Chapter 1492: Whispers in the Academy
Ibarin had been waiting alone in his office, the grand chamber dimly lit by several floating crystals that hung in the air. His fingers tapped idly against the polished wood of the desk, then moved to rub at the bottom of his chin as his thoughts churned. His expression was grim, his mind running endlessly through every possibility, every path forward, and every way the situation could be twisted to his advantage. The students had failed.
He had warned them. Again and again, he had made it clear that in life, only those who succeeded could rise up the ladder. Those who failed, those who lost, could not be rewarded. They could not be praised, they could not be uplifted, and they certainly could not remain as representatives of the Central Academy. They were to be the best of the best, proof of his strength as Grand Magus, and yet they had lost in full view of the public. To him, the conclusion was simple and merciless. They were no longer of any use.
The other academies would whisper. Rumors would spread. He could not allow that. In his mind, there was only one path left: to get rid of them completely. The top students of the academy had lost, and now their existence itself was a stain. If they were gone, then so too would be the shame of their failure.
“They were meant to win,” Ibarin muttered under his breath, the sound echoing faintly against the walls of his office. His tone was cold, detached, almost as though he was reciting a simple truth rather than plotting the fate of his own students. “And they lost. So it is only right that they pay the price.”
His eyes narrowed, and his thoughts continued to spiral. After I take care of them, I will need to deal with their families as well. He tapped the desk harder, sharp knocks punctuating his internal monologue. That will be easy enough to do, but of course there will be news. The whispers will spread, the questions will come, and I will need to give the world an answer. I will need to build a story, set the stage, and create a scapegoat that can carry the blame. Perhaps the Dark Guild. Yes… perhaps the Dark Guild once again.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tightening against the armrest. Should I try to work with Gizin and his Cerberus Guild? Should I have them move in the shadows and make it appear as though they were the ones responsible? If I do, then the blame will not come to me. The world will not ask questions of the Grand Magus. Instead, the world will rally against the Dark Guild, just as it always has.
The problem was that unlike some of the other Grand Magus, Ibarin did not have a guild directly under his control. That was the greatest difference between him and them. He had the academy, its students, its staff, its prestige. That was his foundation, the rock upon which he had built his reputation. He had no guild he could trust fully, no band of loyal soldiers who owed their lives solely to him. That was why the staff of the academy had been split.
There were those who worked officially for the academy itself, and then there were those who worked directly for him. The latter group were the ones who knew more of Ibarin’s true nature, those who had glimpsed the ambition behind the mask. For them, he had promised everything: more power, more wealth, more status. Riches beyond imagining, magical treasures, positions of influence, everything they had ever dreamed of when they first sought to stand under the shadow of a Grand Magus.
Why would they not follow? Why would they not obey? He had given them a taste of greatness, and in return, they bent the knee.
As he brooded, the doors to his office creaked open. The sound was timid, hesitant, as though whoever dared to enter knew all too well the danger of disturbing him. A man entered quickly, dropped to one knee, and pressed his head low against the polished floor. His voice trembled as he spoke.
“I am sorry, sir!” he blurted out, his words rushed as though trying to defend himself before punishment even came. “I am unable to get in contact with the team that went to retrieve the students. Not just them, but also the team that was sent after them, to check up on their progress. There is no word, no message, nothing. They are gone.”
The man’s forehead pressed harder against the ground as if that would save him. “I have done everything I could to locate them, every method I know. Witnesses say they saw the team taking the students, but when they rounded the side of the venue… it was as though they vanished into thin air. No one has seen them since. There is no trail.”
The silence in the office grew heavy. The man did not dare to raise his eyes. He could feel it, like the air itself growing thicker, suffocating him, the oppressive weight of mana spilling out of Ibarin. Every second stretched into eternity, every breath drawn with effort. His heart thundered inside his chest as he waited for judgment.
Finally, Ibarin’s voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp.
“I am surrounded by incompetent fools,” he said, each word a blade. His gaze burned down at the man kneeling before him. “Not a single thing can go right, not one! Where did I go wrong in selecting you, in allowing any of you to serve me? You begged to be part of the circle of the Grand Magus, you swore loyalty, and yet you cannot complete something as simple as this? You cannot even return with a group of children?”
