The next second was the one where everything changed.

Focusing solely on the two figures he knew would attack, Harux was blind to the fact that it was all a part of Lucius’s plan. As in the next shuffle that arrived, the bar of footballers flicked up.

“Heh.” Lucius had never planned to attack with either of the two in the first place, even if that only left one other option available…

No, it can’t be!

What came next would require the most intricate of skills, the lion’s share of accuracy, and godlike precision, with the speed that it went at being nothing short of a blemish at best, the audience knew what Lucius had in mind, and yet, refused to believe it.

Is he really? From their perspective, the path forward was obvious, all the while being utterly obscure at the same time.

There is a reason why things are the way they are, and yet, one can not help but attach the hefty hooks of logic all the while to it, for it was the plainness of the one answer which remained that struck the biggest cord.

If we were to draw parallels, for ease of mind and ease of relatability, then let it be done with the concept of a friend, one who by all means is someone you trust, one that when offering words of advice and nods of comfort have proven to be out of the genuine altruism of their hearts, and not deception. And now let us imagine, that for whatever reason there may be, that this friend takes you to the border of a chasm, and simply smiles.

You would be forgiven for thinking they were going to go commit suicide, or stuff your body in a bush, but now let us say that this friend not only rebukes your worries, and possesses the merit to not do so, but instead, longingly looks to what laid on the other side of the chasm.

You know it is a impossible task that they have set upon themselves, and so the faint notion that this is all but a joke creeps in, but their expression says otherwise, as you are met with none other than their stare, and a reminder of the credo they stood on, for you know they always had a love for the impossible, for the literal and figurative chasm that they could not cross, and that they now, they would.

The ball, in a moment, had shifted from being the property of one of two figures in the line, to being in front of the one that stood at the very end.

And with a kick, it propelled itself forward.

“Heh, that was a cool trick Lucius!”

What? Had Harux managed to devise a counter to the tic-tac procedure?

The answer right in front of his face, his eyes still refused to accept the truth. That being that Harux, in the nick of time had blocked it with his goalkeeper, and the ball, mere inches away from victory, had been trapped between the space between the goal and the wall next to it.

The ball flies way too straight… Pondering his next course of action, Harux’s face lit up before he began to move his pieces again, passing the ball to the front row diagonally.

Huh? This monkey is… passing? How could Harux, a simpleminded brute, pass the opportunity to kick the ball towards his post in a straight line in favor of some kind of strategy? Perhaps this was some sort of mind game? One designed to shake his psyche with confusing movements no doubt.

Anticipating an attack from the front, Lucius anxiously moved his keeper to the middle of the goalpost, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

He realized what was going on too late. Having transferred the ball all the way to the leftmost player on the front row, Harux now kicked the ball with a slight, yet vigorous twirl while simultaneously moving his player left. The result was that the ball, having struck the left wall diagonally, departed it in the same way, the mass of steel speeding towards Lucius.

How easily the tables turned, as Lucius, in the scramble to defend his goal, realized that it was impossible to do so in time. A fundamental flaw in his gameplan, approaching the game as it were any normal ‘table football’ setup was nothing short of foolish, as the goalpost, quite a bit wider in an effort to make the game more interesting, necessitated the viewing of it through a different angle.

In the end Lucius could only watch helplessly as the ball’s penetrating agility delved into the blind angle of his defenseless goal post, its perforation resulting in the uproar of the spectators at hand, who, thrilled over the rise of the underdog, leaned in even further.

Once again with his hand over the stadium, his fingers, this time with a longer pause than usual, gathered the opinions of the class with a visual assessment.

Peculiar, there lies some deviation from usual happiness variables, though I do wonder…

Just when are they going to discover the true essence of this game?

Dropped yet again, Lucius even before the ball would hit the ground, initiated.

“Windwave.”

For the first time ever, spellcraft had been brought into play, as Lucius, his hands underneath the table, had already begun his somatic gestures.

White energy lighting up in the small transparent vial that laid in the heart of the middle figure, it was in fact none other than a mere showing of the element of magic being channeled through it. That being, wind a wave of energy burst out, and in a perfectly calculated manner, would send the ball straight into Harux’s goal.

Scrambling to defend his post, Harux opted to knock the ball away to the sides in favor of blocking.

Heh, so that’s how you're gonna play? Bring it on then, Harux thought, activating a spell of his own as he discreetly folded his right pinky inward.

Professor Haus, having spotted the gesture, blinked owlishly. Slightly taken aback at the fact that Lucius had not realized the ploy Harux was up to, he wondered about the circumstances behind the boy’s education. While he did not blame him due to lack of experience, it was common knowledge that not all spells in the elvish system held the same means and methods of activation, with some needing only a simple utterance, others a meticulous ritual taking up to days, and some not even requiring words at all.

Swoosh.

Having caught the ball by pressing down on it, Harux’s front row stopped moving. Weirdly, Harux’s second row began to spin furiously at the same time.

