A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 89

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 89. Between Summer and Winter (3)

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The combat lecture drew every Single Ranker from the first and second years.
But most of them comprised the Blue Moon Party.
Doneta was speaking animatedly to them, clearly pleased with himself.
“He probably grabbed Jord’s pant leg, begging him to hand over the credit.”
“Going on about how he’s the common folk’s only hope at Hebrion Academy.”
Snickering laughter rippled through the group. As Dezir’s party reached the Duel Ground where the lecture was to begin, they deliberately raised their voices, making sure to be heard—jokes so crude they were barely fit to speak aloud.
Azest and Romantika shot them a cold glance, but there was nothing they could do unless Dezir himself took action.
Azest spoke in a voice gone icy.
“One day… I’ll beat you all until you’re on death’s door.”
“I’m with you on that.”
Only when the professor arrived at the Duel Ground did Doneta’s mouth finally close.
“Welcome. I’m Erschenblang Tistacia, and I’ll be conducting this combat lecture.”
Erschenblang was a man in his mid-thirties with a long scar cutting across his cheek and his hair slicked back in a pompadour.
With his arms crossed, his hands bore calluses so thick they seemed a very symbol of his strength.
“I was once a mercenary captain and have served as commander of the Golden Bee Knights in the Hebrion Empire. There too, I trained fledglings like you into combat personnel.”
When one student visibly bristled at that remark, Erschenblang’s voice grew louder still.
“I believe that any soldier worth their salt must possess real battlefield experience to truly fulfill their role. But you are all still green. Nothing but hothouse flowers. From now on, through combat exercises close to actual warfare, you will develop into Hebrion’s finest fighting force.”
“Sounds like he’s going to be a pretty strict professor…”
Romantika murmured.
“I’m told that among Hebrion’s current Single Rankers, there are some very interesting students. First and foremost…”
His gaze swept across the assembled ranks. It traveled from student to student before finally settling on Dezir.
“Are you Dezir Armang, the top-ranked first-year Single Ranker?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
At Dezir’s answer, the professor’s lips curved upward.
“Dezir, come forward.”
As Dezir stepped ahead, Erschenblang gripped his shoulder firmly.
“I said ‘green,’ but this student is an exception to that assessment. He possesses an innate talent for combat—a gift he’s awakened himself to. You know this about yourself, don’t you?”
“…I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I hear you’ve accomplished remarkable feats since the entrance ceremony. You serve as a technical advisor to the Magic Tower, and together with Jord Exarion, you slew an ancient demon that Auter resurrected—quite the achievement.”
With each word Erschenblang spoke, Doneta’s expression grew darker.
“Hebrion Academy is notorious for its haughty nobility. You’ve trampled on their pride quite nicely. You must feel proud, as a commoner—wouldn’t you say?”
“…Professor?”
“But Dezir, look around this academy. See the eyes of the nobles fixed on you. The treatment you receive for having saved so many—is this all they grant you?”
“That’s just rumor, sir.”
Doneta, who had been quiet until then, spoke up suddenly.
“No one actually saw that bastard defeat the demon. The Tower Master probably just credited a poor commoner out of pity, or something like that.”
“Hmm? So you’re Doneta of House Hadun. Is that your own opinion?”
“Most people think the same way.”
“And you agree with that opinion?”
“Of course. Surely you know, professor, that commoners simply cannot accomplish such extraordinary things.”
“Stand up for a moment, Doneta.”
Erschenblang left Dezir’s side and strode toward the Blue Moon Party. His gait carried an undeniable gravity—the bearing of one who might unsheathe a sword at any moment.
But surprisingly, Erschenblang began to agree with Doneta’s position.
“You’re right, actually. Compared to the nobility, commoners are inferior. Most of them lack talent and can accomplish nothing. Look at exam scores alone. Comparing the students currently enrolled at Hebrion Academy, the commoner students are overwhelmingly outclassed by those of noble birth.”
As his words continued, Doneta’s initially bewildered face began to brighten.
Erschenblang pressed on.
“Some even believe it wasteful for Hebrion Academy to admit them at all. Perhaps Dezir is even staging all this theater for the sake of commoners.”
“Exactly! That’s precisely what I’m saying!”
Doneta clapped his hands as if finally someone understood him.
Erschenblang smiled, his white teeth flashing.
“Then come here and spar with this boy.”
“Huh?”
“If you haven’t seen Dezir defeat a demon with your own eyes, then you doubt him—so why not come down here and fight him yourself right now? If you can beat him in direct combat, won’t that prove the man’s a fraud?”
Dezir disliked how Erschenblang was running his mouth without so much as asking his opinion, but judging the overall flow wasn’t entirely unfavorable, he decided to let it play out.
“I, that is…….”
Doneta stammered. His mouth opened several times, but no sound came out.
“If you’ve got nothing to say, sit back down.”
Doneta collapsed back into his seat.
Seeing this, Romantika couldn’t suppress a grin.
“I really like this professor. Don’t you think so too?”
Romantika, who had been poking Azest in the ribs, noticed her friend’s expression had turned serious. She was staring at the professor with unmistakable displeasure.
“……He emphasizes the superiority of nobles and the discrimination faced by commoners to the point of excess.”
“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”
“But…….”
Azest swallowed her remaining words, troubled by a vague sense of unease.
“If anyone here believes they can defeat this student, raise your hand.”
Not a single hand went up.
“Didn’t you all claim that commoners are inferior to nobles, that they’re uncivilized wretches? Do you only know how to dress up your words and mock others? Are you truly such pathetic students—spouting pride without a shred of ability to back it up?”
He directed his words at the Blue Moon Party.
“Is there not a single noble who can defeat this commoner?”
Finally, someone’s hand shot up, and Erschenblang’s face brightened.
“Good. Come forward.”
A figure stepped out—tall and slender, with short bobbed hair and strikingly handsome features. The moment the students saw him, their expressions shifted to shock.
Dezir recognized him too.
“What’s your name?”
“Kelt Fasil Nipleka, Professor.”
Kelt Fasil Nipleka.
He was Professor Fuggman’s younger brother.
“A heavyweight’s entered the ring.”
Erschenblang laughed with evident delight.
“Excellent. Both of you, head to the Arena.”

