The Good Teacher

Chapter 247 Weakest Link

Guy nearly chewed through his fingers with anxiety as he waited for the sun to hit its peak and make its way to the other side of the horizon. Sect registration would end around noon, by which time the stragglers and weaklings would be filtered out, and the newly officiated sects would all swarm towards the Recruitment Event's location and pen down their names at their preferred stalls.

At that time, the unofficial battle royale would commence in which the claims for each stall would be challenged and the winner would gain ownership. Once the last registered sect made it to the location, the first fight sprung off and it was for the very first stall by the entrance.

One thing Guy learned about these battle royale fights for stall rights was that a Sect Leader or Elder could not take part it in - only a sect member could represent their sect. After all, this would act as an opportunity to show off a sect's strength to the public. Speaking of the public, a crowd consisting of random passers-by and parties interested in joining a sect was forming in anticipation of the fights. The distribution of wealth and class amongst these crowd members presented a decent spread, there were the poor, the rich, the influential and the irrelevant. Guy could determine all of this by observing the natural diffusion and concentration of the crowd.

Twenty youths strode up the steps to the combat arena.

"They barely have enough space to move about!" Guy exclaimed.

"A lot of spells will be flying about. Many will get caught off-guard and suffer injuries," Jean added with a tinge of worry. After having lunch, Jean decided to follow Guy and Markus and observe the proceedings. As part of the True World Sect, she didn't want to be left out. She couldn't fight, so her Senior Brother would have to carry the True World Sect's banner. Therefore, it was only right for her to support him in every way possible.

Once the youths assumed their positions at the ready, the fight began with the slap of a gong. Everyone burst into action. Spells were hurled, weapons collided, flesh struck flesh, and nothing made sense for an observer unless their mana senses were running with pinpoint accuracy. Within ten seconds, the fight was over, and a single girl with a broken right arm and bruised face remained standing on unstable footing.

"Stall Number 1 goes to the Crimson Heart Sect," a detached voice declared. The unconscious and ragged bodies still remaining on the platform were dragged away by their respective sects and the platform was cleared for the next group to enter. It was mechanically efficient, and a bit difficult to watch.

The second fight was much faster - it barely lasted eight seconds. Once again, the bodies were removed, the field was cleared and the fights went on. The first ten or so had a similar turnout, with a rather overcrowded combat arena and short bouts that rarely lasted past the fifteen-second mark. After that, things started to slow down and the fights started to extend for at most a minute and a half.

While Guy struggled to keep his eyes peeled through the whole ordeal (he did not enjoy watching kids beating each other up so brutally even if their advanced cultivation gifted them with superior endurance), and Jean fretted over the plethora of injuries sustained by the combatants as they exited the arena, Markus retrieved his Grimoire and furiously jotted down his impressions on the bouts as they happened. As usual, he placed himself in the position of the combatants and theorised how he would approach the fights with his style.

Noticing his Disciple's fervour, Guy placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Don't stress yourself too much over the coming match. Even if we don't get this one, there is always the next one."

Although Guy trusted his Disciple, he did not want the kid to exhaust and expend himself and end up with a serious injury. "If things grow beyond your control, and your chance of victory becomes less than certain, just give up and prepare yourself for the next one. Since we do not have many members in our Sect just yet, we need to play it smart."

Markus nodded pensively without moving his gaze away from the arena. It was a valuable opportunity for him to improve his ability to cope with new combat scenarios. However, what he saw did little to assuage his troubles, rather it increased in complexity with each fight.

"The fights are less about skill, and more about playing the field to one's advantage," his Master vocalised Markus' thoughts. "If you remember in the last fight, all seven first ganged up on the obviously stronger combatant. Once the boy was out of the picture, it was basically a chaotic free-for-all with spells flying willy-nilly until only one happened to remain standing... barely. However, in the fight before that, everyone took out the girl who was quaking in her boots in fear first."

Markus hummed in response and said, "To an extent, it is also about understanding human psychology. We don't want to appear too strong to draw the attention of everyone, but also not appear too weak to avoid getting dog-piled on for convenience's sake. We need to find the location of the line that separates those two scenarios."

"Appear confident but not arrogant," Guy said. "Do you know the difference between the two?"

The boy shook his head. Although he appeared absent-minded with his attention trained on the upcoming bout, his ears were completely dedicated to his Master's teachings.

"When I know that regardless of what the world throws my way, I can handle it, I am confident. But if I believe that there is nothing in the world that can derail me from my goals, I am arrogant," Guy stated.

"They sound the same to me, Sect Leader," Jean chimed in.

"It's about being certain of oneself versus being certain of one's environment. You can never be certain of what can happen to you unless you're Mage Nara or Marie, but that is beside the point. To assume the certainty of the environment is to be arrogant. However, it is possible to be certain and assured about yourself. To trust in your skills and ability to handle troubles as they become known is confidence," Guy expounded.

Guy nudged his head towards the still unconscious boy from the previous fight and reiterated, "He assumed that there wouldn't be anyone on that stage who could be his match - he was arrogant. That, in turn, agitated his opponents and made them overestimate his skills. Therefore, they opted for the 'better to be safe than sorry' approach and took him out first."

"How would it be different if Senior Brother exuded an aura of confidence, instead?" Jean inquired.

"If you are confident, you will naturally not underestimate your opponents," Guy answered. "That in turn reflects in your posture and expressions. It may not seem obvious, but the simple act of taking a poised stance makes your opponents feel that you respect them. And as I've taught you guys, what you give is what you will receive, even if it is unintentional."

Guy mused over his words in silence. A fight was equally a contest of the mind as it was a contest of martial might. Half the fight is won or lost simply based on a combatant's mentality as they entered the match - similar to most other sports. For mages, it is even more important to have the right frame of mind since the power of one's magic and control over the mana in their domain is directly proportional to the integrity of their will.

Once it was time for the fight before Markus', the boy immediately closed his eyes and started to circulate his mana. Jean noticed this and proceeded to assist him by applying the basic artificial stimulation exercises she'd been learning from Josie. In recent months, as she'd slowly come into her skills in medicine and healing, Jean started to take additional lessons from Josie to round off her skill list. Amongst the techniques she'd been learning from Josie, artificial stimulation was at the top.

Jean's focus right now was to help guide her Senior Brother's mana to work his muscles. She hoped to initiate glycolysis by mimicking the effects of high-intensity exercises so that her Senior Brother's body actively starts to produce energy. One disadvantage of this is that if the muscles do not have enough oxygen in them, the glycolysis process can cause a build-up of lactic acid that can cause a burning sensation in the muscles. This could be easily averted since her Senior Brother knew how to enrich his muscles with oxygen using the mana circulating in his body.

"I got this from here," Markus said while flexing his joints, releasing a pleasing harmony of crackles as the nitrogen bubbles trapped in them popped.

"Next up, Stall 23. Combatants, enter the arena!" The same detached voice droned.

Seven combatants swaggered forward, including Markus, and ascended the open arena from its sides. The stage had suffered some wear and tear from the previous match, but it was immediately repaired with a wave of the hand from the mage that called the match.

Markus' six opponents consisted of four girls and two boys. Of the boys, one was shivering like a leaf caught in a precarious autumn wind, while the other looked extremely shifty. Three of the four girls all assumed a combat-ready stance, eyeing every other person on stage. The last girl, quite literally had her nose pointing upwards and oozed a palpable aura of arrogance. Her arms were crossed, and she hadn't even grasped her weapon which was a whip wrapped around her waist.

Right at that moment, Markus knew who the first person to be ejected would be. Luckily she was standing on the opposite side of the stage, far away from him.