Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats

The sun rose brilliantly over Crono Academy’s grand arena, its golden rays illuminating the gleaming marble and enchanted stonework. Spectators flooded through the arched entryways, their excited chatter creating a symphony of anticipation that echoed throughout the massive colosseum. Unlike the previous day’s preliminary rounds, today’s event had drawn an even larger crowd, with nobles and commoners alike jostling for prime viewing positions.

Professor Richard Lancaster stood at the center of the arena, his emerald robes freshly pressed and his silver-streaked beard impeccably groomed. He raised his magical staff, its crystal tip glowing with azure energy as he cast the voice amplification spell.

"Welcome, honored guests and esteemed students, to the second day of our freshman ranking tournament!" Lancaster’s voice boomed across the hushed arena. "Yesterday, we witnessed extraordinary displays of magical prowess and combat excellence that narrowed our field to just three remarkable teams."

He gestured toward the VIP section where Ambrose’s team sat in quiet observation. "Team Rothschild has secured their place in the championship match through their unprecedented performance, setting tournament records with victories that have already become academy legend."

Lancaster turned toward the entrance tunnels with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "Today, we determine who shall face them in the final confrontation! Will it be Lysander Blackvale, scion of one of Avaloria’s Great Houses, whose Arcane Dominion has systematically dismantled all opposition? Or Leon Steelheart, the commoner whose extraordinary swordsmanship proves that dedication and discipline can overcome even innate magical advantage?"

The crowd roared as both teams emerged from opposite tunnels, walking with measured steps toward the central platform. Lysander led his teammates with aristocratic confidence, his bearing projecting the certainty of inherited privilege. Across the arena, Leon advanced with quiet determination, his team moving with the synchronized precision that had become their hallmark.

"Two contrasting approaches to magic and combat," Lancaster continued as the teams took their positions. "Two philosophies that represent the very diversity that makes our academy great! May the most deserving team advance to challenge our tournament favorite!"

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The protective barriers shimmered into existence around the platform as Lancaster raised his staff high overhead.

"But before we begin, a quick word from our sponsors! Today’s tournament is brought to you by Raid—"

…

The semi-finals arena pulsed with anticipation as Lysander Blackvale and Leon Steelheart took their positions on opposite sides of the platform. The crowd’s murmurs created an undercurrent of speculation, most of it dismissive of the commoner swordsman’s chances.

"Steelheart’s gotten lucky so far," a noble student remarked loudly from the front row, his voice carrying across the nearby sections. "But luck always runs out. Especially against House Blackvale."

"Indeed," his companion agreed with a dismissive wave. "A talentless commoner against Legendary Arcane Dominion? The match is a formality at this point."

Similar sentiments rippled through the audience, particularly among the noble sections. Though Leon had impressed with his previous victories, most viewed them as flukes rather than legitimate accomplishments. Against Lysander Blackvale—from one of the kingdom’s Great Houses—such fortunate coincidences simply wouldn’t suffice.

Professor Lancaster raised his staff high, the crystal tip glowing brightly. "Begin!" he declared, his voice resonating throughout the arena.

The battle erupted immediately. Lysander’s team launched a coordinated barrage of arcane energy, geometric patterns cutting through the air with mathematical precision. Leon’s team responded with remarkable discipline, their movements synchronized as they deflected and evaded the magical assault.

The opening minutes revealed a surprisingly even match. For each arcane construct Lysander created, Leon found a way to neutralize it with perfect sword techniques. His teammates executed their supporting roles flawlessly, maintaining formation despite the increasing magical pressure.

"Unexpected," Lysander murmured, his analytical mind reassessing his opponent. With subtle hand gestures, he signaled a strategic shift to his team. "Edwin, Thomas—defensive perimeter. Sarah, Maria—target analysis."

The Blackvale formation adapted seamlessly, their arcane patterns reconfiguring into more focused streams. Rather than targeting Leon directly, Lysander directed precision attacks toward Leon’s supporting teammates.

