"Director..."
Looking at the old magician who had just pulled her to his side to shield her from the aftermath of the battle, Yuri spoke respectfully, though her tone carried a trace of concern.
"Are you not planning to intervene?"
"Hoho, I’ll pass..." Ferras, clearly seeing through her worries, said with a gentle laugh, shaking his head and smiling kindly. "Youngsters’ things should be handled by youngsters themselves. An old man like me shouldn’t interfere so easily. Besides, even if I did take action, there’s nothing I could do about that boy. I’m not the opponent of the famed Lightning Sword Saint, you know."
He squinted with a mild smile, his words so humble that Yuri felt both relieved and nervous at the same time.
"Director, you must be joking..." Yuri replied helplessly. "Any Sword Saint wouldn’t dare be careless in front of you."
It was no exaggeration.
Even though Ferras did not have a record like Nibald—who had fought the Sword Saint to a draw—his strength was widely acknowledged, so he was certainly not much weaker than a formal Sword Saint.
In particular, he possessed remarkable depth and experience to the point that his endless repertoire of techniques was something even Nibald once admitted he could not rival.
He had mastered more Combat-Class Magic than Nibald and had dabbled in nearly every magical system. He also owned more magic items than anyone else—some were ancient relics excavated from ancient ruins, others were modern mystical artifacts crafted by his own hands with the support of modern magic technology.
Ferras was, after all, a Tactical-Class Magician.
If he ever caught an opportunity to cast Tactical-Class Magic in battle, even a Sword Saint might have to kneel.
Normally, in the ever-shifting chaos of combat, the harsh conditions and long chants required for Tactical-Class Magic left almost no chance to use it—yet he had succeeded in releasing it during an intense combat.
And he did so not with the help of his four attendants—each of whom had received the Sword Master Medal—to buy him time, but in a genuine one-on-one duel.
Such a fact was terrifying.
One must understand that Tactical-Class Magic was the kind of magic that could annihilate an entire army in an instant. If successfully cast in battle, even a Sword Saint would struggle to withstand it.
It was similar to when a Level 3 mage such as Lefiya unleashed her full power, where her magic could display the attack strength of a Level 5, wiping out even opponents who stood above her level.
Tactical-Class Magic carried that same overwhelming potential, allowing the weaker to defeat the strong.
Why was the Dragon Sword Saint, Efastin Tussanlo—the creator of the Holy Dragon Sword Style—still revered as the strongest Sword Saint even after centuries had passed?
It was precisely because his swordsmanship was powerful enough to allow a person to transcend human limits and withstand the bombardment of Tactical-Class Magic with nothing but their own flesh.
Ordinary Sword Saints simply could not accomplish such a thing, because resisting Tactical-Class Magic with one’s body alone was nothing short of suicide.
Hence, once a Tactical-Class Magician succeeded in casting their magic, even a Sword Saint would be forced to retreat.
Of course, this didn’t mean Sword Saints were afraid of Tactical-Class Magicians.
In a fierce and unpredictable battle, Tactical-Class Magic simply took too long to prepare. In that span of time, a Sword Saint could charge through enemy ranks seven times over and easily slay the magician long before the magic was complete.
However, Ferras was different, an exception, since he could successfully cast Tactical-Class Magic even in the heat of battle.
His endless Combat-Class Magic might not directly threaten a Sword Saint, but it could easily hold one off.
His countless magic items and mystical artifacts could also keep his opponents at bay while keeping him well protected.
Under such conditions, he could calmly chant Tactical-Class Magic without fear of interruption, and once he succeeded in releasing it, even a Sword Saint would have to kneel.
Consequently, many believed that if Ferras were to face a Sword Saint, the outcome would depend solely on whether he could restrain his opponent long enough to finish his chant.
If he could, he would win.
If he couldn’t, he would lose.
Understanding this perfectly, Yuri dared not underestimate this academy director in the slightest.
If Ferras were facing Riezel in a one-on-one duel, she would not have worried so much, but now, with Riezel entangled by the Shadow Knights, Ferras could easily take the chance to chant Tactical-Class Magic and gravely wound him in one strike.
Riezel, unable to use magic, might not be able to withstand the damage from such a magic with a mere human body, which was precisely why Yuri had tried to keep Ferras calm—to stop him from acting.
But to her surprise, Ferras himself had no intention of taking action at all.
"I’m getting old... I really can’t keep up with the times anymore..."
Ferras sighed with deep emotion as he watched Riezel clash at incredible speed against the Shadow Sword Saint and Shadow Knights.
"Everyone misjudged him... myself included..."
He truly felt a sense of complicated admiration when it came to Riezel, mainly because he had taken notice of Riezel a very long time ago.
Riezel was, after all, one of the rare few born with the natural talent to become a Tactical-Class Magician.
