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Chapter 42: The Problem Children

Seron let out a wail, and I looked at her with a pitiful expression.

"Seron, Seron. What kind of manners is that in front of Grantoni?"

"Argh! I'm more curious about your brain, which thought bringing this skeleton head would actually help!"

"I’m not sure, but it’s probably bigger than yours, Seron."

"Pfft! Hahaha!"

As Seron and I bickered, Card wiped away tears, bursting into laughter.

"Alright, alright. Seron, calm down. There must be a reason why Wangnon brought this miniature ossuary along, right?"

When Card soothed Seron, she huffed and pointed at Grantoni.

"And why is he the healer, of all people?"

Healers were traditionally chosen from the Divine Arts students.

Seron couldn’t wrap her head around why Grantoni was assigned the role of healer.

"Honestly, I don’t see what’s so strange about it."

"He's not healing people; he’s killing them!"

That was a prejudiced view typical of soul conjurers.

I pointed to Grantoni’s skull.

"Then let me ask you this. Among the Divine Arts students, is there anyone who can survive with nothing but a skull for a head, like Grantoni?"

Seron opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words.

"...We don’t usually call that living, though."

"Fair enough."

Even Card found that amusing.

These ignoramuses.

"Grantoni is a soul conjurer skilled in necromancy. He understands how the body is constructed, can mend broken bones, and even restore flesh."

Of course, unlike Divine Arts, his methods might cause pain.

Nonetheless, a soul conjurer can step in when a Divine Arts student fails to heal.

Divine magic and black magic are opposites.

Yet, they share similarities in their dealings with living bodies.

"Besides, I consulted Professor Vega, and she approved."

Without the professor's permission, I wouldn’t have been able to bring him along.

Hearing this, Seron hesitated.

But she wasn’t finished complaining yet.

"The bigger problem is whether that skeleton will actually cooperate."

In team matches, teamwork is part of the score.

Grantoni had a reputation for causing trouble in the past.

Students didn’t nickname him "the little ossuary" for nothing.

"We’re treated almost the same way, aren’t we?"

To the other students, there wasn’t much difference between Grantoni and us.

The Neat Freak, Card.

The Bulldog, Seron.

And me, the Bastard.

Somehow, all of us had earned nicknames.

Now that I think about it, isn’t mine the worst?

Maybe because I was Isabell's rival—the student everyone at Zerion Academy admired and adored.

My nickname was particularly harsh.

Still, fewer people insult me to my face these days.

Even the dumbest students can see that challenging me doesn’t end well, thanks to the reputation I’ve built.

"Anyway, there wasn’t a Divine Arts student who’d join our team. We should be thankful Grantoni agreed to join us."

"Heh. I was going to get disqualified anyway, so this works for me."

In team matches, anyone without a team is automatically disqualified and given the lowest score.

So Grantoni had nothing to lose by joining us.

"If we do well, we’ll get more resources, right? That means I can stay longer in the underworld."

Grantoni clattered his teeth and let out an eerie laugh.

Seron still looked like she wanted to argue but eventually sighed and fell silent.

She realized it wouldn’t do any good to keep complaining.

"If our grades drop because of him, I’m coming for you, Princess Sweet Potato."

The nerve.

Who’s she calling what?

"Uh-oh, isn’t that bad?"

"What should we do?"

Suddenly, sighs echoed from all around us.

I looked up to see someone being carried off on a stretcher.

My body moved before I could think.

It was Nikita.

She must’ve gotten injured during the team match.

Clench.

The person holding onto my sleeve was Sharin, who had been dozing behind me.

She looked at me through half-open eyes.

"We’re in the middle of an exam too. You can go later."

Sharin was right.

Following Nikita now wouldn’t change anything.

"The vice president, right?"

"Hmm. She’s from the Cynthia family, so I had some hopes for her."

"They say this is the weakest generation. Losing Nia Cynthia must’ve been devastating for their family."

"I heard Nia Cynthia’s body still hasn’t been found."

The murmurs from the spectators grew louder.

Despite Nikita being carried off, the team match continued.

The third-year students fought desperately but failed to captivate the audience.

Their lack of enthusiasm only grew as the match dragged on.

By the end, not a single clap was heard.

The third years left the stage, drained and defeated.

"Next up, the second-year team match will begin!"

"Oh, finally."

"The Golden Flame Generation. This should be good."

"Now this’ll be worth watching."

The atmosphere shifted when the magic professor announced the start of the second-year matches.

For the third years, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

But they couldn’t deny the truth.

Their talent was no match for the second years.

"First team, Team Iris."

The professor called the team name, and the group stepped forward.

