Chapter 6: The RANK Match

​The Arena was once again drowned in the thunderous cheers of the student body today.

​"Flame, heed my call!"

​A bird of pure fire, conjured by a female student, spread its blazing wings wide as it swooped down toward her opponent.

​"Tch! Shield me!"

​"Ooh-ooh-ah!"

​Staring down the oncoming firebird, the opposing student hastily ordered his contracted spirit—which looked exactly like a massive gorilla—to cover him. The spirit sprang in front of its master without a second thought, crossing its thick arms to absorb the fiery bird's impact. Then, balling its fists, it lunged forward to strike at the girl who had cast the spell.

​Watching this rapid exchange of offense and defense from the spectator stands, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar, sending the Arena's excitement skyrocketing.

​"Sigh... I really don't want to do this..."

​Sitting on the waiting bench in the player's dugout, completely detached from the electric atmosphere of the match, I let out a heavy, depressing sigh, practically radiating a dark, gloomy aura.

​The duel unfolding before me was the one right before mine against Ophelia.

​Which meant that the second this match concluded, I was up next.

​The sheer dread was suffocating. If I had to compare it to something, I felt exactly like a kid waiting in line for a vaccine shot.

​Sure, I'd put together a decent game plan, but at the end of the day, all my techniques were nothing more than cheap tricks... I had to wonder if they would even scratch someone like Ophelia.

​But well, since I'd already come this far, cheap tricks or not, I just had to execute... still, the anxiety was real.

​As my mood steadily spiraled downward, the referee's booming voice announcing the victor echoed through the Arena, accompanied by another wave of cheers. It seemed the match had ended while I was lost in my self-pity.

​I barely watched any of it, but I'm sure it was a spectacular fight. So, honestly, how about we just call it a day and all go home?

​"Next match: Roak Areas versus Ophelia Ringlard. Step into the Arena!"

​My silent prayers went completely unanswered. The instructor's announcement sounded like an invitation straight to the depths of hell, and I dragged my heavy, reluctant body toward the center field.

​"You look under the weather, Roak," a voice called out.

​"Do I?" I replied.

​I glanced toward the source of the voice and saw a beautiful girl with long, shimmering golden hair flowing behind her. With her tall stature—unusual for a girl—and her commanding, resolute bearing, she was the absolute picture of high society.

​If I had to complain about one thing, though, I really wished she would stop glaring at me as if she wanted to murder me on the spot.

​I mean, sure, we were about to lock horns, so some competitive hostility was to be expected. But wasn't this a little too much bloodlust?

​"Yes. At the very least, you look incredibly pale," she muttered.

​The girl's name was Ophelia Ringlard.

​In other words, my opponent.

​"Well, your health is none of my concern... I just hope you won't use it as an excuse when you lose."

​"Don't worry about that. If anything, I'm in tip-top shape," I reassured her.

​"Hmph. Good. Today is the day I drag that contracted spirit you've been hiding out into the open."

​Leaving me with those parting words, Ophelia turned on her heel and marched toward her starting position. I followed suit, taking a deep, centering breath to quiet my racing mind.

​"......Phew."

​There was no point in overthinking things anymore. I needed to shift gears.

​The only thing left to do was fight with everything I had and take Ophelia down. If that wasn't enough, then it simply meant my best wasn't good enough.

​"Are both contestants ready?"

​Ophelia and I both nodded. I slipped my hand into my pocket, gripping my vessel as I focused my concentration.

​"......"

​"......"

​In stark contrast to the roaring heat of the expectant crowd, a cold, suffocating tension settled between us. Then, the signal to begin echoed through the Arena.

​I took a massive step forward.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​"It's started," Lily muttered.

​"Indeed," Gareth replied, nodding.

​Gareth agreed with Lily, who was sitting right beside him, his eyes locked onto Roak, who had instantly seized the initiative.

​The very instant the match-start signal rang out, Roak summoned his Sword Spirit from its vessel, caught the hilt in his palm, and closed the distance to Ophelia in a flash, unleashing a devastating diagonal slash.

​It was the exact same opening rush tactic Akari had used in her previous match.

​Yet, structurally speaking, Roak had to go through the extra steps of drawing his vessel, summoning the spirit, and establishing a contract. By all accounts, his movements should have been slower than Akari's. Instead, even with those extra steps, he closed the gap at nearly twice her speed.

​Some of the spectators genuinely believed the match was already over upon witnessing that blistering speed. It was an absolutely breathtaking opening move.

​But his opponent was a formidable powerhouse ranked in the top twenty; she wouldn't go down that easily.

​"I fully expected you to try something like that!" Ophelia declared.

​"...Well, I guess nothing is ever that easy," Roak muttered, scowling slightly.

​Roak scowled slightly, looking at the wall he had just cleaved cleanly in two.

​He had tried to end the match before she could even summon her spirit. However, Ophelia had anticipated his intent, using her Spirit Arts to raise a thick barrier of earth right in front of her.

​As a result, his slash spent its force on the earthen wall, failing to reach Ophelia behind it. And she utilized that precious window to summon her contracted spirit.

​"Arise, Dreadnought!"

​In response to Ophelia's command, a brilliant light engulfed the sky. An instant later, a massive spirit taking the form of a majestic, levitating battleship manifested in the air.

​"Man, that thing is massive..." Roak clicked his tongue.

​He stared up at the grand, imposing figure hovering before him. Displayed proudly on Dreadnought's four massive white sails was a coat of arms—an eagle-emblazoned shield, the crest of the Ringlard house—proclaiming to all exactly who its master was.

​Despite its colossal size, Dreadnought moved with unbelievable fluidity, tilting its bow and pivoting its hull sideways. Within seconds, multiple gun ports slid open along its flanks, and each cannon began to hum as they charged with spiritual power.

