CHAPTER 43

  HIGH EXPECTATIONS

  It’s been a day, but Hans couldn’t shake the memory of the incredible sight soaring through the clouds. “Ugh, just go to sleep already,” he grumbled, trying to push aside the lingering awe. “She must be hundreds of meters long. Elderwood looks cute next to her… Stop it, focus on sleeping,” he scolded himself again before finally giving in to the exhaustion that crept in late at night.

  He got a much-needed break from his volunteer duties due to his healing efforts and providing mana recovery fruits. Due to which he enjoyed an undisturbed sleep until late afternoon. “Knock! Knock! It’s Zephyr—”

  “Do you have to say the 'knock knock’, man? It’s an open hall.” Hans aroused from his bed with sleep still in his eyes.

  Zephyr grinned, “Where is fun in that?”

  “True.” Hans quickly jolted up.

  “Didn’t you say there was a junior whom you were mentoring? It’s the battle of junior league today. Don’t you want to see it?” Zephyr asked in his friendly tone.

  “Give me a second.” Hans ran towards the bathroom and came out as fast as he went. “Done. Let’s go.”

  While they walked towards the common hall, Zephyr said how there wasn’t any mentorship program when he was at Concordia.

  “You missed the fun then, senior.” Hans jested, “it’s real fun to beat your junior in the name of training.”

  Zephyr chuckled with Hans, and there she was, Hera, waiting for him in her usual spot. Before Zephyr could get his revenge on Hans for his earlier teasing, Hans quickly interrupted, “Don’t even think about it. She’s not.”

  The youngest red monk chuckled and headed to his squad’s table. Some were fortunate to enjoy glory wars, but some had to work, since they couldn’t just let go of their duty and dwell in the entertainment. It was the last line of defence against red demons after all.

  “So, kiddo, do you have any junior you want to cheer on—”

  “No, but I’ll probably beat the life out of one if he loses.” Hans stared at the screen.

  “Which one?” Hera focussed on the screen.

  “The sneezy-looking one.” Hans pointed.

  “He doesn’t look that strong?” Hera was puzzled, and so was Hans.

  “How the heck does she know by just a glance?” He asked himself, but his inner thoughts must’ve been heard by Hera, so she answered herself by asking a question to Hans.

  “Why do you think they broadcast the whole event, son?”

  “For fame.” It was an easy answer, but his answer was half correct according to Hera. She pointed out, “The broadcasting artefact not only transmits the image, kiddo, but the wavelength of mana that these youngsters are emanating. This whole setup is for nobles and powerful people to pick out their choices early by sensing these competitors’ potential early on. Didn’t you know? That is the reason students do their very best to shine in glory wars.”

  It all made sense, but an artefact which was capable of transmitting the mana wavelength of each individual really surprised him since he wasn’t aware of that last year.

  “So, what’s so special about that young elf?” Hera asked, confused since she still couldn’t detect any anomaly in Vanir.

  “You won’t find it no matter how hard you focus, ma’am. Vanir’s strong suit isn’t strength. He is a technical person. A brute like you won’t be able to grasp his potential.”

  “A brute. Aren’t you taking liberty with me? I’m the one in charge here.” She came close, scolding him.

  “Sorry, my bad. So, whom are you pinning on?” Hans asked, and Hera’s sullen face lit up instantly.

  “My cute niece, Allynna.” Just as Hera said that name, Hans realised once again that Hera was the elder sister of the current queen of Clandor, making her the aunt of Allynna, whose birthday present he had stolen. “I’m still breathing; that’s some bloody luck I have here.”

  “What’s with your face? It seems like you’ve seen a ghost.” Hera inquired.

  “Nothing, it’s just I’m not close to your niece, not at all—”

  “You are saying it after making her cry a river… robbing her!”

  “In my defence, I saved her life in doing so. That pendant is a payment I took.” Hans defended, and if Hera didn’t know it as true, no matter who Hans was, he would’ve at least been beaten badly and blue once, keeping the pendant was another story.

  Just like last year, the junior league only allowed three participants from each team, and Parv was absent in this time. Only Arat had made his appearance at the start and then left for home in the name of some exigency.

  Concordia, Mage Tower, Knight Association, and this league’s wild card entry was the Royal Academy of Sunfall. With twelve participants total, there were ten matches scheduled. In Concordia, there was Vanir, Allynna, and Misty— one knight, two mages.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Since the start, people glued their eyes to the arena. The yesterday’s battle had left them in awe, and the first match of the junior league was between the next Clandorian queen, Allynna, and the Knight Association.

  Hans had seen Allynna, and he termed her as ‘Failure with immense potential.’ So he wasn’t expecting much from her, but that wasn’t the case with Hera. As Delimira said, the innocence that Allynna carried had the power to attract others towards her. Only he was immune to that.

  But what he saw in the arena the next moment was something far from an innocent princess. She was like a ravaging storm with fury of strike that put the Knight Association boy, her opponent, in shame in mere 50 seconds.

  It was the quickest win of this year’s Glory wars and left Hans with a face that Delimira would have paid to see. “Close your mouth, kiddo, that’s my niece for you.” She raised a glass, and so did everyone watching.

  Hans was startled, “Since when could she fight this good—”

  “Her mother was ranked eighth in the profession where men dominate with strength.” Hera pointed out, “Don’t you think something would’ve passed down?”

  Hans kept his silence; he didn’t want to say anything bad about her. The next match was what he had waited for: Vanir of Concordia vs. mage tower prodigy, an elf of clandor from the noble sides. With her shiny blond hair, she was adorned with blue mage robes and a pretty head on strong shoulders. Her figure was on the slightly muscular side.