Ibarin’s voice rose, his tone cracking like thunder. “Perhaps it is true what they say, if you want something done correctly, then you must do it yourself.”
The man opened his mouth, perhaps to beg, perhaps to plead for one more chance, but he never had the chance to speak. As Ibarin strode past, his hand moved almost lazily. A sickening sound echoed through the office. The man’s head separated from his shoulders in one clean motion, rolled across the polished floor, and came to rest at the base of the desk. His body slumped heavily to the side.
Ibarin did not spare him another glance.
Moments later, his figure lifted into the air, wind magic swirling around him as he rose above the academy grounds. His cloak whipped against the current, his eyes sharp as he surveyed everything below. He searched, looking for any trace, any hint of what had happened. His other staff were still combing through the grounds, searching for answers, but none had returned with information. Even now, scanning the vast campus, he saw no sign of the missing students or their escort.
But then he did notice something else.
In one section of the academy grounds, gathered in the open area near the venue, several guests were crowding around a single figure. Their voices rose in excitement, admiration, and curiosity. When Ibarin’s eyes narrowed, when he focused more closely, he saw it clearly: the unmistakable glint of white hair.
“That boy,” Ibarin thought, his lips curling slightly. “That white-haired student… he is drawing too much attention.” His gaze lingered on the sight below. “Very well. Enjoy the spotlight while you can. Once this event is over, once the celebrations have ended, I will uncover everything about you. Every secret you hide will belong to me.”
Below, Raze had deliberately chosen not to wear his mask. He had allowed himself to stand out, to be noticed. His striking hair, his reputation after the battles, his quiet strength, it all drew people toward him. Crowds gathered, hands reached out, questions tumbled one after another. Some even wished for photos, a token of memory beside the mysterious prodigy of Wilton Academy.
And Raze accepted it. He welcomed the crowd, the noise, the attention. Because all of it was part of his plan. If Ibarin was angry, if he was desperate to move, he would not act now. Not in front of so many eyes, not while the world was watching. For Raze’s plan to succeed, Ibarin had to act tomorrow.
Eventually, Raze excused himself, claiming he needed to return to the dormitories and rest. The crowd reluctantly parted, still buzzing with excitement. But as he walked, one man approached from the side, his expression serious. He looked different than before, his presence quieter, heavier.
Raze recognized him immediately, and the silence spell was activated in an instant.
“I have informed the students of what needs to be done,” Alen said, his voice steady. “You can rest assured, they are safe for the time being. But there is something that troubles me.”
His brows furrowed, and he leaned closer.
“I cannot get in contact with Wilton.”
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Chapter 1493: The Eve of the Finale
While the silence spell was still active, Raze and Alen walked slowly in the direction of the dormitories. To the crowd and to any onlookers, it appeared to be nothing unusual, just one of the many guests or recruiters who had taken an interest in speaking with Raze.
During events like this, there were always guild representatives, academy scouts, and corporate recruiters hovering around. They were eager to make offers, to pitch incentives, to lure students with promises of resources and positions. No one gave the pair a second glance. Even the silence spell itself didn’t appear suspicious; in fact, it was common to use such a spell in order to ensure that other recruiters couldn’t overhear negotiations. To everyone else, it looked like business as usual.
But behind the veil of silence, Alen’s tone was heavy. His words carried a tension that betrayed how serious he truly felt.
He explained that he was deeply worried about Wilton. With everything that had happened, with him escaping from Ibarin’s grasp and now the students themselves managing to slip out, he feared that the Grand Magus might turn his attention directly toward Wilton. It was a natural connection. If Ibarin wanted to chase down information, if he wanted to close the loop, Wilton would be a clear target.
“I’ve tried,” Alen admitted, his voice low. “I’ve attempted every communication method I used before, but nothing has worked. No replies. No acknowledgment. It’s as if the line itself has gone dead.”
He had even gone so far as to ask academy staff members, those who were still inside the Central Academy, to make contact on his behalf. But their attempts had also met silence. Nothing had reached Wilton.
Raze listened carefully, his expression unreadable, before he finally responded.
“I’ll ask the other Wilton teachers if they can try to get a hold of him,” Raze said. “But I’ll be honest with you… more than likely, he may already have been reached. He may already have been taken.”
