"Begin."
Lynx moved first. A swift, arcing slash from overhead, meant to intimidate. Akito didn't budge. Instead, he sidestepped at the last possible moment, letting the sword whistle past him.
He turned with the motion, pivoting on his heel, and tapped Lynx's exposed ribs with the wooden blade.
"Point," Akito said simply.
Lynx growled and came in again, faster this time. Horizontal slash, followed by a feint and thrust.
Crude swing. No deception in the eyes. His weight's off-center—he's swinging too wide. Trying to force the fight, not guide it.
Akito's eye glinted. "Vector Analysis."
But Akito moved with a grace and calculation that made it all seem rehearsed. His eyes tracked each shift of Lynx's feet, the tension in his shoulders, the vector of each motion. Every time the noble struck, Akito was already moving—not away, but to the side, redirecting the force, parrying with the bare minimum of effort.
He wasn't flashy.
He was efficient.
'Crude swing. No deception in the eyes. His weight's off-center—he's swinging too wide. Trying to force the fight, not guide it.'
But Akito moved with a grace and calculation that made it all seem rehearsed. His eyes tracked each shift of Branton's feet, the tension in his shoulders, the vector of each motion. Every time the noble struck, Akito was already moving—not away, but to the side, redirecting the force, parrying with the bare minimum of effort.
He wasn't flashy.
He was efficient.
'He leads with his shoulders before his blade. Telegraphing every move. And no feints. Not even a delay step or shoulder dip. He's never had to fight someone smarter. Just stronger.'
"He's not just dodging," Nella murmured. "He's analyzing him. Every move."
Farren blinked. "That's kinda scary."
Lynx was panting now, his blows getting sloppier, more emotional. He swung hard, desperate to land a hit, and Akito responded with a light, almost lazy parry that spun the noble slightly off-balance.
"He's rushing. His blade control is collapsing. Easy to bait him into a full commitment."
"Getting heavy already huh? guess that's what only a genius could do for you." Akito keep pressuring him both physically and emotionally, playing both games at the same time, ensuring total control of the situation and condition to attain a perfect victory.
"Grrr... Youre gonna regret this" said Lynx Hoverwart
"And how would you make me regret?" Akito adds more fuel to his anger with his smirk and grin.
Then came the snap.
Lynx snarled and thrust his palm forward, a ripple of mana coiling around his arm. Blue light danced across his fingers.
"Magic is prohibited!" Velea shouted, but it was too late.
Akito's eyes widened.
Through the strange, golden-filtered lens of his Phi-shaped pupil, he saw it—the sudden acceleration in mana, the tension twisting into a point of release.
A spell. Time seemed to slow as conflicting thoughts raced through his mind.
Energy buildup... velocity shift... that's a projectile.
Kinetic burst. Directional. Could he really stop it? Should he even try?
Then, a soft and calm voice resonated in the arena.
"Newton's First Law of Motion, Inertia Lockdown."
Akito hesitated but then extended his hand, unsure if he could actually block it. The magic flared out—a compressed bolt of kinetic force, likely intended to knock him flat.
But it didn't. It stopped. Mid-air.
A ripple shimmered through space, almost invisible, like a heat haze. The bolt hovered there, vibrating, its momentum completely halted. Then it fizzled out. Gasps erupted all around. Even Instructor Velea looked stunned.
Akito stared at his hand, half in disbelief. "So... it works with magic, too," he murmured, wrestling with the implications of what he'd just done. Lynx gawked, eyes wide, utterly shocked. This was the first time anyone had ever witnessed a spell stopped midway. "What... what did you do?!"
Akito exhaled slowly, uncertainty still gnawing at him. He flipped the wooden sword once in his grip, letting it rest against his shoulder. "Just physics," he replied, though doubt lingered in his voice.
Through the strange, golden-filtered lens of his Phi-shaped pupil, he saw it—the sudden acceleration in mana, the tension twisting into a point of release.
And then, with no ceremony, he tossed the sword at Lynx.
Akito's eyes glowed once more, and using the same move as before
"Newton's First Law of Motion, Inertia Lockdown."
The launched sword flew just like a usual throw.
The wooden blade, imbued with invisible force through Akito's manipulation of inertia, shot through like an indestructible force.
Lynx instinctively raised his sword to block—a mistake.
The impact shattered his grip. His sword flew out of his hands and clattered far behind him. Akito's sword kept going and slammed into the stone wall at the back of the ring which then he deactivates it.
Had it been always active, it will just flew nonstop because the momentum carried by the sword is being isolated and nothing could interact with it.
Thunk.