​The attack was coming.

​Roak immediately went to draw another vessel to summon a defensive spirit, but Ophelia—who had already leaped far back—beat him to the punch, swinging her arm down like an executioner delivering a sentence.

​"Fire."

​Obeying her brief, ruthlessly cold command, Dreadnought unleashed every single one of its cannons, all locked onto Roak.

​A deafening roar of artillery fire shook the Arena. Within seconds, Roak's position was completely swallowed by a cloud of explosive flames and billowing dirt.

​"That barrage is as terrifying as ever," Gareth remarked, pulling a face.

​"It is frightening," Lily agreed.

​Gareth grimaced slightly at the endless thunder of cannon fire and detonations. Lily, though her face remained flat and expressionless, agreed in a soft but unusually emotive tone.

​A relentless, wave-like naval bombardment. It was simple, but it was easily Dreadnought's most devastating and terrifying offensive. Originally born from a decommissioned warship possessed by lesser spirits over ages, Dreadnought suffered from none of the reload delays of human-operated vessels. Furthermore, because its ammunition was made entirely of spiritual power, it would never run out of shells as long as its contractor's reserves held.

​Because of this, during their first year, many students who had tried to charge in during an expected reload window were instantly engulfed in flames just like Roak, only to be found unconscious by the time the dust settled.

​Based on the strategies used by the few students who had managed to defeat Ophelia in the past, the main ways to counter Dreadnought were to either deploy a durable spirit capable of weathering the bombardment while retaliating, or to slip directly underneath the ship's hull where the cannons couldn't aim.

​Of course, Ophelia had learned from those past defeats. She now positioned herself directly beneath Dreadnought to defend that blind spot herself. In the end, the most orthodox strategy was simply to overwhelm her in a direct clash of spirits, but...

​"Lily, do you think Roak can win against Ophelia?" Gareth asked.

​"...I do not know," Lily replied.

​"Oh? That's a bit of an unexpected answer coming from you."

​Gareth, who had fully expected her to confidently declare Roak's victory, raised his eyebrows in surprise as he sought her reasoning.

​"What makes you say that?"

​"Because it seems Roak won't be using a contracted spirit this time either. If so, his compatibility against Ophelia is extremely poor."

​"True enough," Gareth muttered.

​Though to be precise, it's not that he won't use one, but that he literally doesn't have one, Gareth added silently to himself, nodding. In other words, Roak couldn't rely on the brute force of a durable spirit to absorb the damage.

​This meant Roak's only viable option was to somehow slip through the torrential rain of artillery fire and defeat Ophelia directly. But how on earth did he plan to pull that off?

​"...Still, that's one terrifying attack."

​Regardless of his strategy, he couldn't even begin to execute it if he couldn't survive this opening barrage.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​Dozens of devastating blasts, any one of which could prove fatal upon direct impact, rained down without pause. Without a single care for how much the terrain was being permanently disfigured, Dreadnought continued to pour an absurdly excessive amount of firepower onto a single human being.

​"Hey, is this really okay?!" a first-year student asked.

​"There's no way that senpai survived. He's dead for sure," another added.

​In a Rank Battle, killing an opponent in combat did not technically constitute a crime.

​However, that immunity only applied if the death was purely accidental. If there was clear intent to kill, the referee would issue a warning, and in extreme cases, the perpetrator would be disqualified on the spot.

​To give an example, Akari's final actions in her match had been a textbook warning offense.

​At the time, because Roak had intervened and it was her first offense, she escaped with a relatively light punishment: a stern warning from the instructors and a written apology. But depending on the circumstances, she could have easily been disqualified or even expelled.

​While the spectators had initially cheered in excitement at Dreadnought's overwhelming display, the absolute relentless storm of fire showed no signs of stopping even after several minutes. Gradually, worried whispers concerning Roak's safety began to ripple through the crowd, primarily among the first-years.

​A few even suggested that the match should be called off immediately. Yet, neither the referee nor any of the officials made a move to intervene, allowing Dreadnought's bombardment to rage on.

​"W-What?! Is he really going to be okay?!"

​Sitting in the stands, hoping to witness her senpai's brave struggle, the first-year Meilie was absolutely frantic at the one-sided carnage taking place before her eyes.

​Though they had only known each other for a short time, seeing the kind senpai who had helped her being so utterly and helplessly overwhelmed was incredibly painful to watch.

​"I'm sure Roak-senpai will be fine... probably," Leia offered, trying to comfort her.

​Leia had spoken up to reassure Meilie, but her voice trailed off into a whisper at the end, only serving to heighten their mutual anxiety.

​Through the New Student Welcome Match and their joint exploration of the ruins, Leia believed she had some grasp of Roak's true capabilities. But if asked whether those capabilities were enough to completely weather this catastrophic onslaught, she couldn't answer with any real confidence.

​In fact, seeing the senpai she had grown close to being subjected to such one-sided violence made her want to leap into the Arena and protect him. Though, realistically, she knew she would only get in his way.

​"Now things are getting interesting," Akari said, grinning.

​In stark contrast to the two anxious girls, Akari sat there laughing cheerfully, without a single shred of worry. She had just won her monumental first Rank Battle a few days prior. Granted, she had been thoroughly scolded by the instructors and her friends afterward, and was forced to write a formal apology, but she didn't seem to have learned her lesson in the slightest.

​"A-Akari-chan, aren't you worried about Roak-senpai?" Meilie asked.

​"Not even a little," Akari replied instantly.

​Akari answered Meilie's query without a moment's hesitation.

​Seeing Akari display such absolute faith, Leia knit her brows in slight irritation. Akari has spent far less time around Roak-senpai than I have. How can she speak with such total conviction?

​"Akari-san, what makes you so sure?" Leia-chan asked, her tone slightly stiff.

