Chapter 410 (Patreon)

Jorge was now in his final year at the academy, yet somehow, despite everything that had happened over the past few years, he remained the vice president of the student council. He had watched countless students come and go, seen talented first-years become experienced fighters, and witnessed enough dungeon raids to understand that the academy was no longer the quiet institution it had once been.

And yesterday had only made that clearer.

Suri had been impressive during the opening match.

Even Jorge, who had spent years studying the skills and fighting styles of the academy's strongest students, had to admit that defeating her team would be difficult. They had better coordination than most teams their age, and Suri herself had become considerably more dangerous since last year's competition.

What bothered him most, however, wasn't simply their improvement.

They had somehow gained another skill.

Jorge adjusted his spectacles as the thought returned to him. Is this why the principal has been pushing the students so hard into dungeon raids?

It should have been illegal.

There had once been strict restrictions preventing students from entering dungeons because of their age, but the academy had somehow managed to obtain an exception. The king himself had changed the law, allowing academy students to enter dungeons regardless of age as long as they possessed a permit issued by the academy.

At first, Jorge had thought it was simply another measure to prepare the students for the future.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

Perhaps it was the dungeon items that had allowed them to gain additional skills. Perhaps it was the experience they gained from fighting monsters far more dangerous than anything normally found in their lessons. Or perhaps there was something else entirely happening behind the scenes.

Whatever the reason was, Jorge was certain of one thing.

Something much bigger was happening.

Earlier that morning, the matchups for the next round had finally been announced.

Jorge's team had drawn one of the second-year teams. Most of them were from the Mythic Class.

And among them was Kana's friend, Boris.

Jorge had known Boris for quite some time. He had occasionally visited the orphanage where Boris, Suri and Kana usually stay during weekends, though Boris had never been particularly famous as much as the two. Unlike Kana and Suri, whose names seemed to spread wherever they went, Boris had remained relatively quiet.

Even during last year's annual competition, he hadn't attracted nearly as much attention as the other two members of the famous trio from Saltrain Village.

That reputation, however, had started to change.

Boris was an excellent frontliner. Unfortunately, most people still considered him the weakest link of the three.

Currently, his team for the annual competition had slowly gathered inside the waiting area beneath the artificial arena. The stone walls around them were thick enough to muffle most of the noise from the spectators above, though the occasional roar from the crowd still trembled through the ceiling.

Jorge adjusted his spectacles and looked over his teammates.

They were relaxed for now, chatting among themselves while waiting for their match. There were still two battles before theirs.

They had plenty of time. Then one of his teammates suddenly approached him.

The young man who just arrived looked unusually tense, and the large spear strapped across his back was nearly taller than he was. “Jorge!”

Jorge turned toward him. “Yes?”

“We need to stop Boris.” Jorge raised an eyebrow. “He's a problem?”

“A huge one.” One of their front liners, a [Spearman] glanced around before lowering his voice. “If we don't deal with him early, we might lose in the first round.”

Jorge stared at him for a moment.

Every member of their team was a fourth-year student from the Mythic Class. They had spent years training together, and most of them had already fought against students younger than themselves countless times.

Jorge couldn't help but smirk. “You're a fourth-year [Spearman]. You can't defeat your younger fellow one?”

The young man's expression immediately became serious. “You don't know him.”

Jorge's smirk faded slightly.

The [Spearman] continued. “No one has beaten him in our sparring.”

Jorge blinked. “Not once?”

“Not once.”

The young man tightened his grip around his spear. “Not even Professor Fin.”

Jorge's eyes widened. “He defeated Professor Fin?”

“Not exactly.” The spearman shook his head. “They're equal.”

He paused before continuing. “But I heard Professor Fin admitted that Boris wasn't fighting seriously during their spar.”

Jorge's expression became considerably more serious. “And if Boris had been?”

“He would have lost.” 

For a moment, Jorge said nothing. The sounds of the arena above seemed to become distant. So that was the problem. Boris wasn't simply a talented second-year student. He was someone who could potentially tear through their formation if they allowed him to fight the way he wanted.

Jorge slowly pushed his spectacles higher on his nose. “Then we're changing our tactics.”

The [Spearman] looked relieved.

Jorge turned toward the rest of the team and raised his voice. “Everyone, gather around!”

The conversations immediately stopped. One by one, the fourth-year students turned toward him and gathered around.

Jorge and their [Spearman] explained everything he had learned about Boris, from his reputation in sparring to his overwhelming strength as a frontliner. He made certain everyone understood that underestimating him simply because he was a second-year would be the easiest way for them to lose.

Once everyone understood the threat, they began discussing their options.

They eventually settled on a simple strategy.

They would not allow Boris to control the battlefield.

One tank would engage him directly, forcing his attention forward, while three close-range damage dealers would move around his flank and attack him from different directions. The rest of the team would focus on the other members of Boris' party, preventing them from interfering.

It wasn't complicated.

But it didn't need to be.

Jorge had already studied the available information from their previous activities, and based on what he knew about the other members of Boris' team, he was confident they could handle them.

Their biggest obstacle was Boris. So they would remove him first.

Jorge looked toward the staircase leading up to the arena.

