The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

Malik’s hands trembled.

The pain radiating from his face.

The humiliation of being publicly disgraced before a crowd.

As someone who had never been familiar with words like "patience" or "forbearance," Malik’s rage effortlessly exceeded its threshold.

I’ll kill her.

Any thoughts of holding back to avoid damaging that pretty face, or of defeating her gently to make her yield—those were all discarded.

He even forgot that this was a mock battle, that there were spectators watching from all sides.

Surrendering to childish irritation and pure impulse, Malik cast another spell.

—Fwoooosh!

Beside him, a sword made of fire materialized.

Unlike the spells Eris had deliberately rigged with conditions, this was one Malik had already copied in advance. It absorbed his mana with no issue and grew more intense.

Yes, this is it! I don’t know what kind of trick she pulled before, but with this...!!

Excited, Malik launched a massive greatsword of fire the size of a person.

Eris responded with what looked like an air bullet, but both in size and power, it was laughable compared to Malik’s attack.

Convinced this would pierce through and destroy Eris, Malik grinned.

But then, the greatsword’s trajectory twisted ever so slightly.

It missed. The blade of flame grazed past Eris without landing a hit.

A few students gasped at the narrow escape. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Malik, however, didn’t care in the slightest. He immediately fired another spell.

Larger than before. Stronger. In greater numbers.

The sheer destructive force of these spells—far beyond student level—shocked not only the students but also the professors.

Even for them, that level of mana expenditure wasn’t easy to handle, but Malik attacked and attacked, as if his mana was limitless.

Compared to Malik’s flashy and overwhelming barrage, Eris’s responses looked unimpressive at a glance.

Her small spells were unable to clash against the flaming swords and were repeatedly pushed aside. Her only “success” was to subtly twist their trajectories.

This is beyond a mock battle! I have to intervene!

Just as the referee prepared to step forward, someone grabbed his shoulder.

He turned in urgency and shouted, “What are you doing, Professor Mary!? Let go of me!”

“Look at Eris’s face.”

Her face?

This was hardly the time for that.

Still, almost instinctively, the referee turned to look at Eris’s expression—and his breath caught.

That wasn’t the face of someone desperately flailing in front of an unstoppable disaster.

It was calm, composed—cold, even. So calm it seemed detached, businesslike.

Only then did the referee realize what he’d missed beneath Malik’s dazzling barrage.

None of the attacks were hitting.

Her skin was flushed red from the heat. Parts of her clothes were disheveled. But that was all.

Despite being in the center of such ferocious and chaotic magic, Eris hadn’t sustained a single wound.

“...Hah.”

A quiet sigh of admiration escaped the referee’s lips.

The spells Malik was firing were shaped like swords, but they were, in essence, pure flame.

Unlike arrows or physical attacks, flames couldn’t be simply blocked or parried.

Yet Eris was controlling their paths perfectly, using nothing more than air refraction and slight ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) mana guidance.

If even one spell’s timing was off—

If the point of impact was just a little too far or too close—

The guidance would fail, and Eris would suffer a critical injury.

And yet, Eris showed no signs of panic or instability. As a mage, not just a professor, the referee couldn’t help but be moved.

“You and your cheap tricks!!”

Malik, too, seemed to realize what was happening. His face twisted in fury as he conjured new spells.

3rd-Rank: Magic That Summons Cutting Wind

3rd-Rank: Magic That Infuses Freezing Cold

4th-Rank: Magic That Calls Up Earth Spikes

Each spell was powerful enough that no one would believe they came from a mere student. But Eris didn’t flinch.

She had studied, understood, and analyzed them all.

That wind spell is sharp enough to tear skin and muscle—but not enough to sever bone.

2nd-Rank: Magic That Reinforces Clothing

For a brief moment, her clothes hardened to the toughness of metal, deflecting the slicing wind.

The freezing spell is strong enough to freeze your mouth shut if it enters through the airway—but the spreading speed is slow.

2nd-Rank: Magic That Makes You Agile Like a Rabbit

Eris darted around the arena, reestablishing her position. The frost, too slow to catch her, fizzled out before reaching its target.

The earth spikes’ strength varies drastically depending on the terrain. It’s different on rocky ground, but on this soft soil...

2nd-Rank: Magic That Fills a Bathtub

A surge of water formed just above Eris’s chest and dropped, soaking the ground beneath her.

The spikes that emerged moments later came rising up toward her—but they were soft and blunted like wet clay. No sharpness to be found.

No spell worked.

No matter what Malik tried, she countered it flawlessly.

The match was unfolding nothing like he’d imagined, and Malik began to lose control like a tantruming child.

“What the hell! Why! Why the hell isn’t anything working!!”

“There’s no reason it would.”

“...What?”

Eris spoke, her gaze cold as ice as she stared down Malik.

“Just knowing how to cast a spell isn’t enough. You need to assess your opponent’s abilities, their methods, the surrounding environment—and use the spell appropriately. Otherwise, it’s meaningless.”

If Malik hadn’t been the one standing here—if it had been the original casters of the spells he copied—this outcome wouldn’t have been the same.

Those who had opened their books over and over just to grasp a single spell. Who had practiced relentlessly just to wield it correctly. Who had stumbled and failed through countless trials. They would’ve tried to find a way to break through Eris’s counters.

A blade of wind should be launched not head-on, but as a surprise attack.

