A Cruel Win

Licht exhales and stretches out his arm and open palm, "Spirit Magic: [Phantom Palm]." Susanne freezes in the air as she sputters and chokes. She struggles and flails, grasping and clawing at her neck.

Her face turns from red to purple as she loses oxygen. Her eyes widen and she stares at Licht with tears in her eyes, silently begging for mercy. The audiences' faces pale; what they were seeing was just too cruel. She couldn't even admit defeat if she wanted to.

Licht squeezes his fist one more time, before opening it once again. Susanne falls to the floor like a corpse; she coughed, trying to force her lungs to breathe. "You bastard," She choked out trying to look threatening as she stared up at Licht with hatred in her eyes.

She tries to get up on trembling limbs; Her knees buckle as she tries to stay on her feet. Susanne points her open palm at him, "[Fire Lance]." She manages this chant out with a smug grin, as she directs tens lances of fire at Licht.

"Water Magic: [Water Ball]," Licht mutters as ten of his projectiles appear above his head. He sends them off, giving each a lance to deal with. With his magic circle still open, he manipulates his magic and opens them out like a net; encasing the fire inside. It bubbles in the water but nothing more.

Licht watches Susanne, she had gotten her breathing even now. "Spirit Magic: [Phantom Hand]."

The world looked upside down to Susanne as she was taken off-balance from her legs. She's swept off her feet and is taken on a sideways flip. She loses consciousness as she falls head-first into the ground. It quiet, no one had any comments and the winner had not been announced. Licht looked towards Viscar; he clears his throat.

"The winner is Licht! Congratulations?!" Viscar gave an uncomfortable smile, the fight had given him shivers down his spine. And Spirit Magic? It still existed?! Spirits were supposed to be extinct.

Licht glanced back at Susanne; she seemed to be losing the strength to live. It also seemed like she had internal bleeding in the head. If she were to die now, it would be problematic for him.

He walks closer to her and crouches by her side, "Healing Magic: [Restoration]." A magic circle appears on the ground below her, and a green light covers her.

She gets a rosy color on her cheeks again and she is breathing evenly now. He checks her again and nods slightly when he notices that she is stable.

Viscar scrunches up his face in a scowl; Did this boy not have a thing called delicacy?! You can't just broadcast those different types of magic or else-

"Woahhhh! Healing Magic?!" A voice yelled. "Her skills don't correlate at all!"

"I'm telling you, man! That's a dude!!"

"And high-tier movement magic?! Only court magicians..."

"Three different attributes?! And two are unique magicks even!" The crow bustled at the sight of a new prodigy. Someone they had never seen before.

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Licht hummed a random tune as he walked on the familiar path to his dorm room. It was still quite a distance away and Licht continuously wondered to himself if he could just teleport there. Surely there wasn't a school rule against using magic, right? Right?

He runs his hand through his hair and his lips slightly tilt into a frown; should he? He sighs still trying to make a decision when he bumps into a large body. Viscar gives a strained smile as he looked down at Licht, "Let's have a little chat in my office." He says holding onto Licht's shoulder and tightening his grip.

Viscar speed walks towards his office; Licht follows not too far behind. As they get in, Viscar gets straight to business mode.

"We need to decide."

"Hmm? Decide what?"

"We need to decide on which class to give you." Licht tilts his head and points at himself, "But, I don't have a class. Even if I do, I can't tell."

Viscar shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. If you don't know, we have to make up a convincing class." He begins pacing; going around the couch and his desk repeatedly.

"Something that explains why you have so many attributes," He continues giving Licht a look. "And something that explains why you have Weapons Arts."

"I don't understand what you're saying. Why do I have to get a fake class?"

"The public," Viscar states with a dark expression on his face. "The way they dig for every little detail; how they always pester me..." Viscar's voice shook slightly. "I won't be able to make it. Let me tell you something, kid. The media world is a scary place."