​"You fought him once too, Leia. Don't you get it?"

​"...Get what?"

​"That man's strength. It's completely bottomless."

​Leia fell silent at Akari's words. It was true. She had felt that exact same chilling sensation when she first faced Roak. His sheer ability to utterly overwhelm her without ever summoning a contracted spirit was terrifying... She remembered that fear vividly. But even so, could he really survive this apocalyptic storm of artillery?

​"Besides, the referee isn't showing any sign of stopping the match. And look over there," Akari said, pointing.

​Following Akari's gaze, Leia spotted Princess Misha—the royal princess and top student of their year—and a short distance away from her, Gareth, both calmly spectating the duel.

​What of it?

​"When I was about to cut down my opponent in my own Rank Battle, those two were poised to leap into the Arena even before the senseis could move. But right now, they aren't showing the slightest hint of tension."

​"......"

​"In other words, they know he's perfectly fine."

​Leia felt a sudden chill of fear at Akari's casual analysis. When she swung her katana in that split second, she was actually aware of her surroundings to that degree? The sheer breadth of Akari's situational awareness was staggering.

​At the same time, the logic was undeniable. Gareth was Roak's close friend. If Roak- was truly in mortal danger, Gareth would have been the very first to throw himself into the fray.

​As they spoke, the devastating bombardment from Dreadnought finally ground to a halt. The roaring clamor of the Arena instantly vanished, replaced by a heavy, breathless silence.

​Amidst the thick, choking screen of dust and debris, the students stared toward the impact zone, each harboring their own tense thoughts.

​Some worried if Roak was already dead.

​Others wondered if Ophelia's ruthless barrage would result in her immediate disqualification.

​And a select few watched with absolute certainty, waiting for the smoke to clear and reveal his safe standing form.

​As the dust finally settled, all eyes converged on the center of the Arena. There, standing tall amidst the ruins, Roak casually brushed the dust and grime off his school uniform and muttered quietly to Ophelia:

​"Were you trying to kill me?"

​Instantly, a massive uproar swept through the Arena once more.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​I seriously thought I was a goner!

​No, seriously, no joke. That was way too much!

​That was definitely not the kind of attack a normal student was supposed to survive. And seriously, why isn't the referee disqualifying Ophelia? Any way you look at it, she was clearly trying to murder me!

​I shot a fierce, protesting glare at the referee, but the guy just nodded to himself with a look that said, Aha, just as I thought. I'm gonna kill this referee.

​"......Were you trying to kill me?"

​I asked Ophelia in all seriousness as I brushed off the residual dust from the explosions. Glancing around, the ground everywhere except for a tiny patch directly behind me was violently hollowed out. Just imagining what would have happened if a single shell had connected made a cold shiver run down my spine.

​"Naturally, I gave it my all. I figured that against an opponent like you, a little murderous intent would be just about right... but to think you emerged completely unscathed. I must admit, I'm rather shocked."

​"Well, taking a direct hit wasn't exactly an option," I replied.

​See?! She literally just admitted her murderous intent! If I had taken even one of those, my body would have been blown to smithereens! And for the record, I am definitely not "completely unscathed."

​With several Lesser Spirits swirling around me, I gave my sword a quick test swing to check the feedback in my arms. Just as I feared, my heavily overtaxed muscles felt dull and unresponsive.

​"Bold words. You used those Lesser Spirits of wind floating around you to construct a wind barrier, did you not?"

​"Something like that," I shrugged, tapping my shoulder with the flat of my blade as I acknowledged her theory.

​During my mental simulations, I had already anticipated having to deal with Dreadnought's naval bombardment at least once. My countermeasure was to funnel my spiritual power into the Lesser Spirits to erect a barrier of wind. However, it wasn't a traditional shield meant to block the attacks head-on, but rather a deflection barrier designed to redirect the incoming shells to either side.

​If I had tried to tank that storm of artillery straight-on, my body would have been reduced to mincemeat within seconds. Deflecting them was the only way to survive.

​The execution went mostly according to plan, but the sheer duration and rate of fire completely surpassed my calculations. Halfway through, the number of shells grew too dense for the deflection barrier to handle. I was forced to slice through the shells that broke through with my sword. But seriously, that bombardment went on for way too long. It felt like I was being blasted continuously for ten whole minutes.

​Thanks to that, my arms were screaming in protest. In fact, they were trembling slightly.

​To the outside world, I looked like I had perfectly weathered Dreadnought's first wave without taking a scratch, but the reality was that I had consumed far more spiritual power than budgeted, and my arms were completely spent.

​"So... we still doing this?" I asked.

​I kept my poker face locked in, not wanting to betray any weakness that might boost her morale. Honestly, if she got intimidated and toned down her offensive, it would be a huge lifesaver for me, but—

​"Heh. Impressive. It's incredibly frustrating, but I have no choice but to recognize your skill... however," Ophelia said with a faint smirk, sweeping her arm out horizontally.

​Instantly, spiritual power surged back into Dreadnought's numerous gun ports, each one beginning to emit a brilliant, blinding light.

​Seeing this, I prepared to deploy another wind barrier, but then immediately aborted the idea.

​"It would be deeply insulting if you believed my Dreadnought's power was limited to just that," Ophelia murmured.

​The moment the words left her lips, a single cannon discharged a shell packed with an immense quantity of spiritual power. Spotting the oncoming blast, I channeled physical enhancement through my body and made a massive leap, throwing myself clear of the impact zone.

​An earth-shattering detonation shook the ground, followed by a towering pillar of fire.

​Glancing back at the spot where I had just been standing, there was now a gaping, blackened crater, as if the ground itself had been erased from existence.

​"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I muttered, my eyes widening in shock.

​The sheer, destructive force of that shot was unbelievable.

