That afternoon, after finishing her lesson with Clara and leaving the Magic Department, it was still early. Margarita stood at the crossroads in deep thought for a few minutes before finally turning toward the path to the Swordsmanship Department.
The training field was located behind the Swordsmanship Department building, a sandy area enclosed by a fence. Margarita walked to the outside of the fence and found a spot against a pillar to stand. Instead of looking inside, she pulled Clara’s Introduction to Soul Magic from her coat and flipped to the page marked with a bookmark.
During the lesson, Clara had written a line of annotation at the bottom of the page: “A narrow circuit with high mana capacity makes instantaneous release of high-intensity magic difficult. It is recommended to first attempt enhancement magic requiring high precision, such as Illusion or Transmutation, or simple tricks.” Leaning against the pillar, Margarita went over the key points in her head as she read.
What Clara had said in class was: “Your current soul mana capacity is like a lake, but your method of drawing water is only a small valve.”
Flipping back a few pages, Clara had drawn a small diagram in the margin of this page, writing next to it: “The stability of the circuit depends on the caster’s mental state; usually, you can try to condense soul mana in a noisy environment.”
Margarita stared at the words “noisy environment” for a moment. She looked up at the training field: the thump-thump of blades hitting wooden stakes, the shink-shink of footsteps on the sand, and the occasional correction from Glion shouting, “The angle is wrong!”
It was quite noisy here.
She nodded, closed the book, and held the booklet to her chest. Her right hand hung at her side, and her fingertips moved slightly, gathering a pea-sized dot of pink light.
Mana release.
The corners of Margarita’s mouth curled up as she looked at the dot of light on her fingertip with satisfaction. Things were looking up.
She was about to try again when she suddenly thought of something. Minor illusions. The scrolls in her home library had specifically covered basic illusion tricks; there was a small trick to create a sound, and the principle was simple—it produced sound directly through the vibration of mana. It didn’t require communication with the elements or a complex spell structure, just some mana manipulation that wasn't overly precise.
She could try that.
Margarita looked up. Joshua was practicing a new swordsmanship style against a stake in a far corner, his gray practice uniform already soaked with sweat. Lovell was practicing dagger thrusts at the stake next to him, her red short ponytail swinging back and forth.
She cupped the point of light in her palm and flicked it toward Joshua.
The point of light drifted over the fence, crossed half the training field, and vibrated gently near Joshua’s ear.
“Joshua.”
Joshua’s movements stopped. He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the training field before finally landing outside the fence.
Margarita was leaning against the pillar, still holding her booklet. She waved at him and smiled.
That smile was a bit different from her usual polite one. Usually, Margarita seemed to care about being demure and not showing her teeth, but at this moment, she was genuinely delighted to be able to use magic without activating the Star-Spun Stone. She didn't have time for such formalities. The setting sun shone on her face, making her tear mole stand out. Her posture against the pillar was relaxed, her silver-white hair hanging over her shoulders, and the silver-gray ribbon on her side braid swayed slightly in the wind. That smile was almost too dazzling under the evening sun, causing Joshua to daze for a moment.
He wasn't the only one in the training field who saw it.
In the two rows of students from the Intermediate Class, the few on the side near the fence slowed down first. They had already been stealing glances this way, and now that Margarita smiled, their sword rhythms were completely thrown off. One student’s angle was off when he struck the stake, the blade sliding across the surface with an ear-piercing rasp. Another simply stopped, the tip of his sword hanging toward the ground.
Glion stopped moving his wooden stick.
He followed their gazes and saw Margarita outside the fence. Then he looked back at the slouching students in front of him. The old man’s mouth turned downward.
“Is she that pretty?” Glion’s voice wasn't loud, but everyone in the training field heard it loud and clear.
The students snapped their heads back, gripping their swords straight.
“You.” Glion pointed the wooden stick at the boy closest to the fence. “Thrust, diagonal slash, do it again.”
The boy flusteredly regained his stance and slashed down, his angle even worse than before. Glion walked over and tapped his wrist with the stick. “Where are your eyes looking?”
“Professor, I…”
“The stake is here,” Glion tapped the top of the stake with his stick. “If you can miss the stake while looking at it, can you hit anything while looking at something else?”
The boy’s ears turned red, and he didn't dare say a word.
Glion turned to the other distracted students. “And the rest of you, double today’s training! Keep slashing until the sun goes down before you leave!”
A low chorus of groans rose from the training field. Glion ignored them and walked back to the front to continue watching Joshua.
Margarita opened her book and made a note for herself. The effect of the directional transmission just now was better than she expected; her mana manipulation was quite precise. If Clara knew, she’d probably make her demonstrate it again.
Footsteps came from the other side of the fence. A short-haired boy leaned against a pillar two or three steps away from her. Margarita looked up at him. She had seen this person on the edge of the training field earlier; he was one of the most experienced among the Advanced Class students, about half a head taller than Joshua, with a look in his eyes that was three parts disdain, three parts playfulness, and four parts certainty of success.
“From the Magic Department?” the short-haired boy asked.
Margarita closed her book. “Yes.”
“Waiting for someone?”
“Yes.”
The boy tilted his chin toward the training field. “Who?”
Margarita glanced toward Joshua. The short-haired boy followed her gaze. “That transfer student? Percy?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your relationship with him?”
