“Alternating between fireballs and fire waves, a very orthodox way of fighting. The amount of fireballs were fine and the switch-up between those spells were more rapid than expected. Indeed, he’s met the requirement of being a journeyman.” Pastim evaluated internally.

Then, out of nowhere, the tip of Kite’s estoc stabbed through the wall of fire.

This was something different! Blocking the estoc with his own, Pastim swiveled his hand and sent it away in a different direction.

“A masterful lunge. His foundation for swordsmanship is quite decent if he managed to keep his weapon on him. Wristwork like that is uncommon among those his age. Even more praiseworthy is how quickly he switches between magic and the sword. It’s almost as if he’s attacking with both in mind at the same time.” Pastim nodded in approval once again.

The match was rapidly becoming more and more interesting by the second. Whenever one person retreated, the other person would attack, and vice versa. Everyone, Pastim, the king, and the other spectators included, were astonished to see the wide repertoire of techniques Kite was displaying, whether it was in magic or swordsmanship. The spells, as numerous as they were, were rather simple. Fireball, Flame Wave, Fire Wall, Flame Hail, and Explosion, these were beginner or intermediate level fire spells, but they were used in perfection conjunction with his sword to ward off Pastim. All in all, this match was becoming more spectacular by the second.

The more he fought, the more Pastim felt pleased by his young opponent. Magic and sword came together in perfect unity to protect Kite from all harm. It was a level of combat that could only be achieved after an endless amount of training.

How in the world Her Highness, Princess Crazy, managed to train a Magiknight was beyond Pastim.

Regardless, Pastim was satisfied. A combat junky like him absolutely loved fighting against a never-before-seen opponent such as Kite. By now, the adrenaline coursing through his body was already bringing him to a high that made him forget this was supposed to be an examination. Gradually, his estoc picked up in speed and ferocity and began to push Kite back. Each blow was becoming harder and harder for Kite to block.

Seeing their companion in trouble, Elric and Belladonna began to ready their own spells to aid him.

A beam of energy shot out from Pastim’s estoc, flames dancing all around it before lighting Kite up into fire. Like a flash fire, Kite was set ablaze faster than any of the nearby magi could react. They had neither the time to cancel the barrier or have the two magisters near the king cast a water spell to extinguish the flames.

Fortunately for Kite, Elric was prepared. A spell circle exploded into view beneath Kite’s feat, creating a semi-transparent wall of crystals to surround and protect him. This was the special spell taught to Elric by the demon known as “Chaos Bulwark”.

The light from this spell circle intensified once the circle made contact with the barrier fueled by the outside magi. The barrier trembled before shattering in a thousand pieces and delivered onto Elric a powerful shock as if burnt by lightning. But it was done, the Chaos Crystal Wall had protected Kite from further harm. It wasn’t like a water spell that doused the flames, but it somehow managed to cause the fires to go out all at once, leaving the steaming and prone figure of Kite on the ground.

The next to fall was Elric, his body trembling and his face entirely without color. Something like a powerful stab of pain had shot up his spine and sent a searing pain equivalent to a fire through him as if he was the one being burned instead of Kite.

He’d have to ask Monster about this spell later.

But no one was paying attention to Elric. All eyes were on Kite and Belladonna as she worked furiously with healing magic and first aid to treat him.

A High Priest came running onto the scene shortly afterward, but everyone was still attentively watching the miraculous magic Belladonna was casting.

Right before their very eyes, the burn wounds on Kite’s body were knitting and repairing themselves! And Kite was already starting to awaken!

To see Kite on the path of recovery left Pastim in a state of relief. “You are the most promising knight I’ve ever seen.” He praised as he helped Kite to his feet. “One day, you’ll rise beyond even me.”

And that was when everyone noticed the unfortunate Elric. When everyone was already returning to some semblance of normalcy in mood.

When the king ordered the two to be brought to another room to rest, Belladonna and Jerry were quick to excuse themselves. Elric and Kite’s injuries would be best dealt with by Belladonna, after all.

Only when the four of them were gone did the king turn to his chancellors. “Now that we have witnessed their strengths, let us begin our discussion.”

The Paladin Pastim stood up to start, “I believe there is nothing lacking at all from Kite as a knight. Everyone saw how he combined both magic and martial skill together. I’ve never even heard of any other knight being able to do such a thing.”

“Let us remember that Elric. For as pitiful he was, his spell was able to break our barrier. His injuries in return fails to disprove his power.” One of the magi responsible for the barrier nodded.

“And that young lass with the strange magic. Her healing capabilities exceeds even that of a priest when aided with a healing tool. I must add that her healing is greater than even the greater light magic spell ‘Divine Protection’,” A high-ranking priest added.

And so aside from Jerry, who hadn’t an opportunity to show what he could do, all the officials agreed that these students were of satisfactory stock.

“Gentlemen, does it seem peculiar that we have never seen some of their magic or their usage of it before?” inquired the queen.

“Yes, it does indeed. Aunt Crazy must be a talented teacher.” The prince praised, “But how shall we distribute their assignments? It appears simple to assign some, but that Elric—disgrace could fall upon us if he isn’t carefully placed.”

The court broke out into laughter at the thought of Elric’s embarrassing faux pas earlier.

“That one can be disciplined by that uncouth bumpkin.” The princess suggested.

Elric woke up the next day with a missive from the king assigning him to a mercenary squad.

Luggage in hand and directions given by the guard, Elric headed west of the village where the mercenary camp was situated. It was a nice hillside with a beautiful landscape and multiple trees that spanned across the hillside like a forest, though it wasn’t nearly as dark as the Forest of Illusions had been. Flowers and fauna grew everywhere along the surface of the hill; there was even a river that flowed through the camp.

The head of the camp was a middle-aged man named Charle. A man of repute, but also a man oft described by the princess as being a ‘bumpkin’. His face was wrinkled more so than others his age and his hands were covered entirely with calluses. And his personality—rough at the edges and boorish. Elric wasn’t used to it. But it wasn’t like he was in any position to criticize.

He had been told what had happened while he was unconscious. The events that transpired during their examination, most particularly about his mistake. Already, his story was being passed around the city and his name along with it. Many knew him now as the personal property of Princess Crazy and his new moniker of the ‘Six Disgraces’.

The shame of it all made Elric want to change his name almost.

But time tempered his shame and he quickly fell into the flow of things. Everyone within the camp was unexpectedly nice-hearted fellows, Charle included. They almost reminded Elric of the uncles back in his hometown.

That peace didn’t last long. Charle, knowing that Elric’s mission was soon to begin, gathered everyone in the camp to begin a special training session.

The first lesson: running.

A cross-legged Elric sat on top of the grassy hillside. Leaning backward to rest against his wool blanket, he let his feet rest against the grass. He was sleepy, but he couldn’t sleep just yet. It wasn’t even noon yet.

Farther away, Charle sat on top of a large box. Whatever was inside, Elric didn’t know.

“Oi, brats. Living’s a matter of how fast or how long ye can run. For us mercs, being able to survive on the battlefield’s what we call having guts. So start running,” Charle barked.

He wrapped the box on one of its corners, causing it to break apart when a dozen snapping dogs bounded out.