After the fierce conclusion of Bracket B, Rein intended to drag his ruined boots back to the same stone bench and rest.
He had taken only a few steps when a heavy shadow fell across his path.
A young man in a jet-black cloak trimmed with gold stepped into his way.
Whispers rippled through Devil’s Den—his name already known.
Timothy Viremont.
The most influential second-year student in the Academy.
Professor Barnaby, watching from his floating chair, frowned.
He remembered the name Viremont very well. During the last AGMT, he had been one judge who watched Rein knock Timothy’s older brother out of the tournament.
“Rein,” Timothy said.
“You’re not leaving the arena yet.”
Rein frowned and tilted his head, studying the other boy with mild confusion.
This guy again…
More annoying than I remembered.
“It’s not the final yet, Timothy,” the third-year referee hurried in.
“You still have your qualifying match for Bracket A.”
Timothy folded his arms. His gaze never wavered from Rein.
“I am the winner of Bracket A.”
A murmur of doubt spread through the stands.
The referee blinked. “But you still have a match against a third-year—”
“That senior fell ill and couldn’t even stand,” Timothy cut in, his tone calm yet oppressive.
“He withdrew.”
Up above, Barnaby rubbed his temples and sighed.
Ill, huh? More like bribed—or ordered.
Rules were rules.
After the opponent’s name was called three times with no response, the sweating referee glanced at his enchanted watch one last time.
“Time’s up! Winner of Bracket A—Timothy Viremont, second year!”
Timothy showed no sign of celebration. He remained where he stood, arms crossed, staring at Rein. A haughty smile crept onto his lips.
“At last… it’s just you and me.”
Rein didn’t meet his eyes.
Instead, he looked down at his own foot—his toe sticking out of the hole in his boot.
“Yeah,” Rein replied, wiggling the exposed toe on purpose.
“Just you and me.”
Timothy picked up the intention, feeling the insult hit him.
His handsome face twisted with rage. His jaw clenched hard before he forced his expression back into aristocratic composure.
“Fine,” Timothy sneered.
“After I crush you in front of everyone and reclaim the honor of House Viremont, I’ll even donate a new pair of boots to you. Call it charity.”
He turned to walk toward his mark.
“Wait,” Rein called out.
Timothy stopped and looked back, irritated.
“I almost forgot how rich and powerful your family is,” Rein said, flashing a smile that made Mira and Boris tense.
He pulled a gleaming gold card from his cloak and held it up.
“To make this last match a bit more… befitting of young master Viremont—
how about we add a wager? Five thousand AC. Winner takes all.”
The arena erupted.
Five thousand AC was a staggering sum for any student.
“Well?” Rein tilted his head.
“Got the guts for it, young master?”
Mira and Boris nearly grabbed their heads in unison.
They knew that gold card carried not a single coin—only red debt numbers masked by Rein’s biggest bluff yet.
Timothy curled his lips in disdain.
“Five thousand? Fine. I accept.”
“That’s pocket change to me.”
Rein smiled warmly—far too warmly.
He walked over to Professor Barnaby and handed him the gold card. Timothy produced a shining platinum card and did the same.
“Professor,” Rein said politely, eyes pleading just a little,
“Could you hold the wager and serve as witness?”
Barnaby stared at the gold card, then at Rein’s cheerful face, and let out a long sigh.
“You kids are determined to give me headaches,” he muttered, sliding both cards into his robe pocket.
“Fine. Since both parties agreed—winner takes 5,000 AC from the other. Official.”
Rein returned to his position, heart pounding—not from anticipation of battle, but from a familiar thrill.
Now this is worth the effort.
Clear all my debts…
I should still walk away with about 2,800 AC.
He glanced at Timothy.
Thanks, rich kid.
Across the field, Timothy stood tall and confident. He raised a silver staff engraved with intricate patterns. Two gemstones gleamed at its tip—one a blazing red ruby, the other a deep blue sapphire.
Barnaby frowned instantly.
That was a Rare-grade weapon.
A trump card Timothy’s brother had intended to use at AGMT—before Rein eliminated him.
The Twin-Core Scepter.
A weapon inscribed with both fire and water elements—one on each end.
Forging opposing elements into a single focus without causing catastrophic backlash required dangerously precise mana frequency matching.
After both combatants activated their Magical Armor, Timothy didn’t hesitate.
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A red flash burst from one crystal.
“Fire Bolt!”
Three flaming projectiles shot forward almost instantly.