“…”
No matter how dense she was, Margarita realized at this point that she was being hit on.
Me? Me? I’m the one being hit on?
Seeing her silence, the boy straightened up and reached out a hand. “I’m Valen, Advanced Class. If you come to see your brother in the future, you can stop by and chat with me.”
Margarita looked at his hand but didn't shake it. She opened her book and returned her gaze to its pages.
Valen’s hand hung in mid-air. He was about to say something else when Glion’s voice rang out from the training field.
“Valen.”
Valen’s body stiffened.
“What are you doing over there?” Glion didn't turn around. “The training field is over here. If the Advanced Class has finished training, go back. Don't linger by the fence.”
“Professor, I—”
“Go back. Extra training tomorrow.”
Valen’s face fell. He squeezed out a smile for Margarita that looked worse than crying before turning and leaving the training field.
After training ended, Joshua was among the last to leave. He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, sheathed his sword, and looked up to see Margarita standing outside the fence. Lovell darted out from beside him and threw an arm around Joshua’s shoulder.
“Little Mari is here! Did you just do something to Joshua? He suddenly stopped for a moment while he was practicing!”
“It was nothing.” Margarita tucked the book back into her coat. “Just… a new trick.”
Joshua jogged over. “Did you call me just now?”
“Yeah, directional transmission. It was written in one of the scrolls from the village library. Today was my first time trying it.”
“It’s quite a distance. How did you do it?”
“It just requires a bit more precision with mana manipulation. Was it clear when you heard it?”
Joshua nodded. “Very clear. It was like you were speaking right next to me.”
Lovell chimed in from the side. “He learned three new movements this afternoon! Those people next to us have been stuck in the same spot for three months. Just now, several of them were staring at you and got punished by Professor Glion.”
“You… look good in that today,” Joshua said.
Not just Joshua—even Margarita herself thought she looked good. The Magic Department uniform of Capital Academy turned out to be a blazer with a pleated skirt, topped with a long trench-style robe. She had that silver-white gun tucked into her lower back, hidden away by the coat. When Clara had brought out the uniform, Margarita had almost doubted if she had slept and transmigrated back home.
Oh, darling, don't ask about the skirt. Once you start cross-dressing, there's no turning back.
Lovell burst out laughing. Joshua’s ears turned so red they looked like they might drip blood, and he lowered his head.
Before the laughter died down, Valen walked in from outside the training field. He hadn't gone far after being driven away by Glion. He stopped near Joshua and glanced at the three of them.
“Percy,” he said, his tone casual.
Joshua and Margarita looked up together.
“You’re pretty good,” Valen said. “Transferring in and getting private lessons from Professor Glion. It took us years to even touch advanced techniques, yet you’ve caught up in less than a month. You even have time to bring two girls to the training field and distract everyone.”
Joshua didn't say anything.
Valen looked at Margarita and Lovell again. “This girl is quite pretty, and the redhead next to you isn't bad either. You’re certainly lucky.”
The smile on Lovell’s face vanished. She stood beside Joshua, her hand at her side, her fingertips twitching—a habit of hers when entering a combat state.
Joshua stepped forward, blocking Margarita and Lovell behind him. “What did you say?”
“I said you’re lucky,” Valen laughed. “A pretty girl from the Magic Department and a redhead from the Swordsmanship Department. You transfer in, do better than us seniors, get personally trained by Professor Glion, doing months' worth of training in a day, and still find the time to play the ladykiller. How is that fair?”
A few Advanced Class students behind him followed with some laughter.
“If you’ve got the guts, fight me on the training field tomorrow,” Valen said. “Let everyone see just what level this transfer student personally trained by Professor Glion is really at.”
The surrounding swordsmanship students all stopped in their tracks.
Joshua looked at Valen, his expression unchanged.
“Fine,” he said.
Valen smiled and tilted his chin toward his companions behind him. “You all heard that! Tomorrow afternoon, on the training field. Professor Glion will be the referee.” He turned to leave, glancing at Margarita as he passed her. Margarita remained unmoved, not even sparing him a look.
The crowd dispersed, leaving only the three of them at the training field entrance.
“Who is that guy?” Lovell asked after Valen was far away. “Is he bitter because he’s trained for years and you caught up in weeks? He got punished by Professor Glion today and took his anger out on you?”
Margarita watched Valen’s departing back, falling into deep thought. She hadn't seen anyone like Valen in the game. In other words, the butterfly effect from saving Percy Village had influenced this part, leading this background NPC from the Advanced Class to challenge Joshua to a duel… What was most likely to be affected…
The Student Council. Specifically, the Student Council President, Constance von Windermere. If Joshua won this duel that appeared unfair on the surface, the President would very likely take notice of him and recruit him into the Student Council ahead of schedule…
Add to that Clara, who was currently guiding her, and that meant all three heroines had appeared…
She withdrew her gaze and looked at Joshua, her expression suddenly turning a bit strange.
“Joshua…”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. Don't lose face.”
Joshua turned to look at her. The setting sun made his blue eyes shine brightly.
“I won't,” he said.
“Aww~ ‘I’ll be there tomorrow’~” Lovell teased, making faces at them.
“…” Margarita drew her gun.
The redhead immediately stood at attention.
Rate on N.U.