The roar of the crowd grew louder.

He adjusted his spectacles one last time. “Don't fight him like he's a second-year.”

Jorge's eyes narrowed. “Fight him like he's the strongest person standing in that arena.”

….

Roy found himself doubting the entire strategy the moment he stepped into the middle of the arena.

Standing across from them were fourth-year students from the Mythic Class, a team that had already been considered one of the favorites to win this year's annual competition. If they had wanted an easy opponent to test their new strategy against, they couldn't have chosen anyone worse.

Last year, the same team had been defeated by Mica's group during the early stages of the competition, but it had been an extremely close battle. Roy still remembered hearing about it afterward, and from everything he had learned since then, the fourth-years had only become stronger.

This is going to be tough..

The crowd around the arena roared as another battle took place on the other side of the divided field. Since there were no special guests this year, the organizers had decided to split the enormous arena into simply two separate sections, allowing multiple matches to happen at the same time.

Roy barely paid attention to the other battle.

He had enough trouble worrying about the one directly in front of him.

Then someone in the crowd waved. “Hen! Hen de Grey!”

Hen lifted one hand and waved back.

That was apparently enough.

Several girls immediately started giggling, and a few more people shouted his name. For some reason, Hen was drawing more attention than anyone else on their team, so much so that even the opposing students looked irritated whenever they glanced in his direction.

Roy wasn't surprised.

Hen had somehow managed to look like he was attending a festival instead of preparing for a serious battle.

Adam, meanwhile, was standing beside them with the largest weapon Roy had ever seen carried by a student. A huge casket rested against his back, strapped tightly across his shoulders, while a double-headed axe hung from his waist.

And yet nobody seemed interested in him.

Adam clicked his tongue. “I told you. We shouldn't have let him join the team.”

Boris glanced toward Hen before sighing. “He's quite capable.”

He paused. “But I agree. We should have at least covered his face.”

Toby looked toward the crowd, then toward Hen, then back toward the crowd.

Roy couldn't help but laugh. The strangest part was that none of them seemed particularly concerned about the battle.

Roy finally turned toward Boris. “Are you guys not worried that we might lose in the first round?”

Boris looked at him. There wasn't even a hint of nervousness in his expression.

Instead, he puffed out his chest. Thorne, standing proudly on top of his head in her tiny customized armor, immediately copied the gesture and puffed himself up as well. “I have a secret weapon.”

Roy stared at him.

Boris grinned. “I'll use it if we start losing.”

Toby and Roy looked at each other. “I doubt that.”

They said it at almost exactly the same time.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then they both laughed.

Above them, the sky was perfectly clear, the bright blue stretching endlessly over the temporary arena as if even the weather had decided to cooperate with the kingdom's biggest event of the year.

The laughter faded when the signal was given.

The two teams moved into position.

They stood several meters apart, watching each other carefully.

Roy immediately noticed something strange.

The fourth-year students had formed a proper battle formation, spreading themselves according to their roles. Their team however, had lined up horizontally in a single straight line. It was so unusual that murmurs immediately spread through the crowd.

Even Roy didn't understand it. Even Boris couldn’t really explain it well.

Then the man in charge of the battle raised his hand. The entire arena became silent. His hand dropped. “Begin!”

The fourth-years immediately charged. Four of them broke away from their formation and ran straight toward Boris' direction.

Roy's eyes widened.

Boris was standing at the furthest right side of their formation, yet the four students had deliberately chosen him as their target.

They're going after Boris first.

That made sense. What didn't make sense was what happened next.

They ran as well. The four fourth years who were running towards Boris, eyes widened as they realized all of them were actually running towards them.

Darren Tip, one of their classmates from the Mythic Class and their support, a [Bard], raised his instrument and began singing.

His voice was terrible. Roy had to endure every painful note of it, but the moment the song took effect, he felt his legs become lighter. It wasn't anywhere close to Yuri's skill, but it was enough to make their movements noticeably faster than usual.

And the most important part was that nobody was left behind.

They were moving together.

Roy's expression changed.

So that's their strategy.

They were trying to overwhelm and hold Boris.

Adam suddenly paused. The enormous casket came loose from his back.

“Move!”

He grabbed it with both hands and hurled it forward.

The massive object flew across the arena toward the center of the fourth-year formation. The crowd gasped.

One of the fourth-year students immediately reacted. He thrust his staff forward.

A powerful gust of wind exploded from his staff, catching the casket and violently changing its trajectory.

The massive object was pushed away from their formation.

Roy watched it fly sideways.

For a moment, it looked as though their attack had failed.

Adam didn't even react.

Toby simply grinned. Because it didn't matter.

Roy lowered his gaze and quietly raised one hand. Dark mana gathered around his fingers. He could already feel something stirring beneath the arena floor.

Roy whispered the words beneath his breath. “[Greater Raise Undead].”

The ground beneath them trembled.

And from the damaged casket, something began to rise.

Post note:

You might be a [Bard] but it doesn’t mean you are good at singing. 😂

Probably forgot him already but Jorge, the one that was always beside Elle York during student council meetups at the early chapters when Kana was still a member.

Apologies for the late post(got home late)Fourth chap of the week.

Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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