Ch.289284 – Ceremony

The sand pillar that NoName had used as a foothold crumbled away, and the turbulent mana finally calmed down.

The spectators turned their attention to the scoreboard.

The match time had stopped at 28 minutes and 49 seconds.

More than half of that time had been a match led by NoName alone.

Parents who had attended the competition every year couldn’t help but remember how dominant Altair Academy’s Four had been over the past several years.

But the position of apex predator always changes hands eventually.

A previously unknown kid named Oh Deok-jae suddenly appeared, showcasing his untouchable talent with triple casting, firmly imprinting himself in the audience’s memory.

‘It’s about time for late bloomers to start rising up.’

Principal Gu On-yu believed that even students who had long been at the top could no longer afford to be complacent.

He knew better than anyone that the hierarchy in elementary school differs from middle school, and middle school differs from high school—that’s simply the natural order of academies.

‘But how did she handle all these children…?’

A deep sense of unease welled up in his chest.

Whether they were children born with sublime talent or those who had cultivated their abilities through diligent effort—

NoName had trampled them all indiscriminately.

Those small fists that looked so soft left savage craters all over the arena,

And she demonstrated an intellect that no one could match, dismantling 10, 20 different types of magic with ease.

“She won…”

“Did she really win?”

“How did she handle everyone by herself… huh?”

NoName’s friends were equally dumbfounded.

“NoName was right,” Yoon Si-hoo muttered quietly.

He had always known she was strong.

But the question of “how strong” still remained a mystery.

She would often claim that the entire class wasn’t even worth her effort, but none of her friends took those words seriously.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!”

Lee Ha-ru suddenly screamed.

“What am I going to do?! When we get back to the academy, NoName is going to kill me!”

Ha-ru’s eyes trembled uncontrollably. She sensed the karma that awaited her.

“I… I know nothing about this…!”

“Honestly, aren’t we a bit old for playing house? Hmm hmm.”

“It’s okay, Ha-ru.”

Yu-na patted her shoulder to comfort her.

Just as Ha-ru was about to shed a tear, touched that her former rival was now her most reliable friend, Yu-na’s lips curved into a smile.

“If you pass out in one hit, it won’t hurt much.”

“Hey! I should have known better than to trust you!”

As the shock subsided, what remained was the joy of victory.

The loudest cheers erupted from the middle school section, which had suffered the most humiliating defeat.

“WOOOOOOOOO!”

“NoName! NoName! NoName! NoName! NoName!”

“She’s actually insane! No… woooow… WOOOOW!”

“Did you see NoName casting magic? So fast!”

“That final part looked like a video game!”

“Is her arm really okay? How could she do that to her own arm…”

“I’ve never seen Jo Su-yeon scream like that before.”

So many battles had happened in such a short time that people could barely remember how NoName had fought.

Regardless, the simple fact that NoName had won was enough reason for Cephiron Academy students to celebrate.

And as soon as the match ended, someone rushed down to the arena faster than anyone else.

A man traversed the dark tunnel. The sound of his dress shoes echoed with increasingly shorter intervals.

“Excuse me, but this area is off-limits to outsiders! Could you please return to the spectator seats?”

A competition volunteer tried to stop him belatedly, but gasped when she recognized his face.

Standing about 185cm tall, his neatly combed hair with pomade was a mix of white and black, giving it a grayish appearance.

Under the lights, the man introduced himself with a serious expression that conveyed both gentleness and intimidation.

“I’m NoName’s father. Couldn’t you make an exception?”

Professor Cheon Kyu-jin’s gaze remained fixed on the arena beyond the shutters.

The flustered staff member managed to get permission from the operations headquarters via radio.

As the old metal door rose with a noisy clatter, the employee tentatively struck up a conversation.

“I envy you. Your daughter has become the star of this year’s competition.”

The Academy Competition is an event watched by numerous Korean clans and followed worldwide.

But Professor Cheon didn’t seem pleased by this fact, furrowing his brow and maintaining his silence.