​The sheer concentration of spiritual power packed into that single shell was on an entirely different level compared to the previous barrage.

​"No time to stand around in shock!" Ophelia called out.

​"Tch!"

​I looked up at her voice, only to find dozens of heavy ropes launching from Dreadnought, snaking through the air to bind me.

​I swung my sword, deflecting the serpentine ropes as they lunged at me the second I touched the ground. But that brief distraction was all Dreadnought needed to discharge its next shell.

​"Dammit!"

​I tried to leap away immediately, but my right foot wouldn't budge. I looked down in panic and realized my foot was sunk deep into the earth. Ophelia must have cast a quick spell while I was busy dealing with the ropes. I hadn't noticed it at all.

​This is bad!

​I instantly reinforced my legs with spiritual power and yanked my foot out of the ground by sheer force, successfully breaking free. However, the momentary delay cost me dearly. The shell detonated nearby, and the resulting shockwave blasted me off my feet.

​To make matters worse, as I tumbled helplessly through the air, Dreadnought unleashed a follow-up volley of shells to finish me off. Though they weren't as devastating as the supercharged shot from earlier, they still weren't something I could safely survive.

​I conjured a gale around myself to stabilize my posture midair, simultaneously infusing my sword with spiritual power to unleash a flying slash. The crescent-shaped wave collided with the oncoming shells, erupting in a spectacular shower of sparks in the sky.

​But before I could even sigh in relief after blocking the follow-up, I spotted Ophelia pressing her hands to the ground in the distance, prepping a new Spirit Art. Judging by the massive pool of spiritual power she was gathering, she was likely gearing up for a high-tier spell.

​"Water Current Bullet!"

​Recognizing the threat, I quickly drew a vessel and established a Temporary Contract with a Lesser Water Spirit. Generating a swirling vortex of water in my palm, I launched it straight at the chanting Ophelia. The projectile, enhanced and accelerated by a blend of wind Spirit Arts, spiraled toward her with lethal force. But Ophelia was sharp; she calmly aborted her spell and instantly raised a defensive earthen wall to block the impact.

​Her tactical judgment was top-notch, even if she was my opponent. In the last Rank Battle, bad matchup luck had kept her out of the top ten, but her sheer skill undoubtedly put her on par with them.

​Taking advantage of the brief lull in her offensive, I touched down on the ground and pushed spiritual power into my legs to close the distance. But as if she had anticipated my exact timing, another barrage of cannon fire was unleashed.

​"So annoying!" I growled.

​Having my charge countered before it could even begin, I was forced back onto the defensive yet again.

​Clicking my tongue in frustration, I deflected the incoming shells with my sword. However, one of the shells exploded just a few paces in front of me, completely blinding me with thick smoke.

​A smokescreen?!

​Realizing her play, I instantly released a burst of wind to blow the smoke away. But the moment the air cleared, I found Dreadnought's massive anchor hurtling straight toward my face.

​"Guh?!"

​I frantically brought my sword up to block, but the kinetic force was overwhelming. I was sent flying backward, unable to break my fall, and tumbled awkwardly across the dirt.

​"What's the matter, Roak? You're looking unusually pathetic out there," Ophelia taunted.

​"......"

​I'm slowly being bled dry.

​I admitted to myself as I weathered the assault.

​She was perfectly demonstrating the core strength of a Spirit Master: seamless coordination with her spirit, effectively granting her two actions per turn. If I attacked, she would defend while her spirit counterattacked. If I defended, both she and her spirit would hit me with a double offensive.

​This is ridiculously unfair. Well, I suppose it's my own fault for not having a contracted spirit, but still...

​"Why don't you just summon your spirit already? If you did, you would actually stand a decent chance of winning."

​"......"

​If I could summon one, I would have done it from the very start, you idiot.

​But if I kept fighting like this, I was guaranteed to lose eventually. Which meant... it was finally time to play my trump card.

​"If you refuse to summon it, that's your choice. But in that case, you will—"

​"...Ophelia," I interrupted.

​I spoke her name, cutting her off mid-sentence.

​Ophelia, wearing a triumphant smirk, was unusually talkative today. Perhaps she was thrilled at having cornered me, or maybe she was still holding onto the hope of seeing my non-existent contracted spirit.

​Honestly, I didn't care which it was.

​"It's a bit too early to celebrate, don't you think?"

​"What are you—"

​Before a bewildered Ophelia could finish her thought, I funneled my spiritual power into the ground and activated the trap I had spent the entire match setting up.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​"An earthquake?" Leia wondered.

​Leia was the first of the three to notice the tremor. She tilted her head, wondering what was happening as the Arena seats began to rattle beneath them. Looking around, she noticed the other spectators, who had been completely absorbed in the Rank Battle, were also beginning to react to the growing vibration with anxious murmurs.

​This was clearly not normal.

​"Leia-chan, this shaking..." Meilie squeaked.

​"Yeah, it's... Wait, Akari-san?" Leia-chan blinked.

​"Hehe! Ahahaha!" Akari laughed.

​Leia had been about to reply to Meilie's worried query, but she froze in surprise upon seeing Akari, whose cheeks were flushed with excitement as she let out a wild laugh.

​She was clearly ecstatic. For Leia, who was used to seeing Akari's usual cool and detached demeanor, this was an incredibly bizarre sight.

​"This is absolutely amazing! I did not see this coming at all!" Akari squealed.

​"What do you mean by—?!"

​Leia went to ask what she meant, but stopped mid-sentence as she finally sensed it—the absurdly massive concentration of spiritual power pooling beneath the Arena floor.

​"Wh-What?!" Leia gasped.

​Before their very eyes, the ground split open with a thunderous rumble, rising up to form a colossal shadow that loomed over Leia, the other students, and the entire spectator stands.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​"What on earth..." Ophelia breathed.