Hearing those words, Alen’s entire body stiffened. His jaw clenched tightly, and his fist curled at his side. For the first time throughout this entire ordeal, this long process of peeling back the layers of corruption surrounding the Grand Magus, it felt personal to him in a way it hadn’t before. Someone he knew directly, someone he trusted, might have already been affected.
He had already been told that his sister Aurora was in danger, that Enaxx had nearly killed her. She had survived, though he had only heard the story after the fact. That had been frightening, but it still felt distant. This was different. This was immediate.
“Remember what we talked about,” Alen said after a pause. His voice was measured, but his eyes burned. “I hope that everything the Grand Magus have done, all of it, comes to light. If the truth spreads, if people finally see them for what they are, then more and more will side with you. They’ll have no choice. But…” He exhaled slowly. “I still don’t know if it’s right. I don’t know if it’s truly the best thing for Alterian to topple the Grand Magus themselves. That choice… it can’t just be made by us. The entire world must decide what happens when the truth is revealed.”
Raze said nothing further. He let Alen’s words hang in the air as they continued toward the dorms.
When he finally returned to the teachers’ quarters, Raze went straight to work. He asked the Wilton teachers directly if they had been able to get in contact with Wilton, or if any word at all had been exchanged. Their answer was firm: no.
None of them had spoken with him. None had received any sign. Normally, it wouldn’t be strange, the teachers weren’t supposed to communicate with him during the exchange event. But the fact that Raze himself was asking pushed them to act. They had tried to reach him regardless, but even then, there had been no response. Not a word. Not even a flicker.
“That is strange,” Redrick muttered as he sat back in his room, his communication device glowing faintly on his wrist. “At this time of night, he should be in his quarters. There’s no reason he wouldn’t respond to a direct call. It doesn’t make sense.”
Panla tilted her head, suspicion in her gaze. “Is the reason you’re asking us because you already know something? Because you suspect what’s really going on?”
Raze stood with his hands folded behind his back. His answer was calm, but there was weight in his words.
“It’s just a guess,” he admitted. “And I hope I’m wrong. But if everything goes the way I intend it to, then by tomorrow… everyone will find out the truth.”
The three teachers exchanged uneasy glances. From the way Raze spoke, from the certainty in his tone, they realized something important. He had finally decided. The reason he had come here in the first place, the goal he had been holding back, was about to be revealed. Tomorrow, whatever his plan was, he intended to act.
“That does remind me,” Luka interjected, clapping a fist into his palm. “We need to discuss tomorrow’s final event. What exactly are we going to do?”
Redrick groaned, his expression sour. “Right, that,” he muttered. “One of us three teachers has to participate. Honestly, what a pain. I’ve always thought the whole thing was pointless. Not all teachers are meant for flashy displays. Some of us focus on theory, on research. What exactly do they expect us to show? To me, it’s always been a useless exercise.”
Luka crossed his arms. “It isn’t completely useless. The event has its purpose. Teachers are allowed to present however they wish. They can demonstrate a complex magical formation. They can deliver a lecture in front of the crowd, showcasing their research. They can even display high-level magic in raw form if they want to. The content doesn’t matter as much as the impression it leaves.”
He paused, his gaze flickering between the other two.
“Only one teacher can be chosen to represent us,” Luka continued. “The event is less about competition and more about demonstration. It’s meant to impress the guests, to showcase to the students, and to convince potential recruits that our academy is worth trusting. Many of the visitors are undecided. They want to know if their children, their prodigies, are worth sending here. That’s what this is really about. Year after year, it’s become less of a celebration and more of a proving ground for the academies. Which institution deserves the most attention? Which academy should be trusted with the brightest talents? That’s what we’re really displaying.”
He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll admit, though… I’m getting old. My demonstrations aren’t what they used to be. So I’d prefer if one of you took the lead this year. Either of you have something in mind?”
Both Redrick and Panla hesitated. Neither spoke up. It was clear they were each waiting for the other to volunteer first. The silence stretched, the air thick with indecision, until finally a voice broke through.
“Let me take part,” Raze said.