Is he going to launch the ball back from the second row so that I can’t predict where it's coming from? Lucius thought. Little did he know, however, that the ball was heading for his post at this moment, its advance concealed by a blanket of illusion enveloping his side of the board and silenced by the loud whirring noise Harux made with his own.

Simple Illusion.

A basic spell corresponding to the magical School of Illusion that even the most insignificant of mages could cast, while it was incapable of creating moving objects, much less sounds, the insignificant amount of mana it consumed still gave it some utility.

It was an exceedingly simple, yet extremely effective strategy, one that if used even once, would throw the opponent into disarray as they continuously doubted what stood in front of them.

Merely observing the caster’s hand would be ineffective as well. Since a spell would not be cast unless mana was channeled into it, the caster could use this against his opponent to bluff them into thinking that he used the spell.

Haus, impressed by this sheer display of wit, saw potential, for whatever intellectual tact the boy lacked, he had more than made up for in clever schemes and gambits...

A glimmer of hope snuggled in his mind, he spawned the idea that Harux’s incompetence at times was not rooted in some mental disability but rather, the simple lack of exposure to adequate information, something which in the long run, could be arranged.

Perhaps sensing that something was wrong, Lucius moved his own players to anticipate the incoming attack, only to find that his players did not move, no matter how much mana he channeled.

No, it wasn’t that they weren’t moving, he could certainly feel his own players vibrating as they spun. If so, there was really only one possible explanation, one that he realized far too late as a loud clack reverberated from his own post.

A cheer erupting from the audience, they expressed their excitement with a show of hands and words of encouragement.

With one more point being allocated to Harux, Lucius’s brain rummaged through all of its contents, looking for anything, any bit of wisdom that could offer even the faintest of advantages.

And that was when he realized that the game was over.

Everyone now seemingly dismissed, the students now in possession of their cool and mind, had begun to leave the class, while offering quaint ‘thank yous’ and waves of their hands all the while.

Morgana, who herself had been a part of the class and crowd, had also begun to leave, without offering so much as a turn of her head to Lucius while doing so. After that, Lucius, in a strive to catch up to her, found himself stopped by none other than the teacher.

“Lucius.” Professor Haus called out, beckoning the boy to stay.

“Yes?”

“I have called you for reasons pertaining to your ability.”

“Ability?”

From Lucius’s perspective, Professor Haus was referring to the game that had just occurred.

“Yes, are you aware of what ‘Bhavana’ is?”

“No, I am not.”

“That much was evident from your game earlier.”

If that was the case why did he ask?

“As it is my duty as a professor to ensure the continued success of my students, I ask that you come tomorrow with your exo-suit, at five o six, in front of Koben’s workshop, I shall be wearing my current attire, and will routinely flash a violet laser at intervals of five minutes upwards.”

At a loss of his teacher’s words, Lucius could only nod.

“Do you understand my words? If so, nod again.”

“I understand sir,” Lucius replied, while nodding.

“The nod is unnecessary, but thank you for the confirmation, you may now leave.” Haus responded, a sincere bow of thanks following after.

Finding the whole ordeal quite odd, Lucius wasted no time leaving the classroom, with a hurried yet proper posture. I mean, wasn’t he the one who asked him to nod in the first place?

“Now then.”

With that out of the way, he could finally focus on other things.

For it was only when all the students had finally left the class was when Professor Haus would finally go back to his desk. It was unfitting of a man of his position to not wave goodbye and part the students with farewells after all, such a thing could be perceived as ill-mannered, disrupt serotonin production, and thereby result in the downplaying of their results in class.

It was only logical, really.

And yet, for a man that so reticent on manners of such ilk, he was unable to shake the uneasiness that was in his heart. Harux Y'saanith… Something about it struck a chord with him, something that felt like he should’ve been able to explain, and yet wasn’t.

Fighting down the desire to just run back out and call the boy, Haus instead opted for the more civilized option, his computer. While it had been difficult to learn how to use one in the beginning, he quickly understood it to be a tool that with its many functions, could be used to increase work efficiency.

Keys pressed down at the rhythm of a grandpa, the words ‘Harux Y'saanith’ slowly etched itself onto the screen, only to be erased, Y'saanith was sufficient enough, he thought. The essence of efficient communication lay in conveying just the right amount of information in a concise manner, a principle that was applicable even to a search engine.

Index finger on the enter key, he pressed it.

A few seconds in passing, the pixels on his screen now revealed what he needed, at a speed that neither he himself could have comprehended, he felt his feet sink into the floor below. Unable to hold himself any longer, he got up, fastened his cravat and left.

Whatever it was that ran through Rainee’s mind when he had recruited Harux, he needed to verify. And though he doubted anything truly terrible would come out of it, he was also the type that never let an anomaly slip past him, especially one that could result in lives lost as a consequence.