At first glance, Rourke and the spirit master seemed evenly matched. But Rourke knew he was being pushed back, and he was inwardly panicking.
The reason was simple: the sheer weight of each strike, the difference in power.
It wasn’t a matter of skill but something more fundamental—the difference in output between a temporary contract and a full spirit contract.
Of course, the grade of the sword spirit also played a role, but the fact that the spirit master was fully contracted meant he could unleash his power to its fullest, putting Rourke at a disadvantage.
“You’re good! I didn’t think there’d be a student who could cross swords with me without a contracted spirit!”
“Shut up!”
With a cheerful voice, the spirit master launched a flurry of crimson slashes aimed at Rourke’s vitals. Rourke deflected them left and right, countering with a slash aimed at the spirit master’s torso. But it was redirected by a crimson blade coming from the side.
Rourke knew his attack would be blocked. So, instead of panicking, he activated a spirit technique, wrapping his left hand in wind blades and thrusting it toward the spirit master’s right shoulder.
“Too naive!”
“!?”
But the spirit master, as if he had anticipated Rourke’s move, calmly caught the attack with his left hand.
Rourke froze for a moment. The spirit master didn’t miss the opening, swinging his sword to cleave the boy in two—
“Holy Lance.”
The moment the spirit master’s movement stopped completely, a clear voice rang out, and two lances of light shot toward him from behind.
Judging that he couldn’t dodge, the spirit master used his crimson sword as a shield to block the lances, but he couldn’t withstand their force and was sent flying backward.
“More troublesome than I expected, this bandit.”
“…Yeah, thanks for the backup.”
As Misha approached, accompanied by a beautiful angel, Rourke expressed his gratitude with a small sigh.
That was close. He knew Misha was providing support, but it was still nerve-wracking.
“Can we win?”
“If you keep backing me up like that, sure.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
Misha nodded calmly as Rourke spoke, and the angel created multiple spheres of light around them.
Each sphere was filled with a tremendous amount of spiritual energy, and Rourke silently marveled at the angel’s strength.
—Glad she’s on our side.
Rourke couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for having fought someone like Misha during the ranking match.
“By the way, Rourke-Areas, did you notice?”
“About that sword spirit?”
“Yes, that’s—”
Misha cut off mid-sentence and turned her gaze behind her. There, as if he had returned unnoticed, stood the spirit master who had just been blown away.
“Is it proper for a princess of a nation to face a bandit like this!?”
“I have no intention of falling behind someone like you, and it’s not a problem. Besides—”
Rourke stepped in, blocking the spirit master’s blade as it swung toward Misha.
“I have reliable guards.”
“If you want to touch the princess, you’ll have to go through me first!”
“I see!”
As the spirit master tried to disengage, his right leg wouldn’t move, and he stumbled. When he looked down, he saw that his leg was buried in the ground.
As the spirit master forcefully pulled his leg free, a chill ran down his spine. He looked up to see the angel releasing the spheres of light toward him, and in an instant, his vision was filled with light.
“Hah”
Bathed in the brilliance of violence, he showed no sign of panic. On the contrary, he welcomed it with a grin, effortlessly dodging every attack with flawless movements. But just as he avoided one strike, an angel with white wings spread wide swung its radiant sword down upon him without mercy.
“Did we get him this time?”
“Princess, you shouldn’t say that. That’s a survival flag.”
As the dazzling light and impact shook the ground, Misha murmured, while Rourke, now accompanied by an earth spirit, gave her a wry smile and corrected her words.
“Ouch… yeah, that one actually hurt.”
Sure enough, a man stepped out of the cloud of dust, looking completely unscathed despite his words. Rourke frowned.
The man was covered in wounds, and Misha had held back a little to keep him restrained. Yet, even after taking a direct hit from the angel’s attack, he was still standing—completely unharmed. It was unsettling.
“So, you’re Rourke Areas?”
“And if I am?”
Rourke furrowed his brows as the man suddenly called his name. Why was he confirming his identity? What was his goal?
“No, I was just impressed you fought this well without even summoning a contracted spirit. But if it’s you, it makes sense. It was in the records, after all.”
“…What?”
Rourke scowled again at the self-satisfied response. What the hell is this guy talking about?
“And now that I look at you more closely… Hmm.”
“Huh? What are you—”
Before Rourke could question him further, the man interrupted, as if coming to a conclusion on his own.
“In that case… I should probably back off now.”