****
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Chapter 1494: The Last Request
All three teachers had to blink a few times when they heard Raze speak. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp, and for a moment none of them knew how to respond. It wasn’t a complete surprise, each of them had suspected that Raze might try something reckless sooner or later, but for him to declare it now, at this exact moment, when everything was balanced so precariously, caught them off guard.
“Well…” Redrick finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a lot on our shoulders if you really do take part.” His tone was dry, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable.
“Hey!” Panla snapped back immediately. “This is a teachers’ event, not a students’ show! Regardless of who Raze is, he’s still a student. They won’t even let him step onto the floor. Unless…” She narrowed her eyes, suspicion flashing across her face. “Unless you plan to use that mask again, to go as Redrick?”
Raze shook his head. He no longer had the mask anyway, he had given it to Alen to wear. But it didn’t matter. Not this time.
“It won’t matter,” Raze said simply, his voice steady, calm, resolute. “All I ask is that you let me step forward when they call for a teacher. This is my last chance to complete what I came here to do. When I step out there, everything I’ve been working toward will begin. All I ask of you is to protect the students and the crowd if things get rough.”
His words carried a strange weight. Even though they were softly spoken, none of the teachers could ignore the seriousness behind them.
A long silence filled the room. In their minds, each of them was thinking the same thing: the sheer weight of what tomorrow would bring was immense. Yet, though none of them wanted to admit it aloud, there was also a flicker of excitement stirring in their chests.
“When Raze steps out there,” Redrick finally said, breaking the silence, “it won’t feel so strange anyway. Everyone’s already seen what he can do. He’s more skilled than most teachers here, more skilled than us in some ways. You’ve helped me personally. You’ve helped this academy more than anyone knows. So…” He exhaled deeply, almost like he was releasing something heavy from his chest. “Do what you need to do.”
He hesitated, then added, softer, “At first I wasn’t fully on your side. Knowing you were linked to the Dark Guild… I doubted you. I doubted your intentions. But after everything I’ve seen… it feels like we’ve been wrong this whole time. We only ever saw one side of the story.”
The other teachers said nothing, but their silence spoke volumes. None of them could bring themselves to say no. It felt less like Raze was asking for permission and more like he was extending them the courtesy of being included.
With that, Raze left them. He walked back to his room, leaving the three teachers to sit with their thoughts, their nerves, and the anticipation of the coming day.
When the next day arrived, the air itself felt heavier. Though the festival carried on, students and guests enjoying their last chance at games, food, and performances, there was an unspoken tension lingering beneath the laughter. It was the calm before the storm.
Inside his room, Raze received an update through the communicator.
“All of the students are safe,” Alen reported. “None of them have tried to run off, and they’ll be entering the arena as expected.”
It was good news, a small relief amidst the storm building in Raze’s mind.
Now, with only an hour until the final event, he sat in silence, his thoughts churning.
’I’ve absorbed the powers of those students,’ he thought. ’But it barely affected me. Enaxx, at least, I’ve already defeated. Though Enaxx and Ibarin are considered the weaker of the Grand Magus, neither of them should be underestimated. Enaxx was always sent on errands, but his unique trait made him dangerous. His constant activity, his ability to persist, it made him one of the most troublesome to deal with. Ibarin may be similar… or he may have grown complacent. Either way, I can’t take him lightly.’
Raze’s hand tightened into a fist as his mind sharpened.
’I have my Pagna techniques, combined with magic. I have one last card hidden up my sleeve. It should be enough. No, it has to be enough. I’m strong enough now. I can take on a Grand Magus. I can do this.’
When he lifted his head, his eyes met those of his companions, the allies who had come with him from Pagna. They were watching him quietly, their gazes steady.
“We can tell today is the day,” Liam said, scratching at the side of his head. “You don’t have to say a word. We get it. This whole thing… it’s personal. You told us your story. We know this is what started it all for you. It’s what you came here to finish. So we won’t interfere.”
He leaned back, his expression grim but resolved. “But we’ll make sure no one else interferes either. You focus on the Grand Magus. Leave the rest to us.”
Raze nodded. “Safa,” he said, his tone shifting. “Your light magic has improved a lot. When I face the Grand Magus, there’s going to be power leaking everywhere. It’ll shake the arena, maybe even tear it apart. If you spread your light magic wide enough, use enough mana, you can create a barrier. That barrier will keep the students safe. It’ll keep the crowd safe. If the academy’s teachers decide to intervene, they may ignore the barrier… but the innocent people won’t. Protect them. That will let me fight at full strength.”