“You must be upset that your daughter got hurt.”

As his shift change approached, the man folded his orange vest and placed it on the floor.

Professor Cheon’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“I will not let this matter slide. The organizing committee that approved neural interference magic without proper review, and the students who cast it—all of them.”

“If they’ve done wrong, that’s only appropriate. I hope you have a good time.”

Creeeeak—

NoName came into view, basking in the autumn sunlight.

The child wore a happier, more childlike smile than ever before.

* * *

“You’re surprisingly weak in close combat, by the way.”

Oh Deok-jae, sprawled out on the floor, said while trying to suppress a laugh. Why is he smiling so annoyingly? I shouldn’t have talked to him.

“Well, the only exercise I’ve done is weightlifting. These are just for show. Haah… I really didn’t expect it would come down to aura combat. Congratulations on your victory.”

“It was an excellent match.”

“My back hurts so much… Next year, I’m definitely not participating in this competition. I couldn’t even eat delivery food while preparing for this—there was absolutely no joy in my life.”

“That’s your choice. I’ll be competing next year, so come if you change your mind. Though I wonder if they’ll let me compete in the high school division to meet you…”

“Hahaha! You’re quite an unusual kid, aren’t you?”

He stood up without help from the medical staff and returned to Altair Academy’s side.

He received even louder applause than when he first entered the arena, from both Cephiron and Altair students.

“NoName.”

A familiar voice I hear every day.

I turned my head, smiled brightly, and answered.

“Yes, Professor Cheon.”

His expression was quite complex.

I wondered if he would scold me immediately or congratulate me on my victory.

But people’s hearts are never easy to read.

“Let’s go home and make something delicious later.”

“What? Suddenly talking about food here? You’re such a Korean.”

“I thought you might be hungry.”

“You’re right, I am hungry. So I’ll ask for something expensive.”

Professor Cheon nodded with a gentle smile.

There would be plenty of time for explanations later.

Because I’m so small, even a small dose of sleeping drug had a strong effect, necessitating emergency treatment.

Actually, the most touching part of what Professor Cheon said was that I had a home to return to.

There’s someone waiting for me in the world where I’ll continue to live.

So I should live with even more determination.

“NoName, could you explain that magic and aura to me?”

Did I show too much determination?

I ended up arousing Professor Cheon’s suspicions first.

Professor Cheon only knew that I had developed a unique magic called “Demon King’s Horn,” but knew nothing about its actual nature.

In situations like this, I must never panic and answer as naturally as possible.

“The Demon King’s Horn was researched with people from our company. Could you share some mana with me for a moment?”

Professor Cheon extended his hand, and I placed mine on top of his.

[Cast: Circuit Reconfiguration]

Two aura hearts form a single cycle.

Professor Cheon’s mana capacity is really impressive. His contracted aura heart seems about five times the size of mine.

[Simple Cast: Demon King’s Horn]

“Actually, even casting with hand gestures ultimately involves sending electrical signals from the brain, right? So we thought: what if we could find underutilized areas in our brains and connect them to new mana sensory organs? Then anyone could perform double casting.”

I put both hands in my skirt pockets and closed my eyes.

[Cast: Light]

I cast the spell while keeping the color value as a variable.

Suddenly, a horn protruded from my head, glowing brightly in various colors—red, yellow, green, blue, purple… basically every color of the rainbow.

“WOOOOAAAAAAHHH!”

“…!”

Thunderous cheers erupted, making the ground shake.

I had forgotten that we were in the middle of the arena.

Since this wasn’t cast with my own mana, I couldn’t reverse it now.

I quickly covered the horn with both hands to hide it.

“Awwwww…”

A disappointed sound filled the air.

“What… what is it?”

I lowered my hands.

“WOOOOOAAAAHHHH!”

I raised my hands again.

“Awwww…”

Their obvious disappointment made the situation awkward.