He turned his gaze toward Rourke and Misha.
“Two high-risk individuals. A dragon spirit on top of that. My objective is complete. No need to get hurt for nothing. I’ll be taking my leave.”
“Do you really think we’ll let you escape?”
Misha narrowed her sharp eyes at his words. Above her, the angel gripped its sword of light. It was clear—she was ready to go all out.
“My apologies, Princess. But I will be leaving now. Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
With a courteous bow, the spirit master bid farewell. At that moment, the angel moved, swinging its sword of light straight at his head.
The radiant blade obliterated the ground where he stood, the sheer force blowing away everything in its path. But despite its power, there was no satisfying impact—no sign of a direct hit.
“He got away.”
“Damn, that was fast…”
Misha sighed as she stared at the empty crater.
Beside her, Rourke had seen the man dodge the sword and flee. Yet, he made no move to pursue.
At that speed, chasing him was impossible. And besides, there was no need—this wasn’t their fight to finish. Given how powerful that man was, they wouldn’t be scolded for letting him go.
“I had hoped we could settle this ourselves… but it can’t be helped. We’ll leave the rest to them.”
Misha glanced at the small messenger bird perched on her shoulder before gazing in the direction the spirit master had fled, murmuring softly.
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“Man, for a student, he was strong. Kind of terrifying, really.”
As he ran through the vast grounds of Eutrea Academy, the spirit master, Haunted, recalled the two students he had just fought.
Misha was royalty—that much made sense. But the real issue was Rourke. His swordsmanship matched Haunted’s own. His spirit arts were precise. And most importantly, he combined both seamlessly in battle. For a student, his combat style was frighteningly practical. And more than anything…
“If I had the chance, I’d like to fight him again and confirm something…”
Haunted had chosen to escape this time—he couldn’t afford to stay. But if given the opportunity, he wanted another match with Rourke.
After all, Rourke hadn’t even shown his full strength. The fact that he hadn’t summoned a contracted spirit was proof of that.
Lost in thought, Haunted shook his head. He had a bad habit of focusing too much on fighting. Right now, he needed to focus on getting out of the academy and delivering his report.
Leaping onto a tree branch, he prepared to jump over the academy walls—
“Gah!?”
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning pierced his right leg.
His body tensed as pain shot through him, and he lost balance, falling to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look up—
“Nice shot, Lily.”
“It stinks.”
Before him stood a man exhaling purple smoke from a cigarette—Kyle Madison. Beside him, a girl—Lily Oraria—frowned, clearly irritated by the smoke. Behind them, a massive water spirit, resembling a cross between a serpent and a dragon, loomed.
“Well, well. Hello there, trespasser.”
“Haha… How polite of you.”
As Kyle greeted him with a smirk, Haunted slowly stood up.
“And you are…?”
“The teacher of the students you just messed with. And hers, too.”
“Ah, I see. A teacher.”
Muttering, Haunted summoned Vlad once again, gripping it tightly. Kyle took a step forward. At the same time, Lily summoned a giant clam-like spirit beside her.
“Showing up after your students got beaten up? That’s some pretty bad teaching.”
“Oh, come on, give me a break. My job is to teach my subject and do my own research. Besides, I leave most fights to the security gargoyles and the disciplinary committee.”
“Isn’t that a bit too harsh?”
“What are you talking about? If they’re going down this path, they need to get used to trouble early on.”
Kyle let out another puff of smoke, looking exasperated.
Most of the students in the disciplinary committee aimed to join the Kingdom’s Spirit Master Corps. If that was their goal, then they should at least be capable of protecting their own school.
“But… yeah, I’ll admit, this time was a bit much for them. And for some reason, even the security gargoyles didn’t move. Guess you planned that, huh?”
“Well, that wasn’t my doing, so I can’t comment on that. But—”
“Hm?”
With a smirk, Haunted declared,
“Too bad, but even a teacher like you is no match for me.”
“…Hah”
Kyle laughed, tossing his cigarette into a portable ashtray.
“Wanna test that theory?”
“Looks like you won’t let me leave easily. Fine, I’ll play along for a bit.”
“Lily, just set up a mirage and stay back.”
As a thick mist spread from Lily’s spirit, obscuring their surroundings, spirit energy surged from both men’s contracted spirits. The air grew heavy.
“Go, Mizuchi.”
“Strike, Vlad.”
At the edge of the academy grounds, two spirit masters clashed.
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