To achieve that status required not only an immense amount of magical energy sufficient to cast Tactical-Class Magic, but also at least fifth-grade compatibility in a particular magic system.
Although the requirements were not as harsh as those for a Strategic-Class Magician, they were still remarkably high.
How many Tactical-Class Magicians existed in Jinas?
Barely thirty in total.
Given that, a student possessing the innate talent to become one had immediately caught his attention.
Unfortunately, after observing Riezel for some time, Ferras had grown disappointed.
Having met countless people in his life, he could easily see that Riezel—or rather, the original Riezel—while talented, was severely lacking in other areas.
His character, though not vile, was unbearably shallow.
His conduct, though not disgraceful, was frivolous and arrogant.
More importantly, he had not entered Spriller Academy with the desire to become an excellent magician or achieve greatness in the world of magic, but had enrolled simply to become a noble, to climb above others.
In other words, becoming a magician was merely a means to an end for the original Riezel—a tool for status and ambition. He had no thought of accomplishing anything meaningful, nor any intention of contributing to his nation, his civilization, or the progress of magic itself.
Once he became a noble, he would have abandoned magic at once to enjoy a life of luxury.
Once he acquired a title, he would have cast aside all study and drowned in indulgence.
He merely wanted fame, wealth, power, and influence—not to become a great magician.
To see someone with such natural talent possess such a disposition... how could Ferras not feel disappointed?
For that reason, he soon lost interest in Riezel altogether.
It wasn’t until Riezel’s name reached his ears again that he was shocked to find how deeply that student, whom he had dismissed as hopeless, had hidden his true self.
A seventeen-year-old Sword Saint.
A seventeen-year-old Tactical-Class Magician.
Two monumental achievements that placed the once-disappointing student at the very pinnacle of Jinas.
Truth to be told, Ferras had still been skeptical until now and could hardly believe that ’that’ Riezel Brynhart could possibly be the same person.
Today, the only reason he had accepted Hendrick’s summons and come here was partly out of curiosity—to see for himself whether Riezel was truly as remarkable as the rumors claimed: the prodigy who had even earned the respect of Marquis Frenzel and proved troublesome for the King of Jinas himself.
And now, he witnessed it firsthand.
He saw Riezel’s calm and daring composure before Hendrick.
He saw Riezel’s poise and confidence even in front of so many powerful figures.
Only then did Ferras finally admit to himself that he had misjudged the youngster.
"Don’t worry."
Understanding what Yuri was anxious about, Ferras continued speaking and gave her a gentle smile.
"I’m not interested in whatever conflict lies between that boy and His Majesty. I only came to see him—to confirm what he has become."
"Now that I’ve seen him, I’m relieved. You staying by his side isn’t a bad thing."
"I won’t interfere. You can rest easy."
Upon hearing Ferras’s reassurance, Yuri finally let out a long breath of relief.
Since he had said as much, she naturally trusted his integrity, for he was one of the few who could afford to disregard the king’s authority.
Given his current standing—even though he was still a marquis of the kingdom and a court magician—Hendrick dared not casually order him around, considering his immense influence in both the magical and secular worlds.
Offending Riezel would mean offending one man and perhaps driving him away, but offending Ferras, then driving him away, would make Hendrick lose the hearts of countless magicians and common citizens alike.
For that reason, even if Ferras chose not to act and merely stood by watching, Hendrick would not dare speak a harsh word to him.
Of course...
"But now that things have come this far, a clash is inevitable..." Ferras said with a serious expression. "Stay close to me and just watch—that way you won’t get caught in the unnecessary aftermath."
"...Understood." Yuri, recognizing her own limitations, could only comply.
However, just as her words faded, the battle within the throne room abruptly changed.
Riezel, surrounded by the Shadow Knights, was suddenly seen suspended in midair, with Hermit already sheathed.
*BOOM!*
A thunderous roar exploded the next instant as wild arcs of lightning burst from his body, crackling violently before being drawn into the sheath like magnetized currents.
Engulfed in the storm of lightning, he bent his knees slightly—one hand gripping the sheath, the other resting on the hilt—assuming the stance of Iai.
Seeing this, everyone in the throne room was left in stunned silence.
"Not good!"
Rohm, upon seeing Riezel’s stance, had his face turn pale, making him look like someone who had PTSD.
He remembered now.
He remembered the technique that had defeated him before.
"Thunder Breathing - First Form - Thunderclap and Flash..."
Riezel, preparing to perform the ultimate form of Thunderclap and Flash, the fastest strike within Thunder Breathing, had his calm voice echo through the throne room, reaching every ear.
*BOOM!*
In that instant, a bolt of lightning illuminated the entire throne room.
===
[A bonus Chapter for every 500 Power Stones.]
[Support me and read next Chapters early at: /VALRRR]