And so, the battle reached a state of perfect equilibrium.
The B-class students each challenged A-class students with whom they had good compatibility, while Nina and Sara covered the difference in overall power.
As for Katia—the greatest threat in A-class—Ermes held her back with everything he had, pressing her relentlessly so she wouldn't have a moment to send reinforcements elsewhere, buying precious time.
The result was a current state of flawless evenness.
From here on, it was truly a battle of individuals.
If someone in B-class fell and the front line collapsed, or if Ermes could no longer hold Katia in check, they would lose. Conversely, if the B-class students could defeat their A-class opponents and turn the tide, victory would be theirs.
The moment of truth where they would hurl everything they had cultivated thus far at the opponents before them.
—at least for the time being.
"Aha ha ha ha! What's the matter, Albert? Were you only fierce at the start!? Or have you finally accepted what I've been telling you—no matter how hard you try, you can never close the gap with us? It's all pointless effort!!"
"Guh—!"
His job, then, was this Nesty von Langheim.
To finally defeat this fated rival of his—that was what Albert von Yelk thought through gritted teeth.
"Come now—savor every last drop of this!"
Along with that gleeful shout, Nesty's magic—blue flames—came crashing down.
Albert responded with wind magic, but the result was the same as in their previous joint magic exercises: Albert's magic was being overwhelmed on every front.
"Ngh—"
Albert let out a short groan of pain as Nesty's hearty laughter echoed through the air.
Nesty's magic: Sacred Radiant Guardian.
A magic that wielded blue flames—flames that possessed mass, a bizarre property for fire.
Because of this, defenses with strong physical properties were burned away by the flames.
Defenses with strong magical properties—Albert's wind included—were similarly broken through by their sheer weight.
It was an extraordinarily difficult magic to defend against, and on top of that, when it hit, it would spread like an all-consuming blaze, boasting incredible penetrating power and offensive capability.
For Albert, it was the magic of despair—the one that had humiliated him in every joint magic exercise since enrollment.
"It's all futile—everything is futile! I heard from Clyde that you've been making all sorts of tearful efforts to prepare for this tournament! How touching!"
Seemingly buoyed by Albert's overwhelming disadvantage, Nesty's taunts only intensified.
"Truly hopeless. I thought you'd already learned your lesson by now! Or what—did that commoner transfer student put ideas in your head?"
With that, Nesty casually turned his gaze to the rear, pointing with a smug expression.
"But just take a look. That man, impressive as a commoner may be—see? He can't lay a finger on Lady Katia!!"
Sure enough, as his words indicated, Ermes was bravely pressing Katia with all his might, yet the ghostly soldiers' ironclad defense kept blocking every attack he threw.
Nesty glanced at that sight with eyes that looked down on something pathetic, savoring his superiority, then turned the same gaze toward Albert.
"You really are a fool. You should learn by now. No matter how hard you try, you can never overturn the gap with the chosen ones! For a fool like you—there's only one way to drill it into your body again with my magic!!"
Don't screw with me, he wanted to say.
First of all, he knew—Ermes wasn't currently demonstrating his full power. Without those restrictions, he would more than likely surpass even Katia in a fight; in fact, he had enough strength to take on every A-class student except Katia all at once.
And even setting that aside—to face Katia von Trackia head-on. A top-class magician of her generation who had single-handedly pushed B-class to the brink of crisis.
The fact that he was putting up a proper fight against her at all—that was an extraordinary feat. Could you do the same?
—but.
He wanted to say all that, but the reality was that he himself was in an overwhelming disadvantage. Being completely shut out was an undeniable fact.
"Guh—"
Nesty's magic grazed Albert's shoulder once more.
His body was already riddled with countless burns from the blue flames. Even giving a modest assessment, he was in tatters.
And finally, seeing him in that state—
"A-Albert!"
Sara, who had noticed his predicament, called out and tried to activate Star Corolla—
—but.
"Don't you dare step in, Sara!"
With the loudest shout he'd managed yet, Albert refused her help.
Facing Sara—who was trembling—he called out while parrying Nesty's magic.
"You've already got your hands full! Leave me alone and focus on covering the others!"
"But—but I—"
I can't just watch, Sara's expression said without words.
That was understandable. For the sake of winning the tournament, quietly accepting her assistance would certainly be one valid approach—but.
"Maybe it's selfish. But this—this one thing! If I had to borrow your power, I could never hold my head high!"
Albert shouted, pouring his heart into the words, recalling the exchange they'd had before.
"I want to defeat this man on my own—without that, it means nothing—!"
◆
"Please."
Before the first day of B-class's collective special training to defeat A-class.
Just as he had before, Albert bowed his head to Ermes.
"You said you would provide us with training specialized against specific A-class students. On top of that, I have one request."
After saying this, he fixed Ermes with a sharp, unwavering stare.
