The Sorcerer's Handbook

”Is Senior Leona already a Two-Winged sorcerer?”

”Has she stepped onto the Continent of Time before even graduating?”

”As expected of our Orange Dancer!”

Cheers erupted across Sword and Roses University. In stark contrast, Trajectory University sank into heavy silence.

Skoll’s defeat meant little. It was only a friendly match. What truly mattered was Leona’s breakthrough to Two-Winged. That single step marked the start of rapid growth, which carried far more significance than the match itself. By the time the intercollegiate league began, the Orange Dancer would likely stand as an insurmountable wall before Trajectory University.

After the Crimson Cherry Saint and the Hidden Hand Sword Saint finished their commentary, the initial excitement on Sword and Roses’ side began to settle. One after another, gazes drifted toward Sonya.

The score stood at 2–2. The final match would decide everything, and all the pressure had fallen onto her. If she lost, the jealousy, dissatisfaction, and malice directed at her would erupt without restraint.

The Scarlet Swordswoman’s talent was simply too overwhelming.

Leona had spent two years building her reputation. Sonya, in contrast, had risen in only a single month. That alone made her a target. Too many people wanted to see her fail. Even news of her death in the Virtual World had done little to satisfy them. They were eager for her to suffer a crushing defeat, to prove that a so-called genius was no different from anyone else.

Even among her own teammates, such thoughts were far from uncommon. They had every reason to feel resentment. Why should a mere first-year student be given the position of chief? Was it because she was Professor Trosan’s student? Because she had fought the Orange Dancer to a draw? Or because she had fully unfurled her Silver Wing in just a month?

If given the same chance, they believed they could have done the same.

The Scarlet Swordswoman? To them, she was nothing more than a fortunate country girl, favored by a professor and given extra resources.

Leona walked over at an unhurried pace. ”Sonya.”

A black leather vest clung tightly beneath her chest, tracing a clean, full curve. Long rune sleeves wrapped her arms, paired with tight shorts and black stockings. The outfit carried no excess flair, yet it suited her perfectly, blending agility with a wild edge.

”Senior Leona, congratulations.”

Leona sat beside her and gave her shoulder a light pat. ”You’re up next. Go on. Let those looking down on you be disappointed.”

Sonya understood immediately. She had sensed that faint hostility long ago. From the moment she stepped out in her battle attire, walked through the school gate, and met Professor Trosan, the malice had followed her openly. It felt like a flock of rotting crows lurking in the dark, thick and suffocating. Even someone raised in the countryside could not miss it. Too many people were waiting for her to stumble.

She had long grown used to such gazes. Back in the village, when she studied for exams, the villagers looked at her the same way. Their eyes were narrow, their malice sharp and raw. Now, it seemed the rats in the city were no different from those in the village.

Professor Trosan’s lazy voice called from the side. ”Sonya.”

She glanced over, then suddenly asked, ”What time is it?”

”12:19,” Trosan lifted his head toward the starry sky. ”The starlight is just right.”

Sonya rose to her feet. ”A fine day it is. I’ll be back soon.”

She added, ”The one thing I never do is let people down.”

”And now, the long-awaited final match between the two universities!” the host’s voice rang out with fervor. ”Trajectory’s chief, Tida Argent, versus Sword and Roses’ chief, Sonya Selby!”

Sonya rested her hand on the hilt of her wooden sword, tapped the ground lightly, and leapt onto the stage.

The university had offered her a real blade, but she chose the wooden one. The sword the Watcher had given her was no less sharp than steel.

She silently activated the Decade of Swordcraft.

At the same time, her opponent stepped onto the stage. Unlike Sonya, Trajectory’s chief advanced one step at a time up the stairs. Her footing wavered slightly, and she nearly stumbled.

She was a petite girl, barely 1.5 meters tall, dressed in battle attire that resembled a princess’s costume. She had to tilt her head just to meet Sonya’s gaze. Her eyes were large and bright, her pink hair curled in soft ringlets, and a ribbon was tied neatly atop her head. She held a small teddy bear in her arms. Yet something about her felt off. She was too mature to be called a child, yet too delicate to be considered a young lady. It was as if she existed in a strange, in-between state.

Tida’s voice was bright and crisp. ”Big sister Sonya, you’re so pretty!”

”No, I should be younger than you, Senior Tida,” Sonya replied with a smile. ”I’m only a first-year. You’re... a third-year, right?”

Tida froze for a moment, then quickly replaced her expression with a cheerful smile. ”Nope! Tida is forever fourteen, so everyone can only be my big brother or my big sister.”

”But you’re actually twenty-one this year, aren’t you?”

Her smile slipped. In an instant, malice erupted from her like a volcano. A strange aura whipped around her, sending Sonya’s hair flying. ”Has no one ever told you that it is very rude to ask a girl’s age?”

The teddy bear in her arms crackled with arcs of energy. With a surge of turbulent air, the small doll transformed into a five-meter-tall black bear, while Tida perched confidently on its shoulder.

”It’s not too late to apologize now, Big Sister Sonya,” she said with a teasing smile.

This was Trajectory University’s new chief representative, Tida Argent, an alchemist who had risen to fame during last year’s intercollegiate league. She was hailed as the Saint Seed of Alchemy. Her signature creation was the giant alchemical bear, usually carried in the form of a doll. In battle, it could instantly transform into a towering, near-impervious beast. Rumor had it that Truth University had once invited her to join. While many sorcerers matched her level, among those who specialized purely in alchemy, no one her age could rival her strength.

”No need, Big Sister Tida. I’m still in my rebellious phase,” Sonya said.

She gripped the hilt and drew her sword into a quick-draw stance, showing no hint of fear. Her fighting spirit surged, and a fiery glint flickered in her pale red eyes.

The tension peaked. Sensing the charged atmosphere, the host wisely skipped the countdown and left the stage entirely to the two chiefs.

Just as the battle was about to erupt, Sonya heard the soft sound of pages turning. Time seemed to freeze. When she blinked, the world in front of her had changed entirely.

The Flash Rail Auditorium stage was gone. She now stood on a strange plain. In the distance, the sky flowed with molten lava, while nearby fields bloomed with lush clusters of deep violet flowers, breathtaking in their beauty. A faint mist lingered in the air. This place... it feels like I’ve seen it somewhere before.

”Why did you stop? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

Sonya turned toward the voice and saw a woman ahead. She was a natural enchantress radiating overwhelming allure.

High heels, white stockings, and an off-shoulder dress clung to her perfect curves, forming an irresistible trap that drew every eye. Her makeup was so exquisite that even Sonya felt a trace of inferiority. Though her attire looked pure and sweet, every inch of her skin, every movement, every glance seemed designed to tempt others into sin.

Most striking of all, a ring of soft white fur encircled each of her forearms, like fur-lined guards.

While observing the unfamiliar woman, Sonya’s mouth moved on its own. Her voice was cold and sharp, carrying a chill that seemed to make the very heart shudder. “Demon Veela... lead the way.”