BaiYun had a lot of questions for Arthur Valtor, the swordsman in shiny silver-white who tried to help him, but Arthur had to proceed with his third round of assessment, and there was no time to talk. With a pat on BaiYun’s shoulder and a sincere "Wish you good luck," Arthur left, heading towards his own challenge. BaiYun sighed and turned his attention to his own situation.

  In short, his odds of winning the duel were abysmal.

  From the starting village—the Green Village, or what remained of it—he had managed to bring only a few things: a hefty bag of gold coins, enough to sustain him for a while; some rather basic medicines, most of which were meant for livestock from his family's barn; a storage ring, which was undoubtedly the most valuable asset; and an assortment of water flasks, cutlery, and other mundane supplies he had shoved into the ring.

  But most crucially, the spells he could currently use were severely limited. Technically, he knew three, but he had never dared to cast Fireball. The system had warned him that using it would put him in a mana depletion state, leaving him completely drained for a full day. That was an unacceptable risk for a lone traveler like him. So, he knew the incantation, the theory, but the practical application remained untested.

  Of the two spells he had tested, one was Arcane Manifestation—what Hermann used to conjure that massive magic hand. This spell did not rigidly define what form mana would take; instead, it was a versatile arcane shaping ability. It’s just that Hermann had chosen to manifest a magic hand.

  So did Oliver Enzo.

  The name dragged up a flood of ugly memories from Alan Green’s head. BaiYun winced as they hit: a wedding day gone to hell—Oliver storming in with his mage guards, canceling it all with a sneer. Catherine, Alan’s fiancée, just stood there, eyes ice-cold, watching as Oliver ordered his parents slaughtered and the village set ablaze. Alan fought back, but he was no match—shoved face-first into the mud by that damn magic hand.

  “Ants stay where they belong,” Oliver had taunted, smug as hell.

  “Everything you have, your home, your woman, and that Mana Spring you don't deserve, is all mine now, simply because I want them.” Then he walked off with the Mana Spring’s secret, leaving Alan to choke out a dying curse—“You’ll pay for this”—in a pool of his own blood.

  BaiYun gritted his teeth. “That fucking Oliver and Catherine,” he muttered. “If I ever meet them again, I'll strangle them with their—”

  “Whoa, easy there,” the system cut in. “They are not your duel opponent. Hermann is. Focus.”

  “Fine,” BaiYun growled. His hatred was not unrooted. When BaiYun had absorbed Alan’s memories, the sensation of being crushed—his organs bursting under unbearable pressure—had nearly broken his mind. The helplessness of being pinned into the dirt had made him question his own worth.

  He swore he would never lose to that magic hand again. Never again.

  So, after mastering Arcane Manifestation, he devised a counter-technique—a reverse casting method to cancel out the manifestation itself.

  This was an entirely original spell. Of course, it was made possible by BaiYun’s Level 5 potential. That didn’t mean other mages couldn’t develop such a technique, but none could do so within a single day. Even Ola, a grandmaster of arcane spells, would have needed at least a month.

  However, a more practical concern was that Arcane Manifestation wasn’t a particularly powerful spell. It was primarily used to overpower those without magic. There were already numerous ways to counter it, so designing a specialized anti-technique was, in most cases, excessive.

  Still, for BaiYun, it had proven useful against Hermann.

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  “I need intel on Hermann Thorisson,” BaiYun requested after finishing his assessment.

  The system quickly scanned for information and responded: “The Thorisson family’s territory is in the western region of Auffre Kingdom, centered around Thunder Fortress, known for its stability and prosperous citizenry.”

  BaiYun rolled his eyes and cut in. “Get to the point already. I’m fighting him, not planning a gap year in his hometown. I need combat-related information.”