“I think… people believe you’re doing some kind of victory ceremony. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“Who would do a ceremony like this…!”

Drone cameras buzzed around me like flies.

“From now on, NoName, the path you take will become the path others follow. So no matter what anyone says, I want you to always confidently express your opinions.”

Professor Cheon said, patting my shoulder.

Well, if that’s what he wants so badly.

After checking the camera lenses from the corner of my eye, I finally sighed deeply and made a V-sign with my fingers.

Since it’s come to this, I might as well milk it for all it’s worth.

* * *

With Lee Jae-hwan’s “Red Woody Barrier” magic being declared an unauthorized spell, the organizers decided to hold Altair Academy collectively responsible and declared forfeit losses for all Altair’s middle school divisions, from first to third year.

“NoName, you’re insanely efficient! You scored three wins at once!”

Editor So Ma-ru proudly patted my head.

“I have an interview later, you’re messing up my hair.”

“Oh, sorry…”

There were no surprises in the high school division.

With two grade levels losing in succession, the Academy Competition ended with a 6-4 score, resulting in victory for Cephiron Academy.

It was a half-victory for Cephiron and a half-defeat for Altair.

Cephiron was still judged as not having surpassed Altair in terms of skill, while Altair’s impressive seven-year winning streak was broken because of a single middle school student.

During the high school matches, Lee Jae-hwan (apparently the son of a Green Party floor leader) and I were summoned to the organizing committee.

“So what did they say? Did he admit his mistake?”

“No, the situation is a bit complicated. That senior insisted that he had completely removed the sleep effect when submitting to the organizing committee. He claimed that if the committee had recorded it correctly, the magic would have been cast as registered in the arena barrier, and he had simply written the circuit formula as usual.”

“Already making excuses! He’s trying to deny his responsibility!”

“But the original data he submitted actually did have that formula removed.”

“Really? Then what’s going on?”

“Maybe someone made a mistake while transferring the rune data, or… anyway, they’re concluding it was just an error by the person in charge. Even if there was a mistake, he still cast something that violated regulations, so he’s not completely innocent.”

“That feels unsatisfying…”

“Oh, it’s my turn. Wait here. And make sure to tune into my personal broadcast. Also, there’s a takoyaki stand over there—buy me one, and a green grape ade from the booth next to it.”

“Hey! How much are you going to boss me around!”

I climbed onto the platform and confidently grabbed the microphone.

Interviews were happening elsewhere too, but journalists began swarming toward me.

It felt a bit guilty having this large table all to myself while people were cramming together below.

But today’s interview required little thought.

I could just credit everything to the “Demon King’s Horn.”

Just like this:

“As an 8-year-old participant, you defeated five third-year middle school students in succession! NoName, could you share your thoughts?”

“I think I was able to handle it comfortably thanks to the Demon King’s Horn.”

“Ohhh…”

The journalists were interested at first.

“Lee Min-young manifested his aura externally—how did you decide to respond to that in the moment?”

“Also by using the Demon King’s Horn well.”

“Did you know you set a new record at this year’s Academy Competition by casting a 2-circle magic in just 1.32 seconds? About your ultra-fast casting technique—”

“With the Demon King’s Horn, that’s also—”

“You used an unusually high number of counterspell formulas during the match—”

“Demon King’s Horn—”

“When facing—”

“Demon King’s Horn—”

How convenient that I could attribute most answers to the Demon King’s Horn.

Of course, no one would actually believe this at face value, but this is why marketing is so powerful.

Repeated claims easily imprint on people’s minds.

By this point, wouldn’t people try it at least once out of curiosity?

Our primary goal was to target the “Halloween special” on October 31st.

“Just 149,000 won for 24 hours of use! Instructions will be provided even for those without formal magic training, so with a little practice, anyone can use it without worry!”

I couldn’t bring myself to say the embarrassing line Baek Ho-chan insisted on: “You too can be like NoName.”

I need to maintain at least some dignity. I don’t want to become a monster consumed by capitalism.