A freezing spell is best in enclosed spaces where there’s nowhere to run.

Earth spikes should follow up after using fire magic to prepare the terrain.

But Malik did none of that.

No—he couldn’t.

The demon’s authority could only replicate the results.

It couldn’t imitate the trials, the effort, the accumulated understanding of the original casters that led to those results.

“Your spells are like something stamped out of a mold. The mana is always pushed to the spell’s maximum threshold. The aim is always dead center on the opponent’s body. The casting speed is always the fastest possible. All your conditions are exactly the same, every single time.”

Which made them easy to read.

Which made them easy to counter.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Not a method available to someone lacking sufficient knowledge—but to Eris, it was fully within reach.

And in fact, it was the very image of the “ideal mage” that one particular great mage had pursued and preached for a lifetime.

“...Ah.”

From a corner of the spectator stands.

Hidden in the crowd and ready to jump in at any moment, Delphinaris’s eyes trembled violently.

She had thought Eris was a good student—but just that. Good.

She loved the girl like a granddaughter, but precisely because of that affection, she’d tried not to overestimate her and held her to harsher standards.

She’d decided, all on her own, that this child was not enough. That Eris could never reach the peak she longed to see.

The neglect and pride of an old master.

Unaware of the effort her disciple had been putting in under that shadow.

Boom! Fwoooosh! Crackle!

Even as Delphinaris stood trembling, speechless, the mock battle surged toward its climax.

At first, the professors and students had panicked, wondering if the match should be stopped—but now they were too dazed, too captivated to look away.

“D-don’t make me laugh! I—I won’t accept this—guh!”

Malik’s head snapped to the side with a heavy smack.

A rounded ball of water had slammed straight into his cheek.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to counterattack—but before his spell could even complete, another waterball cracked his head to the opposite side.

“I’ll kill y—!”

Whack!

“You think you’ll get away with—!”

Whack!

“W-wait just a sec—!”

Whack!

“L-let me brea—!”

Whack!

It didn’t matter if he threatened or begged—Eris didn’t pay him any mind.

What she focused on wasn’t Malik’s worthless words, but the staff in his hand. The spells he tried to cast.

Step, step.

With each exchange, Eris moved forward. Malik, stumbling backward, finally collapsed onto the ground in disgrace.

“U-ugh...”

Malik looked up at her.

Gone were the arrogance and confidence from before—his eyes were filled with the raw fear of violence and pitiful submission.

Click!

Eris lowered her staff to hover right in front of Malik’s nose.

The crowd held its breath.

Eris asked,

“Shall we continue?”

“I-I lost.”

“Lost... what?”

“I lost! I lost!!”

The moment Eris raised her voice slightly, Malik frantically bowed his head and corrected his tone.

The referee, who had been watching from the side waiting for his chance to intervene, hurriedly rushed forward and declared:

“Match over!! The winner! Representative of Aldridge Training School—Eris!!”

Waaaaaaaaah!!

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Not just Aldridge students—even students from Lowten, who were supposed to be rivals, forgot themselves and celebrated.

Malik had dazzled the arena with flashy but hollow magic. Eris had used minimal mana for maximum effect.

Malik had clearly overstepped the bounds of a mock battle, mixing in hostility and malice. Eris had remained calm and disciplined from start to finish.

The contrast couldn’t have been clearer.

It lit a fire in the hearts of the young spectators.

A few of the girls blushed, staring at Eris with dazed expressions.

Meanwhile, at the center of that roaring applause—Eris was far more exhausted than she appeared.

...I feel like I’m gonna die.

Her mana, stamina, and mental energy were all depleted.

She had walked a tightrope the entire match. One misstep and she would’ve been seriously hurt.

She was barely holding together the image of a graceful honor student. Honestly, she just wanted to collapse right there and sleep on the floor.

But still—

This isn’t bad.

The cheers around her, the professors asking if she was okay, offering praise and concern—the fact that she had just knocked down that arrogant fake genius’s pride...

All of it filled Eris’s battered body and soul with fresh energy.

She looked around, just in case.

Only to frown slightly when she didn’t see the person she’d been hoping for.

That man seriously didn’t show up.

“What would be the point of watching when the result is already obvious? I’m busy with work.”

He had declared, with absolute confidence, that there was zero chance Eris would lose.

While that unwavering faith did make her secretly pleased, she also couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that he really hadn’t come.

A girl’s heart was complicated.

Just then, Eris’s eyes locked with Delphinaris in the stands.

Both flinched at the same time—master and disciple.

But then, with a look of determination, Delphinaris began walking toward her.

There was a brief stir in the audience as people realized who she was—hidden until now by an illusion spell—but neither master nor disciple paid it any mind.

A flurry of thoughts raced through Eris’s head.

How should she appeal this victory to her master?

How should she argue that she wasn’t an unworthy disciple, that there was no need to find someone better?

What if her beloved master scolded her for being too harsh with Malik?

“Master, I—...huh?”

Eris never finished her sentence.

Delphinaris pulled her into a firm embrace.

“...I’m sorry. I’m truly... sorry...”

The instant she heard her master’s voice, trembling and damp like it was soaked in tears, all the thoughts swirling in Eris’s mind vanished like a blank slate.

Her throat tightened.

Her eyes grew wet.

Eris said nothing.

She simply held her master back.

That was enough.