​Ophelia stood completely dumbfounded before the titan of packed earth that seemed to have crawled straight out of the underworld. Its height easily dwarfed even the massive Dreadnought. On its crude, featureless face, three hollow depressions roughly indicated where eyes and a mouth should be, though they didn't seem capable of actually serving any function.

​Looking closely, its joints and limbs were incredibly misshapen, resembling a crude clay doll crafted by a child. Yet, pulsating through those joints, an astronomical amount of spiritual power surged through the titan's body like glowing blood.

​No way... Is this Roak's contracted spirit?!

​Granted, the initial visual impact is staggering, but if this crude thing is his contracted spirit, I have nothing to fear. It's no match for my Dreadnought.

​Reassured by her own analysis, Ophelia ordered Dreadnought to fire a testing volley.

​Obeying the command, spiritual power charged into Dreadnought's cannons, forming glowing shells. Locking onto the massive clay titan, the ship unleashed its payload.

​A total of five shells flew with perfect accuracy, striking the titan's head, torso, and upper arms, obliterating its earthen flesh in a series of violent explosions.

​"How fragile," Ophelia scoffed.

​The construct possessed neither a defensive barrier nor any noteworthy physical density. Watching the debris crumble to the ground, Ophelia concluded that a few more rounds would completely put the titan out of commission. She opened her mouth to order the next barrage, but suddenly froze.

​"...What?" she whispered.

​The shattered pieces of earth scattered on the ground rose into the air as if driven by a conscious will, flying back to their original positions to perfectly reconstruct the titan's body. Ophelia could only watch in stunned silence as the regeneration process completed itself in less than a minute. The earthen colossus stood proud once more, completely unscathed as if the attack had never happened.

​"This is impossible..."

​"Did I startle you?" a teasing voice called down from above.

​Ophelia's eyes widened as she looked up toward the source of the voice. Perched casually on the giant's shoulder, Roak was looking down at her with a smug grin.

​"Is this... your contracted spirit?" Ophelia demanded.

​"Not a chance," Roak replied, shaking his head.

​Then what on earth is this thing?! Ophelia's mind raced, but she was forced to abort her thoughts as the colossus began to move.

​"Oooooooh!" the giant roared.

​Letting out a low, eerie groan that reverberated throughout the Arena, the titan raised its misshapen, massive arm and slammed its fist straight down toward Dreadnought.

​Ophelia hastily erected an earthen defensive barrier, but the giant's fist—infused with a ridiculous amount of spiritual power—smashed through her defense like wet tissue paper, striking Dreadnought's deck directly.

​The heavy blow landed with a loud crack, splintering a portion of Dreadnought's deck, though it wasn't quite enough to break completely through the hull.

​"Guh!" Ophelia groaned.

​"Man, you're tough," Roak muttered, whistling.

​He was genuinely impressed by Dreadnought's robust defense.

​He had intended to sink the ship with that single strike, but a high-tier spirit was a high-tier spirit for a reason. Ophelia wasn't an opponent he could take down so easily.

​"Don't get cocky!" Ophelia shrieked.

​Dreadnought deployed its ropes, binding the titan's arm that had struck its deck, and violently pivoted its hull to hurl the colossus across the Arena.

​"Whoa!" Roak gasped.

​As the giant lost its balance and crashed to the ground, Roak leaped off its shoulder, landing gracefully on the dirt. He immediately locked eyes with Ophelia, who was glaring at him with pure hatred.

​The calm, relaxed look in his eyes rubbed her completely the wrong way.

​"What is that giant, Roak?!" she spat.

​"What do you think it is?"

​"Tch!!"

​Furious at his evasive, mocking tone, Ophelia let her anger take the wheel and ordered Dreadnought to attack.

​With a series of thunderous booms, Dreadnought unleashed another devastating bombardment upon the defenseless, grounded titan. Within moments, the giant was completely swallowed by explosive fire, its clay body being blasted to smithereens.

​After several minutes of sustained, heavy shelling, the titan was reduced to a miserable heap of scattered, shattered rubble.

​"Haa... haa..." Ophelia panted.

​"......"

​Ophelia was completely out of breath, yet she wore a satisfied smirk as she gazed upon the ruined colossus.

​Roak, on the other hand, showed no signs of panic at the destruction of his creation. He simply stood there, quietly observing his opponent.

​"That giant of yours might have regenerative abilities... but now that it's been pulverized to this extent... there's... no... way..." Ophelia stammered.

​"There's no way what?" Roak prompted.

​Believing she had inflicted enough damage to unsummon even a high-tier spirit, Ophelia's smirk began to widen... only to completely freeze on her face. Around the shattered pieces of the titan's body, the rubble was already gathering, beginning to reconstruct itself once more.

​"There's no way... what, exactly?" Roak asked softly, quietly raising his sword.

＊＊＊＊＊

"An aggregation of an earth spirit and Lesser Spirits—that is the giant's true identity," Lily explained.

​"I see, so that's how it works. It's a much simpler structure than I expected," Gareth replied.

​Watching the giant repeatedly collapse and regenerate, Lily had finally seen through its true form.

​The giant, which seemed completely unfazed and regenerated no matter how many attacks it took, was in truth nothing more than a hollow show. It was a mere cluster of dirt and rocks gathered around an earth spirit core, held together by Lesser Spirits.

​No matter how many times it was shattered, the Lesser Spirits would simply gather the fragments and reassemble them around the earth spirit, making it appear as though the giant was regenerating. That was the secret behind the seemingly immortal titan.

​"Even so, it's quite a spectacle," Gareth remarked.

​Two massive silhouettes were running amok in the Arena.

