Chapter 43: Mistakes Are Made

"Beautiful distraction and capitalizing on the opportunity! You've had some training huh!" He yells, his arms glowing with a familiar golden brilliance as they begin to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.

What the fuck?!

That move is supposed to be a fight ender!

It was clear that the pellets of wind hit him square in the face, yet he's completely calm and basically unharmed!

No, that's not true. His face is covered with very small, yet noticeable wounds.

Does air magic's power decrease over the distance or did I hold back too much?

No time to think, only to act.

Risky or not, he's already proven he can take Absolute Zero front on, so I need to step it up.

What's better than one blast?

Two, obviously.

Before his arms and face are fully healed, I throw my staff into my right hand and stick my left palm out alongside it.

"Shut up for once!" I yell, blasting one out from my staff and one out from my left hand.

This is insane! Casting two spells of this caliber should theoretically cost double, but the drain is nearly quadrupled.

I don't understand magic.

Either way, a face of seriousness flashes briefly across the instructor's face, as he places his palms forward and chants something quickly.

Suddenly, the mana flowing out of my still injured arms surges.

If the pain before was akin to sticking my hands into fire, this was getting scalped with a spoon.

I can't take it anymore.

Canceling the spell, my arms fall to my side, paralyzed from pain.

"Ruthless! Attacking even when I'm healing and you're just about out of mana!" He says, yet as soon as I heard the words it's already too late.

Whatever spell he used to counter mine must have worked for him, as before I could even react he was in front of me.

With a front kick powerful enough to shatter a few of my ribs, I'm sent crashing against the barrier.

I can feel the field begin to heal me as I cough up a bit of blood.

"I give up, you win." I cough out as the healing magic of the barrier floods into me and heals every part of me except my pride and mana-abused arms.

Talk about a loss of progress in healing huh.

I make it look as if my transformation magic wears off with a puff of smoke as I recast Alter Ego, my bones painfully re-stretching and rearranging to bring back my body of Vincent Decourville.

However, unlike usual, the instructor comes over to me to help me up.

"That was the best spar I've had in a minute friend, it felt as if you were actually aiming to kill me!" He says, grinning and helping me to my feet. "You're free to stay and watch or you're free to head out. Your ability as a fighter and adventurer is impressive enough, so come back later today or tomorrow morning to get your rank and associated items."

I kinda was trying to kill you at the end there not gonna lie, or at least not trying not to.

If only my arms could have kept up with the rest of me.

Also, why does he think I'm out of mana? I've got plenty left in the tank still.

Dusting myself off, I walk towards the door the instructor pointed to.

Stepping through, the door opens to what looks like a locker room.

Lockers line the walls, with fresh towels and a change of clothes. That's surprisingly generous of them.

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Taking a nice warm shower and changing into clothes free of blood and dirt, I grab an additional set of clothes as well as a bag hanging from the wall.

After stuffing both my new clothes and my dirty clothes into it, I step out of the locker room and into a small reception area.

A waiting area maybe? Whatever, I need to head back to Teresa.

Just as I grab the handle to leave, a familiar voice calls out to me.

"Wait, don't leave just yet." The older gentleman who proctored the written exams says, running up to me in a ragged fashion. Great, of course, I'm getting dragged into a conversation now. I tired man what is it.

"Can I help you, sir?" Is what I actually end up saying of course. Appearances and all that.

"How did you know the answers to these questions." The proctor asked with a look on his face I've seen far too often, the look of a greedy peer.

"Yes, I noticed that. I also noticed you used a completely different formula to what is taught in the capital yet still arrived at the answers faster than the average scholar. I don't even recognize some of the signals you've written here." The man said, pointing at my bad interpretation of Pi.

Shit.

I figured that if this world had this complex of math, then they'd also use the same formulas. I mean come on! It's the only stuff I know.

"Is my willingness to answer questions and provide explanations connected at all to my acceptance into the Union?" I say, sensing an obvious loaded response that amounts to a yes.

Much to my surprise, instead of capitalizing on the scenario, the proctor twists his face into an almost disgusted snarl.

"Do you really think so low of the Union that we'd block a scholar from joining simply because he won't teach for free? I'm asking this as an academic, not an employee." The man says, keeping his disgusted look.

Oh man, I must have pushed a button there. Damage control time!

"I'm sorry if I've offended your curious mind, I've only recently arrived in this town and I'm sure you can see why I'd be suspicious. There's a con artist every three feet, so I apologize if I came off a little defensive." I say, putting my hands up as a universal sign that I mean no harm.

Thankfully, that's about all he needed to hear to drop the stink eye.

"You've done no such thing, I understand being on guard in Sanmara. Especially for someone with absolutely no documented history no matter how much I had my servants and scribes look." The man said, whispering into my ear. "You can drop the transformation magic, halfling. I saw your true form whilst I was spectating the practical exam. I'm not as easily fooled as that meathead, I know the difference between casting and dropping magic."

Ahh, there's the threat.

I guess it's a blessing that halflings seem to populate this continent since if they didn't I would be in a much more precarious situation. Although, I guess my plan to be able to return and be sponsored by Teresa is out the window.

I really shouldn't have dropped Alter Ego, but it was the best idea I had in the heat of battle.

He was slashing at my neck! I could have died!

Probably not since we were fighting in a ring of healing magic surrounded by healing mages, and was probably just gonna break my neck or knock me out.

But that would still have hurt damn it!

Whatever, I guess I did well enough that I don't need a sponsor.

"Alright, you've got me," I say, dropping Alter Ego and looking up at the man. "My real name is Antonio Icefield, a pleasure to meet ya," I say, putting my hand out for him to shake it. There's no way I can tell this joker my full name in this world since my old family would sniff me out immediately.

Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, except for my father, they seemed like good people.

"Hmm, I've never heard of the Icefield tribe, are they scholars?" The man asks, a look of confusion flashing across his face.

Right, clans are a thing here. Are halflings considered demonoids?

Is that racist?

"We used to be a small clan of scholars, but unfortunately due to the nature of the mountains we secluded ourselves in, the combination of a cave in and a monster attack left me as the only one left. That's why I aim to strengthen not only my mind but also magic." Please tell me halflings sometimes live in mountains or I'm gonna have to make up even more bullshit.

"I'm truly sorry for your loss, I know clans are bonds stronger than blood for your kind, so losing them must have dealt a heavy blow. I'm just glad at least one of the Icefield's great minds survived to spread your knowledge." Thank God he bought it.

Actually, speaking of God, he may know something about the capital or stuff going on there.

"I appreciate your condolences, but in exchange for some of my knowledge, I'd like some of yours. I'm looking for information on the capital of the Magic Kingdom and any recent events. Would you know anything?"

Hopefully, this can be my first step toward the end game.

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