A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 91

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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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A Returner’s Magic Must Be Special, Chapter 91

Chapter 91. They Advance (1)

Part 19. They Advance

Kelt Fasil Nifleka.
A second-year leader of the Blue Moon Party, a Single Ranker, and someone who had achieved Four-Circle status—he was among the most talented students at Hebrion Academy. Anyone who didn’t know him, the brother of Professor Nifleka, didn’t exist within the academy’s walls.
And Dezir defeated him. He won a clean victory before first and second-year Single Rankers who had all gathered to watch the sparring lecture.
That it would bring substantial change to Dezir’s academy life was self-evident.
“Did you see how that bastard’s been acting? Seriously, it feels so good.”
The Dezir Party office.
Romantika’s laughter rang through the space in cheerful bursts.
And she was right.
In the lectures after that day, he’d crossed paths with Doneta several times, and the man had lost all his earlier momentum entirely.
The aggressive criticism he’d once leveled at Dezir had vanished without a trace; whenever Doneta encountered him, he’d drop his gaze and hurry away from the scene.
“Your mood’s improved considerably, Romantika.”
Romantika nodded at Dezir’s words.
“Of course it has. We really put those bastards in their place.”
Attitudes toward the Dezir Party hadn’t shifted dramatically overall. But the nobility no longer expressed open disdain toward them, and no one questioned Dezir’s abilities anymore.
As a result, party members no longer needed to flush with anger or lose their composure. Academy life had become considerably more comfortable.
But the changes didn’t end there.
Knock-knock.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Looks like we’ve got another one.”
Romantika rose from the sofa, straightened her clothes, and set a chair in front of Dezir.
“I’ll prepare tea.”
Fram hurried toward the kitchen.
“Come in.”
The door opened the moment Dezir gave his permission.
A girl with short brown hair and oversized horn-rimmed glasses stepped through.
“What brings you to see us?”
She answered in a tone that seemed to lay bare her very nature.
“I heard from Professor Benquick that your party provides training assistance without any conditions, so I’ve come to apply for membership.”
Professor Benquick.
A professor teaching Rune Language—since the second semester began, he’d been consistently backing Dezir. He was a commoner, just like Dezir.
“Please, sit here.”
As she took the chair set before Dezir, Fram returned with light refreshments.
Dezir pulled out a document labeled “membership application” from the stack of papers in front of him.
“What’s your name?”
“Pricel. Pricel Kay.”
Pricel, her gaze wandering uncertainly, asked Dezir carefully.
“But is it really true that this party accepts Beta Class students?”
Click.
Dezir set down his pen.
“Why would you think we wouldn’t?”
Pricel fumbled for an answer.
“Well, your party is extremely strong, and I’m Beta Class, so…….”
“There are no restrictions in our membership criteria, so please don’t worry about that. But Pricel, surely you’ve heard stories about our party?”
“Yes. I heard it’s a party with very harsh training, and one that’s disliked by many of the nobles.”
“Then why would you leave the party you originally belonged to and come here?”
There were naturally parties within Beta Class as well. But their primary work bore little relation to Clearing the Shadow World.
They barely participated in seventh-grade Shadow Worlds, or provided conveniences to Alpha Class parties.
Some Beta Class parties had even been established solely to serve Alpha Class.
Inequality, irrationality—accepted and absorbed as fate.
Dezir searched for information about Pricel through his Pad.
The party she belonged to was called Arachne. It was a subcontract party tasked with gathering intelligence for the Alpha Class party’s expedition into the Shadow World.
“……I simply couldn’t endure it any longer.”
Pricel Kay drew a Pad from her pocket, activated its photo function, and showed it to Dezir Armang.
There were several photographs. Textbooks torn to shreds and scattered about. A desk with broken legs, rendered utterly useless.
Dezir Armang’s brow furrowed. Now he understood why she had come.
“You’re being bullied?”
“…….”
Pricel Kay nodded.
“But my party couldn’t help me. The professors couldn’t either. They couldn’t afford to assist me while making Alpha Class their enemy.”
The bullying of commoners by aristocrats at Hebrion Academy was thoroughly overlooked.
Her fellow party members could be said to have condoned violence, yet she harbored no resentment toward them. She had said they couldn’t help rather than wouldn’t help.
Dezir Armang touched his left eye. It was truly difficult to help others while putting oneself in danger.
The ones who deserved genuine resentment, the ones who warranted retaliation, were the perpetrators who had tormented her.
“……If that’s your reason, you needn’t join a party at all. We’ll handle it for you.”
Yet Pricel Kay shook her head.
“No. I don’t think that would mean anything. This feeling won’t fade unless I land a blow myself. That’s why I’ve come here—to train rigorously without any conditions or obligations.”
“I’ll do my best to train you.”
And so Pricel Kay’s entry into the party was approved.
Dezir Armang reviewed the party roster. Three new names had been added, including Pricel Kay. Applications had begun flooding in after he defeated Kelt in the sparring lecture.
‘Beta Class students who’d been enduring abuse from the aristocrats are joining now.’
It was a good sign. The impression Dezir Armang had made was beginning to take effect.
‘The current state of Beta Class education is dire.’
The situation itself had scarcely changed.
‘Even next year, talented newcomers will be sorted into Beta Class.’
Sorted into Beta Class for no reason other than their common birth, denied even proper instruction.
Among them were gifted individuals who remained as uncut gems, their potential never refined.
The deep-rooted prejudice aristocrats harbored against commoners.
‘The root cause is the revolution sparked by the Republican faction.’
That event twelve years ago had left an indelible wound on both commoners and aristocrats alike, still lingering in many minds.
As long as hatred continued to flow between them, nothing would change.
‘I have to change this.’
So that aristocrats and commoners could blend together.
So that commoners could be recognized.
‘Draw together talented individuals. Create an environment where they can receive proper education.’
With adequate training, there were countless Beta Class students who could flourish.
‘For the conquest of the Shadow Labyrinth.’