"I want my opponent to be that man. —Please, let me fight Nesty von Langheim…"
He bowed his head once more. Not caring in the least about noble dignity—he was following something far more important that resided within his heart.
The opponent who had planted the seeds of despair in him during the joint magic exercise right after enrollment. He needed to settle that score, no matter what.
Ermes received this plea and sank into a sea of contemplation, silent for a while. Then, at last:
"…Let me state one premise first."
He spoke carefully, choosing his words with deliberation.
"The Marquis of Langheim's son and you are, in all likelihood—extremely incompatible. By any reasonable assessment, it would be unwise to pit you against him."
"!"
"…But."
Ermes showed Albert a serious expression along with his negation, as Albert held his breath.
"To be blunt, the most troublesome student in A-class apart from Lady Katia is—that Marquis of Langheim's son. In pure ability, he ranks at the top among those other than Lady Katia, and above all… his Bloodline Magic is far too unique."
He glanced at his own palm and murmured with a slightly bitter expression.
"The rarity of 'flames that possess mass.' I've completed a certain degree of analysis, but I likely won't be able to reproduce it in time for the tournament. And Enhanced universal magic won't be enough for a pseudo-reproduction either. In other words—he is the opponent who is most difficult to simulate."
The training Ermes subsequently conducted involved pseudo-reproducing the opponents each B-class student would face based on the analysis results, conducting individualized drills.
Nesty was the one opponent for whom such pseudo-reproduction was impossible, Ermes explained.
"Therefore, anyone who faces him will have no choice but to fight a pure contest of raw ability with no prior preparation. On that front—you, Albert, are the strongest combatant in B-class among those with offensive Bloodline Magic, and you've been training under me since early on. …One could say you have the greatest chance of winning."
"!"
Albert's face shifted to show tension and excitement. Ermes looked him straight in the eye once more.
"I have designed training that will enable you to win against him. …However, it will be an extremely arduous path—one you cannot compare to anything you've experienced so far."
Because Albert had undergone his training before, he understood full well just how terrifying it would be.
Once Ermes confirmed that Albert understood, he said one final thing.
"But if you'll endure it—if you'll walk a path far more grueling than what any other B-class student faces—then in fact, I would be the one to ask you."
With that, in a complete reversal of how they'd started, it was now Ermes who adopted a pleading posture toward Albert.
"Please, for the sake of B-class's victory. …I want you to take down one of their strongest fighters."
◆
"He bowed his head to me. That man—bowed to me."
Everything Albert had done since Ermes transferred in was, by any measure, something no one could conceivably regard as friendly.
It would have been perfectly understandable to be resented, even to receive harsh retaliation in return. Yet Ermes had done none of that—he had simply looked at Albert with honest, sincere eyes.
Even when Albert changed his attitude, Ermes never once became condescending. As always, he treated him as an equal—acknowledging his strengths and offering honest counsel about his mistakes.
Without bearing any grudge or demanding any favor, whenever he needed something—as he did this time—he asked straightforwardly with no strings attached.
—How many nobles in this country were truly capable of that?
That evaluation. That bearing. That trust.
If he failed to repay it, he would surely lose something truly precious to him this time. Albert's instincts told him so.
And so—
"I must do this for my own pride—I will defeat you with my own hands!!"
Otherwise, he would never be able to overcome his past.
And he would never be able to face that man with his chest held high.
Albert declared his vow with unwavering resolve. Upon hearing it, Nesty—for the first time—showed a displeased expression on his face.
"…What is that? How ridiculous. I keep telling you—nothing you do will change anything. And besides—"
With that same displeasure, Nesty increased his magic power as he always had.
"In the end, no matter what you do, you can't beat me! Haven't the results so far made that abundantly clear?!"
To torment the overwhelmed, defensively desperate Albert. With a warped grin, Nesty unleashed his blue flames—
—but.
"That may have been true until now."
Lightly—effortlessly—almost nonchalantly.
Albert dodged the flames with movements so light they seemed almost abnormal.
"…Huh?"
"Did you think I was just taking your attacks without any strategy? The reason I held out until now was absolutely not because I couldn't do anything."
The blue flames that followed were similarly avoided—Albert slipped past them with exquisite precision, as if he knew exactly where they would strike.
Sensing that foreboding, Albert delivered his conclusion.
"I was 'analyzing' you. Taking your attacks—which even Ermes couldn't fully read—and converting them into a certain path to victory."
Whether consciously or not, his manner of speaking closely resembled the person who had changed his perspective on magic.
And then, to light the signal fire for his counterattack, Albert released the results of his training—previously sealed away—carried upon his magic power:
"…Four winds of the heavenly demon—'West Wind.'"
As Ermes had explained.
Four winds of the heavenly demon was, as the name suggested, a broad classification encompassing four types of wind magic.
First: 'South Wind.' Primarily a spell that fired wind projectiles—and up until now, this was the only one Albert had used.
