Fallen Mage Regressor

The open field chirped with the sounds of a half-dozen species of bugs. Overhead and off to the side, the leaves rustled as the spring breeze played upon them like wind chimes.

”This is the most important class that you will ever have. This isn’t hyperbole, this isn’t a joke. I mean it.”

Mal resisted the urge to squirm. Philo and Nima had fully given in to the sensation of pressure and were slouching their backs and taking a few steps backward. Rolam, admirably, had managed to stand up straight and was looking at Vigil with a level gaze. Despite this, his hands were shaking.

Mal took a sniff of the air. Unaligned magic. All of it emanating out of one person—Vigil. He was either consciously or unconsciously amassing mana in such a way that it was creating a sort of pressure on his surroundings.

Mal had used this trick on members of his army who’d gotten unruly. It only really worked with people who were significantly weaker than you. If you were only moderately weaker, you would be able to ignore the sensation.

Vigil cast a quick glance over the gathered student body. He once again nodded at Mal. Mal was starting to get a little bit worried by all this nodding. If the plan was to avoid attracting attention, he was failing magnificently at it.

It was only now that he realized he should’ve awkwardly buckled like the rest of the students around him.

Vigil stiffened and shot out his hand to the right.

Mana gathered at the tips of his fingers and an explosion went off in a tree. A bunch of birds squawked and flew out in a random direction.

He grimaced and coughed into his hand. ”Apologies, I thought I saw something.”

Okay, my combat professor thinks that a bunch of birds are a lethal threat that warrants an explosion. That’s not concerning.

Then again, Mal had survived this man’s class the first timeline, so surely he would survive the second time.

”Exodi Academy is primarily known to the world as a wizard’s academy,” Vigil said. ”This is a misconception. Exodi Academy was formed first and foremost as a combat school. Wizardry is the most powerful form of combat, which is why that’s what is focused upon here. However, that is not the only thing you will be learning. You will be learning how to wrestle, how to strike. How to leverage every single resource at your disposal.”

He reached out to the ground and vines snapped out and wrapped around his arm. He held it up to the students and motioned at it with his face.

”This is Bramblevine,” Vigil ripped it off of his arm, revealing flashes of metal underneath the damaged robes. The Bramblevine flopped to the ground. ”An enormously common parasitic magical plant, a great deal of wizards make a lot of money doing nothing but removing these off of people’s properties. They’re annoying, but they’re not lethal. You’ll hurt if you fall into a patch of them, but most people will be able to wiggle their way out of the situation.”

Mal sniffed the air. Mana? A mix of unaligned and plant-type, its smell roughly similar to freshly cut grass.

He stomped on the Bramblevine, a flash of mana erupting from his feet and shattering the whole plant into shreds.

”I want you to imagine a fight between two wizards. In a moment of quick thinking, the first manages to knock the second off balance and into a patch of Bramblevine. The second one is trapped for an extra second. That’s victory for the first wizard. In that split second, the first wizard will be able to cast any spell at their leisure.”

Mal could already tell where Vigil was going with this.

“The way magic is traditionally taught is as such,” Vigil said. “Magic overcomes physical attacks. A simple shield will block most magic, except in cases where the level of magical difference is absurdly great. And a physical attack pierces through all but the mightiest shields.”

Vigil scoffed. “A foolish oversimplification.”

”Everything is a weapon.” Vigil’s tone dropped to a frigid, ice-cold temperature. ”And you do whatever it takes to win. You use whatever you have, you take every advantage, no matter how dirty, no matter how disgraceful. And you get out of the fight alive, with your opponent stuck six feet under the ground. That’s the idea behind this class, that’s the idea behind Exodi Academy. Everything that we do here is oriented toward that goal. Making sure that you win.”

Mal looked down at his feet and noticed that a little bit of Bramblevine had wrapped around his shoes. He looked to his left and right, noticed that no one was looking, and then ripped it out of the ground and stashed it in his bag.

Although it was a little bit strange, he wasn’t thinking so much of the environmental hazard properties of the Bramblevine so much as he was thinking of other uses for the vine.

He couldn’t help but think of his theories that he’d spoken of in magic theory. If he could find a way to channel the mana of Bramblevine outward, could he mimic its effects with other plants?

”Here’s the trouble.”

Mal looked up at Vigil.

”I need to get a grasp of all of your current combat abilities so that this course can be sufficiently optimized for you and where you’re at,” Vigil said. ”And that means a good old-fashioned spar.”

Mal perked up. A spar? Sure, Mal would’ve preferred the real thing, but this wasn’t bad at all.

”Pair up with someone not from your circle.” Vigil’s glare tightened. ”I don’t care what you use to determine who’s paired up. Draw straws, flip a coin—just do it in a timely manner.”