​The earthen colossus drew back its arm and slammed its fist into the side of the giant vessel before it. A heavy, low-pitched boom echoed through the air, violently shaking the ship's hull. Yet, the battleship-type spirit, Dreadnought, didn't flinch in the slightest. It immediately retaliated, unleashing a volley of cannon fire upon the giant.

​In an instant, the colossus's earthen body was blasted to pieces, but it pressed on regardless, swinging its mangled arms to strike back. The impact shook the ship once more, throwing off the aim of its gun ports and causing the fired shells to fly off in random directions.

​In the brief gap between the cannon fire, the Lesser Spirits that had scattered alongside the shattered fragments coated themselves in earth once again. They swarmed back toward the giant, where their core, the earth spirit, resided.

​"Oooooooh!" the giant roared.

​As the giant's crumbling limbs took shape once more, it let out a thunderous roar and lunged at the recovering Dreadnought. Locked in a battle of attrition, neither the colossal vessel nor the aggregate giant could land a decisive blow. The fight had ground to a complete stalemate, taking up the entirety of the spacious Arena.

​"With this, Ophelia has been cut off from her spirit," Lily pointed out matter-of-factly.

​Though her tone remained flat, her mind was filled with astonishment.

​When Roak had asked her for a counterstrategy in the library, she had given him her thoughts, but she had never truly expected him to suppress Dreadnought without ever summoning his own contracted spirit.

​"Still, to think he actually came up with a strategy like this," Gareth mused.

​"Even if someone thought of it, they couldn't execute it. Maintaining a giant of that scale should be consuming an astronomical amount of Spiritual Power..." Lily countered.

​Supplying enough Spiritual Power to regenerate the giant's body the moment it was destroyed—if an ordinary Spirit Master tried to pull that off, they wouldn't last five minutes. The only reason that colossus could remain active was Roak's absurd pool of Spiritual Power and his masterful technique.

​In the first place, rather than using such a giant, it would be infinitely more efficient to just summon a contracted spirit to handle the opponent. Yet, Roak stubbornly refused to call upon his contracted spirit, choosing to execute this highly inefficient fighting style without a moment's hesitation. But in doing so, he had completely caught his opponent off guard, turning the tables on her.

​Once again, one couldn't help but view Roak as an absolute anomaly among Spirit Masters.

​"Which means he needs to completely defeat Ophelia before his Spiritual Power runs dry," Gareth observed.

​"While the situation has certainly turned in Roak's favor, defeating Ophelia while maintaining that giant is still going to be incredibly difficult..." Lily murmured.

​He might have neutralized Dreadnought, the most troublesome element, but Ophelia's individual strength still stood head and shoulders above most other Spirit Masters. No matter how skilled Roak was, defeating her while his Spiritual Power was constantly being drained should be an uphill battle.

​"No, this match is already decided. Roak has won," Gareth predicted, dispelling Lily's concerns.

​When Lily glanced at Gareth's face, she saw an expression of absolute, unwavering confidence. He had no doubt whatsoever that Roak would win.

​"What's your basis?" Lily asked.

​"Who do you think taught him the basics of the sword? Me," Gareth murmured with a confident smile, resting his hand on the hilt of the magic sword at his waist. "I hate to say it, but the moment she let him close the distance into his striking range, her chances of winning evaporated."

​＊＊＊＊＊

​Roak unleashed a slash; Ophelia dodged. Roak fired a Spirit Art; Ophelia blocked it with a defensive spell of her own. Roak unleashed another slash; Ophelia blocked it with a barrier.

​The tide of battle had completely shifted. Faced with Roak's relentless, storm-like offensive, Ophelia was forced entirely onto the defensive.

​Hoping to force some distance between them, she raised an earthen wall to block his path, only for a flurry of sword slashes to reduce it to absolute dust. As the debris rained down, Roak emerged from the cloud of dust, his sword already in motion. Ophelia's face contorted in frustration.

​"Curse you!" she shrieked.

​She slammed her hands onto the ground, causing stone spears to erupt all around Roak. They thrust toward him in unison, but with a slight, almost imperceptible blur of Roak's sword arm, the tips of every single spear were sliced clean off, instantly robbing them of their lethal force.

​Infuriated, Ophelia immediately tried to prepare her next Spirit Art, but Roak beat her to the draw, unleashing a flying wave of energy from his blade.

​"Tch?!" she gasped.

​She threw herself to the side, barely evading the slash, but the edge grazed her shoulder, sending a spray of fresh blood into the air.

​It was her very first wound in this battle. Though it was merely a shallow cut on her pale skin, it was the exact moment Ophelia realized with absolute clarity that she had been backed into a corner.

​"Kagetsu," Roak muttered.

​Suddenly, a crimson Lesser Spirit flared to life beside him, and his vision flashed red. With his next swing, his blade erupted in brilliant flames as it swept toward her.

​Still off-balance, Ophelia desperately raised another earthen wall to absorb the blazing strike.

​A wave of intense heat washed past her on both sides, singeing her skin. Grimacing at the dry, burning sensation, she dispelled the wall, only for Roak and his swirling entourage of Lesser Spirits to fill her vision.

​"You look like you're struggling, Ophelia," Roak noted.

​"......!" she grimaced silently.

​"Is your Spiritual Power finally running dry?" Roak asked.

​Ophelia didn't answer. However, her silence spoke volumes, serving as a tacit admission that his words were entirely correct.

​It was only natural when one thought about it. Dreadnought had notoriously terrible energy efficiency compared to other spirits, draining a massive amount of Spiritual Power simply by remaining summoned. On top of that, she had unleashed that massive opening barrage and had been firing continuously ever since. She had long since crossed the threshold of what her own reserves and Dreadnought's could naturally sustain.

