record."

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"f.u.c.ker…" Hal Gunther was growing more furious. "I will ensure you won't have a quick, easy death. You will beg for death, this I swear."

The moron was speaking figuratively, of course. Students were not allowed to kill each other in matches. And in any case, there was a protective enchantment now being cast over the arena, which converted our bodies into soul manifestations. Simply put, as long as we remained within the vicinity of the coliseum, we would never die.

We would still take damage, suffer pain and pa.s.s out, but…to put it in game terms, our HP would never go zero. we would probably hit a minimum of one HP, pa.s.s out, and then be ferried to the infirmary for Teacher Cure to heal us with her miraculous healing spells. There was no danger of death. Ever since this enchantment had been invented, n.o.body had died from a match.

A pity it couldn't be used in actual battlefields, for monsters and demons would just rip the enchantment apart with their sheer presences.

Ignoring Hal, I took my place in the opposite end of the arena. Fuming, Hal did the same. We both turned to face each other.

"Fighters, take your stance!"

As usual, Teacher Fielding served at the referee. He had followed me down the stairs shortly after I had stepped into the arena. Staying outside the enchantment (to ensure n.o.body rushes out to destroy it), he raised a hand.

Hal Gunther grinned cruelly as he drew his bow. It was an exquisite, hi-tech Divine Device, glowing ethereally in several areas as he gathered his magical energy into it.

"?"

He stared at me when I merely stood there motionlessly, doing nothing but raising my hands in a defensive stance.

"Where is your Divine Device?" he demanded.

"What makes you think I have one?" I retorted.

Hal Gunther snorted and shook his head. Already he was thinking how lame and boring this match would be, and was clearly plotting to make me suffer as much as possible for wasting his time.

"Ready…"

Teacher Fielding didn't seem to bother with what was transpiring in the arena. He held his hand steady in the air and glanced at both of us. Then he swung it down.

"Fight!"

Hal Gunther immediately launched several energy arrows at me, the blinding projectiles speeding toward me.

I stepped to the side, easily evading them. At the same time, several thoughts ran through my head as I studied him.

Hal Gunther was clearly an archer-type combat mage who specialized in long-range offensive magic. Those arrows were fast, but they seemed to lack power. He must be the type who relied on speed instead of strength.

For a moment, Hal Gunther confirmed my guess by launching several more arrows in succession. Fortunately, I had been sparring with Dad long enough to be able to detect the trajectories of his arrows and was able to dodge them.

"??"

Something wasn't right. Hal Gunther was supposed to be an elite mage from a top-ten magic academy, wasn't he? Yet for some reason I was evading his arrows more easily than I was against all the other opponents I had fought against in my own school.

Had I gotten stronger and faster over the past week while training nonstop with my Dad?

"!!!"

A foolish mistake. Another blazing arrow whizzed past my face, grazing my cheek and drawing a line of blood. Any higher and it would have knocked my gla.s.ses off, obliterating them.

That was faster and more powerful than before!

Even though my original intent was to close in and engage Hal Gunther in close combat – an archer was usually more vulnerable in close combat, where I could negate his advantage at range – I was forced to withdraw when another volley of arrows bombarded my positon. Skidding backward, I glanced at a grinning Hal.

He already had a new batch of energy arrows summoned and notched.

Whizz!

"Ugh!"

I jumped back, but a couple of the arrows lanced through my forearm, causing blood to splatter on the ground. I staggered back, red-hot pain exploding through my arm and almost causing me to black out.

A series of groans reverberated across the crowd.

"It's over."

"I knew that loser couldn't do it."

"Was that ever in doubt?"

"This is going to be fast."

At least that was what I thought too, but I overheard a conversation taking place nearby.

"No, it won't. The Phantom Hunter never lets his matches end too quickly. He enjoys toying around with his opponents and torturing them into submission."

"Oh, right. I once watched a match where he caused his female opponent to cry after hitting her with over a hundred arrows. He was slowly cutting off her clothes with his arrows one at a time."

"What a sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d…"

Then it hit me. I had been horribly wrong this entire time.

It wasn't that Hal Gunther was weaker than my other opponents, or that his arrows were weak, or that I was easily dodging his arrows.

My opponent had been holding back this entire time, slowly gauging my strength and making sure he didn't knock me out too early.

"…"

"What's the matter?" Hal Gunther sneered as he loosed another volley of arrows. I managed to just barely dodge this time, rolling to the side as several of the energy projectiles stabbed into the reinforced ground.

He grinned as he watched me jump back to my feet and produced a few new arrows.

"Don't surrender just yet, trash," he sn.i.g.g.e.red derisively. "I want to savor this match and your pain for as long as I can."