The Imperial Magic Academy was a monument to hubris. Floating towers of white marble drifted lazily against a sky that was too blue. Too perfect. The air smelled of ozone and crushed lavender. A stark, sanitized contrast to the sulfur and rotting meat that permeated the real world. The darker corners of the game.
Sebastian stood in the shadow of a colonnade. His porcelain mask cool against his face. He adjusted the collar of his black auditor's robe. To the passing students, he was "Raven." A low-level scholar NPC. Or a player who'd chosen a non-combat support class. To the System, he was a predator in sheep's clothing.
In the center of the Fountain Plaza, a commotion was brewing. The crystalline water, usually a source of tranquility, was boiling.
"Kneel," a voice commanded. Arrogant. Heavy with the weight of mana.
Drake, the blonde Fire Mage Sebastian had noted earlier, stood with his boot on the chest of a younger student. The victim, a level 8 Earth Mage, was gasping for air. His robes smoldering. Drake's hand was wreathed in orange flame. The heat radiating outward in shimmering waves. Surrounding them were members of the "Elite" faction. Laughing as if this were a spectator sport.
Valerie stood at the edge of the circle. Her knuckles white as she gripped her staff. Sebastian could see the tension in her shoulders. She wanted to intervene. Wanted to burn Drake to a crisp. She held back though. She knew the mission. If she attacked a senior student without provocation, she'd be expelled. Their ticket to the Tournament—and the City Core—would vanish.
"I said, kneel," Drake repeated. Pressing his boot harder. There was a sickening crunch—the sound of ribs cracking under pressure. "Newbies need to learn their place. You don't look me in the eye. You look at the ground."
The student cried out. A wet, gurgling sound as blood frothed at his lips.
Sebastian sighed. It was a sound of genuine boredom. He walked out from the shadows. His footsteps silent on the cobblestones.
"That's enough," Sebastian said. His voice, modulated by the mask, sounded like grinding stones.
Drake turned. His eyes narrowing. "The Auditor? You think a librarian has the authority to stop me? This is student business. Go back to your books, Raven."
"My business is correcting mistakes," Sebastian replied. Stepping into the circle. He looked down at the injured student. The boy's chest was caved in slightly. His breathing shallow and rattling. A punctured lung. In the real world, he'd be dead in minutes. Here, his HP bar was flashing red. "And you, Drake, are a very loud mistake."
The courtyard went silent. The laughter of the Elite faction died in their throats. No one spoke to Drake like that. Not even the instructors.
Drake removed his foot from the student's chest. He turned fully toward Sebastian. A cruel, predatory smile stretching his face.
"Is that a challenge?" Drake asked. His voice dripping with malice. "Because under Academy Bylaw 7, Article 4, a senior student may challenge a faculty member if they deem their instruction... incompetent."
"I accept," Sebastian said instantly.
Valerie's eyes widened behind the crowd. She made a subtle 'cut' motion with her hand. Silently screaming at him to stop. Sebastian ignored her.
"To the death?" Drake asked. His hands flaring with brighter, hotter fire. "Or until one of us begs?"
"Until you learn," Sebastian corrected.
They moved to the Dueling Grounds. A circular arena paved with heat-resistant stone. Within minutes, a crowd of hundreds had gathered. The rumor of a suicide-mission Auditor challenging the top student spread faster than the plague.
Drake stood at one end. Rolling his shoulders. "I'm going to melt that mask to your face," he taunted. "I'm going to cook you inside those robes."
[Duel Initiated]
[Opponent: Drake (Level 19 - Fire Mage)]
Drake didn't wait for a countdown. He raised both hands. Chanting a high-tier incantation. The air in the arena was sucked toward him. Feeding the inferno he was building.
"Skill: Hellfire Blast!"
A torrent of spiraling flame, shaped like a roaring dragon, erupted from Drake's hands. The heat was intense enough to crack the stones beneath his feet. The spectators in the front row shielded their faces. The sheer thermal output blistering their skin even from a distance.
It was a kill shot. Drake wasn't trying to win. He was trying to incinerate.
Sebastian stood perfectly still. He didn't draw a weapon. Didn't dodge. He watched the roaring fire dragon approach. Calculating its trajectory. Its mana density. Its heat signature.
'Sloppy,' Sebastian thought. 'Too much wasted energy on the visual flair.'
He raised his right hand. Palm facing outward. He didn't use a Forbidden Spell. Didn't need to. He accessed the Water Magic tree he'd unlocked but rarely used.
[Skill: Water Shield] -> [Infinite Point Injection] -> [Evolution: Hydro-Static Mirror].
"Reflect."
A shimmering, circular pane of water materialized in front of Sebastian. It wasn't normal water. It was hyper-dense. Pressurized liquid mana. Surface tension increased to the point where it was harder than diamond. The surface was perfectly flat. Perfectly reflective.
BOOM.
The Hellfire Blast slammed into the mirror.
It didn't splash. Didn't evaporate. The laws of physics, rewritten by Sebastian's divine-tier skill, inverted the vector of the attack. The fire dragon hit the water. Bounced.
"What—" Drake started to say.
The spell returned to its sender with 200% velocity.
Drake didn't have time to cast a shield. The reflected fire, now compressed and accelerated, slammed into him.
FWOOSH.
The scream was horrific. It wasn't the digital cry of a character taking damage. It was the primal shriek of a human being burned alive. The fire engulfed Drake. Melting his gold-threaded robes instantly. His skin blackened. Cracked like pork rind in a deep fryer. The smell hit the crowd a second later—the sweet, cloying stench of roasted meat and burning hair.
[-4,500 (Reflected Magic Damage)]
Drake's HP bar vanished. He didn't die immediately—the system's safety protocols for duels usually prevented death. Leaving the loser at 1 HP. The pain was real though.
Drake fell to his knees. His body smoking. His face was a ruin of blisters and peeling skin. He tried to speak. His lips were fused shut though. He collapsed face-first onto the stone. Twitching.