  “Damn, what are they feeding in Clandor?” Hans remarked. “They are saying she is a mage, right?”

  “Marise’s daughter, they are from Count Marise’s house, western Clandor. Their whole lineage is blessed with strong bodies.” Hera explained. “She is a tough cookie, kiddo. Do you think your boy would beat her?”

  “Dunno. As I’ve told you, Vanir didn’t shine in raw power—”

  “Then what?”

  “You’ll see, ma’am.” Hans mumbled and focused as the match started.

  Vanir and her opponent both were mages, so they both remained calm, observing others. However, after a brief staring contest, Vanir broke the silence by shooting a ThunderBall, a first-circle spell at Marise’s girl. She easily dodged it using Wind Step. The spell Delimira had used many times in avoiding Hans in the past.

  “Hmm… that was rather slow for a ThunderBall. Are you sure you didn’t take a rotten fruit, kiddo?” Hera remarked, but Hans remained calm. He already knew Vanir wasn’t that good in combat to begin with.

  However, he had confidence in his ingenuity. “Come on, Vanir, don’t disappoint me.” He mumbled, his fist clenching in nervousness and focussed on the screen.

  Vanir probed her with several ThunderBalls, but she kept dodging them effortlessly. “Is that all you got, commoner? I’ve heard you were a challenge. A brat who follows the prince of Parv amounts to this much—”

  “Pft…” Vanir chuckled. “Finally, she talks.” He remarked. “I thought you were mute?”

  “I don’t have to talk with a lowborn like you—”

  “I know. So, I’d like to see how you would feel losing against a lowborn with a mere first-circle spell? I’m looking forward to it, so don’t lose easily, Noble—”

  “How dare you?” Marise’s girl cut him off in the middle. She was a second-circle mage, and even with Vanir’s expanded mana pool, he was fairly beaten in terms of the mana volume she held.

  “How dare I, you ask?” Vanir taunted, “I’ll make it easy for you. I won’t use any spell other than this Thunderball. What do you say? It’s a mercy from me.” He grinned; it was obvious whom he picked this attitude from.

  And Hera easily caught the similarity, “You seem to be a bad influence in your junior—”

  “I hope that idiot didn’t only pick the way I irritate the others.” Hans remained composed, but he knew Vanir didn’t have what it takes to back up his words. However, his determined eyes were screaming to trust him.

  “ThunderBall” he cried, and a purple circle conjured above his palm, and it wasn’t only his right but both hands. He began to barrage at her, but his newly conjured Thunderballs of quantity rather than quality. They were so weak that even if it hit, it would mostly sting a little.

  The mage girl was easily able to understand this, but she didn’t underestimate her opponent and chose to waltz around the arena while dodging. Vanir, on the other hand, kept shooting in a frenzy.

  She even levitated and went above Vanir, yet he didn’t stop firing. He was running out of mana and was nearing a mana exhaustion state.

  “Are you an idiot? What can be expected from a commoner?” The girl mage quipped, seeing him gasping.

  But the confidence Vanir had before starting the match still remained in his unwavering eyes. “I told you, I’ll only use Thunderball Noble.” he said, wiping his mouth as he corrected his standing pose.

  “Thunderball.” He conjured another purple circle in his right, but it was aiming above his head. This was the genuine Thunderball, carrying all his available mana and launched it high in the sky.

  This perplexed anyone until the lightning ball in the sky stopped its ascent and started levitating like a balloon. “The thunderballs you dodged weren’t meant to hit you. This whole area is now a huge electric field you illiterate moron of a noble.” Vanir pointed above, “And that floating high is the conductor. Enjoy the path of least resistance— Zap!”

  He wasn’t even halfway done, and the floating ThunderBall got hit by a lightning bolt from the sky! It struck the arena right there. “BOOM!” The whole place shook. It was like a fifth-circle thunder spell, but he was immune to lightning magic, so it just recharged him back and blackened his opponent.

  “Uneducated Morons.” Vanir commented and stepped down from the arena. Even the proctor was shocked, and the winner announcement was delayed.

  Hans was grinning ear to ear, proudly showing off. And as everyone was baffled to see someone using natural lighting as the attack. He remarked to Hera, “I told you, raw power is not where he shines, but using his head.”

  “The… that would’ve been impossible. The calculation he set for generating an electric field, his Thunderball which is used to conduct the lighting and its own variable earthing, strong enough to attract a lightning bolt from the sky. These three had to remain the same throughout the channeling, even with an artefact, it’s near impossible—”

  Hans didn’t respond to her since he didn’t understand it either, but he wanted to gloat, so he nodded, “yes, he is a born genius which Clandor just threw away. Our dear Chairman even offered him to refer to the Alchemist department when he was just in his first year.”

  “You are a scary kid even in finding talents, kiddo.”

  “I sure am.” Hans muttered. He just couldn’t stop grinning. While Vanir went down the platform, his head held high as he looked down on others. He turned to the other participants and declared, “I came here to win, so be prepared to die.”

  If he had not sent the mage girl to a critical situation, no one had believed his words. But the noble participant of the mage tower was barely breathing after taking on the lightning strike. So the remaining participant became cautious of Vanir the most.

  “He acts like you.” Hera remarked.

  “Of course he does. You’ve got to slaughter your first opponent to gain a psychological advantage over others. It’s the basic strategy.” Hans hadn’t taught anything to Vanir. He was just smart enough to pick up his habits of overpowering others, whether it was getting under their skin or burning them.