* * *

The Training Grounds before dawn mist had lifted.
Azest was there.
She swung her blade ceaselessly, her long platinum hair streaming, the Enchanted Sword deployed at maximum output until her Mana drained entirely to its limit.
It was practice to handle the Enchanted Sword with greater finesse. Such training had continued in repetition since the second semester began.
Azest clenched her teeth.
‘I was of no help whatsoever.’
Azest recalled her own powerlessness.
Frillecha Kingdom.
Until she faced the Raven Mask, she had believed she stood shoulder to shoulder with Dezir Armang.
But that had been pure delusion.
While evading Thadeneuph, Dezir Armang had turned to her and said:

“Keep Fram and Romantika from leaving the ship.”

And then Dezir Armang sacrificed himself.
Azest could not forgive it.
When Thadeneuph appeared, she had been able to do nothing—forced merely to watch, helpless.
Crack!
Her concentration shattered. The ice gathered on her blade crumbled and fell away.
Azest lowered her sword and collapsed where she stood, taking a brief rest.
“Haah…….”
Azest’s talent yields to no one. Yet even for her, the wall between the Fourth Circle and Rook Rank loomed impossibly high.
Since she had to master two talents simultaneously, it was only natural that this proved far more difficult than training in a single discipline.
Crunch, crunch.
Azest sensed an approaching presence and turned to look in that direction.
“Up early again, I see.”
Romantika approached her. She wore athletic clothes suited for training.
As she clapped her hands, the dawn mist swept away with a snap.
“Is there something you need from me?”
Romantika came to stand before Azest.
“Training Grounds or not, business here is always the same. I came to train too.”
Romantika then deployed magic toward Azest—a Second Circle spell.
Azest drew her blade and deflected it.
Clang.
A resounding boom echoed through the Training Grounds.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s do some practical training.”
Practical training.
“You want to get stronger—I do too. So here’s what I’m thinking: let’s settle the match we never had at the Yellow Ocean Tournament.”
The Yellow Ocean Tournament.
Romantika and Azest had the opportunity to face each other there, but the Outer’s attack had ruined it.
“I’d really like to see this through to the end. What do you say?”
Azest suspected Romantika’s words came from more than just that intention. Romantika had been watching her with an odd wariness—a reason Azest couldn’t quite place, though it had always been so.
‘But it’s not a bad opportunity.’
Azest judged Romantika to be a suitable opponent for practicing the use of her Enchanted Sword in real combat.
Romantika, who had trained directly under Dezir Armang for more than half a year, possessed truly exceptional skill as a mage.
There was nothing she couldn’t do.
Azest raised her blade.
‘But…’
Azest raised her blade.
“Just training would be dull, though.”
“What?”
“Whoever loses cleans the office. The deadline is whenever you challenge me again and win. Accept these terms, and I’ll take you on.”
At Azest’s proposal, Romantika found herself at a loss for words.
‘Cleaning of all things…!’
Romantika, raised in luxury, was far from accustomed to menial tasks like cleaning.
Moreover, there was no fixed deadline. She might end up managing the office cleaning for the rest of her life.
‘But if I win, I get to watch Azest cleaning! That alone is worth it!’
Romantika mulled it over briefly before nodding with resolve.
“Fine, I accept. Don’t back out of this later.”
“Good attitude.”
Azest smiled faintly.
She drew up her mana, composing her strategy with calm deliberation.
It felt like she could finally fight at full strength.

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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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