Is It Wrong for an Extra to Steal the Protagonist's Harem?-Chapter 44: Mock Battle [1]

Tuesday Morning. The Training Ground.

The sun beat down mercilessly on the vast, circular arena of the Academy’s Training Ground. Unlike the central plaza, this area was specifically designed for violence, surrounded by towering stone bleachers filled with chattering students.

Professor Cassandra stood on a raised platform, her signature witch hat casting a sharp shadow over her face. Beside her stood Professor Leonard, a hulking wall of muscle with scars crisscrossing his face, the instructor for Combat Magic.

"Welcome," Leonard boomed, his voice naturally amplified by his immense lung capacity. "Today is the day you stop playing with toys and start learning how to fight."

He gestured to the arena floor, where complex magical circles were already glowing.

"Mock battles will be conducted in a simple manner. One versus one. The goal is to unleash magic and defeat the other party."

Cassandra stepped forward, tapping her staff.

"Since I have set up support magic on all students in advance, if the system detects damage above a certain intensity, you will be forcibly teleported to the spectator zone. Therefore, do not hold back. Exert all your efforts to crush your opponent."

A ripple of nervous energy went through the freshmen.

"However," she smiled deviously, "since this is preparation for the Exploration Assignment, there is a special rule."

She clapped her hands.

Dozens of small, identical wooden boxes floated into the arena.

"Scrolls. The price of scrolls usually varies greatly depending on their performance, creating an unfair advantage for the wealthy. But I do not care about your daddy’s money."

She pointed to the boxes.

"To ensure fairness, I have personally selected the scrolls. Each student will draw three random scrolls of the same grade from these boxes. It is up to your luck and adaptability to use them."

"Random scrolls?" "What if I get a non-combat one?" "It’s all luck!"

The students murmured, realizing the chaotic nature of the test.

"Let’s begin! First match: Group 3 vs Group 7!"

****

"Go get ’em, Martin!" I called out, leaning back in the stands.

My teammate, Martin Luke, stumbled onto the stage. He looked like he was walking to the gallows. His opponent was a burly guy from Class B who looked like he ate rocks for breakfast.

"B-begin!"

The burly student ripped open his first scroll immediately.

[Scroll: Rock Bullet]

"Die!"

A fist-sized rock shot toward Martin.

Martin shrieked. He blindly grabbed a scroll from his box and tore it open without looking.

[Scroll: Grease]

SPLAT.

A massive puddle of slippery, viscous oil materialized—right under Martin’s own feet.

"Wha—?!"

Martin slipped. His feet flew into the air like a cartoon character. He face-planted into the dirt with a wet thud.

WHOOSH.

The Rock Bullet sailed harmlessly over his prone body.

"He... he dodged it?" the crowd gasped.

"Take this!" Martin yelled from the floor, ripping his second scroll while lying in the grease.

[Scroll: Summon... Soap Bubbles?]

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Hundreds of iridescent, harmless soap bubbles floated out of the scroll, drifting lazily toward the burly opponent.

"Are you mocking me?!" the opponent roared. He charged forward, intending to finish Martin with a physical tackle.

He stepped into the grease puddle.

SLIP.

"Gaaah!"

The burly student wiped out hard. He slid across the oil like a curling stone, picking up speed until he slid right out of the ring boundaries.

[Winner: Martin Luke!]

"I... I won?" Martin stood up, covered in grease and bubbles, looking confused.

The crowd burst into laughter. Even Emily Frost, sitting next to me, let out a small, uncharacteristic snort.

****

"Next match! Maya vs Reena!"

Maya stood up, cracking her knuckles. She looked at me.

"Watch this, Alex. I’ll show you what a real mage looks like."

She strutted down to the arena. Her opponent was Reena—the girl who had almost burned herself yesterday. Reena looked terrified.

"Begin!"

Reena panic-ripped her scroll.

[Scroll: High-Pressure Water Cannon]

A massive jet of water erupted from Reena’s hand, aiming straight for Maya.

Maya didn’t panic. She smirked.

"Too slow."

She opened her own scroll.

[Scroll: Wind Wall]

A barrier of swirling air formed in front of her. The water cannon slammed into the wind wall.

SPLASH!

The water dispersed violently. However, the sheer volume of the water cannon was too much for a low-level wind wall to completely deflect. The spray went everywhere.

"Ack!"

Maya got soaked.

The water drenched her uniform instantly. The standard Academy uniform had defensive spells against fire and cuts, but it wasn’t waterproof.

The white shirt clung to her skin like a second layer. It became instantly translucent.

"Oh my..."

The male students in the front row leaned forward in unison.

Because Maya had been "distracted" on the rooftop with me earlier, she hadn’t had time to put her bra back on properly. In fact, she wasn’t wearing one at all.

The wet fabric molded perfectly to her curves. Her small but perky breasts were clearly outlined, the cold water causing her nipples to harden into visible points that pressed against the sheer wet cloth. The dark, pinkish-brown circles of her areolas were faintly visible through the soaked white material.

"H-Hey! Look at that!" "Is she... commando?" "God bless water magic!"

The crowd erupted into whistles and murmurs.

Maya looked down at herself. She realized her state. Her face turned a furious shade of red, but instead of covering up, her delinquent instincts kicked in. She got angry.

"You little—!"

She ripped her second scroll.

[Scroll: Chain Lightning]

"Fried chicken!"

CRACK-BOOM!

A streak of blue lightning shot from her hand. Since Reena was standing in a puddle of her own water, the conductivity was maximized.

"Kyaaaah!"

Reena was zapped. Her hair stood on end, smoke rose from her shoulders, and the safety teleportation system activated instantly.

ZWOOP.

Reena vanished, teleported to the infirmary bench.

[Winner: Maya!]

Maya stood there, chest heaving, water dripping from her hair and down her soaked shirt, emphasizing the jiggle of her exposed breasts with every breath. She glared at the crowd, daring anyone to say a word.

She looked up at the stands. Her eyes met mine.

She bit her lip, gave a slight, imperceptible nod, and then wrapped her arms around herself to finally cover up as she walked off the stage.

"That was... educational," I muttered.