…In truth, Ihan didn’t have to accept that duel.

Why, you ask?

‘Because there’s nothing to gain from it.’

There was no advantage in accepting that proposal. More than anything,

‘What am I supposed to do with beings who aren’t even fully human yet?’

Young masters, saplings, chicks.

To him, these cadets were as fragile as small animals, with a long way yet to go.

‘There are a few who are better than your average knight, though.’

The descendants of the Barbarian and the Sword Clan, the disciple of the Mercenary King, and even our regressor.

Those ones are on a different level. Only they stand out; the others are severely lacking. To make an extreme comparison, it’s like eagles versus mice.

‘Are they even people if they’re weaker than the drill instructor?’

Ironically, the strongest among them, aside from those four, was Damien Follett. Ihan’s cadet of three years (slave). If the others were mice, then that one was at least a cat.

As expected from a famous knight family’s scion, his foundation was solid, and his mastery of combat techniques was also impressive. He was consistently showing progress in Ihan’s “Jumping over Steel Bars” training. Ridiculous as it might be, if the previously mentioned four are top-tier talents, then Damien could be considered upper-tier.

His personality is rotten, but in every other way, he’s impressive.

All in all, given these circumstances, Ihan had no interest in engaging in some petty game like a proxy duel. If he were to put them out there now, they’d just make fools of themselves.

…Yet.

“Instructor! I’ll do it, the proxy duel.”
“Would a knight fear some wizard and back down?”
“To think a spellcaster would dare challenge us, ha! That’s an insult to knights!”
“I’ll take their heads myself.”
“Send me. I’ll make those spell-slingers soil themselves at the very mention of the Swordsmanship Department.”

“…These punks.”

Well, they are cadets, but they’re certainly acting like knight candidates.

‘That’s right, a knight shouldn’t just stand by while a spell-slinger challenges them.’

They understand something.

‘These kids, they’re growing up well.’

Ihan discreetly wiped his nose as he hid his emotion.

He was beginning to understand the pride a teacher feels when witnessing his students’ growth.

Having felt the fierce will of his cadets, Ihan was somewhat inclined to accept that guy’s proposal. But first, he decided to hear out whatever nonsense he might say. As expected,

“‘The winner of this proxy duel will be obliged to follow the orders of the opponent throughout their career.’ …Did I read that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Ridiculous. What kind of childish condition is that?”

As expected, he’d laid out conditions that were not only absurd but downright offensive.

“Just decide if you’ll do it or not!”

Perhaps he realized that even he thought the conditions were excessive. How crude. He’s still quite young.

‘I guess I misjudged him because of his looks and tone.’

Wizards are so rare that there are naturally few in the academy. That’s why he could land a professorship at such a young age.

…Though, I can’t rule out the possibility that it’s also due to his appearance.

Beyond being a wizard and looking like he’s eighty-two instead of twenty-eight, he’s a mess.

He lacks forethought and can’t control his fiery temperament. If he matures a bit, those flaws might improve…

‘Or maybe he’ll just become a sneaky bastard.’

If he’s this reckless now, imagine him in the future with power and authority behind him. Such people become sly. Truly the type I hate dealing with.

But for now, he’s easy to handle.

“I refuse. There’s no benefit to me; why should I follow some spell-slinger’s orders?”
“Benefit! Rather, it means I’ll…!”
“You’ll?”
“…Obey your commands, and you don’t know what a valuable opportunity that is?”

Odwal quickly corrected himself, perhaps unwilling to face a fist. He was quite proud, though. After all, it was a rare opportunity to command a wizard. From his perspective, it was a carefully considered condition that held clear value.

“…I’m curious, what is it exactly you want to order me to do?”
“First, I’ll free Lady Irene from your clutches.”
“Anything else?”
“I’ll make you kneel!”
“…And after that?”
“Beyond that, well… Not much else.”
“…”

…What a lunatic.

All that, just for this? Even after Ihan revealed his incredulity, Odwal snapped,

“For the honor of wizards, I’ll do anything!”
“…I see.”

He’s an awful guy, morally bankrupt, and a blatant elitist, but somehow, it all feels so childish.