Safa pressed her lips together, then nodded firmly. “I’ll do it.”
Before Raze could say anything else, there came a knock at the door.
“Are you ready?” Panla’s voice called from the hall. “It’s time to go.”
****
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Chapter 1495: The Final Challenge
Raze and the rest of the group headed out toward the venue. As they walked, a faint tingling sensation ran through their bodies, one that seemed to grow heavier the closer they came to the arena. The Wilton students especially felt it, the anticipation that wrapped itself around their nerves like a tightening coil. The teachers beside them were no less uneasy. They, too, felt the pressure of the moment, though their anxiety was tied to something else entirely.
The teachers still hadn’t been able to reach Wilton himself. The silence, the lack of response from their principal, hung over them like a looming shadow. During the course of the day, he should have replied at least once, yet no word had come. The absence felt ominous, as if it were the quiet before a storm, a dark prelude of what was about to unfold.
By the time they entered the colossal coliseum, the stands were already filling. People continued to pour in from every direction, taking their seats and chatting excitedly. Today’s gathering was even larger than usual. The final event, paired with the closing ceremony, always drew the greatest crowd. It was said the magical displays were unlike anything else in Alterian, and that witnessing them at least once in one’s lifetime was an experience worth treasuring.
Bright, shimmering screens of magical projection hovered above the arena, showing highlights of the previous contests. Guests who might have missed earlier events could still catch glimpses of the most spectacular battles and victories. This was one of the reasons the final day always promised the grandest turnout, it was not only a conclusion but also a celebration of everything that had led to this moment.
Among the crowd, in the midsection where rows of guests sat comfortably, Alen was present. His features were hidden behind the mask he wore, a disguise necessary for the role he was playing. Directly in front of him, ten figures sat quietly, each of them disguised as well. These were the Central Academy students, once proud representatives of their institution, now shadows hiding in plain sight.
Bones shifted slightly in his seat, lowering his voice. “After this event is over… we’ll be able to go back, right? We can finally return home, back to our families?”
Kayzel shot him a sharp look. “Don’t be stupid. Do you really think the Grand Magus will just stop because he couldn’t find you here? He won’t forget. He won’t forgive. He’ll hunt down every single one of your families, and none of them will be safe for a long time.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “That’s why I’m more curious about what was said before, that after today, we would find out the truth. You meant that, didn’t you?”
Alen gave a small nod, though he didn’t elaborate further. His expression was grim. Could Raze really accomplish what he had claimed? Could one person truly drag down the image of a Grand Magus, a figure revered as untouchable, almost godlike? The thought seemed impossible, like asking a mortal to topple a divine being. Yet, impossibility or not, Raze had made his intention clear. Today would decide everything.
High above the arena floor, the principals began to gather in their usual viewing area. As always, their arrival drew whispers from the crowd, their presence lending gravity to the event. But once again, there was one glaring absence, Wilton.
The excuse circulated among the staff was that he would be away for several days. But whether that was true or a carefully crafted lie, none of the other principals could say. Doubt lingered among them, and the unease was plain to see.
With how tense everything felt, even the smallest fluctuations in mana drew attention. Several times, traces of energy leaked from Ibarin himself, subtle yet suffocating. It was enough to make those nearby anxious, though no one dared to comment. Quietly, many were simply glad the event would end today.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice rang out, amplified magically to reach every corner of the coliseum. “We will now proceed with the final event of the exchange! Today, our teachers themselves will take the stage and demonstrate whatever they wish for us. Each display will be unique, perhaps a lecture, perhaps a performance of great magic, and each will surely leave an impression!”
Applause echoed through the stands as the event began.
The first teacher stepped onto the stage and immediately began casting. A blend of elements swirled into the air, merging in a dance of light and color. Fire, wind, and water intertwined, forming radiant bursts that expanded into fireworks of shimmering magic. The audience gasped in delight as sparks rained down like stars. Though not overly complex, the elegance of the execution left its mark. When the performance ended, applause thundered across the coliseum.
