The room was dead silent. Alys, Magna, and Light all froze like statues, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief at what they'd just heard. Merlin, however, looked completely unbothered, tilting her head slightly as though the silence confused her.
"…What's with the weird looks? Did I say something wrong?" she asked, genuinely curious.
Alys blinked several times before blurting out, "Wrong? You just implied you bathe together with YOUNG Ragnar!" Her voice cracked in disbelief.
Merlin cleared her throat, her expression utterly blank.
"So that's… not normal?" she muttered. "Man, I keep forgetting what counts as 'acceptable behavior' around here. Five years in this country and I'm still adjusting."
Alys shot up from her seat, pointing at her like she'd just confessed to a crime.
"'Not normal'?! Of course it's not normal! That's COMMON SENSE!"
Magna folded his arms, nodding. "It's indecent. Absolutely inappropriate."
Merlin raised a brow, completely unfazed.
"Why though? If I'm in charge of him, making sure he's clean is part of my job. And honestly, it's efficient. Two birds, one bath."
"Two birds—WHAT?!" Alys shouted, her face red.
"See? This is why I like Light better," Merlin said calmly, gesturing at him. "At least he's not overreacting."
Light scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"…Well, honestly, I thought this was normal noble stuff. Like, weird rich-people habits. But now that I think about it… yeah, maybe it's not."
They kept bickering for what felt like forever, their voices overlapping in waves of chaos. Finally, Ragnar—who had been upstairs this whole time—walked in with a tired look.
"Do you guys ever shut up?" he muttered, tugging at the collar of his freshly changed outfit.
Everyone froze.
Alys's jaw dropped. Magna's eyes went wide. Even Light let out a low whistle.
Ragnar had his dreads tied back neatly, dressed in finely cut noble clothing that highlighted his sharp features. His posture—though a little reluctant—carried a presence none of them had felt from him before.
He looked like a completely different person.
"…Why are you all staring at me like that?" Ragnar asked, feeling the weight of their eyes.
Merlin clasped her hands together and practically sparkled.
"Ragnar, you look breathtaking when you try. Like a prince straight out of a fairy tale!"
"She's not wrong," Light admitted with a smirk. "Before you looked like some delinquent skulking around back alleys. Now you look… refined. Dangerous. In a good way."
Magna nodded slowly, mesmerized. "Yeah. You look… noble. Like someone important."
Alys blinked, still processing. "…Wow. Just… wow."
Ragnar rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
'Did I really look that bad before?'
Merlin's eyes narrowed, her voice suddenly sharp.
"Putting that aside… Ragnar. You've been gone for days. Which means training, right?"
Ragnar straightened slightly. "Yeah. The old man's been working me hard. Combat, mana control… the basics."
Merlin's expression flickered—shock, then disbelief.
"…Mana control? You can use mana now?"
"Yes," Ragnar replied calmly. "Turns out I have an affinity for fire… and portal magic."
The silence that followed could've shattered glass.
"…Back up," Merlin finally said. "Did you just say portal magic?"
"Yeah."
Her voice cracked. "What—how—WHEN?!"
"After we figured out the problem, the rest was easy," Ragnar explained. "Turns out it wasn't that I had low reserves—it was the opposite. I've got too much mana. I couldn't control the output."
Merlin's jaw clenched. "…That explains everything. That's why I couldn't sense your levels. Your purity was too high. Too… refined."
"Exactly. Now that I can control it, I've got a real shot at advancing to ninth-grade knight."
Merlin's maid outfit suddenly glowed, shifting into shining green battle armor. The atmosphere shifted instantly—light banter gone, replaced with deadly seriousness.
"Then I want to see it," she said flatly, summoning a blade made of pure mana. "Let's test your strength, Ragnar."
Ragnar grinned, summoning his flaming katana. "Sure. I won't hold back."
They walked out to the training field. The air was thick with tension. Alys stepped forward to act as referee, her face set.
"Both combatants ready? …Begin!"
Ragnar dashed forward, blade igniting the air, his stance unrefined but his speed monstrous. Merlin parried easily, her movements elegant and practiced—but Ragnar didn't relent. He pressed forward again and again, sparks flying as flame met mana.