"Isolate the sword," Lysander instructed, his voice barely audible beneath the clash of energies. "Without his supports, he cannot maintain offensive pressure."

The strategy proved devastatingly effective. A concentrated arcane burst penetrated Ryan’s defenses, the geometric patterns wrapping around him with constricting force. Despite his impressive speed, he couldn’t evade the precisely calculated attack, collapsing unconscious as the magical energy overwhelmed his system.

Laura fell next, a triangular convergence of arcane bolts bypassing her shield through mathematical precision. The perfect angles exploited microscopic weaknesses in her defensive technique, leaving her unconscious beside Ryan.

The crowd roared with vindicated approval, noble spectators exchanging knowing glances. "As expected," many murmured. "The commoner’s luck has finally expired."

Leon retreated strategically, positioning himself protectively before his remaining teammates. His expression remained composed despite their deteriorating situation, his sword moving in precise patterns that continued deflecting incoming attacks with remarkable efficiency.

"Not good," he admitted to Kai and Maya, his voice steady despite their precarious position. "But we’re not finished yet."

His gaze assessed Lysander’s formation, noting how the noble maintained perfect distance—too far for conventional sword techniques to reach. The arcane specialist stood protected behind Edwin and Thomas, while Sarah and Maria provided ranged support from the formation’s perimeter.

Leon exhaled slowly, decision crystallizing in his mind. "We charge," he stated simply. "Direct approach, maximum pressure."

Without hesitation, he launched forward, sword gleaming as it sliced through an incoming arcane construct. The precision of his technique severed the magical pattern’s integrity, causing it to dissolve harmlessly. Kai and Maya flanked him perfectly, deflecting supporting attacks with practiced efficiency.

Their synchronized advance created momentary confusion in Lysander’s formation. The noble’s eyes widened slightly as Leon neutralized attacks that should have been impossible to counter.

Edwin and Thomas moved to intercept, attempting to reestablish defensive position, but Leon’s sword techniques proved overwhelming. With two precision strikes, he incapacitated both defenders, their unconscious forms collapsing to the platform floor. Simultaneously, Kai and Maya engaged Sarah and Maria, neutralizing their ranged support with coordinated pressure.

Suddenly, only Lysander remained standing, the perfect formation reduced to a single point. Leon charged toward him with unwavering focus, his sword gleaming in the arena light.

Lysander’s lips curved into an unexpected smile. "Now," he commanded quietly.

From behind Leon, a massive sphere of concentrated arcane energy materialized—a trap that had been subtly prepared throughout the battle. The geometric structure contained enough power to end the match instantly, its trajectory perfectly aligned with Leon’s position.

Leon sensed the danger too late, his momentum preventing any possibility of evasion. In that critical moment, Maya threw herself into the construct’s path without hesitation, her body intercepting the full force of the arcane trap. She collapsed instantly, the sacrifice ensuring Leon’s continued advance.

The noble’s confident expression faltered as he witnessed this unexpected development. His calculations hadn’t accounted for such selfless loyalty, such willingness to sacrifice for a leader.

"Impossible," Lysander whispered, frantically attempting to construct another defense.

But Leon was already airborne, his perfectly executed leap carrying him above Lysander’s position. The swordsman descended with unstoppable momentum, his blade positioning for the decisive strike.

Lysander sighed, recognizing defeat with aristocratic grace. He raised his hands in surrender just as Leon’s sword halted precisely at his throat.

"Victory to Team Steelheart!" Lancaster’s voice boomed across the suddenly silent arena. "Leon Steelheart will advance to the championship match against Team Rothschild after a brief intermission!"

Stunned silence gave way to thunderous applause as spectators processed the unexpected outcome. Commoners erupted in celebration while nobles stared in disbelief. Against all expectations, against all conventional wisdom, the talentless swordsman had defeated one of Avaloria’s most promising nobles of the younger generation.

In the VIP section, Ambrose Rothschild observed with analytical interest, "Mmh, this might work"