​Confirming this, Ophelia was heavily out of breath despite not having cast many high-level spells recently. In reality, if she had poured all her energy into a massive bombardment like the one she had unleashed at the beginning of the match, she could have pulverized the giant before it could even regenerate.

​The only reason she hadn't done so was because her spiritual reserves were already depleted.

​Having finally secured a decisive advantage, Roak did his absolute best to mask the immense fatigue of controlling the giant. Maintaining an air of complete composure, he pointed the tip of his sword at the kneeling Ophelia.

​"That was a close one, but this is the end. Surrender quietly," he declared.

​"Don't you dare look down on me, Roak Areas!" Ophelia screamed.

​Furious at his triumphant tone, she channeled her boiling rage into a final surge of energy, forcing herself to her feet as she activated her magic.

​"Uh-oh," Roak muttered under his breath.

​He had hoped to break her fighting spirit, but it seemed he had only provoked her into a desperate, final stand.

​Three massive stone pillars materialized around her, packed with every last drop of her remaining spiritual power. Each pillar hummed with terrifying force, their spiral-carved tips pointed directly at him. Taking a direct hit from even one of them would be catastrophic, if not outright fatal.

​I have to crush her before she can launch them. Deciding to strike first, Roak went to unleash a slash, only to find his arm refusing to move.

​"What?!" he gasped in alarm.

​He glanced down and saw a thick rope tightly coiled around his arm. Tracing the rope back to its source, he found, sure enough, Dreadnought—which was still being brutally pummeled by his earthen giant.

​He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy toward her contracted spirit, which was still providing flawless support to its master even while taking a beating. In a flash, he sliced through the rope with his sword, but the delay was fatal. Ophelia had already unleashed her final spell.

​"Impale him!" she roared.

​Three stone pillars shot toward him at blistering speeds, carrying the entirety of her remaining strength. It was already far too late to dodge.

​He had no choice but to brace himself and deflect them all.

​"Bring it on!" Roak roared, pumping himself up as he raised his sword to meet the oncoming projectiles.

​The first pillar came spinning toward him. Channeling every ounce of spiritual power he could muster into his blade, he swung upward from a low stance. With a high-pitched screech and a shower of sparks, he managed to deflect its trajectory.

​But the second pillar was already upon him. Planting his feet, he brought his sword down to strike its tip. A numbing shockwave surged through his blade and up his arms. Already exhausted from his struggle against Dreadnought, his hands lost their grip, and his sword was sent flying high into the air.

​Though he had somehow managed to deflect the second pillar, the third and final stone projectile was already closing in on him.

​He didn't hesitate. In a fraction of a second, Roak steeled his resolve, reinforcing his bare arm with the absolute maximum amount of spiritual power before thrusting his palm directly into the path of the oncoming pillar.

​"Aaaaaaaagh!" Roak roared.

​Squelch! The flying stone pillar pierced straight through his palm, tearing through flesh and spraying blood. Gritting his teeth through the agonizing pain by sheer force of will, he clamped his fingers around the impaled stone.

​Even as he gripped it, the spinning motion of the pillar caused him hellish agony, but Roak refused to let go. He physically wrenched it off course, spinning his body to bleed off the projectile's kinetic momentum.

​"What?!" Ophelia gasped.

​Ophelia, who had been absolutely certain of her victory the moment his sword was flung away, stared in dumbfounded horror at the boy who had stopped her final attack at the cost of his own hand.

​In that split second, faced with such a dire situation, Roak had chosen to sacrifice an arm to minimize the overall damage and survive. His instantaneous judgment and resolve transcended mere shock, instilling a deep, primal terror in her chest.

​Roak, who was not about to let such a massive opening slide, violently tore the stone pillar out of his hand. Reaching out with his uninjured arm, he caught his falling sword out of the air and closed the distance to Ophelia in an instant.

​"Can we finally call it a day?" Roak asked, his blade poised right before her face.

​"......Yes. I concede. It is my loss," Ophelia sighed slowly, raising both hands as she finally accepted her defeat.

​The moment the referee confirmed her surrender and officially announced the victor, a deafening roar of cheers erupted from the student body, echoing throughout the Arena.

​Roak's first match of his second-year Rank Battles concluded with his victory.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​"See? I told you Roak would win," Gareth gloated.

​"You were correct," Lily agreed, nodding to her smug friend.

​Just as Gareth had predicted, once Roak closed the gap into his striking range, there had been a few tense moments, but he had held the upper hand for the entire duration of the close-quarters exchange.

​It wasn't that Ophelia was weak. Rather, when it came to pure melee combat, Roak was simply the superior fighter.

​"Still, shouldn't that idiot go get his hand treated?" Gareth muttered, looking down.

​"Does it not hurt?" Lily wondered.

​"No, it definitely hurts. Like hell, probably," Gareth replied.

​Down below, Ophelia and Roak were engaged in conversation. Though Roak's expression seemed perfectly normal on the surface, there was no way having his palm skewered didn't hurt. No matter how much one reinforced their body with Spiritual Power, the physical sensation of pain remained unchanged. If it were me, I'd be sprinting to the infirmary right about now...

​"Gareth-kun, let's go to Roak," Lily suggested.

​"Yeah, good idea. Let's go," Gareth agreed, shaking off his thoughts as he stood up to leave the stands with her.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​"......"

​Having watched the Rank Battle to its conclusion, Leia silently replayed Roak's combat in her mind. The massive colossus, the sheer volume of Spiritual Power required to maintain it, and his extraordinary swordsmanship.

​She had suspected as much ever since they went out for crepes together, but once again, he had secured a flawless victory without ever summoning his contracted spirit.

​"Roak-senpai is amazing, isn't he?!" Meilie gushed.

​"Yes, he really is," Leia agreed, nodding.

​Just as Meilie said, she was genuinely in awe of his performance.

