Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1440: The Drawing of Fates

The Drawing of Fates

Redrick was led through the Central Academy grounds by one of their teachers, his steps echoing faintly as they moved away from the main event area. Their destination was a separate building, a broad, high-roofed structure that resembled a magical sports hall.

From the outside, it looked grand enough to host a full tournament. But when they stepped inside, Redrick immediately noticed the difference: the place wasn’t open to the public. The stands were empty, the floor polished but unused, and the lighting was set low. Whatever this meeting was about, it wasn’t meant for spectators.

Five people had been called here in total, Redrick included, and as his eyes swept the room, he recognized four other teachers from various academies. One of them represented the Central Academy itself. Yet aside from them, the hall was silent and bare.

It didn’t take long before quiet murmurs began to pass between the teachers. None of them seemed to know why they had been gathered.

“Hey,” a voice called, breaking Redrick’s idle scanning. The speaker was a male teacher from BIMM Academy, leaning casually against one of the lower stands. “I wanted to ask, what’s Wilton been doing this year to bring in such talented students? The only reason Lee Roy’s with us and not the Central Academy is because of his… let’s just say special relationship with our principal.

“But you guys?” He gave a half-smile. “For you to pull off what you have? It’s incredible. You don’t happen to have some secret deal with another land, raising mages in secret, do you?”

Redrick gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to begin answering a question like that, though, fortunately, he didn’t have to. The sound of footsteps drew every gaze forward.

From the far side of the hall, the Grand Magus himself walked toward the stage.

As he ascended the platform, a magical device behind him flickered to life, projecting an enormous image onto the wall. Scenes from the past year’s battles filled the space, sparks of magic flying, bursts of light and elemental energy colliding, warriors clashing in moments of fierce spectacle.

By the time Ibarin reached the center of the stage, the teachers were watching him in silence. It wasn’t just the students who looked up to him. Even among seasoned mages, his presence demanded attention.

“It’s a pleasure,” Ibarin began, his voice carrying easily in the quiet hall, “to meet those who are shaping the next generation of mages. I imagine some of you are wondering why I’ve called you here, especially with several hours still left before today’s event begins.” His expression softened into something almost reassuring. “Worry not, no one is in trouble. This meeting is entirely about the event itself.”

The display behind him shifted again. This time, ten faces appeared, each one crisp and unmistakable. The teachers immediately understood. These were the ten students chosen to take part in today’s singles matches.

“This year,” Ibarin continued, “we’ve decided to change things up. Each academy is allowed to put forward two students instead of one. We also have, within our ranks, some of the finest healer mages not only in the academy, but perhaps in the world. That means we can afford to push the limits and give the audience a greater spectacle than ever before.”

His tone deepened, his gaze sharp. “However, there is an issue. Depending on the match-ups, a mage could be placed against an opponent who has an overwhelming elemental advantage. In those cases, the fights might feel… less than fair.”

“So,” Ibarin said, his tone shifting into something almost playful, “to build excitement, I wish to invite all of you here today to personally determine the opponents for your students’ matches.”

He tapped his foot lightly against the stage floor. A magical ripple spread outward, and in the center of the hall, a strange circular object shimmered into existence. Inside, ten glowing spheres floated, drifting in constant, hypnotic motion.

“These balls are numbered from one to five,” Ibarin explained. “Two of each number. The rule is simple, the teachers who draw the same number will have their chosen students face each other. Once you pick a number, you must immediately declare which student from your academy will be assigned to it. This, I believe, is the fairest method possible. And so there is no suspicion of anything happening behind the scenes… I have invited you all to witness, and participate, together.”

Murmurs passed through the teachers. This was unusual. In all the years of the event, nothing like this had ever been done before. The Central Academy had never needed such theatrics; no one in their right mind suspected them of manipulating results. Why would they?

After all, the outcome had always been the same. Year after year, the Central Academy’s representatives dominated every match. Last year’s champion had been particularly brutal, fighting through four opponents from the other academies in succession and still winning decisively at the end.

Traditionally, the event followed a tournament format, narrowing down to two finalists who would face each other for the title. This… was different. A reshuffle of the rules. Still, given the strange circumstances surrounding this year’s gathering, perhaps they truly did just want to change things up.

“Alright,” Ibarin said at last, scanning the group. His gaze settled on one person. “Since the star of the show so far has been from Wilton Academy… why doesn’t Wilton’s representative come up first?”

Redrick blinked, caught off guard. “Me?” He hadn’t expected to be singled out so soon. If they wanted to add this kind of twist, it might have been more exciting to do it on stage during the actual event, in front of the crowd. But perhaps there was a reason for doing it behind closed doors.

Still, if it was just a matter of picking numbers, there was little harm in playing along.

Stepping forward, Redrick approached the strange circular device. The surface was cool beneath his fingertips as he reached into the shimmering sphere. The balls inside seemed to dance away from his grasp at first, as though testing him, before one finally rolled into his palm.

He pulled it free. The number glowed faintly in his hand.

“One,” Redrick announced.

A hush settled briefly over the group as he looked toward Ibarin. “For this…” He gave his answer without hesitation. “I pick the student, Raze.”

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