"That’s it! Winner, Lucas!"
No sooner had I made the call than a roar of cheers went up from the spectator stands.
The matches between instructors were moving along without a hitch, and the third round had ended in a victory for our very own Lucas. Winning or losing didn't actually amount to much in these demonstrations, but you can’t help but be happy when one of your own comes out on top.
Though, as the referee, I made sure to stay impartial.
"Alright, it’s time for the lesson. You two, give them the breakdown. Lucas, you start."
"Got it. As you heard during the introductions, my weapon of choice is the hammer. People say they’re clunky and hard to maneuver, but as you just saw, you can more than make up for that with enough strength and training. More importantly, if you land a solid hit, the sheer destructive force is unmatched."
"He practically knocked me off my feet, shield and all," the opposing swordsman added with a weary chuckle. He’d been fighting skillfully, using a single-handed wooden sword and a shield, but his situation had taken a sharp turn for the worse the moment he tried to intercept Lucas’s hammer head-on.
Even though we just call them 'shields,' they come in all shapes and sizes. A light, one-handed shield like the one he was carrying isn't meant for stopping an attack dead in its tracks. It’s designed for deflecting and parrying.
Having failed to do that, the shield he’d used to block the blow was visibly dented, and he didn't seem to have much strength left in his left hand.
The two finished their explanation of the weapons' traits while reflecting on the match. As they swapped out for the next pair, I pulled the swordsman aside.
"Carmine, how’s the hand? Any real damage?"
"Tingling like crazy, but it doesn't hurt. I’ll live."
Hammers are defined by weight and power. That was why, unlike the other participants, I’d had Lucas and Carmine use the actual equipment they normally carry for their match.
"If you say so, but don't push it. Head over to Ryoma’s spot just in case. He can have his slime cast Healing Magic on you."
Ryoma had told me just before the first match that he’d brought a Heal Slime along. He’d mentioned leaving the medical work to the slime so he could save his own mana for his match; even now, the creature was perched right on top of his head.
"By the way, he said the treatment is free for the duration of the camp."
"Well, that’s a relief. Maybe I should have him give me a full check-up while I’m at it... though the idea of him finding some hidden disease is a bit terrifying."
"Hey, if you’re sick, better to find out now."
Besides, Healing Magic only fixes injuries. And 'hidden disease'? What kind of life has this guy been living to be that worried?
"Roche! We’re all set!"
"Right, coming!"
The next match was ready to go.
"See you. Go get that hand looked at."
I left Carmine and returned to my duties.
"Next up... Lucy the mage versus Bosco of the Twin Swords! Fourth match, begin!"
The cheers rose once more, but they didn't last long.
"Whoa—o-oh?! Gaaaaah!"
A guttural shout cut through the cheering, bringing the students to a dead silence.
The source was Bosco. He was floundering, sinking into the earth, having already lost his grip on his swords as he struggled to pull himself free.
There was no way he was doing that on purpose.
When I looked over at his opponent, Lucy, she was—as expected—staring back at me with a perfectly serene, 'who, me?' expression.
"Er... that’s enough. The winner is Lucy!"
I made the declaration, but no cheers followed. Instead, a wave of confusion rippled through the ranks of students who had no idea what had just happened.
First, I needed to get Bosco out... well, a few people were already moving to haul him up, so I let them be. He didn't look hurt, and Ryoma could probably deal with the mud on his clothes later.
Between the medical support and the general utility, that kid really was a lifesaver behind the scenes. He was efficient, and having someone like that around made my job a hell of a lot easier.
"Lucy, explain."
"Yes, yes. Listen up! Now, I assume you all realize I’m the one responsible for this?"
I’d already declared her the winner, so the students all nodded in unison.
"I am a 'mage.' Naturally, I used magic to achieve this result. Does anyone want to guess what kind of spell I used?"
"Earth Magic!"
"It was Water Magic, obviously!"
"But he’s buried up to his neck! It has to be Earth Magic."
