He, who fights I

My long-awaited battle had finally arrived. Although this was only the first fight and merely a facade, my opponent was a commoner who would undoubtedly fight with every ounce of strength to gain entry into the prestigious academy. His provocations alone told me he was determined to achieve his goal at any cost.

I readied my gloves, each adorned with mana crystals to compensate for my mana deficiency. The crystals shimmered faintly, a reassurance of the enhanced abilities they granted me. As we awaited the signal to start, I observed the man in front of me, stretching his body, cracking his neck, and preparing as if for an athletic feat.

Then I noticed the small swords sheathed at both sides of his waist. A thief class, perhaps? I presumed.

Thief class individuals focus on speed and agility. Their strength lies in their quickness, but brute force upon impact can subdue them. However, if mastered, they become nearly untouchable. The same applies when fighting against magicians. With their ability to perceive projectiles at near sound speed, they can evade with ease.

Fortunately, I am no mage. With my subpar level of mana, I might not even be qualified as one. To him, I am an enigma; he may even underestimate me, knowing I struggle with my mana.

That is based solely on his words, though. I am not fully certain.

"The fight begins!" The head judge's voice resounded throughout the arena. Immediately, daggers came flying at me. With my [Enhanced Sense] developed along my path of mastering [Fabrication], I evaded them milliseconds before impact.

However, more projectiles—rocks, stones, and other debris—rushed toward me. Panic surged through me, almost causing me to stumble.

I regained my composure just in time. The air was thick with tension, each of his attacks a testament to his relentless drive. My gloves glowed, and I harnessed the mana within them, ready to counter.

The commoner moved with astonishing speed, a blur of motion as he closed the distance between us. I focused on his movements, predicting his next attack. His daggers gleamed with deadly precision, aiming for my vulnerable spots.

This is bad. Though I'm not a mage, a magic user like me is highly threatened if the enemy is at point-blank range. 

I clicked my tongue in frustration and swiftly darted away from the man, my movements a desperate dance to evade his strikes. In my head, I frantically calculated the formula I created, each variable and equation flashing before my eyes in rapid succession.

Runic symbols flared to life in my hands as I was pursued, their glow a stark contrast to the encroaching darkness. Desperately, I tried to defend myself with the barrier I had cast at the start of the battle, the shimmering shield my only protection, even if it meant sacrificing my chance to win.

Now, let's review what I've learned within milliseconds. The mark of slavery from Lady Gemini is akin to a programming code, its complexity both daunting and fascinating. Such a code adheres to certain conditions that may or may not work according to its arguments. After a few days of practice in the dorm and a detailed recollection of the intricate marks imbued on her body, I surmised that the effectiveness of the restraint relies heavily on the structure's integrity, each mark a piece of a larger puzzle.

If I can recreate it within these gloves, I can subdue the man's swift movements for a while. But the slavery mark code has almost a thousand if not, tens of thousands of parameters, making it impossible to recreate even the [Permanent Restrain] spell that can only be removed after the battle ends. The sheer number of variables and conditions is staggering, a testament to its creator's skill.

So, I did something simple yet ingenious. By simplifying the code, creating only two functions I learned from the slavery mark, [AddRest] and [SpecEffect], I can perform the same spell the former mage cast on the armored noble, albeit with no visual effect whatsoever. It was a gamble, but one I had to take.

Since, unlike actual coding, the magic code doesn't necessarily require a library and has full control of the entire nature of mana itself, I can specifically mention the man's name and etch it into the program. But how? I have no means of knowing his name.

Crack.

A sharp, ominous sound resounded around me. My lack of awareness and the sudden onset of tunnel vision had betrayed me. One of the daggers had made its way to my body, the blade cutting through the air with deadly precision and shattering the outer layer of my magic barrier.

I clicked my tongue in frustration and glared at the man responsible for shattering my magic barrier. With a swift motion, I pointed my hand at him and cast several wind projectiles, reducing their mass to increase their speed. By using wind instead of solid objects, I accelerated the projectiles beyond the speed of sound.

This baffled the man, who had been relentlessly on the offensive. His eyes widened in shock as he realized the deadly precision and speed of my attack.

Losing his momentum, he retreated, regrouping to reorganize himself. Both hands were raised in a defensive stance, small daggers poised to deflect any incoming projectiles I might send his way.

However, his puzzlement grew when he noticed I was merely standing from a place where I was. He may have thought of the wasted opportunity that befell me, but that was not my intent.

"Commoner, I will grant you the honor to speak thy name." My voice cracked, adding an intimidating edge to my tone.

My eyes bore a dagger-sharp gaze into his, and as expected, it affected him. Despite his provocation, his true nature lay beneath his arrogant exterior. No matter what happened, even if the rules of the academy were enforced, there would never come a time when a commoner could stand on equal footing with a noble.

A mere word from us could destroy their lives after all.

"Acros," the man spoke weakly, his name barely audible over the distance. However, I suspected he was lying.

"Real name, peasant." My pressure, now at full force, brought fear to the man, making him click his tongue and bow his head.

"Jeremiah," he finally confessed, his voice trembling. His eyes were hidden, but I could sense the hatred simmering within them.

It was utterly ridiculous to command a commoner during a battle, but it was not against the rules as long as it did not directly affect the outcome. And, I was not intimidated by his murderous intent, for I had just gotten what I needed.