​Ophelia Ringlard was an exceptionally powerful Spirit Master, likely stronger than Leia herself. Yet, even she had failed to force Roak to reveal his hidden contracted spirit.

​"But next time we fight, I'm going to push you to the point where you have no choice but to summon your contracted spirit. So you'd better be ready."

​Her declaration from before echoed in her mind. She had meant every word of it. But still... but still...

​"......"

​"Man, that was awesome. I want to fight him already..." Akari grinned beside her, looking thoroughly thrilled.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​"Let's go, Sena," Misha instructed.

​"Yes, Misha-sama," Sena Tiedor, the Student Council Secretary, replied, standing up to follow her as they left the spectator stands.

​The surrounding students were still deep in excited discussion about the duel, their fervor showing no signs of cooling down. In contrast, Misha maintained her usual calm, collected expression as she walked down the corridor.

​"Excuse me, could you let us through?" Sena requested.

​"Ah! Misha-sama! Our apologies! We'll move right away!"

​"We are deeply sorry!"

​The students blocking the path hurriedly scrambled out of the way, watching Misha's retreating figure as she walked past.

​"Hey, did Misha-sama seem kind of displeased?" one student whispered.

​"Well, can you blame her? She probably thought Areas would finally show his contracted spirit today, so she's probably irritated that he didn't."

​"Ah, makes sense. To us, that match was mind-blowing, but to Misha-sama—who's already beaten Areas once—an opponent who refuses to summon his contracted spirit probably isn't worth her time."

​As they walked, the hushed, gossiping voices of the passing students reached Sena's ears.

​I see. It makes sense that they would misunderstand her like that.

​But as the Student Council Secretary who served directly under her, Sena knew better. She noticed the slight spring in Misha's step, the subtle, cheerful lilt in her voice, and the quiet excitement she was desperately trying to keep hidden beneath her calm exterior.

​"Sena," Misha called out, turning around as they exited the arena.

​A radiant smile that could captivate even members of her own sex played upon her lips.

​"He really is fascinating. I'm certain this year's Great Spirit Martial Arts Festival will be a highly entertaining affair."

​Memories of her own Rank Battle against him flashed in her mind. Roak Areas, the boy who had barely parried her Angel's strike and had actually managed to land a clean blow on her.

​Today's match was magnificent, allowing her to catch a brilliant glimpse of his dazzling radiance, just like during their own duel. If anything, he might have shone even brighter today. While it was indeed a shame she didn't get to see his contracted spirit, the match had been more than worth watching.

​"I can't wait," Misha giggled, laughing from the bottom of her heart as she looked forward to the upcoming festival.

​＊＊＊＊＊

​My hand hurts. It hurts so freaking bad.

​"Magnificent. To think you could utilize Lesser Spirits in such a manner," Ophelia praised.

​"Oh, please. It was nothing more than a cheap parlor trick," I replied.

​An agonizing pain had been throbbing through my hand for a while now. It hurt so much I wanted to scream.

​"You say that, yet you managed to completely suppress my Dreadnought. I was utterly outplayed," she sighed.

​"Haha... But seriously, if you had just poured everything into that relentless bombardment from the very start, that crude giant would have been obliterated in an instant," I laughed weakly.

​Please, let me go to the infirmary. I need painkillers right now... No, I need immediate medical attention.

​"Ah, I see. So you intentionally took that opening barrage to force me to waste my Spiritual Power? You really are as analytical and calculating as they say," Ophelia noted, nodding.

​"Hahaha..." I let out a dry laugh, cold sweat dripping down my forehead.

​Can I go now? Are we done talking?

​"Come to think of it, there was one last thing I wanted to ask."

​"Does it have to be right this second?" I groaned.

​I knew it was my fault for acting so calm, but I literally had a hole in my hand right now. If possible, I wanted to sprint to the infirmary this very instant.

​"If possible, I'd like to clear it up now. Is that a problem?"

​"Sure, what is it?"

​Instead of declining, my stupid people-pleaser reflexes kicked in, and I forced a smile. I am way too nice of a guy, seriously!

​"From what I saw, there must have been dozens of Lesser Spirits embedded in that giant. There's no way I would have missed that many spirits. When did you plant them in the ground?"

​"While I was taking your bombardment. Under that massive storm of high-density spiritual projectiles, planting them without you noticing was a piece of cake," I explained.

​There. I answered. We're good, right? I'm leaving. I'm leaving now.

​"...I see. A total defeat. I thought you were looking down on me by refusing to summon your spirit, but it seems I was the one looking down on you all along."

​She wore a refreshing, satisfied smile as she came to her own conclusion.

​Assuming that was finally the end of it, I turned to leave, but Ophelia reached her hand out, stopping me once more. What now, seriously?!

​"Congratulations. I won't lose next time," she said.

​"...Heh," I grunted, letting out a breath to cope with the pain as I shook her hand.

​At that moment, Ophelia finally noticed the blood dripping from my palm. About time!

​"My apologies for holding you up. It is rather rich coming from the one who caused it, but you should head to the infirmary immediately," she urged.

​"Yeah, will do. Well then, excuse me," I said, turning on my heel.

​To be honest, I wanted to book it to the infirmary, but running after acting so tough would ruin the cool facade I had worked so hard to maintain.

​I maintained a dignified, slow walk as if I felt absolutely no pain, heading toward the Arena exit.

​Hang in there, self! Just endure it! Once I get out of the Arena, I can sprint at full speed. So for now, just bear with it! Just endure!

​"Splendid work, Areas-kun! I'd heard the rumors, but to think you really wouldn't summon your contracted spirit!!" the referee called out.

​"Hahaha..." I laughed hollowly.

​Right before the finish line, I got cornered by the referee instructor.

​Goddammit.

ToC

Epub is available in the ToC!