2026-07-25 14:30:05
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Chapter 32: Physical Qualification and the Clothesline
While outside the arena Toby was busy building a makeshift pharmaceutical empire with a kerosene stove, Aster Vale knew nothing about the sudden wealth awaiting him. Aster's mind was focused on one thing alone: how to avoid paying fines.After obliterating the Orb of Arcane Veracity during the written exam, Aster had been warned by Professor Eldric that his Honorary Participant status came with terms and conditions. If he failed the physical qualifying round without a legitimate excuse, the academy reserved the right to revoke his honorary status and bill him for the destroyed crystal artifact. To Aster, the threat of a bill for tens of thousands of gold coins was far more terrifying than an ancient dragon attack.The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly over the Aethelgard Battle Stadium. At the center of the white-sand arena stood a giant, dark purple Obsidian Mana Stone. The stone emitted a heavy aura that nearly distorted the surrounding air. This was the second phase of the physic
Chapter 31: Toby and the Kerosene Stove
While inside the Great Hall Aster Vale was busy shattering a thousands-year-old ancient artifact with flea market profit margin theory, a far more miserable fate befell his roommate, Toby, outside the arena.Autumn winds blew hard across the courtyard of Aethelgard Academy, carrying a bone-chilling cold. Toby sat curled up on a used wooden crate, hugging his trembling knees. Stacks of cardboard boxes and burlap sacks filled with Aster's precious inventory surrounded him: rusty nails, cracked mugs, and various bits of junk salvaged from trash cans. As the Logistics Manager unilaterally appointed by Aster, Toby was tasked with guarding these items from being stolen by other scavengers.Damn it, Aster. You are inside sitting comfortably taking an exam, while I am out here guarding trash that even sewer rats would ignore, Toby grumbled, his breath puffing into the freezing air. His fingers were numb, and his stomach ached from skipping breakfast.He needed warmth. He needed hot water.Tob
Chapter 30: Chaotic Mana Theory Qualification
Morning at the Great Hall of Aethelgard Academy was shrouded in tension thick enough to slice with a sword. Thousands of wooden desks lined up neatly beneath a vaulted ceiling painted with ancient constellations. This was the first day of the Inter-Grade Internal Tournament: The Written Exam Qualifying Round for Mana Theory.Aster Vale sat at desk number 999, tucked into the farthest corner near the emergency exit. He had the face of a man who was being hunted down by loan sharks.He was not supposed to be here.Aster assumed his role in this tournament was purely as a manager sitting comfortably in the stands, eating boiled peanuts and cheering whenever Kaelen beat up arrogant opponents. However, the Honorary Participant Badge given by Senior Elian yesterday, born out of absolute terror of the Salted Fish, carried a lethal bureaucratic side effect. In the brick-thick academy rulebook, badge holders were automatically registered as Independent Participants and required to take the wri
Chapter 29: The Salted Fish Bribe
The afternoon sun shone brightly over the Administration Pavilion at Aethelgard Academy, but Aster Vale felt a chill run straight down his spine. He stood frozen in front of a massive gilded bulletin board, staring at a line of text that had just been rewritten in bright red ink.Inter-Grade Internal Tournament Registration Fee: 50 Gold Coins per Participant.Aster felt like his heart had just been tossed into a meat grinder. Fifty gold coins? That was not a registration fee, it was daylight robbery. With that kind of money, he could buy out the entire flea market in the lower district, stock up on every leaking pot in sight, and still have enough left over for a month of steak dinners.He reached into his tattered robe pocket and pulled out a small cloth pouch. Inside were twelve silver coins, four copper coins, and a button he had picked up that morning. His total net worth was not even enough to cover the fee for a single qualifying round, let alone the main event.“Master,” Kaelen
Chapter 28: The Arrival of Darius Vorn
On the morning after tournament registration, the plaza at Aethelgard Academy was blanketed in a thin mist and filled with the footsteps of students preparing for early classes. However, near a stone bench under a giant oak tree, a heartbreaking groan echoed through the air."Krek... Ouch... Dammit..."Aster Vale sat hunched over, clutching his neck and left shoulder with a grimace of pain. Last night, overwhelmed by headaches over capital and his ever-piling inventory of junk, Aster had fallen asleep on a stack of used cardboard boxes in the corner of his room. As a result, he woke up with a severe case of a stiff neck. His neck muscles felt like they were being yanked by wild horses, and his shoulder had hardened as if a brick were lodged under his skin."Master! What is wrong with your mortal vessel?!" Kaelen suddenly emerged from behind the tree, his eyes wide with panic as he took in Aster's pale face. Kaelen's hand instinctively flew to the hilt of his iron sword, ready to cleav
Chapter 27: Forced Registration
Aster did not waste a single second. The moment the Headmaster's magic projection faded from the plaza, he was already running through the crowd of cheering students. He clutched the cardboard box full of junk tightly in his arms, as if it were a diplomatic briefcase containing nuclear launch codes.A permanent shop. Tax-free. In the commercial district.For a junk vendor who was evicted from the dorm hallway just yesterday for lowering the aesthetic of a god, those three terms sounded sweeter than an angelic choir. This was not merely a tournament prize; it was a ticket to financial freedom and self-respect in the eyes of the bureaucracy. However, to win that sacred certificate, Aster needed a champion. He needed a sword. He needed Kaelen.Aster found the novel's original protagonist in the backyard behind the armory, a quiet area rarely visited by other students. Kaelen was swinging his cracked iron sword. Every stroke produced a sharp whistle through the air. Sweat soaked his acade
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