Book 4 Chapter 19

Episode 93

“A team can score a total of three times. If you try to touch the ball more than four times, it's a foul and you lose points.”

As Owen explained, Melanie of Lowhynum was seen skillfully receiving Illin’s serve on the court.

Then Hubert, who was waiting directly in front of the net, tossed the unstable ball with a sharp trajectory to the giant next to him.

“He sets the ball up in a strange way.”

“Hubert is a setter, you see.”

“A setter?”

“It’s the position that sets the stage for a spiker to spike, like that. They’re called setters because they set up the play!”

And the giant, who had soared high into the sky, fiercely slammed the ball down… The next moment, with a *pew-oong* sound of air ripping, the ball plummeted.

Infinitely fast and nimble.

But Logan, with incredible speed, threw his body and saved that ball! Watching it through Bell Sidius, the rules of the game became even clearer.

“Professor, when receiving, you don’t present a mathematical formula, do you?”

“Damn it, Rain! I understand you want to feed shit to the poor monkey who’ll trust a devil like you as a teammate, but you have to win the game, don’t you?!”

“!!!”

“What’s good about giving the ball to your team like shit? If it’s to show off your heinous personality, then I guess it’s good!”

Owen’s linguistic abilities were truly fascinating. He genuinely wanted to know where he learned them. Was it part of the Chaihark school’s successor training?

“So, if you hastily receive the ball and it goes over the net, it becomes a chance ball!”

“I think I get it. It’s a ball that doesn’t require solving a mathematical formula. Because the right to attack comes for free?”

“Yes, that’s right~♣”

Magic Volleyball’s position names were quite simple and clear, so it didn’t take even a minute to learn the other important positions.

ㆍWing-Spiker.

A position that spikes from both sides of the net.

ㆍMiddle-Blocker.

A position that blocks from the center of the net.

ㆍHard-Receiver.

A position that does not participate in offense and focuses solely on receiving from the back row. Most often, they substitute in when a middle blocker is in the back row.

I see.

The minimum number of players is six, and you need seven to utilize a Hard-Receiver.

“Seeing that arrogant smile, do you think you can beat Griffinvalor just by learning one rule?”

“Can’t I?”

“There’s a saying in Magic Volleyball.”

Owen held up two fingers.

Three months to be able to play the basics of Magic Volleyball, three years for the entire team to become one body.

“And Griffinvalor’s third-year idiots are perfectly trained according to that saying. Because Professor Ellin trained them that way!”

Owen’s words were true.

In the long tug-of-war between nobles and university factions, talent had always been produced unevenly.

Just as first-years are dominated by disciples of the factions, third-years are controlled by the descendants of nobles.

“And this imbalance in talent applies directly to Magic Volleyball, so currently, no team in <Delaiten> can stop Griffinvalor.”

At the enumeration of a reality so tragic it couldn’t be refuted, the disciples of Lionheart bit their lips, each filled with indignation.

“But how do you, a monkey who’s just learned the basic theory, intend to beat them? You don’t even have a single teammate yet?”

“…!”

“Speak freely, Lord Shit-chunk.”

Hubert snorted as he watched Rain seriously rub his chin in thought.

There’s no way such a thing exists.

Their opponent is Griffinvalor, after all.

But a moment later, Rain raised his head and smiled broadly, with no hesitation or despair visible on his face.

“It would be difficult to give you an answer right now.”

“That’s absurd! Just confess that you’re screwed! Even that dog walking by knows it!”

“I do seem to be screwed, but that doesn’t mean there’s no answer at all, does it? Just like with any math problem.”

“What kind of dog-shit talk is that?”

“Professor, you know, don’t you? That the lesson math teaches us about life is that an answer can always be found for any problem.”

For a moment, Owen’s eyes widened, and then his mouth twisted into a huge laugh.

“Ha, ha, umhahahahahahahaha!”

At his booming laughter that echoed through the gymnasium, the disciples of the factions could only exchange blank glances with each other.

‘The Professor…’

‘Is he truly laughing…?’

‘He only ever laughs when he's teasing people…’

How long did he laugh like that?

After a long while, Owen wiped the smile from his face and returned to a ferocious expression, poking Rain’s forehead with his index finger.

“You’re the first person in my 32 years of life to amuse me in such a short time, Rain Ludwig. For that, I pay my respects.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“But don’t like it. For the crime of making me laugh, from today I will earnestly pray to the seven gods for your defeat, I will not teach you Magic Volleyball, and I will genuinely mock you every time you do something foolish!”

Of course, his true intentions lay elsewhere.

Because if Lionheart were to go all out and help Rain Ludwig, Rain Ludwig’s future standing would become unstable.

‘Rain Ludwig, this fellow may be making friends widely, regardless of noble or commoner, but at his root, he is ultimately a noble…’

To firmly establish his future support base, he shouldn’t get caught up in strange rumors already.

Therefore, as Owen, a leader of the Eight Great Factions, it was better to draw a clear line right now. For the future of this genius.

And even if he did help, aside from Logan and Nora, the Lionheart cadets who harbored resentment towards nobles would not genuinely assist.