Most spectators expected Rein to counter with Magic Missile as before—but instead, he dodged.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The bolts smashed into the arena barrier, explosions and searing fragments scattering violently.
Timothy smiled and flicked his wrist, rotating the staff to the blue crystal without pause.
“Icicle Bolt!”
Dozens of foot-long ice spikes formed midair and rained down toward Rein’s next step—perfectly predicted, as if Timothy had calculated his path in advance.
It was the same tactic.
The exact same one Rein had used to defeat Timothy’s brother at AGMT.
And Timothy had copied it—perfectly.
With the power of the Twin-Core Scepter, Timothy had reduced the casting process to a fraction of its usual time.
He wove spell after spell in rapid succession, forming a layered magical snare—an elegant, delayed trap reminiscent of the one Rein had once used to exact revenge by defeating his enemy with their own method.
Timothy had misjudged his opponent.
Completely.
Rein was not his brother—and he was not a mage who would obediently walk into someone else’s game.
The instant Rein caught sight of razor-sharp icicles descending from the corner of his vision, he twisted his body midair.
He didn’t dodge.
Instead, he drove one foot hard into empty space—as if striking something solid where nothing should exist.
His trajectory snapped ninety degrees in an instant.
Rein shot toward Timothy—straight, fast, and unforgiving.
Barnaby’s eyes went wide in disbelief atop his floating chair.
Levitate again?!
For lateral propulsion?
This little monster keeps flipping basic magic upside down…
The fat professor burst into laughter, a volatile mix of exhilaration and unease.
Timothy froze for a split second, stunned—but combat instinct took over.
He twisted the staff, bringing the fire-aspect crystal to bear. Mana, compressed to the brink of overflow, surged outward in a single release.
“Triple Scorch!”
Three streams of fire erupted simultaneously, writhing toward Rein in tight, converging arcs—leaving no room to escape.
You won’t dodge this, Rein!
Rein’s eyes were calm.
At the very moment the flames were about to sear his skin, he tapped the toe of his ruined boot—
the one with the hole—against the stone floor.
THUD!
Rein’s body blurred into an afterimage.
At the same instant, all three streams of Triple Scorch slammed into the spot where he had been.
BOOM!
A violent explosion of elemental fire tore through the arena.
Timothy smiled. Briefly.
Then—
CRASH!
An overwhelming impact slammed into his body, hurling him airborne. His organs churned violently as he retched, his body flung nearly thirty feet before crashing into the arena’s protective barrier with a thunderous roar.
The young master of House Viremont slid down onto the stone like a lump of wet clay.
His eyes drifted unfocused.
The Twin-Core Scepter flew from his grip, skittering away.
The entire arena fell silent.
Even Barnaby struggled to believe what he was seeing. His gaze drifted to Rein’s pitiful boot—and there it was: a fading mana circuit dissipating around it.
He had only caught thirty percent of the spell.
But that was enough.
Haste…
A speed-enhancement spell most mages fear because of the brutal physical strain.
And the boy had used it—at the perfect moment.
Not only that—his method was wrong.
Wrong according to every textbook Barnaby had ever read.
Barnaby stared at the boot.
Rein’s exposed toe still wiggled irritably.
Then he looked back at the blast site—and noticed a footprint pressed unnaturally deep into the shattered stone.
Don’t tell me…
Did this little monster copy Guinevere’s method?
…And improve it?
He turned those trash boots into a mana conduit—
and inscribed Haste directly into the footwear itself.
But the bigger question gnawed at him.
Where had Rein gotten a mana crystal in that short break?
And how had he completed such a delicate inscription bare-handed in under thirty minutes?
“This is insane,” Barnaby muttered, voice trembling.
He nearly felt like tearing up every applied-magic text he’d ever written.
The monster standing below hid strategies beyond logic—
like a pit with no visible bottom.
Rein rolled his neck lightly, easing the strain after intense processing.
He strolled over, picked up the Twin-Core Scepter, examined its craftsmanship briefly—then carried it back to Timothy, who was clearly in no condition to retaliate.
The referee’s count echoed on.
“…7… 8… 9… 10!”
Count to a hundred if you want, Rein watching the referee. He isn’t going anywhere.
He squatted beside the fallen noble, watching the blond boy retch intermittently, barely conscious.
“If not for Magical Armor absorbing most of it,” Rein murmured,
“you’d be bedridden for at least a month.”
What no one else knew was that without stacking Might Enhance atop Haste at the moment of impact, Rein’s condition wouldn’t have been much better.
Action equaled reaction.