Merlin smirked. "Come on, Ragnar… don't tell me this is all you've got."
Ragnar grinned wider, eyes blazing.
"Don't worry. I've got plenty more."
He uses 10th grade magic smoke screen
Obscuring Merlin's vision then Ragnar feints a high cut; Merlin guards high, Ragnar suddenly collapses to a low cut She blocks it
Merlin attempts to counter attack but Ragnar backsteps,feints upwards,then plants his foot and launches a short vault over Merlin's shoulder — midair slash that grazes her cheek
Merlin was an experienced magic knight even with her vision gone she can still fight purely of instinct.
"Okay Merlin this is where the fights truly beings"
Ragnar snaps his fingers and flames portal ignite in the air like burning mirrors.[9th grade portal magic] . He swings his sword and the fire arcs, vanishing into one portal and spitting out behind Merlin.
Merlin doesn't flinch. He twists his wrist, blade glowing with a thin green aura[10th grade magic gust], and a gust whips around him like a shield. The redirected fire scatters harmlessly into sparks.
"You're not the only one who bends the battlefield,"
Merlin smirks, stepping forward, wind swirling tight around his boots, anchoring him against the blast of heat.
Ragnar lunges, blade dripping flames. He swings downward — but instead of a solid hit, he drops the sword into a portal mid-swing. The blade erupts from a portal at Merlin's side, aiming to gut him from an impossible angle.
Merlin pivots, parries with surgical precision, and the clang rings like thunder. A sharp burst of wind explodes from the impact, knocking Ragnar back a half step.
The mage-swordswomen presses: three quick cuts, faster than Ragnar expects. Each stroke has wind acceleration[8th grade magic wind acceleration], making her blade blur like a storm. Ragnar barely keeps up, opening a flurry of small portals to redirect her parries.
Ragnar grins wild, eyes burning. He slams his palm to the ground — and suddenly ten portals shimmer around them like fiery constellations.
He hurls flames through one[10th grade magic fire ball], they whip and curve, coming out from unpredictable angles. A storm of fireballs ricochets in a deadly pattern, forcing Merlin into a tight guard.
She raises his sword, channels magic, and with one wide arc, he unleashes a cyclone wall[8th grade magic protective cyclone]. The gust bends Ragnar's flames, whipping them back into the portals, causing fiery feedback explosions.
Ragnar coughs from smoke, sweat on his brow. His trick is working against her. Desperate, Ragnar uses a short-portal dash: stepping into one portal and blasting out behind Merlin with a flaming thrust.
Merlin anticipates — her wind sense picks up Ragnar's displacement the instant it starts. She half-turns, meets the strike, and kicks Ragnar in the chest with a wind-boosted heel. Ragnar stumbles, coughing blood, skidding across stone.
Before he can recover, Merlin flashes forward, almost teleport-speed with wind bursts, chaining sword strikes in relentless succession: First slash knocks Ragnar's weapon up.
Second stab grazes his arm, sizzling flesh as it pushes through the flame aura.
Third — a wide crescent — sends a razor of wind that cuts Ragnar's cheek and shatters the ground behind him.
Ragnar roars, flame bursting off him like a furnace, and throws every last ounce of mana he could call apon into a giant portal above. From it rains a meteor storm of blazing swords[9th grade magic demon blades], all pointed at Merlin.
Merlin plants her blade in the ground, whispers an incantation. Wind swirls, condenses, compresses until it howls like a hurricane in miniature[7th grade magic wind hurricane].
she leaps, blade glowing emerald, and with a single devastating swing, unleashes a wind shockwave that slices the sky itself.
The meteor swords are torn apart, flames extinguished midair. The shockwave slams into Ragnar, shattering his last defenses. He's blown across the battlefield, portals collapsing like broken glass.
Smoke clears. Ragnar kneels, sword digging into stone, body trembling, cloak scorched. Merlin stands tall, sword steady, wind whipping her hair but not a scratch on her.
Merlin (calm, cold)
"You wield fire like a wild beast. But storms don't bow to fire — they smother it."
Ragnar spits blood, grins weakly:
"…Next time… the flame won't fade."
Then suddenly black veins appear on Ragnar and he starts screaming in pain to everyone's shock, blood starts running down his ears,nose and eyes