"Look at the ground! She used Water Magic to turn it into a bog!"
The kids were split between Earth and Water. They weren't exactly wrong, but they weren't quite right either.
"Is it a composite spell, combining both Earth and Water?"
The voice came from the crowd. I blinked—it was Ryoma. He’d managed to slip in among the students without anyone noticing.
"Full marks, Ryoma-kun! It’s a bit of an advanced technique, but magic isn't limited to a single attribute; you can actually weave multiple elements together. We call that 'composite magic.' It’s tricky to pull off, but it massively expands what you can do. For example, I used a mix of Earth and Water, often referred to as 'Mud Magic.' There’s no actual 'mud' attribute, so that’s just a nickname, but as you can see, it turns solid ground into a mire—practically a bottomless bog."
"She prepped the area before the match even started," I added, "then dropped Bosco into the swamp the second I gave the word."
Bosco relied on his speed to fight. He wasn't weak by any stretch, but his greatest strength had been completely neutralized by the mud.
"Concentration is vital for casting, which makes mages vulnerable right before they fire. That’s why those of you aiming to be mages need to prioritize keeping your distance. The basic rule is to never let the enemy get close. Learning some close-quarters combat for emergencies isn't a bad idea, either."
Her advice was sound. Still, I wished she’d been a bit less ruthless. Of all the instructors, she’d chosen to annihilate the youngest guy on the team with such an utter lack of mercy. Poor Bosco looked absolutely miserable back there.
Well, it was a lesson for him, too. I’d have to buy him a drink later to cheer him up.
Now, that left only the final match.
As Lucy and Bosco stepped back, Ryoma and Howard took the stage.
"Ready?"
"I’m good to go. You, Ryoma?"
"Ready when you are."
Howard was wielding a mock spear—basically a carved branch with the tip wrapped in cloth. Ryoma held a bow in one hand and carried a large quiver over his shoulder.
"What have you got in there?" I asked, eyeing the arrows.
"I’ve swapped them out for Jintouya."
Jintouya?
He pulled one out to show me. The heads had been swapped for blunt weights that looked like heavy plungers.
"So that’s what you call those in your neck of the woods?"
"Yes. They might not be very common here. Usually, they're carved from wood, but since I had to make these on short notice, I fashioned them with Earth Magic."
"As long as they don't pierce anything, that's fine by me. Good luck, Ryoma," Howard said.
"Likewise, Howard-san."
Despite the impending fight, the air between them was relaxed. I expected that from Howard, but Ryoma didn't seem the least bit nervous either.
"I used to perform demonstrations back home for the New Year until a few years ago," Ryoma explained. "It’s a bit embarrassing, but I didn't really have any other party tricks for those occasions. Also, I met some sword dancers at the Founding Festival this year and they let me perform on stage with them."
"I see."
"Ah, but I don't have much experience with actual duels... whenever I performed for a crowd, my targets were always inanimate objects."
"Performing for a crowd is half the battle anyway," Howard laughed. "Don't sweat it and just shoot to your heart's content!"
"Yes, sir!"
With a spirited reply, Ryoma ran to his starting position. To make the bow's advantages clear, we’d decided to start them a good twenty meters apart.
"Well, I’m off," Howard said, moving toward his side.
"Good luck. ...Howard."
"Hmm? Something wrong?"
"Don't get sloppy. Word is the kid’s actually a monster."
Howard’s expression tightened ever so slightly. He usually looked like a grinning idiot, but he was a man who knew how to flip the switch when it mattered. Behind that casual smile, his focus was razor-sharp.
"Are you ready?!" I shouted, checking both sides one last time.
"Ready whenever!"
"Ready over here!"
Then let’s do this.
"Fifth match!"
I threw my whole spirit into the shout, acting as the referee.
"Begin—?!"
The world changed.
Suddenly. Irrevocably.
The air in the arena turned heavy—so oppressive it felt as if it might crush the life out of me. It was a sensation I felt less in my mind and more through my very skin and bones.