But reinforced to the limit, Rein had been a locomotive.
Timothy—just a car on the tracks.
What intrigued Rein more was what had happened during the break before the finals.
While everyone thought he was napping, he had been in the Mana Realm—experimenting with shortcutting mana conduits, inspired by Guinevere’s spiderweb-trigger boots.
Then he remembered Ouroboros wrapping Nightfall around his arm for defense.
Rein tapped the torn edge of his boot.
In a blink, jet-black ink flowed back across the surface, reassembling into a pen—so smoothly that no one noticed.
He slid it back into his cloak.
He could have had Nighty fully sheath his feet—new boots entirely.
But he didn’t want suspicion.
So he ordered it to mimic the same battered boots—holes and all.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
“Nighty footwear.”
Rein placed the expensive Twin-Core Scepter onto Timothy’s chest, then adjusted the young noble’s arms to cradle it tightly—
as if clinging to the last scraps of Viremont dignity.
Satisfied, Rein stood just as medics and officials rushed in.
He glanced at the referee—and then at Professor Barnaby, still frozen in place, notebook slipping from his grasp, eyes filled with questions begging to be asked.
Rein smiled faintly.
Time to collect.
Minutes later, on the award platform beneath hundreds of stunned gazes, Barnaby had a hundred questions burning in his mind.
Yet the first thing Rein did upon stepping forward was not bow.
He held out both hands—expectant.
Does this brat even realize what he just did?
That was applied magic so heretical it slapped every dusty academic in the face.
Barnaby sighed, shaking his head.
He retrieved both cards from his cloak, brushed a finger over the platinum one, and unlocked the wager per their binding contract.
“5,000 AC for the wager… and this—”
Barnaby paused briefly before tapping his professor’s ID card against Rein’s gold card to transfer the remaining prize money.
“Another 1,500 AC for this month’s champion reward.”
When the total—6,500 AC—appeared on the gold card’s display, Barnaby handed it back.
“Congratulations… you little monster.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Rein replied shortly.
He took the card and checked the balance again, eyes fixed on the numbers—barely sparing the floating, rotund professor a glance.
“Now then, since the financial matters are settled, let’s discuss the theory behind the positional displacement of those magic circles—”
Before Barnaby could finish, Rein sprang off the award platform and bolted toward where his friends were sitting—moving far faster than any “injured” person should.
“Sorry, Professor! I think I took some severe backlash earlier—my shoulder hurts so badly I can barely stand! I really need to get to the medical unit right now!”
“Wait! You little—get back here! H-hey—!”
Barnaby stood frozen on his floating chair, one hand stretched uselessly into the air.
His face twisted through several ugly shades—like a man who had just realized he’d stepped squarely into a pile of filth.
He watched the boy’s back vanish smoothly into the crowd.
Shoulder pain my ass! No one runs like that!
Barnaby roared inwardly.
Rein, meanwhile, paid no attention to the professor’s shouting.
He headed straight for the familiar stone bench where Mira and Boris were waiting.
Their positions had switched—now they sat facing him, the victor.
Numbers were already running through Rein’s head.
After paying off the 3,200 AC institutional debt—and about 500 AC to his two friends—he’d have roughly 2,800 AC left.
Buy new boots—keep it under 500 AC.
The gloom on his face lifted immediately.
It wasn’t enough to eat steak every meal—at least life wouldn’t feel so miserable anymore.
Mira glanced at Rein’s shredded boots and couldn’t help laughing.
Boris, clearly in a good mood after making a small profit betting on Rein, chimed in as well.
“If you’re planning on destroying your own shoes in another match,” Boris laughed,
“make sure you tell me in advance next time.”
Easy for you to say—you’re not the one paying for replacements, Rein grumbled inwardly.
“I’m heading to the central market,” Rein said. “You two coming? If we find something good, I’ll treat.”
“You were amazing, Rein! I was so tense I nearly bent in half watching!”
A voice called out from behind.
Rein turned to see a tall boy wearing a single monocle, grinning.
“You’re… uh… you are…” Rein hesitated.
“Kellen—Kellen Rowlack,” the boy said, his voice trailing off slightly, looking sheepish.
“It’s fine if you don’t remember me. I’m not exactly… memorable like you.”
“At the library—at noon!” Mira added helpfully.
“Oh—right. Kellen,” Rein replied with a smile.
Truthfully, Rein remembered the awkward boy waiting outside Room 402 perfectly well.
He’d simply pretended to forget—maintaining distance, just as the previous Rein always did.
