"You can cast your spell first," the battle mage said as he waved his longsword, "otherwise, once I close in, the situation will become very favorable for me."
Malin shook his head, "No need."
The countdown ended swiftly, and the young man started with a trick in an attempt to disrupt Malin’s spellcasting while moving towards Malin’s empty side.
But Malin sidestepped, dodging the spark aimed straight at his face, and with a pause of his staff, he silently released a Fireball. It interrupted the young man’s movement, and as Malin took a step back, moving out of his charge range—a battle mage’s charge combined with Blink is a method that doesn’t even need a second to close in and unleash attacks. Malin had used it more than once to send apprentices flying, so naturally, he was on guard against this youngster.
Meanwhile, the silent Spell Formation was already more than halfway complete. The young man, realizing he was too far, tried another trick, but alas, it was an Illusion Technique, which Malin didn’t fall for at all. With the completed spell activated by a snap of Malin’s fingers, a lightning bolt shot from his hand. The young man parried it with his sword, channeling it into the air—a very standard battle mage maneuver, though it only worked against lightning bolts. If Malin had cast a Crumbling Rock and the young man had dared to block it with his sword, Malin could have smashed both the sword and its owner against the wall.
The young man wanted to press the attack, but his feet were suddenly entangled by vines that shot up from the ground. As he had to use his sword to cut them off, Malin, who had already started his fourth first-circle Spell Formation, slapped an Acceleration Spell on himself, then approached the young man. Once the latter had cut the vines, he boldly moved in on Malin, only to be swept away by a much stronger force. Malin flicked the sword from his hand; it flew out and was caught by an instructor, or it would have ended up among the apprentices.
Malin, taking advantage of the momentum, turned around, employing a wide and forceful Classic Staff Technique, best suited to a power-wielding mage teaching lessons to all manner of would-be heroes. However, since Malin hadn’t come up to kill, he struck the young man’s leg with the base of the staff, causing him to lose balance and kneel. Malin then turned back around and lightly tapped the youth’s head with the tip of his staff.
If he had hit with full force, the lad would have been in serious pain for several hours.
It was fortunate he wasn’t a member of the Evil Faction; otherwise, his head might’ve been a thing of the past.
Malin extended his hand and shook hands with the young man who was still in shock.
"You’re really strong, but you held back, you were playing with me, weren’t you?" The young man said awkwardly, realizing he had been bested in combat by Malin, the classic mage, over a battle mage. This fight had surely been recorded, likely to be a spectacle eagerly watched by mages everywhere.
"The truth can hurt, but yes, that’s the case," Malin found it hard to explain to him that apart from the moment when he flicked away the sword, he really hadn’t used much force at all, especially with that last tap—if he hadn’t controlled it, the young man’s head could have been gone.
The young man gave a resigned smile but proceeded to bow politely. As he raised Malin’s hand to kiss it, Malin knocked him to the ground with the staff and then walked down with an expressionless face.
"Girl, why did you hit him again?" the old Bishop from the Church of Night, standing beside the Church’s elder, asked somewhat perplexedly upon witnessing the scene—he could tell Malin had pulled his punches; otherwise, given the fight that had just happened, the young man would be clutching his head and howling in pain.
"I’m a man," Malin cocked his head, smiling at the approaching fellow instructors, "Any of you want to try fighting me?" The instructors scattered like birds and beasts.
Malin returned to the two elders, "I’m starting to feel a bit unhappy now. Is it my fault for not being well-known enough and for being too cute?"
"Certainly not your fault, young man, although you do indeed look not so much like a man, ah, what I mean is you look more like an elf," the Bishop quickly altered his opinion upon noticing the murderous intent in Malin’s eyes.
Malin was about to hit the old man, but upon hearing the latter half of his words, he wasn’t sure how to respond... it was maddening; was being handsome a crime too?
"Well, to be fair, if he were an elf, the lad would be a bit short," his own Bishop commented, then looked at Malin, "Young man, I have a suggestion for you. You might try styling your hair in a manly way. It could effectively prevent misunderstandings among the youth."
"Is that effective?" Malin glanced at Instructor Aemethalseerk, who was lightly touching the tips of his hair. Malin ran his hands through his hair, quickly forming a style somewhat similar to his own, "?"
He looked towards the two elders.
Both elders exchanged glances with a sense of speechlessness.
Malin fell silent, then had the urge to punch someone furiously.
But in the end, he didn’t manage to hit anyone, as the girls quickly came and dragged Malin away.
"Don’t be mad, Mr. Malin. You’ve always been the most handsome boy in my eyes," Jessica was consoling him.
"That man is so annoying, he’s obviously a creep. Can I call the police?" That was Maya’s remark.
"Let’s find an opportunity to hit him with a blackjack," Clovis suggested.