The reason was simple—it was the easiest to control.
"Wind magic, in its very nature, demands extraordinarily precise magic control. Wind—that is, the flow of air—is terrifyingly complex, and to manipulate it perfectly requires an exceptional level of magic power manipulation."
But the flip side was:
If he could overcome that shortcoming, his magic would transform. It would become a spell possessing extremely high versatility and adaptability, as Ermes had said.
"What I'll have you do from now on is nothing but relentless magic power manipulation training. That's all. In the end—I want you to reach a level close to mine. Being told to accomplish that in two weeks, well—I expect you to prepare yourself for hell."
But if he could manage it—
"You will become a magician on par with A-class students. …Even that Marquis of Langheim's son will no longer be worth worrying about."
That single line was more than enough to ignite Albert's motivation to its maximum.
And so, the second of Four winds of the heavenly demon was activated: 'West Wind.'
Its effect, simple yet profound, was the manipulation of powerful gale-force winds. But its true strength lay in—the caster's own movement control.
"What—?!"
Nesty's astonishment was plain to see.
Albert, who until now had been stationary and purely on the defensive, was suddenly flying across the battlefield in every direction at blinding speed.
"I've figured out one weakness of your magic."
Ignoring Nesty's confusion, Albert spoke calmly.
"Your magic—the power itself is undeniably formidable, but—it's not fast, is it?"
"!!"
The result spoke for itself.
Because the flames couldn't hit him. With Albert maintaining his high-speed movement, Nesty's flames could no longer touch even a hair on his head.
…Of course, Albert wasn't at ease either.
It was the same principle Ermes had once used with Magic Bullet Archer. Adapting an offensive magic for the caster's own movement required an extraordinary level of control. Albert himself could not yet perform this high-speed movement with any real freedom.
That was precisely why he had waited. He let Nesty fire his magic, deciphered its properties, and used that prediction to compensate for the gaps in his control—enduring patiently until perfect evasion became possible.
The fruit of that patience was now bearing results, and in the blink of an eye, the tide was reversed. Nesty could no longer land a single hit on Albert.
"You—coward! Running away like that—how disgraceful for a noble! When you have people to protect at your back, will you show the same pathetic display? You're beneath contempt!"
…Perhaps it was a characteristic of this country's nobles that the moment they were cornered, they produced surprisingly fitting criticisms.
But Albert was unmoved. If anything, he calmly addressed the words head-on.
"…I won't deny that I once aspired to that kind of conduct. That's exactly why I was fixated on fighting head-on like I did before. But—I realized that wasn't enough."
The catalyst for that realization was that day. When he was taken along and shown magic far beyond ordinary limits.
He had seen magic that was similar to his own, yet infinitely superior—and that scene was burned into his eyes.
Recalling it, Albert spoke:
"I found something I want to catch up to. —And for that, I cannot afford to care about appearances!!"
Naturally, Albert had no intention of running away. He was calm, waiting for his opening.
It came quickly. Nesty's magic control wavered, and a gap appeared in the sea of blue flames.
In that instant, he poured everything he had into his voice and shouted:
"Four winds of the heavenly demon—'East Wind'!"
It was a spell that conjured a tornado—his third technique, made possible by the elevation of his control.
Accompanied by a tornado, merged with it as one, he surged in a straight line toward the opening.
Nesty, caught off guard, hastily deployed his blue flames as a shield. The two forces clashed at the narrowest margin.
Just a hair's breadth apart, Nesty's face twisted with frustration as he screamed:
"You—damn it! This is impossible—there's no way someone like you could surpass me!! Stay on your knees where you belong, you dropout!!"
In contrast, Albert spoke quietly:
"So that's the extent of it—the reason you think you can stop me. Then let me say the same to you: don't make me laugh."
…By any reasonable measure.
In terms of raw power, Sacred Radiant Guardian was far superior. Once this stalemate had formed, Albert shouldn't have stood a chance.
But.
"—Get out of my way. I'll say it as many times as I need to: I have no time to stand around here!"
Nesty, who had been wielding his magic to hold someone back, and Albert, who had been pushing forward with his eyes fixed on something far beyond.
The magic power, the technique, and—the feelings that each poured into this single moment of clash. The difference between them was simply too vast.
And so, the balance shattered.
"…Why…"
The tornado pierced through the flames and struck Nesty's body with devastating force.
The impact was more than enough to rob him of consciousness. Without understanding why—without even comprehending how he had been defeated—Nesty collapsed.
Albert, who had fulfilled his long-awaited goal of defeating the source of his despair, allowed himself a moment of emotion… but only that. From then on, he did not look back. He didn't spare Nesty another glance.
Because, as he had said—what lay ahead of him was far, far in the distance.
"…Time to go."
Gazing toward that distant horizon, his eyes dazzled by how far it was.
Even so, he would no longer look away. To join his classmates in their fights, Albert broke into a sprint.