If he suddenly became too friendly, people might start questioning him even more.
Honestly, I’m sure half the academy’s already suspicious.
Kellen beamed, clearly delighted that Rein remembered him.
He reached into his cloak and produced three white envelopes, handing one to each of them.
Rein opened his and found a palm-sized invitation card, handwritten with meticulous care.
Invitation
Event: Beyond the Enigma Society Gathering
Time: 17:00 sharp
Location: Beyond the Enigma Society Headquarters (see map on reverse)
Special Guest: Rein
Lecture Topic: Conclusions and New Principles in Corvus Topology
Note: Food and drinks… free
Rein stared at the card.
Corvus Topology?
As far as he remembered, he hadn’t agreed to be a guest lecturer.
“Whoa… sounds fun, Rein. You’re really famous now,” Mira said cheerfully, scanning the map.
“Yeah,” Kellen added eagerly. “Just having your name on the invitation already draws way more people.”
Then he looked at Rein with hopeful eyes.
“For now, we’re limiting attendance to club members only—but if today goes well, we might expand it next time!”
Rein sighed softly under Kellen’s sparkling gaze.
“Alright, alright. But just this once,” he said.
“No next time. Deal?”
Boris laughed and slapped Rein on the shoulder hard enough to almost knock him over.
“Then you better eat plenty of meat tonight—eat enough to last you through the future meetings you won’t attend!”
These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.
Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.
Key Characters (Update)
Timothy Viremont (Update)
A second-year student from a powerful noble family. Ambitious and arrogant, Timothy sees defeating Rein as a matter of restoring House Viremont’s honor, after Rein had publicly humiliated his older brother in a previous tournament. Wields a Twin-Core Scepter, a rare magical weapon.
Kellen Rowlack (Update)
An awkward but enthusiastic student from the library arc, now seen actively involved in Beyond the Enigma Society. Represents the rising curiosity and fandom around Rein's reputation.
Weapons
Twin-Core Scepter
A Rare-grade magical staff capable of casting spells from two opposing elemental sources: fire and water. Each crystal at the ends (ruby for fire, sapphire for water) is inscribed with high-grade elemental spells.
Combining two opposing elements in one weapon without triggering catastrophic mana interference requires a delicate balance of mana frequencies—a feat achieved by advanced crafting techniques and only manageable by highly skilled mages.
Originally meant for Timothy’s brother during AGMT (Advanced Grand Magical Tournament), it was instead used by Timothy in his match against Rein.
Inscribed Footwear / Nighty Footwear
An improvised and cleverly hidden enchantment built into Rein’s worn-out boots. He uses the inky form of Nightfall (his legendary living-weapon) to imitate the exact look of his old boots while embedding enchantments (like Haste) within them.
This allows him to trigger powerful spell effects through physical motion, such as tapping his toe.
Nightfall (Update Note)
Rein's sentient pen/artifact. In this chapter, Nightfall is revealed to be capable of more advanced shapeshifting—coating his boots invisibly and transforming back into its pen form unnoticed.
Magics & Spells
Fire Bolt / Icicle Bolt / Triple Scorch
Offensive elemental spells employed by Timothy using his Twin-Core Scepter.
– Fire Bolt: Rapid, mid-level fire attack used for direct engagement.
– Icicle Bolt: Summons sharp ice projectiles for ranged attacks and area control.
– Triple Scorch: An advanced, high-power fire spell that launches three converging arcs of flame simultaneously.
Notably, Timothy mimics Rein’s former tactics using delay and prediction, but Rein ultimately subverts them with unconventional application of basic spells.
Haste (Applied Variant)
A speed-enhancing spell traditionally avoided due to the severe physical backlash it imposes on the user’s body. Rein casts Haste at a critical moment to boost movement and impact force.
He inscribed it directly into his footwear using an embedded mana crystal—mimicking and refining a method seen previously from Guinevere’s “spiderweb-triggered” boots. This allowed him to bypass incantation and cast time altogether.
Might Enhance (Stacked Buff)
Though not explicitly named as such earlier, Rein internally notes that he stacked Might Enhance (a strength-enhancing spell) on top of Haste before impact, allowing him to strike with amplified force while mitigating the recoil of Haste. This double-buff strategy is extremely dangerous but effective.
Organization
Beyond the Enigma Society (Update)
An academic club or research group within the Academy. Kellen Rowlack delivers the invitation to Rein, Mira, and Boris to attend a lecture hosted by Rein (likely against his knowledge). The society seems focused on speculative or fringe magic theory.