  “He primarily wields lightning magic. His signature spell is called ‘Stormclad Armor.’ This spell serves both offensive and defensive purposes, creating a two-meter-wide electric field around him. Any opponent entering that range is immediately struck by lightning. In one recorded battle, he fought a marauding griffin in his territory. Despite its aerial advantage and razor-sharp talons, the griffin stood no chance—it was electrocuted before it could even get close.”

  “Can you be more specific, eh?” BaiYun pressed.

  The system elaborated, still using the griffin battle as a reference. When the beast dove for an attack, Hermann had timed his response perfectly—lashing out with a lightning whip to ensnare it. Then, using the momentum of its dive, he dragged it straight into his electric field. The moment it was within range, he unleashed a Lightning Strike spell. Amplified by the electric field, the griffin was fried alive.

  The phrase "fried alive" made BaiYun briefly wonder if roasted griffin tasted like fried chicken, but he quickly refocused on his preparation.

  “What’s the deal with lightning magic and that whip?” he asked.

  The system shifted into an explanatory mode. “Elemental Magic is categorized into four primary elements: fire, water, wind, and earth. Lightning magic is a compound element, created by combining wind and fire. The lightning whip is essentially an Arcane Manifestation infused with lightning magic.”

  BaiYun’s mind sparked with ideas. “Wait a second. You’re saying lightning is a combination of wind and fire. So, does that mean lightning spells work by using wind magic to generate high-speed airflow, forcing air molecules to collide violently, which then ionizes electrons and creates charge buildup? And then fire magic is used to ignite the process, triggering the discharge?”

  “What a fucking nerd. But yes, if you explain it in Earth’s scientific terms, that’s accurate.”

  BaiYun had already learned Fireball, meaning he understood how the ignition process worked. The quickest preparation he believed he could make now was to attempt an inverse spell targeting the ignition process. The idea was simple: if he could disrupt the ignition, lightning couldn’t form.

  The system interjected, “If you want to disrupt ignition, why not just learn a water spell? That would be faster than developing a new counter-spell.”

  “Did you even hear yourself? Pouring water onto lightning? Are you serious?”

  The system also reminded him that the orthodox counter to lightning spells was earth spells, but BaiYun said it was "not cool," so the system wisely shut up and let BaiYun proceed with his spell development.

  Roughly 90 minutes later, BaiYun had figured out the theoretical framework for counteracting the ignition process of fire-based spells. He hesitated to test it—if it drained too much mana, he might not have enough left for the duel. But he was also terrified that his entire line of reasoning might be flawed. Taking a gamble, he conjured a tiny flickering flame on his left palm, then used his right hand to cast the new spell. To his relief, the fire vanished instantly.

  For his final preparation, BaiYun wanted seawater. He figured that saltwater and lightning would make for an interesting combination. But the academy wasn’t near the sea, so he had to improvise. He headed to the academy’s kitchen, grabbed a large, lidded jar, filled it with water, and dumped a generous amount of salt inside. Then he shook it vigorously until the salt fully dissolved. He put the jar into his storage ring.

  With that, he felt ready for the duel.

  “Alright,” he said, grinning. “Let’s see if Hermann can handle this."

  The system stayed silent for a beat, then murmured to itself, “He looks happy, doesn't he? Almost forgot how this mess started…” Its thoughts drifted, pulling up a memory it hadn’t shared.

  In the vast emptiness of the void, two voices echoed.

  “The audience is growing tired of Oliver Enzo,” one said, sharp and anxious. “Same old cycle—drinking, killing, women. He barely uses the system, just charisma spam.”

  “It has been ten years,” came the cold, mechanical reply. “We can introduce a new actor.”

  “But if they don’t like him, we'll have to wait another decade,” the first voice fretted.

  “Enough, the story of vengeance alone would put on quite a show here.” the second snapped. “A new actor, a carefully chosen one, enters the stage. He takes that petty worm, Alan Green’s body and challenges Oliver Enzo. Start a poll—what system should he have?”

  After a pause, the first voice faltered. “They… they want the most useless system imaginable.”