Match order was determined by the team’s average score.

The highest-scoring team always went first.

"In a competitive setup, it’s better to set the bar high early. That way, the others will push harder to beat it."

It was a psychological strategy.

Being first carried the burden of high expectations, but with their scores, Team Iris could handle it.

"Let’s go."

Iris Hysirion strode forward with her black hair flowing and her ruby-like eyes gleaming.

The rest of her team followed, all of them second-year elites.

There wasn’t a trace of fear in their expressions—only confidence that they’d take first place.

"That’s Princess Iris."

"Impressive."

"The strongest royal in history, isn’t she?"

Even the spectators were abuzz.

The top martial arts student.

The strongest royal in history.

She might carry the nickname "the last villainess," but no one could deny her strength.

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Team Iris stepped onto the arena where the group competition would take place.

Then, smoke rose, and the arena's form began to change.

A hemispherical dome surrounded the arena.

From inside the dome, the outside was completely obscured.

The design was meant to ensure competitors could focus without being distracted by external gazes.

Soon, thick, white smoke spread across the area.

Boom!

Through an illusion spell, a formidable apostle appeared.

It was a colossal being in the form of a bull.

“Grooooar!”

As soon as it appeared, the apostle pounded its chest and let out a thunderous roar.

Slash!

In the next moment, its head was severed.

A clean, one-shot kill.

Everyone who witnessed the scene held their breath.

Before anyone realized it, Iris was already standing behind the fallen apostle.

Most of the people there hadn’t even seen her move.

Her crimson eyes glowed quietly through the smoke.

Her gaze resembled a red rose blooming in the darkness.

"Unstoppable,"

Card muttered, a sentiment everyone agreed with.

Team Iris continued with a streak of flawless victories.

The overwhelming display was enough to crush the fighting spirit of anyone watching.

It was as if team Iris were sending a message to the second-years:

‘Forget about first place. It's ours.’

However, as the match entered its later stages, even team Iris began to slow down.

The apostles that appeared in the later rounds were formidable, even for them.

Still, considering how few third-years had even made it this far, reaching the final stages already confirmed them as one of the top contenders.

Thud!

Eventually, team Iris defeated the final apostle registered in the illusion spell.

"31 minutes and 21 seconds."

That was the time it took for team Iris to defeat all ten apostles.

Since the final apostle alone had taken just over ten minutes,

this meant they had defeated the first nine apostles in under twenty minutes.

"Good work. Congratulations on being the first to clear it."

Professor Vega, dressed unusually sharply in a clean suit, praised team Iris.

Iris thanked her with a confident smile and turned to leave.

Unlike her teammates, she didn’t show the slightest sign of exhaustion.

As she walked, her gaze briefly met mine.

Iris glanced at me sharply before walking past.

‘Still a monster.’

At least within Zerion Academy, there was no one who could defeat her.

“Next, the Hannon team.”

And the next name called was ours.

“W-We’re up? Why?”

Seron looked flustered.

But, of course, there was an obvious reason why we were the second team.

All eyes turned to Sharin.

The top student in Magical Studies, Sharin Sazaris.

Even under the weight of all those stares, she remained as calm as ever, shrugging lazily.

"I'm just that competent."

Many second-years, now realizing she was on our team, looked puzzled.

Their expressions seemed to ask, Why is someone like her mixed in with those troublemakers?

“Ahhh! Right after Princess Iris? That’s cruel! Our team is in shambles without Sharin!”

Despair was written all over Seron’s face.

Understandable—this lineup was perfect for a direct comparison.

I raised a hand and firmly pressed down on Seron’s head.

Enough with the whining.

"Listen up. The strongest team just set the record."

A mischievous grin crept onto my face.

“That means if we clear it in less than 31 minutes and 21 seconds, we win.”

It was obvious, but it wasn’t something people usually dared to say.

Card burst out laughing.

“That’s true! That’s just how it works.”

“Heheh, this will be fun.”

As expected of a group of troublemakers, none of them showed the slightest hint of intimidation.

“Yeah, if you’ve called me in, that’s the level we’re aiming for,”

Sharin said, nodding with satisfaction.

"Let's go take first place."

As we walked toward the arena, I noticed Isabel.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off me from the start.

Determination burned in her gaze—clearly a sign of rivalry.

It was obvious what she was thinking:

‘No matter what score you achieve, I’ll surpass it.’

Isabel didn’t care about team Iris at all.

Her sole purpose was to defeat me.

If that’s the case...

‘I’m not going to let you win.’

Not for the sake of the scenario, not for anything.

The group competition.

We would finish in first place.

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