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The Arena at the center of the Duel Ground was constructed from rectangular stone blocks.
Dezir and Kelt climbed into the Arena together.
Kelt spoke first.
“Regarding Doneta, I’d like to apologize. No matter how many times I told him to stop, he wouldn’t listen.”
Dezir replied with a note of skepticism.
“What reason do you have to apologize?”
“As a senior in the same party, I bear responsibility for failing to guide him properly.”
In the Hebrion Empire, it was extraordinarily rare for a noble to apologize to a commoner.
Dezir found this unexpected and studied him carefully.
‘For a duke’s son, he doesn’t seem to harbor discriminatory views about rank. His power level……4th Circle, perhaps.’
4th Circle—the threshold where one truly began to be called strong. He was clearly among the elite second-year students.
“Kelt! Crush him like always!”
“We believe in you!”
As expected, most spectators were predicting Kelt’s victory.
Kelt extended his hand toward Dezir with formal courtesy.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m Kelt Nipleka.”
‘I like this one.’
That was Dezir’s first impression of Kelt.
He was strong, courteous, and understood what respect meant. More importantly, despite his nobility, he lacked the discriminatory attitudes toward commoners that were so common among his class.
‘……I suppose I’ll let him have some fun.’
Dezir grasped his hand.
“I’m Dezir Armang. It’s an honor to meet you.”
After shaking hands, they separated to opposite sides of the Arena’s center.
Both were wearing Close Line. Since they were both mages, neither carried weapons.
“Well then, whenever you’re ready, let’s begin.”
Erschenblang signaled the match’s start. Simultaneously, magical formations arrayed themselves before both combatants.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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