Misfit At Magic Academy: They Wanted a Godly Summon, Got Me Instead
Chapter 31: Lightbearer vs. Stone Reaper — Round Three

Chapter 31: Lightbearer vs. Stone Reaper — Round Three

"So, how long have you been waiting for me?"

Under the crimson sunset, Aimer approached me as I sat by the fountain. The confident glow once shining in her bright eyes had faded after hearing about my upcoming fight with her brother.

"I just got here."

"Don’t lie to me, Atheron." Her voice cut like a blade. "I heard your sister—mistress—explicitly forbade you from taking part in the duel. Knowing you, I doubt you talked her into anything.

Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here since the last class?"

I remained seated, watching the birds bathing under the fountain’s spray. She sat beside me.

We silently watched the students exiting the academy, one by one.

"Still, thank you for coming. I thought you’d be furious. I spoke with my brother—told him everything—but clearly, he still doesn’t approve of your company."

"Aimer. Give me one good reason I should fight him."

"There isn’t one." She looked down. "Honestly, I feel guilty. Because of my persistence, you went against your own judgment. Look... you don’t have to go through with it—"

"No," I cut her off. "I want to understand why this matters to you. This mage tournament—why is it so important? Will it determine your fate? Bring glory to your family? Frankly, I don’t see this tournament offering any real honor."

"That’s where you’re wrong!" she snapped. "You’re a noble. Of course you wouldn’t understand. Noble blood runs in your veins. No wonder you see this tournament as nothing but a waste of time..."

I looked at her carefully.

"Maybe. But why does it mean so much to you?"

"No one had even heard of House Grimmveil before my brothers and I joined this academy. We’ve done everything we could to prove we’re no different from the noble-born. I’ve poured years of effort into getting this far, just to earn something—anything—for my family. But..."

"But what?"

She fell silent. I noticed her hands trembling.

"What would you know? You already have everything. People like you see people like me as nothing but dust."

I glanced up at the sky.

"So you’re chasing after something as hollow as recognition? That’s foolish."

"I knew you’d say that," she bared her teeth. "You’ll never understand what rewards truly cost! I’ve fought tooth and nail for every scrap of strength I have. I gave everything just to make it here.

I come from nothing. I’m not even gifted. And yet, I’ve managed to achieve something... This tournament only happens once every five years, and the winner receives not just a prize—but the academy’s public praise.

I have to win. I have to take first place!"

"Then why not partner with your brothers? They’re strong too."

"...They each joined other teams."

"Why? Do they not care about your family’s honor as much as you do?"

"I don’t know. They just... told me it was already decided. In the end, I was left on my own. I searched for a teammate for weeks. No one wanted to partner with someone who wasn’t gifted. Everyone thought we wouldn’t make it past the first round."

That bitter feeling—of being betrayed by everyone. I knew it well.

It hollows out your chest. Makes you feel like the entire world’s turned its back on you. Like you don’t matter.

But for her... it mattered.

"I just didn’t think everything would fall apart like this... If Sylas and Tyrion win, they’ll at least put our family on the map.

But I want to be the one to hold up the trophy. I want to earn it with my own strength—not by relying on theirs. That’s why I came to you. I knew you wouldn’t even listen, so I made a desperate move...

Thank you, Atheron. But my request backfired. I’ve thought it over. You don’t have to help me anymore."

"Hm? So you’re giving up your goal? Walking away from the trophy you’ve worked so hard to reach?"

"No. I’ll find another teammate. Maybe they won’t be as strong, but... I can try. Don’t fight my brother. You don’t have to."

There was a bitter smile on her face. She was trying so hard to convince me that everything was fine.

"If you go through with this, you might lose everything — no trophy, no victory."

"I know. Sometimes, life doesn’t go as planned. I’ve gotten used to that.

I always knew... no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be as strong as the rest of them."

Her words sparked something in me. My pupils froze. I started remembering the days I’d doubted myself.

The miserable, spineless days.

"No," I stood up. "I don’t think you should give up that easily. Especially when your goal is just one step away."

She looked up at me, confused.

"What are you talking about, Atheron?"

"I’ll help you."

"Request denied!"

"Too late. You started this. No backing out now."

"B-but my brother—"

"All the more reason to put him in his place. From what you’ve told me, he needs a good lesson, doesn’t he?"

Aimer looked stunned.

"You don’t have to do this, Atheron... really, I can handle it myself, I swear!"

"Stop backing down. You came to me for a reason. And now, thanks to you—I know why I have to fight your brother.

You three share the same blood. So you should face everything together."

She was shaken by my words. But something inside her flickered to life again — a light that had dimmed before our conversation.

Two hours later.

Sylas lay on the ring, bleeding. Blood soaked the arena floor. I stood motionless.

"This whole fight was just to..." Sylas coughed. "...scare you off. I didn’t believe in you—not for a second. But fighting you made me realize... Aimer chose a damn good partner."

His eyes closed.

"The bleeding won’t stop!" a healer shouted.

The crowd stirred in panic.

Meihua, seated on the balcony, jumped down in alarm. Her black hair caught everyone’s attention.

"P-Professor Meihua!"

"You won’t stop the bleeding like this!" she commanded. "His internal organs are damaged. Bones shattered. Step back immediately!"

She placed her hands over Sylas’s torn body.

"Supreme Light: Angel’s Heart!"

A massive surge of radiant energy poured from her palms, enveloping all his wounds. Muscle fibers regenerated, bones reformed, blood vessels sealed.

"Take him to the infirmary at once. My spell healed the injuries, but his life force and mana will take days to recover!"

"Understood, Professor."

The student council carried Sylas away.

Meihua turned to me. Her fox-like eyes assessed me with a fierce gaze. She was a woman in her early twenties, her features marked with Eastern lineage.

"You use Light, don’t you? And yet you know no healing spells?"

I didn’t respond. My vision darkened. I could barely remain standing.

I had poured everything into this fight. My mana was gone. My body—exhausted.

I opened my mouth to speak—

—and collapsed.

Lirael rose from her seat in alarm.

"Atheron!!"