This guy, a professor of wizardry? It’s so absurd it’s almost moving.

‘I thought he’d introduce me to some hidden backer, but this is it?’

It’s not like human experimentation, it’s just a few orders.

‘Honestly, even if he swears this, I wouldn’t have to keep it. Truly….’

It’s an oath sworn on honor, but Ihan has no honor to protect. The same goes for an oath sworn on the name of the knights.

What matters to him is his own life and his hard-earned muscles.

“Fine, but don’t break your word.”
“I swear on the honor of wizards!”
“Then I swear on the name of Baltar Grace.”
“…Swearing on that name, fine! I trust it.”

Clap!

The foolish wizard grinned, as if he had already won, unaware of how little the name Baltar Grace meant to a knight like Ihan.

“-As some of you may already know, in a month, you’ll be engaging in a duel against the wizard cadets.”

“What kind of duel?”

“[War Game].”

“…Those wizards have used their heads.”
“Kunta, you don’t know what that is?”
“Simply put, it’s a simulated war.”
“?”

“Well…”

A War Game. Traditionally, it’s a game of dice rolls, strategies, and pieces moved across an expanded map simulating war. But recently, it’s taken on a new meaning.

For greater excitement, nobles have altered it into a ‘real war environment.’

Purchasing a forest or an abandoned field, they hire mercenaries or retired soldiers to fight, and the nobles watch. In his previous life, Ihan had seen auto-battling phone games; nobles had twisted it into an extravagantly cruel spectacle.

“…Playing with people.”

Kunta’s candid opinion. Arno nodded in agreement. However,

“While it’s not without faults, there are benefits too.”
“?”
“For knights, soldiers, and mercenaries, it’s an opportunity.”
“How so?”
“It’s a chance to gain combat experience, touching on war with little risk of death.”
“That’s possible?”
“By royal decree. Only fools would ignore the crown.”

“Ah…”

Kunta finally understood. For a Barbarian, it was invaluable to experience both combat and war without the fear of losing half in death.

“Some mercenaries even specialize in War Game missions. Right, mercenary?”
“Right. Good money in it. There’s competition for these gigs, heh.”

Though they disliked being a noble’s plaything, in the mercenary world, where jobs were dwindling, it was a lucrative gig.

Knowing this and having Garand’s assurance, the young cadets breathed a sigh of relief.

…But.

“Kunta has another question. Arno, you said the wizards used their heads. What did you mean by that?”
“Oh, that? It’s simple. Wizards have the highest win rate in War Games.”
“…Huh?”

…Everyone was stunned.

“In war, firepower is crucial. A destructive strike is more effective than raw strength. In War Games, magic is overwhelming. Though, with an instructor like yours, firepower won’t matter much.”

Everyone glanced at Ihan, who could probably destroy a fortress single-handedly.

But conversely,

“…Does that mean we’re at a disadvantage?”
“How can that be…!”
“Is this even okay?”

A tense mood spread. The young ones especially looked grim. The young masters weren’t fazed, but even they seemed troubled. They knew well how potent wizardry could be.

But even if they were tense, they weren’t ready to concede.

In the end, it’s knights who rule the battlefield. Even with overwhelming firepower, they can’t match a knight’s breakthrough and spirit.

So, as cadets aspiring to knighthood, they believed they could win, despite the odds…

“-By the way, young masters, you won’t participate in this War Game. Only you saplings will.”

-!!!?

A stunned silence fell over the cadets, and they all shared the same thought as they looked at their instructor.

…A madman.

No matter their reaction, Ihan was serious.

“You chose this. You wanted to fight wizards. You declared victory. So, you must keep your word.”

“Unfair? Not enough combat training? Don’t worry, you have a month.”

A month might seem short, but it’s ample time.

Someone can lose 20 kilograms in a month, and another can train to run a full marathon.

A month is enough for radical transformation.

“If you follow my lead.”

They couldn’t see it, but a cap was peeking out of Ihan’s back pocket, boldly claiming its presence.

A black octagonal cap.

It was plain, with no remarkable features, yet it exuded an ominous vibe.