“Quite impressive, don’t you think, Master Van Dijk?” Olim said, his voice filled with amusement as he watched the screen.
“That’s the bare minimum,” Van Dijk replied, though the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. He couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched Ludwig take control of the situation.
“Not only did he figure out the whole trial, but he’s also controlling the students well enough to follow his lead. Leadership and charisma like that are very rare in such young students,” Cymoria said, her tone filled with admiration. “I must congratulate you, Master Van Dijk. It seems your choice in terms of a disciple is more than perfect.”
“You’re too kind, Professor,” Van Dijk said, though his tone was anything but humble. “Regardless, this isn’t over yet. They will still have to deal with more problems than just figuring out the clones. Professor Olim’s tests have always been a fun watch.”
“I can only agree to that,” Vastion said, his eyes narrowing as he watched the screen. “Figuring out the fakes by battle is fine, but how will he deal with the last one?”
The entire arena was captivated by the freshmen’s trial, more so than the other tests. The tension, the strategy, and Ludwig’s unorthodox methods had drawn everyone’s attention.
Right now, it was the fifth fight. Three students had won, and two clones had also emerged victorious. Ludwig had made sure to eliminate any clone the moment they won, his actions swift and decisive.
But soon, they were facing the hardest ordeal.
The screen showed Ludwig looking up at the numbers. There was only one student left, but the numbers didn’t add up.
Olim smiled. “That’s where things should get interesting,” he said, his voice filled with anticipation.
“This is to be expected,” Ludwig said, his eyes fixed on the numbers.
“I think you meant to say unexpected,” Minerva corrected, her tone laced with concern.
The surviving students had all been placed on one side, and the remaining student was the nerdy-looking guyHe had two clones left, and the numbers above them were off.
“Why is it saying three clones?” Bron asked, his gaze shifting between the nerdy guy and the screen.
“Isn’t that obvious? He’s always been a clone. All three of him,” another student said, his voice filled with frustration.
“No! I’m not!” the nerdy guy protested, his voice trembling.
“What’s your name?” Ludwig asked, his tone calm but probing.
All three of them replied in unison, “Vini.”
Ludwig sighed. “Seems that a trick is being played on us.”
He glanced around the room, his instincts screaming that something was wrong. “This one is rather tough,” he muttered, his brow furrowing.
“What do you mean?” Bron asked, his tone impatient. “There are three clones left, and he’s the only one left. It’s obvious that all of them are clones of a student that lost the last round.”
Ludwig took a step back, his eyes scanning the room. “I don’t know. My instincts are telling me that something is wrong.” He paused, his gaze lingering on the shadows at the far end of the room. “Still, you’ll have to fight,” he said, pointing at one of the Vinis and then another.
“That’s unfair!” they protested. “I’m the real one. Even if I win, I’ll have to fight again!”
“That is your fate,” Ludwig said, his tone cold. “So you better find a way to win, Vini. Because if you refuse to fight, I can simply bind you and let one of the others take you out. If both don’t want to fight, I’ll make the third one kill you since it should be the real one.”
Vini cursed under his breath but reluctantly stood up and walked to the arena with one of his clones. The two of them were identical, their movements and expressions perfectly mirrored.
“Fine,” Vini said, pulling out a wand.
The two began fighting, their spells clashing in bursts of light and energy. They were cautious at first, conserving their strength, but the tension in the room was palpable.
Ludwig’s eyes were focused not only on the fight but also on the third Vini, who seemed increasingly agitated.
In a moment of distraction, one of the Vinis failed to cast his spell on time. A flaming fireball tore through him, and he collapsed to the ground, his body dissolving into sludge.
The red number on the screen dropped by one, leaving two clones remaining.
The surviving Vini panted heavily, his face flushed with exhaustion. “Are you happy now?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“Not yet,” Ludwig said, his tone calm but firm. “We have yet to prove that you’re real.”
“I’m exhausted,” Vini said, his shoulders slumping.
“I’m fine with it,” the other Vini said, standing up. “Let me fight him. It’s a good chance to take out the fake one.”
“You fucker!” the Vini in the center cursed, his voice filled with anger.
“No,” Ludwig said, pulling two vials from his ring. “Drink these,” he said, handing them to the exhausted Vini.
“What are these?” Vini asked, his voice wary.
“Health and mana potions. They’ll help you recover,” Ludwig explained.
“Why are you doing that?” the other Vini asked, his tone suspicious.
“A fair fight,” Ludwig said, his tone calm. “Once he drinks them and rests, you’ll go at it again.”
“This is annoying!” one of the students that cleared shouted, “Why do we even have to do this? we already know that the two of them are fakes, the numbers don’t lie! it’s two clones left and those two are definitely the fake ones!” he shouted.
“Stand down!” Bron said.
“Screw this!” he shouted as his hand lit up in flames and hurled a fireball at the Vini who was about to drink the potions.
Vini’s eyes widened as he noticed the incoming fireball, so he desperately ducked down, barely evading the flaming projectile that shot all the way across the room and into a wall.
“ARE YOU INSANE!” Vini shouted as he regained his composure.
Before the student who shot the fireball could even answer, his body was immediately encased in a white ball and was shot up the ceiling of the room. Disqualified.
‘The hell is going on here,’ Ludwig’s brows furrowed.