The second teacher approached with a very different idea. Instead of a display of power, they opted for a demonstration, a lesson in wind magic. After a short explanation, they invited a guest from the stands to step onto the stage. Under the teacher’s guidance, the volunteer was able to manipulate their magic more precisely than before. Though the guest was already a practicing mage, the improvement was clear. Murmurs of appreciation spread through the crowd, and soon several more volunteered, eager for similar instruction.
The next teacher followed with a bold display of combination magic. Element after element fused together, carefully balanced into large-scale spells. The audience leaned forward, fascinated by the intricacy. Many had never seen different affinities merged so flawlessly. The raw scale of the spells, combined with the precision needed to keep them from collapsing, drew heavy applause.
One by one, the academies had their representatives. Now, only two remained, their performances to serve as the finale, leading directly into the closing ceremony.
The stage shifted, the floor opening once more. All eyes turned as a figure with striking white hair stepped forward.
“Wait,” someone in the crowd murmured. “That’s… that’s not a teacher.”
“Yeah… isn’t that one of the students? What’s a student doing out there?”
“Is that even allowed? Why would an academy send a student instead of a teacher?”
The whispers spread rapidly, confusion rippling through the stands.
But the figure on stage, Raze, paid the words no mind. He walked calmly to the center, every step steady, deliberate. Once there, he lifted his hand, casting a simple spell of wind magic. His voice, carried by the spell, boomed across the arena, reaching every ear.
“For this event,” Raze declared, his voice unwavering, “I, Raze of Wilton Academy, challenge Ibarin, the Grand Magus, to a duel.”
***
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Chapter 1496: The Challenge Accepted
If Raze had simply spoken in a normal tone, or even raised his voice into a shout, only those sitting in the very first rows might have caught his words. If the crowd had been silent—utterly still and waiting—then perhaps they could have pieced together fragments of his declaration. But this was not such a moment. The air was alive with chatter, the venue bursting with energy, excitement, and anticipation.
And yet, every single person in the colossal arena heard him clearly. His words rang out as though whispered directly into each of their ears: the challenge to duel Ibarin, the Grand Magus, principal of the Central Academy.
It wasn’t by chance.
Through the subtle mastery of wind magic, Raze had amplified his voice. Just as a mage could bend the air to hush whispers and carry silence, they could also magnify sound—stretching words, weaving them through the currents of air, and ensuring they carried across an entire colosseum. With careful control, his voice had sliced through the noise, so none could mistake his intent.
The reaction was instantaneous.
“He wants to fight the Grand Magus? The principal himself?”
“He’s insane! How could a mere student dare suggest such a thing? Grand Magus don’t simply entertain random duels. Even witnessing one fight is considered a historic event in itself!”
“Are we all forgetting something? This is the teacher’s demonstration! Not a student competition. He shouldn’t even be standing there in the first place. Why aren’t the organizers doing something?”
The voices rose higher and higher. Disbelief mixed with curiosity, outrage clashing with awe. Yet not all dismissed the audacious declaration so quickly.
“Wait, but isn’t that the student from Wilton? The one who fought Kayzel? Don’t you remember—when the barrier went up, no one could see how he bested the Central Academy students. We only saw the results. If this is the same person, maybe there’s more to him than we know. It could be worth seeing…”
“You’re right,” another voice joined. “Still, choosing Ibarin? If he had challenged any other teacher, perhaps it would have been accepted for show. But the Grand Magus himself? That’s different. That’s dangerous.”
And secretly, within the growing hum of conversation, a different emotion began to take hold—hope.
Few ever saw a Grand Magus battle. To witness their power firsthand, to see a Nine Star mage in combat, was the kind of spectacle whispered about for lifetimes. They knew the outcome was obvious, yet that didn’t matter. Even a doomed fight was worth the sight.
Would Ibarin accept? That was the real question.
The announcer, who had been guiding the event, looked utterly dumbfounded. His face drained of color as he clutched at his microphone.
“Uh… l-ladies and gentlemen, please… we just need to clarify. Did Wilton Academy actually send a student in place of their teacher? I-I’m sure… as much as we’d all love to see the Grand Magus himself step in, he wouldn’t—”
The announcer’s words faltered. His mouth hung open as gasps, exclamations, and pointing fingers spread across the crowd like wildfire.