Nima looked between Mal and the other students uncertainly. After a few seconds, he sighed and walked over to a random stranger. Rolam and Philo remained locked in each other’s glares. Their hands were twitching, and it was abundantly clear that they disagreed with Vigil’s rule about inter-team fighting. Unfortunately, they didn’t make the rules. Philo was the first one to break their staring contest with a grunt and turned to look around for another suitable partner. Rolam’s lips lifted up in triumph.

Mal turned around just in time to come face-to-face with Hypode.

Mal blinked. ”Oh, Hypode. Are you doing okay? I know that the injury looked pretty bad.”

The words had slipped out before Mal could stop himself. The funniest thing was that he wasn’t even trying to be mean—he was genuinely wondering if Hypode had fully recovered.

Hypode, of course, didn’t know that. His teeth ground together and his nails dug into his palms.

”Malfrasius,” Hypode’s every word was tightly controlled. ”What a pleasure to see you. I’m… surprised that you made it in.”

”I’m not.”

Hypode laughed like a strangled coyote and wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. ”Oh, Malfrasius, you’re such a jokester. Hilarious, even.” His tone dropped into a low timbre and he reached out and grabbed Malfrasius’s shoulder. ”Say, I was thinking we could partner. A friendly spar, get all that bad blood between us out of the way.”

”I think you’re the only one who ended up bleeding during that last encounter—”

Hypode’s hand tightened to a vice grip. ”This is a yes or no question, Malfrasius.”

A few students had taken notice of the encounter. Nima and Philo were rapidly shaking their heads at Mal. Rolam shot him a thumbs-up.

Mal shrugged. ”Sure, why not.”

Hypode’s grip loosened and he shot Mal a cheery smile. ”I’m so glad to hear that you could see reason. I look forward to our fight.”

After everybody had been paired up, Vigil had them all stand in a line with their paired partner. He then took the first five and spread them out on the field. When he gave the word, the fight started.

For the most part, Mal wasn’t particularly impressed. Granted, he should’ve expected that, given the fact that these were all eighteen-year-olds. But still, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Even without his magic, he would be able to take out any one of the fools here.

There were a few flashes of insight from some of the students. A handful of them took advantage of the fact that Vigil hadn’t outlined any rules, fleeing from the fight to go use the trees as cover, or starting the match before Vigil had even given the word. When students had protested this, Vigil had simply turned and glared at them, confirming that this was indeed intended, not a mistake.

After they went through the first five pairs, the next set came up. This group was of particular interest to Mal due to the existence of four people within it: Rolam, Philo, Nima, and Savaly.

Mal had been hoping that his circle mates would be more competent, especially given their performance during the entrance exam. Mal was going to have to get used to getting disappointed.

Rolam had only been able to fire off one arcane sphere at the very start of the match. After that, all his spells ended up fizzling.

Philo was able to fire off a few spells, but whatever gods that had blessed him during his first spell appeared to have left him, because every single spell that he’d shot off—whether it’d been his natural fire breath, an arcane sphere, or a simple fire bolt—every single one of them missed spectacularly.

Nima was perhaps the most pathetic out of them all, and that was really saying something. He’d been reduced to running around like a headless chicken, his opponent shouting curses and yelling for him to come back.

Mal’s thoughts were broken by the sound of a loud whir.

He looked over and his eyes widened at what he was seeing. Savaly had summoned two arcane spheres and was manipulating them through the air with perfect ease and grace. One crashed into the ground right next to her opponent, while another one went for her opponent’s head. The other student jumped clear, sweat glistening and panic in his eyes.

Savaly’s eyes flashed and the arcane spheres shot forward. The student was helpless and was hit with both at the same time in the leg and arm. A sick crunch rang out and the student flopped to the ground.

Vigil ran over to the student and checked his pulse. After a second, he looked up toward the watching students.

”He’s okay!” he shouted. ”Don’t worry, he’ll live.”

He turned to Savaly. ”That was excellent work, girl. Perhaps a bit excessive, but I understand that you wanted me to appreciate just how strong you are. We’ll find appropriate opponents for you, don’t worry.”

Savaly smiled a perfectly innocent smile, regal and gentle and completely unsuited for her face after she had just brutally broken someone’s leg and presumably knocked his shoulder out of its socket.

”Thank you, Professor Vigil,” she said. ”Your words of praise are much appreciated.”

She walked to join the other students who had finished their sparring. They noticeably backed away and cleared a path for her. She turned around and looked over at all of the spectators. When her eyes came to Mal’s, she stopped.

Her smile widened by a fraction of an inch before she looked back at the fights that were still ongoing.

Or, at least, they were supposed to be ongoing. They’d all stopped and stared at Savaly in open astonishment.

”Did I tell you to stop?” Vigil shouted. ”You can’t allow yourself to get distracted for a single moment! Get back to it!”

The fights roared to life. By the end of it, Rolam and Nima had lost rather magnificently, while Philo had managed to eke out a bare win. Vigil had seemingly looked at them with disappointment before he called for them to move to the back and for the next batch to come up.

