"Vivian, and Li Wei." The old mage called out two names, but when his gaze fell on Vivian, it carried a warmth and even a hint of fawning.
Vivian rose gracefully, offering a slight bow before stepping lightly onto the platform. She was the darling of light magic, a natural-born wielder, while Li Wei excelled in fire magic.
The two began chanting, trading attacks and defenses. Fang Zhiyi watched intently, nodding occasionally and jotting down notes in his notebook.
Li Wei lost, but fortunately, the old mage knew basic healing spells and quickly restored him to health.
After bowing and stepping down, Vivian didn’t return to her original seat. Instead, she walked straight to Fang Zhiyi’s side and sat down beside him, surprising the onlooking students—especially Rhein, whose expression darkened.
Fang Zhiyi had been focused the entire time, almost like an observer auditing the class. But when the princess sat beside him, he frowned.
"Don’t be afraid. Your opponent isn’t strong either," Vivian said softly. Fang Zhiyi turned to her in surprise, and she playfully winked at him.
She had already decided—she would make full use of this pawn again. His power to destroy a kingdom would be her greatest trump card.
"I don’t quite understand," Fang Zhiyi said, blinking nervously.
To his shock, Vivian reached under the table and took his hand. "Don’t worry, I’ll cheer for you."
Fang Zhiyi took a deep breath. Well, that explained it. In the original storyline, Vivian had never approached him before he was exposed as a necromancer. Her sudden change in behavior could only mean one thing—this Vivian had somehow been reborn. Even "Little Black" couldn’t detect the anomaly, which meant... magic.
The old mage glanced at Fang Zhiyi, his gaze tinged with disdain. He believed students like Fang Zhiyi, with their lack of talent, were a waste of the association’s resources, the kingdom’s money, and his own time.
"Next pair—Ross and Fang Zhiyi."
The moment the words were spoken, all eyes turned to Fang Zhiyi, filled with mockery. Only Vivian gave him a discreet thumbs-up, while Rhein’s expression soured further.
In previous combat drills, Fang Zhiyi had almost always been on the receiving end of beatings—sometimes even surrendering outright.
Hearing his name, Fang Zhiyi snapped his notebook shut with a crisp "thud." "Alright!"
Ross looked at the so-called "useless" student before him, his face twisting slightly in displeasure. "Teacher, can I switch opponents?"
He didn’t enjoy bullying others, and sparring with Fang Zhiyi offered him no real benefit.
"The bottom-ranked and the second-to-last—who else would you pick?" The old mage’s tone was teasing, drawing laughter from the class.
Ross’s face flushed red. His plump frame shifted uncomfortably. "But he—"
Someone from the back called out, "Ross, just focus on defense and let Fang Zhiyi attack. Easy, right?"
Fang Zhiyi turned and met Vivian’s beautiful face. She smiled at him, her expression as gentle and understanding as ever.
Ross sighed and assumed a stance. "Go ahead." Even as the second-to-last, he could still crush Fang Zhiyi effortlessly.
Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Here I come?"
Ross nodded, his eyes filled with pity. When would this guy realize the gap between him and the others?
In the next moment, Fang Zhiyi chanted a spell and flicked his wrist, sending a thin blade of wind toward Ross. It collided with Ross’s barrier and dissipated almost instantly.
Ross sighed. Just as expected—even as a fellow wind mage, Fang Zhiyi’s mana reserves were pitifully small.
Fang Zhiyi glanced back at Vivian, who smiled at him again. Blushing, he turned away. "I’m going all out now, okay?"
Ross followed his gaze to Vivian. So the princess was cheering for him? Lucky guy.
The moment Ross turned back, Fang Zhiyi suddenly lunged forward—and threw a punch. Ross hadn’t expected him to resort to the least likely tactic: physical combat! In a panic, he hastily erected a barrier, though he doubted this scrawny kid could even hurt him. But the sheer force behind that punch—
"Bang!" A crisp sound rang out as Fang Zhiyi landed and took a step back, examining his fist. "Huh, so that’s how it is."
The old mage crossed his arms and addressed the class. "A clever idea—he has so little mana that he concentrated it into a single point for a breakthrough. But, well..." His tone dripped with disdain. To a true mage, resorting to fists was downright shameful.
"You okay?" Fang Zhiyi asked.
Ross raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?" He felt perfectly fine.
"Then I’ll keep going." Fang Zhiyi darted forward again, this time even faster.
"He’s channeling mana into his legs—a wind magic trait," the old mage explained dutifully. But wind magic was nearly useless offensively unless paired with fire. Fang Zhiyi had entered the academy as a wind mage—the weakest of the weak.
When Fang Zhiyi threw his next punch, his mana surged back into his fist.
Ross suddenly felt uneasy. A deafening impact echoed in his ears, time seeming to freeze—followed by the sound of something shattering.
"Fang Zhiyi just shattered a wind barrier with his bare hands?!" a student gasped.
The old mage scoffed. "The bottom-ranked and the second-to-last—nothing special."
But Fang Zhiyi didn’t press the attack. He stepped back. "Get ready."
Ross snapped out of his daze, truly looking at the academy’s "worst student" for the first time.
Fang Zhiyi struck from every angle, his movements growing smoother. At first, Ross’s speed allowed him to keep up his defenses, but soon, he felt his mana draining rapidly—while Fang Zhiyi showed no signs of fatigue.
"Stop! I forfeit!" Ross’s greatest strength was knowing when to quit. His face was pale; maintaining so many barriers had nearly emptied his mana reserves.
Fang Zhiyi paused, reluctantly unclenching his fist.
The students outside the arena fell silent. Using fists against magic? That was absurd.
The old mage, ever the experienced one, explained, "For him, this method is smart. He’s only using minimal mana, so even his meager reserves last. But if Ross had counterattacked while defending, he’d have been helpless."
Vivian was mildly surprised. Even without necromancy, this guy had some tricks—though ultimately useless.