Half the blade embedded itself into the stone.
A stunned silence followed.
Then Velea cleared her throat. "Match over. Lynx is disarmed."
Akito dusted off his hands. "Good game."
Lynx Hoverwart was shaking, rage barely contained behind his reddened face. His clenched jaw twitched, and his fingers trembled at his sides—not from exhaustion, but humiliation. Without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed off, his boots crunching hard against the gravel with every step.
As Akito stepped down from the sparring ring, the once-tense atmosphere slowly began to thaw. The silence cracked—not with thunderous applause, but with cautious murmurs and scattered whispers. A few students broke from the sidelines and approached him, hesitantly at first, like birds testing if the scarecrow had truly fallen.
"Hey," Farren called out, he was carrying a leather-bound spellbook clutched to his chest. "That was… insane. You really stopped that spell like it was nothing."
Nella nodded, awe plain on her face. "I thought you were done for after Lynx pulled out that firebolt. That thing tears shields in two."
Akito gave a small, almost embarrassed shrug. "I just… reacted."
He hadn't meant to draw attention. But something in their voices—their tone—carried a subtle shift. Before, they looked at him like he was glass waiting to crack. Now, like someone who could bend steel.
The curly-haired student leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Lynx is gonna hate you even more now. Not that anyone here's going to blame you."
Akito tilted his head. "Why's that?"
A third student chimed in—this one older, taller, with a pair of glasses slipping down his nose. "You're new, so you wouldn't know. Lynx Hoverwart is the son of Marquis Malloran. One of the major nobles on this province. That family line traces back to the Founding War. Apparently, his sister also attends to this academy with him at the 2nd tier on the first class."
Akito's golden eye narrowed slightly. "So… you mean that there are potential of revenge action taken against me? moreover they could give me pressure not from 1 person but 2 and presumably the academy itself?"
Nella replied passionately "I think it isn't that excessive, maybe Lynx or her sister Lysse. Even that is caused by Lynx himself pressuring his sister."
Akito gave a soft exhale, something between amusement and contemplation. "So there's a hierarchy here. Not just magical, but political."
The boy with glasses adjusted his frames. "Exactly. The Academy might claim neutrality, but make no mistake—status matters. Nobility gives power. Power protects reputation. And reputation, here, is currency."
Akito's gaze drifted toward the path Lynx had taken—still marked by the imprint of furious boots in the gravel.
From the edge of the field, a few observers had gathered during the fight—most of them still frozen in place. One leaned against a tall cedar tree, arms crossed but posture just a bit more upright than before. Professor Caldus Marrenvar, usually the picture of detached amusement, now had one brow faintly arched. His usual smirk faltered for a fraction of a second.
Beside him stood a young woman—her bearing poised, her uniform pristine, her silver hair braided so precisely it almost sparkled in the fading light. She was noble through and through, but in that moment, even her noble mask cracked.
Her violet eyes had widened—not in fear, but in something more dangerous.
Interest.
The spell had stopped mid-air. Just—stopped. No chant, no counterspell, no mana backlash. Just that boy—Akito—lifting his hand like he knew the very laws of the world and deciding they didn't apply today.
The young woman's lips parted slightly, an unconscious flicker of disbelief crossing her face. She spoke first, voice low but sharp. "So this is the apprentice that you've taken a liking to?"
Caldus gave a soft exhale through his nose, a quiet sound of approval. "Yes... It seems like the book is a real deal."
The girl didn't reply. Her gaze followed Akito, who now stood near the far end of the ring, casually dusting off his palms like he'd just finished setting a table, not disarming and disabling a noble-tier student.
She folded her gloved hands behind her back, slipping back into composed elegance, but her eyes glimmered again—this time sharper, more focused.
"Akito, huh? I'll remember that name." she said quietly.
Caldus turned to look at her, the ghost of his usual smirk returning. "I figured you would."
She didn't respond immediately. Her attention stayed locked on Akito's back as he started walking toward his classmates, his posture relaxed, almost lazy. But the image of that spell freezing in the air, suspended like time itself had lost interest, remained vivid in her mind.
He bent a rule of the world without flinching. Who even are you, Third Tier?
"Would you like to speak with him?" Caldus asked, watching her carefully.
"Not yet," she said. "But I'll be watching."
She turned on her heel and walked away, her stride graceful, precise, but with a little more purpose than before.
Caldus lingered, letting the breeze ruffle the hem of his robe. He looked back at Akito again, who was now being swarmed by classmates asking questions and throwing praise. The professor chuckled to himself, low and amused.
"Well, well," he murmured. "Looks like this year won't be so boring after all."