BOOM!
BOOM!
Fireballs exploded in rapid succession.
Arthur watched in silence, eyes fixed on the girl unleashing them. Her attacks were relentless—but not without rhythm.
There's a pattern, he noted. Every five fireballs, she pauses to insert something into the ring.
He moved in, step by step, closing the distance. When she began feeding the ring again, Arthur acted.
SWOOSH!
He dashed forward and struck.
CLANG!
A translucent barrier flared up, deflecting his blade and forcing him back.
"Bastard!" she shouted, startled. Another barrage followed.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
They fell into a rhythm. She cast. He dodged. Then struck.
Over and over again.
But Arthur was already preparing an escape route. This clash was dragging on—too noisy, too risky. He couldn't afford to be ambushed. Yet just as he considered retreat, fine cracks spidered across her barrier.
Panic crept into her movements. Her attacks grew wild.
CRACK!
The barrier shattered.
Arthur's blade came down with brutal precision.
SMASH!
The girl flew backward, slammed into a tree, and crumpled to the ground.
"ARGH!"
She groaned, body limp. "YOU FUCKER, YOU BROKE MY SPINE!"
"You're rather vulgar for a lady," Arthur muttered, already over her. His sword swung again—clean, practiced.
SPLAT.
Her arm fell to the ground.
"FUCK!" she screamed, bloodied and glaring.
Arthur picked up the severed limb, removed the ring, then quickly looted her body.
"What's this?" he asked, inspecting the artifact.
"You must be from the old continent," she spat, defiant even now. "Don't even know what an artifact is. Why did the council bring garbage like you here?"
Arthur ignored the insult. But as he raised his sword again, she spoke:
"I'm Elanora Hugione. From the Hugione wizard family. Kill me, and you'll be marked."
"Oh?" Arthur paused. "And how would they know?"
"Tracking spell," she snapped. "Kill me, and my family will know instantly. Heal me, return my belongings, and I'll forget this ever happened."
Arthur chuckled, amused. "Confident, aren't we?" He tilted his head. "Do you know what a programmer is?"
"What?" she blinked, confused.
"Programmer. That's what I was, back on Earth," he said, flipping the sword idly. "Every function has a trigger, a condition. So let me simplify this: if I kill you, the spell activates. But what if I… shift the trigger?"
Her face darkened with uncertainty.
Arthur crouched beside her. "Let's say I hang your body and leave you bleeding—so that a beast finishes the job. In that case, the spell would target the beast, not me. Function complete. You die. I will stay clean."
"No, no! That won't work!" she cried, voice trembling. "It's still your fault—your intent!"
"Intent?" Arthur scoffed. "So by that logic, the ones who threw us into this deathmatch should be marked too, yes? Or maybe the spell needs proximity. What's the range? A few meters? A thousand miles?"
She hesitated. Fear crept into her eyes.
"There it is," Arthur smiled coldly. "Fear."
"P-please," she stammered. "I won't say anything. I swear!"
"Then start talking. The ring, what is it? What were you inserting in it? And what are the one time use stones that can be used to cast spells? Speak."
"It's a beginner artifact," she rushed. "Uses spiritual energy and spirit stones for casting. I'm a first realm apprentice—my spiritual sea can't sustain using the spell, so the stones were supported. As for the others—they were probably runes, low-grade, single-use, inscribed for spell casting."
Arthur nodded slowly.
"Thank you."
He stepped forward again, blade raised.
"Y-you promised!" she screamed.
"I did."
He paused.
"But I also promised myself—never to leave a threat alive."
SHINK.
Arthur had no intention of letting the girl go.
Marked or not, it didn't matter.
If her family were truly powerful, she wouldn't have been here — forced to take the same exam as commoners. That alone told him enough. She might come from a wizard bloodline, but it clearly wasn't one of the dominant ones.
Making enemies with a wizard family carried risks. He wasn't blind to that. But as long as he kept his head down inside the Academy and avoided unnecessary attention, they wouldn't dare move against him openly.
Letting her go, though? That was never an option.
This world was vast, far stranger than he had ever imagined — and his own ignorance of magic had nearly cost him more than once. He needed leverage, an edge. And she might be part of that.
Whether his plan would succeed or backfire… that was something he'd find out later.
As for the spell she'd cast? He didn't flinch.
How dangerous could a curse from a minor wizard family be?
***
"Who the hell did this?"
Two apprentices crouched behind a tree at a distance, their eyes locked on the grotesque scene before them—a mutilated corpse hung from a branch, wrists slashed, while foul, monstrous figures tore at the flesh with animalistic hunger.
"Someone hung her there… slit her wrists, and left her as bait."
One of them whispered, voice laced with disbelief.
"They either wanted her to die slowly… or be devoured alive."
"Why? That's going too far…"
The second apprentice muttered, struggling to keep his voice steady.
"I don't want to know… But what's bothering me more than that are the monsters."
"What do you mean? What are they?"
His eyes darted toward the skinless, human-dog hybrids beneath the tree. Their twisted backs curved unnaturally, razor-sharp teeth gleaming under the canopy's dim light. Their white irises reflected no soul—only hunger.
"Those things… they're Ghouls."
The first apprentice's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Ghouls? Are you serious?"
The second apprentice's breath caught in his throat.
"Aren't those as strong as Intermediate Knights?"
"Yes. That's why we need to get out of here. Now."
The first apprentice glanced around nervously.
"Luckily, when they feed, their senses dull. That's probably why they haven't noticed us yet."
"Right… Let's move. Quietly."
They crept away, hearts pounding, leaving behind the nightmare feast. The ghouls never noticed. Two more potential victims slipped through their grasp.
If Arthur had witnessed the scene, he would have paused—his mind flashing back to a video game from Earth. The creatures bore an eerie resemblance to the Ghouls in a game he used to play of a Cat-Eyed Monster Hunter.
They weren't identical, no. These were more grotesque, more real—but the uncanny similarity was undeniable.