The stunned silence of the arena followed Ed all the way back to the competitor’s viewing area.
No one dared to look him in the eye.
The ‘trash’ of the Rothtaylor family had just defeated the Princess without casting a single visible spell.
Leaning against the cold stone wall, hidden from the prying eyes of the nobles, Ed closed his eyes.
The familiar mechanical hum vibrated in his skull.
[Calculating performance…
Tactical dominance confirmed.] [Main Scenario Reward processing…] [Arthur Leywin Growth Template: 10% Synced.] [Skill Unlocked: ‘Mana Rotation’ (Passive – Lv.
1)]
The otaku fragment of his soul immediately recognized the concept.
It was the classic ‘passive grinding cheat’ found in countless fantasy novels—a skill that allowed the user to level up while breathing.
Meanwhile, the King Grey fragment intuitively understood the exact mechanics: it was a magical adaptation of the continuous ki breathing techniques used by peak martial grandmasters.
[System Note: ‘Mana Rotation’ allows the host to passively absorb and purify atmospheric mana while conscious, eliminating the need to sit perfectly still to meditate.
Warning: It requires extreme mental multitasking.
Attempting this while walking might cause severe migraines or temporary aneurysms in a weak vessel.
Proceed with caution.]
Ed didn’t hesitate.
He willed the skill to activate.
Instantly, a sharp spike of pain hammered his temples.
It felt as if his mind had been split in two.
One half remained aware of his surroundings, while the other was forced to meticulously regulate his breathing and guide microscopic particles of wind mana into his fragmented core.
For a normal teenager, the mental strain would have caused them to pass out.
But King Grey was accustomed to maintaining absolute internal control while fighting entire armies.
He gritted his teeth, regulated his pulse, and within thirty seconds, the headache dulled into a manageable throb.
He was now passively forging his mana core with every breath he took.
A slow, but relentless march toward power.
He opened his eyes just as the announcer’s voice boomed again.
“Next Match!
First-year Lortelle Kehelland versus Second-year Janica Faelover!”
Ed stepped forward to watch.
These were two of his ‘pieces’.
He needed to know their exact capabilities.
Down on the platform, Lortelle stood with her usual empty, merchant smile, her hands glowing with pale blue frost.
Across from her, Janica looked nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
But the moment the match began, the gap in raw talent became terrifyingly apparent.
She didn’t waste mana.
She immediately summoned a barrage of ice spears, aiming for Janica’s blind spots to force a quick surrender.
But Janica didn’t even chant.
Three mid-tier elemental spirits manifested instantly around her to protect their beloved contractor.
A spirit of fire melted the ice spears in mid-air, while a spirit of earth slammed into the platform, creating a shockwave.
Lortelle’s smile vanished.
She conjured a thick ice shield, analyzing the attack patterns, trying to find a mercantile weakness in the spirit summoner.
But Janica’s mana pool was simply too vast.
A sudden gust of wind—a low-tier spirit attack—shattered Lortelle’s ice barrier and struck her right in the ribs.
Lortelle was thrown across the platform, tumbling hard onto the stone floor.
She tried to stand, wincing as she clutched her side, but the referee quickly waved the flag.
“Winner!
Janica Faelover!”
Janica immediately panicked, rushing forward to apologize to the girl she had just blasted away, but the medical staff was already carrying Lortelle out.
Ed turned away from the viewing area.
He had seen enough.
The academy’s infirmary smelled of sterile herbs and healing potions.
Lortelle was sitting on a white bed, her ribcage wrapped tightly in magically infused bandages.
She was calculating her losses.
Losing the match wasn’t ideal, but she had gathered valuable data on Janica’s spirit invocation speed.
It was a fair trade.
The door clicked open.
Lortelle looked up, expecting a nurse or perhaps a gloating noble.
Instead, her eyes widened slightly as Ed Rothtaylor walked in.
His uniform was immaculate, and his cold eyes held the same freezing apathy as always.
A genuine, amused smile spread across Lortelle’s lips.
So, the cold and ruthless survivor has a soft spot after all?
she thought.
“Mister Ed,” Lortelle greeted smoothly, adjusting her posture to look less injured.
“I must admit, I am surprised.
To think you would come all the way to the infirmary to check on my well-being.
Have you finally succumbed to my charms, or—”
“You’re injured,” Ed interrupted, his voice flat.
He walked up to the edge of her bed and analyzed her posture.
Bruised lung.
The healing magic will take at least three days to knit the bone completely.”
Lortelle blinked.
“Yes…
your assessment is frighteningly accurate.
But I assure you, it hurts less than it looks.”
“That is irrelevant to me,” Ed said, pulling a small, folded piece of parchment from his pocket and tossing it onto her lap.
“My trap perimeter needs structural reinforcement before the winter frost sets in.
I need two pounds of iron nails, a roll of steel wire, and five jars of beast-repellent sap.”
Lortelle stared at the paper, then up at him, her brain short-circuiting for a second.
“I came to verify if your injuries would delay my supply chain,” Ed continued, his tone purely transactional.
“If you are bedridden, I need to know if the Elte Company has a secondary drop-off protocol, or if I should consider seeking another vendor.”
Lortelle sat in absolute silence.
He hadn’t come to comfort her.
He hadn’t come to mock her loss.
He had walked across the academy solely to ensure his business partner wasn’t going to miss a delivery.
Suddenly, Lortelle burst into laughter.
She laughed so hard she had to clutch her cracked ribs, groaning in pain, yet she couldn’t stop smiling.
“You…” Lortelle wheezed, looking at him with a gaze that was no longer just mercantile, but deeply fascinated.
“You truly are a monster, Mister Ed.
Not a drop of human empathy.”
Ed didn’t smile.
“Are you capable of fulfilling the order, Kehelland?”
Lortelle wiped a tear from her eye, her predatory merchant smile returning in full force.
“Of course, my esteemed client.
I will have it delivered to the forest edge by tomorrow evening.
My legs work perfectly fine.”
“Good,” Ed nodded.
Without a “get well soon” or a goodbye, he turned around and walked out of the infirmary, actively rotating his mana with every step.
Lortelle watched the door close.
Her ribs ached, but her heart beat a little faster.
In a school full of fake nobles and naive heroes, a boy who treated her strictly as a business asset was the most interesting thing she had ever encountered.