Up in the special viewing box, the one reserved for the principals, something had changed. A perfect circle was being carved into the reinforced glass. Then, with a precise gesture, the cut-out pane was lifted and slid aside, carried effortlessly on the wind.
There he was.
Ibarin.
The Grand Magus stepped forward into the open, his robes glimmering with threads of magic, his expression calm but sharpened with intent. Without sparing even a glance backward, he extended his hand. The glass he had removed was set back in place, and the edges burned with hot flames until the seams fused seamlessly once again. To the eye, it was as though the barrier had never been touched—save for those who had seen it happen.
And then, he began to descend.
Floating down from the grand box, his body carried effortlessly by his own mastery of wind magic, Ibarin drifted toward the center stage. Dust and grit lifted into the air around him before being pressed back flat against the stone, as though the world itself bent to accommodate his presence.
The crowd erupted.
“It’s him—he’s really coming!”
“The Grand Magus himself! He’s answering the challenge!”
“Is this… is this real? This has to be staged—it’s too perfect!”
Doubt clashed with awe. Some believed it must have been planned from the beginning, a spectacle arranged to astonish. Others knew better. The pride of a Grand Magus was not something that tolerated mockery. To step forward now, Ibarin had to be taking this seriously.
Raze, watching him approach, understood exactly why his plan had worked. By making the declaration in public, before thousands, he had cornered the Grand Magus.
Ibarin had been mocked by Wilton Academy’s involvement in the event. His authority had been undermined, his pride repeatedly tested by failures and disruptions. To walk away from this challenge would be to show weakness, to admit fear in front of the entire magical world gathered here today. That was unacceptable.
More than that, Raze had handed him an opportunity. An official duel, in front of all Alterian, with a student from Wilton. If Ibarin crushed him, it would not only humiliate Wilton but serve as proof of his supremacy, silencing doubt and washing away every slight against his authority.
This was why Ibarin couldn’t refuse.
Because for Ibarin, this wasn’t simply about Raze. It was about power. About pride. About domination.
Finally, the Grand Magus’s feet touched the ground. The air stilled, his aura wrapping over the arena like an invisible shroud. His smile was calm, almost polite, but the intensity behind it made the atmosphere heavy.
He raised his voice, the wind carrying it to every corner of the colosseum.
“I, Ibarin, Grand Magus and principal of the Central Academy, accept this duel.”
****
*****
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When news of MVS, MWS, or any other series comes out, you will be able to see it there first, and you can reach out to me. If I’m not too busy, I tend to reply.
Chapter 1497: The Duel’s First Words
The crowd erupted once again. Murmurs rippled through the stands, low voices swelling into shocked gasps, then into open exclamations. “Oohs” and “ahhs” echoed like waves, rolling across the vast colosseum. The entire arena trembled, not from magic, but from the sheer disbelief of what had just been declared and, more importantly, what had just been accepted.
Ibarin, the Grand Magus himself, had answered. He had accepted the challenge of a student.
Many among the audience clapped their hands together, half in admiration and half in stunned approval. Some muttered that this was humility at its finest, that the Grand Magus, a man with no obligation to respond, had chosen to descend from his position of power to grant the wish of a mere student. To them, it seemed like a display of kindness, a gesture to make the final day of the event all the more spectacular and memorable.
But in the Wilton preparation room, there was no mistaking the truth. They knew Raze too well.
“Wait, he wants to go up against the Grand Magus, and the Grand Magus actually accepted!” Moze shouted, his hands flying to his head in disbelief. His voice cracked, as if he had just been told his entire world was turning upside down.
“You didn’t figure that out already?” Chiba rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Her tone was sharp, biting, and impatient. “What other reason would someone like him, someone tied to the Dark Guild, be here in the first place? And not just any member, but one that strong. Everything he’s done, every step he’s taken since this event began, has been for this very moment.”
The realization sent shivers down the spines of several students.
“You mean… he’s going to try and kill him, isn’t he?” Yolden asked. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified. She had never thought, not once in her life, that she would find herself silently rooting for a Dark Guild member over the Grand Magus himself. But after everything they had seen, after all the truths that had clawed their way into the open, the world felt distorted.