Hypode bumped Mal with his shoulder and shot him an ice-cold glare. ”That’s us, partner.”

He looked back toward the field and continued walking. Mal followed behind him.

”Let me make something clear. You don’t deserve to be here. I don’t know how you cheated, or who you bribed to get in—I don’t even blame you for doing so. For an F-rank like you, this is probably the greatest honor of your life. Unfortunately, just as you must act in your nature, I must act in my own. Right here, right now, I’m going to expose you for what you are. A fraud. There’s no way you could’ve gotten second place—are you listening to me?”

Mal jolted up out of his thoughts. ”Sorry, what were you saying?”

Hypode’s neck tensed and he made a sound that roughly approximated a boiling teapot. ”Listen to me when I’m talking, you absolute buffoon—” he paused and took a slow, strange breath. ”Okay, you know what? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time trying to talk to someone who probably has all the intelligence of a cockroach. Let’s just get this over with.”

Hypode held out his palm and an arcane sphere flashed into existence. But to Mal’s surprise, Hypode didn’t immediately throw it. Instead, he waited.

Oh, he learned from our last encounter. He’s going to try to go for the wait-and-see approach. Smart.

For a first-year student. And… for being Hypode in general. Mal honestly hadn’t been expecting him to change his tactics in the slightest manner, so this was a pleasant surprise.

The question was, how should Mal respond?

Mal was half tempted to just crack his skull again, but he didn’t want to attract any attention—and fighting physically, then winning physically in the first thirty seconds, would definitely do that.

There were similar problems with trying to summon an arcane sphere. It would take him a long while, and the whole time, he’d be dodging around Hypode’s movements.

So what about losing?

Mal didn’t like losing, of course, but he’d do that if that was the best option. In his younger years, he would’ve had too much pride to allow himself to lose, but he’d long since grown up from such a childish attitude.

The problem was that…

Mal could feel the gazes glaring into his back. He already had their attention. Savaly herself was probably looking at him. And of course she was—he was the second-placer! If he lost too easily, that would raise even more questions. How had his performance on the exam been so exemplary when his combat was so disastrous?

Hypode’s eyes narrowed and he took a single step forward, arcane sphere still holding steady in his palm.

The seconds ticked by. Mal’s 400 IQ megamind worked at light speed to find a solution that would work.

Losing… with style.

Mal couldn’t lose in such a way that it would cast further suspicion upon him. But what if he lost in a dramatic way? A way that made it so that everything fit together in a nice puzzle pattern?

Mal is a mediocre mage at best who just happened to get lucky on the entrance exam. Then, during combat class, he gave his all and put up a halfway decent fight. In the end, Hypode defeated him and exposed him for the fraud that he was. Interest would rapidly wane in Mal and in Mal’s abilities once this truth came out.

The perfect end to an ignoble arc in Mal’s life.

Hypode took another step forward. Gosh, he was really taking his time with this, wasn’t he?

All right, Mal. You can do this. Lose, but make it seem like you’re giving your all.

Mal broke off into a sprint directly toward Hypode. Hypode’s eyes shot wide open and the arcane sphere flew forward. Mal smoothly dodged to the right and it flew past his ear with a sharp buzz.

Mal reached into his satchel and felt the Bramblevine wrap around his hand.

Quickly thinking, he remembered what the professor had done to remove it. He’d just ripped it off with his other hand, but Mal wasn’t quite as certain he would be able to pull off the same trick.

A flash of understanding. The professor hadn’t just ripped it off, he channeled mana into his hand, and that seemed to repel the Bramblevine.

Mal also distinctly recalled how plant-type mana had flared out after the professor had channeled mana outward.

Mal thought back to the incident with the Tungstenbird, when he’d summoned the arcane sphere and the steel-type mana had added itself to his spell.

What happened in that moment?

Somehow, someway his spell had… for lack of a better word, resonated with the steel-type mana and added some sort of sharpness property to the spell.

Perhaps that works in reverse. If all magical structures have a resonance, what if I can match my mana to that resonance and manipulate the structure in the same way that the steel manipulated my own magical structure?

His feet continued to beat against the ground. He only had a few seconds to test his little theory. He hoped that this would work, otherwise he would have Bramblevine stuck to his arm for the rest of the match.

He reached into his core and circulated unaligned mana to touch the Bramblevine’s exterior. It twitched, but didn’t come off.

Wait, but that’s what the professor did—

No, he’d used something else… but what? What other source of mana could he use?

His natural aligned mana?

As long as it didn’t touch his core and he was careful, that might work. He followed through with his plan and—

Something resonated.

Almost immediately, the Bramblevine untightened and unraveled from around his hand.

As soon as he got within range of Hypode, he pulled his hand out of his satchel and slammed the Bramblevine directly into Hypode’s face.