“It’s alright, Professor. You’ve already taught me enough.”

Owen then let out a short, scoffing laugh and extended his large hand, offering a handshake.

“I truly hope for the day when a guy slightly better than these idiots meets a dog-like demise.”

Rain, gripping his hand and smiling back, replied confidently.

“I will do my best not to live up to your expectations, Professor.”

* * *

“What did you just say?”

Ellin Ludwig, who was overseeing the noble cadets' training, frowned and glanced back.

The third-year students, including Maya Snark, who had been away for the executive committee meeting, had returned sooner than expected.

Additionally, Sandra Keppel, a student council executive and member of a magical family, was also there.

“I said we should schedule a match, Professor. A club disbandment match.”

“What kind of club disbandment match?”

“Young Master Rain withdrew from the student council, saying he would disband our Griffinvalor.”

For Ellin, who was unaware of the circumstances, her mind went blank for a moment.

A club disbandment match?

Initiated by Rain Ludwig?

Student council withdrawal?

With three shocking facts listed in a row, an ordinary person’s brain would have completely shut down for several minutes.

“Hey, what is it? What trouble has my pathetic, good-for-nothing nephew caused now? Withdrawing from the student council? And disbanding Griffinvalor, a royal club?”

No third-year student could confidently answer that. For Rain had responded squarely to their cowardly scheme.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?”

So, a small-framed male student with a cocky demeanor, Lowinbelt, clasped his hands behind his head and played innocent.

“I think you should ask the Young Master directly, Professor. Anyway, what should we do?”

“What do you mean, ‘what should we do’?”

“If we don’t want to embarrass the Young Master, we’ll have to control our strength, but I’m not sure to what extent would be appropriate.”

Muffled laughter rippled among the second and third-years.

“If we go too easy, Griffinvalor’s prestige will—”

“—Are these brats messing with me right now?”

Then, Ellin’s eyes, glaring at Lowinbelt, shone with killing intent.

“Who’s going easy on whom? That’s ridiculous.”

Perhaps because her eyes were burning red due to Bell Sidius’s potential, an unknown oppressive aura pressed down on the second and third-years, making their hair stand on end.

“He’s my nephew. Unlike you lot, he’s one of the few geniuses recognized by this genius professor, Ellin Ludwig.”

Was it just Ellin Ludwig?

Wasn't he a genius among geniuses, acknowledged even by Scalg Ludwig, the pinnacle of the old generation, and Madelia, the pinnacle of the current generation?

“Easy on him, my foot. If you don’t want to be disgraced, you all better shape up. Expect your training time to double.”

“…!”

“What are you doing! Get changed quickly!”

* * *

Leaving the gymnasium, even twilight had already faded, and only the bright moonlight intertwined with the dimness covered the campus.

“Do you now realize that what the Young Master started is no joke?”

Logan, who had come out to see them off, said with a worried tone.

“I may not like noble seniors like Maya or Lowinbelt, but their skill is certainly undeniable.”

“I figured as much.”

“I don’t doubt the Young Master’s skill, but… volleyball is a game for six people; you can’t win by yourself just because you’re good.”

To Logan’s serious voice, Rain whistled and turned around.

“You say cool things sometimes too, you know?”

“Who do you think I am? I am Logan, a late disciple of Chaihark, that’s who!”

Logan proudly declared, thumping his broad chest with a fist. Nora, watching from the side, smiled.

“What Logan means is that all five other teammates should be chosen from people who are skilled from the start, I think.”

That’s definitely true.

Let’s narrow down the candidates.

Individuals with magical abilities and volleyball experience who can stand against the Ten Great Clans… Huh, there’s only one such group, isn’t there?

‘The disciples of the Eight Great Factions…!’

But Owen said he couldn’t help, didn't he?

As the problem became slightly more difficult, he swallowed dryly, and Logan rubbed his chin in a troubled manner.

“Still, couldn’t we find just four people well enough starting now? It’ll take at least a week to ten days for the game to be scheduled.”

“Four people?”

Did he say five wrong?

When asked, Logan tilted his head as if he was even more puzzled.

“Including you and me, that makes two, so don’t we just need to find four more? Are you perhaps also looking for a Hard-Receiver or a Pinch-Server?”

“No, not that… I mean, what do you call it, you’ll help? You, me?”

“Why are you so upset and surprised? We are comrades exploring the art of muscle together; it’s only natural to help each other when needed.”

The moment Logan grinned innocently, something warm and swelling welled up in his chest, making him momentarily speechless.

— Lean on me all you want, Rin. We’re comrades, after all.

He remembered hearing similar words from Rista 300 years ago. In the days when he tried to solve everything alone…

“You should be precise, Logan. It’s three, not four.”

Logan wasn’t the only unexpected reinforcement.

At Nora’s smiling remark, Logan showed caution, and Rain blinked, unable to hide his bewilderment.

As if answering their gaze, Nora explained her reasoning with a sly smile.

“Because only fun things happen when I follow the Young Master. That’s all.”