“With the way Ibarin has been acting, and with everything we now know he’s done, this fight will be to the death,” Redrick said firmly, his jaw tight. “And I’ll say this plainly, I believe Ibarin has already killed our principal.”
Gasps filled the room. The students didn’t know what to say. Their faith in Alterian had already been shattered piece by piece, and now, with Redrick’s words, another piece of the illusion crumbled. They were inclined to believe it, because every truth they had clung to had betrayed them already.
“My question is,” Piba said, her voice trembling slightly, “is Raze even strong enough? We’re talking about the Grand Magus here. A nine-star mage. One of the most powerful mages not just of our generation, but in all of history. I thought, honestly, I thought, that maybe all of you, his allies, would stand with him to fight the others. I didn’t think he’d walk onto that stage alone.”
At that, Safa and the others from Pagna, the allies who had crossed into this world with Raze, straightened their backs. Their eyes were calm but resolute. They hadn’t moved yet, but their bodies were tense, ready. If the situation demanded it, they would leap into the fray without hesitation. But not yet. Not now. This was his moment, and they knew better than to steal it.
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Liam said, scratching his head, his tone casual despite the tension. “I mean, Raze already beat one of those guys, right? What was his name again, Bnaxx? Doesn’t sound right…”
“Enaxx,” Londo corrected quickly, his eyes wide. His voice rose, almost cracking. “Are you saying he defeated Enaxx? The Grand Magus Enaxx?”
The words shook the room. It sounded impossible. Absurd. Surely they would have heard about something so monumental if it had truly happened. And yet… when they thought about it, when they replayed the recent weeks in their minds, they realized something chilling.
Hadn’t news of Enaxx gone strangely quiet? Normally, he was everywhere, constantly moving, constantly making his presence known, always paraded as one of the faces of the Grand Magus’ strength. And yet recently, there had been nothing. No sightings. No words. Silence.
The students exchanged glances. Doubt and belief tangled in their hearts. What if it was true? What if the impossible had already happened, and they were only just now catching up?
Back on the arena floor, Ibarin lifted his voice again, smiling as he addressed the entire colosseum.
“First,” he said smoothly, “I believe we need to be clear on some rules. I’ve seen how skilled you are. I know you must have some tricks hidden up your sleeve. If the two of us fight without restraint, then there is a chance, just a chance, that you could be seriously hurt.”
The crowd murmured again, but Raze only smiled inwardly. He could hear the edge in Ibarin’s words, the mask of courtesy covering teeth sharpened with malice. A true nine-star mage wouldn’t even need to make such disclaimers against a lower-ranked opponent. In Ibarin’s mind, Raze was, at most, a six-star. Perhaps, if he was generous, a seven. This excuse wasn’t about safety. It was permission. Permission for Ibarin to go all out, to unleash his power under the guise of protecting the student.
“Right, I understand,” Raze replied evenly. “I want to test my full capabilities and use everything I have. So I expect no less. That means it’s fine if I hurt you as well, yes?”
The crowd gasped.
Students could be arrogant, yes. Many were bold, cocky, and eager to prove themselves. But this… this was different. This was Raze speaking directly to a Grand Magus with no hesitation, no visible fear, no sign of intimidation. His words weren’t reckless, they were calculated, deliberate.
Ibarin’s jaw tightened behind his smile. His teeth ground together though his lips never faltered. “Very well. Understand that the other teachers will have no chance to intervene. The scale of our spells, the weight of our power, it will be beyond them. When this duel begins, no one will be able to help you. I simply wanted you to be aware of that.”
Then his smile sharpened further, his voice turning low. “Tell me, young one. What is your true goal in all of this? Do you want to prove your strength to me, so that I might one day select you as a candidate for the next Grand Magus?”
Raze chuckled. His hands rose slowly, deliberately, palms open as wind magic flickered to life, spiraling and dancing in his grasp.
“I’ll let you know the answer,” he said, eyes locked firmly on Ibarin, “you’ll find out the reason for all of this, today!”
*****
For updates for MWS and future works, please follow me on my social media below.
Instagram: Jksmanga
*Patreon: jksmanga
When news of MVS, MWS, or any other series comes out, you will be able to see it there first, and you can reach out to me. If I’m not too busy, I tend to reply.
