My magic power now? Roughly a second-tier instructor. Back at the Academy, I'd be top twenty.
Power was only one piece. The sorcerers I'd killed. Each smarter than me. But their combat experience? Pathetic. They fell for my tricks, again and again. Seluvis, too. He underestimated me. The professor, with his puppets, didn't understand.
Power doesn't equal combat.
As long as the gap wasn't too wide, a threat remained. Sword strikes, hidden weapons, magic — all could end a life. Months in The Lands Between. Over a hundred lives ground into a whetstone. I'd integrated my swordsmanship with this world's power. Magic? Mastered, creatively. The physical fitness of a veteran Cuckoo Knight. A slight advantage of time and place. Even a magic professor would die regretting their choices.
Risk meant reward.
Now, things had calmed. I felt like I was winning. A total victory. Pride flickered, but mostly it felt inevitable. I remembered when I first took this body. A low-ranking Cuckoo Knight could have killed me. Slaughtering my way out of Caria Manor. To Raya Lucaria Academy. Then, from the Academy to the border of Liurnia. One bitter battle after another, atop a pile of over a hundred corpses. Finally, this. "Teacher, am I strong now?"
I opened my eyes, asked.
Sellen, beside me, set down her notebook. Pinched it, pondered. Finally, shook her head. "Your teacher doesn't know."
"Is there something you don't know?"
"I'm not a goddess. Why should I know everything?" Sellen smacked my head with her notebook. Deep thought creased her face. "Plenty are stronger than you. Even I can't figure how they fell by your hand. If not for your miserable appearance, I'd think some Golden Hero had been resurrected. Tsk. Ghost knows how Caria produced a freak like you. And the Princess of the Moon was willing to send you out."
Sellen couldn't figure it out. The people of Raya Lucaria Academy couldn't either. But I knew.
"This is the Ashina Style."
"Ashina Style?"
"Yes. A style that uses any means necessary to kill the enemy."
I, in raw power, am nothing compared to Seluvis. But when it comes to the art of cutting people...
Thorne held up his thumb and forefinger, a tiny gesture. "I'm a little better than him."
"That sounds awful." Sellen blinked, recalling the night before. Seluvis had stumbled, step by step, straight into the mud. Lost his head.
Thorne exploded with laughter. "Hahaha. The highest praise." The laughter tugged at his wounds. He stopped abruptly. "I told you not to push yourself."
Sellen shoved him back onto the bed, annoyed. She clapped her hands. "Can't be helped. Only your teacher can look after you, now."
Thorne felt no gratitude, only suspicion. Did this teacher even know how? But he could not refuse her kindness. He pointed at the cup. "Teacher, could you pour me some water?"
"Of course. Wait." The sorceress picked up the cup. She left. Never returned.
Thorne lay there, waiting, waiting. Almost asleep.
Sellen finally returned.
"Silly apprentice, you're hurt. Plain water won't do. I went to the army camp's Perfumer for tonic. Drink it."
"Thank you." Thorne took the cup. A sharp smell hit him. He looked down.
Hiss
The cup held a dark purple liquid. Bubbling. Unidentified solids floated within the bubbles, like tiny limbs. Tonic? Poison, maybe?
Sellen urged from the side. "Drink it quickly. I found this secret recipe in some old texts."
Oh, right, to help you recover quickly, your teacher will also be responsible for adjusting your meals from now on.
Clink. The water cup landed on the chair nearby. Sellen frowned. Thorne's eyes rolled back. He collapsed onto the bed, foaming.
His hand, under the blanket, clenched. He had made a firm resolution.
No. I have to get well fast. I won't die at Seluvis' hands. This teacher's dark cuisine will be the end of me.