Chapter 35
“…So.”
Celia looked at Ingram with faint irritation in her eyes.
“You’re telling me you dragged me out here, of all places?”
The spot Ingram had brought her to was behind the academy’s storage building—a secluded area that few people ever passed by. The intent was so obvious it was almost funny. Celia’s tone hardened.
“Seems like you’ve mistaken me for someone easy to mess with.”
“How could I ever belittle you, my lady? You’re the terrifying one who uses magic in swordsmanship exams under the excuse of being a magic swordsman.”
“So I have to say it again, huh? What’s wrong with a magic swordsman using magic?”
“In a duel against a swordsman, one should fight honorably—”
Oh right. He’d tried to lecture her about “honor” earlier too. Celia let out a short laugh.
‘He talks as if his own cheating is some kind of divine right.’
Her smile twisted slightly. Ingram’s face hardened, and he drew his sword. Celia glanced at the blade glinting faintly in the sunlight.
“That’s a real sword, isn’t it?”
“Surely you’re not afraid of a real duel now, my lady?”
There was venom in his tone. Celia only shrugged.
“I was under the impression that using a real sword in the academy was a serious violation of the rules.”
“You’re not the type to care about rules, are you?”
That answer was surprisingly accurate—meaning he’d been watching her closely, obsessively even.
Celia swept her eyes around. Several boys stood encircling them.
“And these people?”
“Don’t worry. Your opponent is only me. The others are just witnesses.”
Another ridiculous thing to say. Ingram raised his voice sharply.
“This time, we settle it for real. A life-or-death duel!”
“You’re still hung up on that? Women hate that sort of stubbornness. Maybe that’s why Princess Marcella lost interest in you?”
“You dare mention the princess!”
At the mention of the princess, Ingram’s fury exploded. Celia gazed at him lazily. Honestly, the whole incident had been a social death for him. She doubted he’d have lasted long with the princess anyway.
“I told you, I don’t risk my life over a petty noble boy.”
“Then you’ll just run to that Flier Diaman wretch, is that it?”
‘That’s your big threat?’
Celia looked at him with sheer pity. She definitely hadn’t come back to life just to deal with idiots like him. It was almost tragic. She sighed.
“Fine. Let’s end this quickly, then. Leave that man out of it.”
“This will be the last moment you can act so relaxed.”
Clang!
Out of nowhere, a real sword—unsheathed—was tossed at her feet. He didn’t even care if it hurt her.
Celia merely arched an eyebrow and picked it up.
Tap.
Before she even had time to take a stance, Ingram lunged. Celia parried the wild swing with a clean, sharp motion.
His swordplay was pathetic. Even if he called himself advanced or elite, beating a Swordmaster was out of the question.
“Urgh!”
Every attack he launched was blocked instantly, which only made him swing harder and sloppier. The boys watching began backing away—his violent strikes could easily hit them too. Celia frowned.
‘What’s with everyone developing such awful habits lately.’
Clang!
Celia struck his sword mid-swing, sending it flying before anyone got hurt. For a moment, she saw hatred flash in his eyes.
“Now it’s over, right?”
“You just used magic again—”
“I told you, I didn’t.”
She sighed and stabbed her sword into the ground.
“You talk big about life and death when you’ve never even drawn blood before.”
“…”
“I’ll be going now. Accept the result, and stop spreading nonsense about Diaman—”
“How dare you!”
Ingram roared suddenly. The boys flinched—just as a louder voice shouted from behind them.
“What in the world is going on here?!”
Someone was running toward them fast. Ozka. Likely, someone had seen Ingram dragging her away and reported it. At least she had some allies in the academy.
Then Ingram snapped his fingers.
Snap.
A deafening rumble erupted around Celia.
Boom!
“Haha!”
A magic circle flared beneath her feet.
‘So that’s why he brought me here.’
A trap, already prepared. Ozka’s face turned pale as he approached.
Clatter. Chains—or something like them—rang faintly in her ears. She felt her mana being bound.
Yes, this feeling she knew well. Mana control—one of the first spells taught in the Mage Tower.
Ozka shouted as he ran closer.
“Ingram Phillips! You’ve gone too far!”
He scanned the scene, then bolted off again to get a teacher from the magic department—someone who could break the restraining circle safely.
Ingram, however, ignored him completely, glaring only at Celia. His eyes were bloodshot.
“The circle you’re standing on seals a mage’s mana.”
His voice was full of cruel delight.
“Once it’s activated, you can’t use magic anymore.”
He leaned in, whispering triumphantly.
“This is your end—”
Celia looked at him flatly.
“You really don’t need to explain. I’m a direct disciple of the Tower Master, you know.”
“Still pretending to be calm!”
No, she was calm. She knew suppression-type magic well enough.
“And by the way,” she added, “that circle and the sword—both require authorization to use.”
Restraint magic like this was only meant for emergencies; misuse could seriously harm the target. Clearly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Then came the next slash. Celia tilted her head slightly, letting the blade whistle past—slicing off a few strands of her red hair.
“Now it begins! I’ll make you pay for mocking me!”
Celia’s gaze turned icy. The déjà vu reminded her of Riman. Though even Riman had been more rational—at least his actions weren’t deliberate.
“You’re worse than him,” she murmured.
Ingram didn’t hear. He raised his sword again, shouting:
“This is the price for not knowing your place!”
Not knowing one’s place.
A memory surfaced.
Elrod, surrounded by soldiers, basking in their cheers. Celia had watched from afar, unable to approach.
One soldier shouted:
“That’s what happens when beasts don’t know their place!”
At their feet lay the corpses of monsters Elrod had “grafted” together—a grotesque sight. Someone asked:
“How do you even do that?”
“…I just think about it. To cut with this mana, to bind with that one.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“If you think of each mana flow in opposite directions, it’s manageable.”
“Easier said than done! You’re incredible, my lord.”
Elrod had smiled faintly as he accepted the praise. The way he looked at the monsters—it was the same look Ingram now gave her.
‘Disgusting.’
But there had been a point in that explanation. The moment she recalled it, something clicked—clearer than any textbook.
“…Guess I should return the favor.”
Celia twisted, yanking her sword from the ground.
“What—? You’re still restrained!” Ingram shouted.
“It’s mana suppression, not body suppression, you brainless idiot.”
She no longer bothered to censor herself. He’d used a real sword and a forbidden magic circle—she was well within her rights. And there were plenty of “witnesses.”
She slammed her blade against his, shattering it in one blow. Ingram’s eyes widened.
“This is—”
Celia’s voice cut coldly through the air.
“That’s your price for not knowing your place.”
Scarlet and silver mana intertwined around her hand.
Thud!
“Good heavens!”
“Lord Ingram!”
The hilt of the sword struck Ingram squarely, knocking him out cold. The impact left a shallow crater in the ground.
But the shock wasn’t from the force.
“…He’s unharmed.”
“How…?”
They had all heard the crack of breaking bone—but Ingram lay there without a single wound, merely unconscious.
Because she’d combined an explosion spell with a healing spell—breaking and mending at the same instant.
Still, it must have hurt like hell.
“Sto—”
Ozka arrived with a magic instructor, both stopping mid-sentence at the sight before them. Celia simply stood there, looking down at Ingram.
His face, split and then healed in an instant, looked slightly different—better, even.
Celia tilted her head politely.
“You really ought to thank me. Oh—”
A faint smile crossed her lips.
“I suppose I should thank you too.”
Because just now, she’d figured it out—the perfect bait to lure Elrod out.
