Chapter 69: Bet (1)

After their unfortunate punishment, Professor Quinn moved on, rounding up the class and heading to the far end of the enclosure where the four mannequin-like figures stood.

“This, is a training dummy.” She stated, slapping its back casually.

The action caused the dummy to wobble slightly—the hexagonal-like transparent shield on its outside shining a yellow color resplendently for a moment.

“While it might look shoddily made, these training dummy’s can endure a tier four spell cast from an azure mage without much difficulty.”

Chatter broke out between the students. Would they be practicing their spells against the training dummy’s? That seemed like the most likely scenario.

“Based on the damage it receives, the shield spell will give off a radiance—allowing us to see the power of the attack. For instance…” she said, performing a straight punch, her body still facing the first-years.

The punch connected swiftly, causing the shield to glow a deep yellow color in response.

“That attack was on the level of a tier one spell. Does it make sense?” the professor asked, receiving some murmurs of agreement throughout the class.

“Excellent, separate into four lines. You’ll each have a turn striking the training dummy so I can gauge your attack power.” She explained, clapping her hands together. “Oh, and let me remind you—no magic…”

Her tone dropped, a wordless threat hanging in the air.

Most of the class glanced toward Melody—a sign that they had not forgotten who was responsible for their last round of punishment.

Melody lowered her head once more, unable to respond.

Michael felt a little bad for her, but he thought that this was beneficial in the long run for her character. Things could not always be solved with magic—a fact that was painfully obvious for those who were born either weak or ringless.

Since the young miss had come from privilege, such a lesson was valuable. Besides the spartan-like punishment of Professor Quinn, Michael was quite pleased with the combat class already.

“Alright, don’t dilly dally,” the woman said, gesturing for everyone to get moving.

She didn’t need to ask again. The first-years separated into four lines and took up positions in front of the training dummy’s. Braydon was at the forefront of one of the lines—since he seemed to be the most confident in his group.

“Now, I want you to attack the training dummy. Don’t use any spells or mana, or there will be consequences,” she added, cracking her knuckles threateningly. “And don’t think that I won’t be able to tell…”

The students paled in response.

Braydon was the first to walk up to the training dummy, his chest puffed out with confidence. Michael recognized the stance—it was the same one he wielded when they almost got into a fight the night before.

The guy loaded up his right hand from beneath his waist and performed a right hook, hitting the training dummy square in the jaw.

The hexagonal shield shine a dull yellow briefly before returning to normal.

“Alright good, next up.” Professor Quinn nodded, as if she expected the result.

But Michael did not feel like he could lose, not when he was so openly being provoked.

That punch was slow and predictable… Who would even let that hit them? He thought shaking his head.

While he’d never actually been in a fight before, Michael at least thought he was better. He watched as the students walked up and struck the training dummy, barely receiving a white glow with their attempts. There was only one student that exceeded Braydon’s strike.

Funnily enough it was his forgettable dark-haired lackey who threw a brutal overhand right, causing the shield to glow a deep yellow. The previously stationary training dummy actually moved from the impact—although it was barely more than an inch.

Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. If he was judging the shield color by the power rankings of the arcana rings—his strike was equivalent to a tier one spell—a strong one at that.

This surprise caused him to evaluate the teen closely. He was of average height with short cropped black hair and a forgettable face. Even as he walked past to return to the back of the line, Michael had trouble finding any distinguishing features.

He had no idea if the kid was a noble or a commoner, nor did he know his name. But the youth had now left an impression on him.

Perhaps its not just the one’s who are out in the open that I need to be most wary of, Michael thought, his mind working.

“It’s your turn man,” Rudy nudged him from behind.

“Ah, thanks.”

Michael was now up the front of the line, staring at the training dummy in front of him. He slowly walked up to it and evaluated the mannequin, deciding where the best point to strike would be.

Since he had no martial arts training, Michael knew no techniques that could be used effectively to inflict damage. Meaning the strike he threw would be purely based off his strength.

He felt multiple sets of eyes on him, watching to see his results—one of which was Professor Quinn, her eyes glowing with interest.

I definitely can’t mobilize my mana… he thought with reservation.

My legs are probably my strongest weapons, though I don’t really know the correct way to kick. But I should at least be able to match Braydon if I land squarely.

With his mind made up, Michael stood side on towards the training dummy, keeping his left leg planted with all of his weight. After a few moments he lifted his right leg and swung it around, using all of his strength to send a cutting kick towards the leg of the mannequin.

The moment it impacted, Michael felt a shock run up from his ankle all the way up his leg. It seemed he’d messed up the distance, not hitting the dummy with his shin as he’d intended.

He grit his teeth from the sensation, turning his attention towards the color of the shield.

When he saw the dull yellow glow of the shield, he let out a sigh of relief.

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