Isekai'd Into The Wrong World-Chapter 90: Ch - Light Spell

Ryan’s eyes fluttered open.

It was pitch black.

Ryan’s eyes couldn’t see any further than his hand.

The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of breathing from the other beds.

"Hahahaa," a stifled chuckle came from the center of the room.

From only half a day of constant meditation, I’ve finally surpassed mid tier 1 and i’m already inches away from tier 2. I might even be half-step teir 2... I just don’t know how to check.

Well I can’t expand my mana capacity anymore. I don’t want to accidentally bar myself from the trial after all.

Ryan stretched, and then stood, assessing the room.

James was sprawled on his bed, one arm hanging off the side. Deep snoring.

Jared lay curled on his side, bandaged arm tucked close. His breathing was faster, lighter. Both were completely unconscious.

Eleanor’s curtain was drawn. Soft breathing came from behind it.

Everyone was completely out.

Ryan shuffled over to his desk, careful to not bump into a desk, or a bed. When he finally inched his way over, he lit a wax candle. The small flame cast flickering shadows across the room.

As the light spread, Ryan noticed something on Eleanor’s desk.

A book. And on top of it lay a piece of paper.

He crossed the room quietly and picked up the note.

Just a single number: 129

Ryan frowned. What is...

Oh.

He looked at the book and realised what it was immediately.

It was the light spells book from Malick’s class.

Its must be a page number, probably for a page in this light spells book.

Eleanor must have been researching while they trained.

Ryan picked up the book carefully and flipped to page 129.

His eyes scanned the page.

Ryan absorbed every single word greedily.

By the time his eyes had finished devouring the page, he was stunned...

"What the hell is this?" He muttered, shaking his head.

"Wait... maybe...?"

—————

The morning training session was brutal.

Garsen drilled Ryan relentlessly—full armour sparring for three straight hours. Smal five minute breaks. But no mercy. Every mistake punished with a strike that left new bruises beneath the steel.

But Ryan was improving.

His movements in armour were smoother now. Much less clumsy than they were. The weight still dragged at him, but he’d learned to work with it instead of fighting against it.

Garsen had even nodded once. Just once. But it couldn’t have been a better feeling for Ryan.

"Again," Garsen commanded, raising his training sword.

Ryan read Garsen’s movements, and then settled into his Long Fang stance. The great helm restricted most of his vision—there was just a narrow slit to see through.

Garsen attacked.

Ryan parried and riposted. Their blades rang out across the training yard.

Then, midway into the bout, through the slit in his helm, Ryan caught movement.

A figure. Standing at the edge of the yard.

Completely armoured. Head to toe. Helmet closed. No house sigil visible. It was very plain armour similar to Ryan’s.

The figure was just... watching.

Ryan’s focus wavered for half a second.

BAM.

The training sword slammed into the side of his helmet.

The world spun. Ryan staggered and fell hard onto his back. His ears rang and eye’s blurred.

Garsen’s face appeared above him, expression cold.

"Never lose concentration," Garsen said flatly. He extended a hand and pulled Ryan to his feet. "In the Trial, that mistake kills you."

"I know," Ryan muttered, shaking his head to clear it. "Sorry."

"Don’t apologise. Do better."

Ryan nodded. His neck ached from the impact.

Then Ryan heard footsteps. Squelching sounds of heavy armour traversing ground that had been rained on the day before.

The armoured stranger quickly approached them from across the training yard.

Garsen turned to face the intruder.

The figure stopped a few paces away. Their identity hidden behind the closed helmet.

Ryan pulled off his own helm, breathing hard. Sweat flooded down his face.

"Can I help you?" Garsen asked. His tone was neutral but wary.

The figure didn’t respond immediately. Then, slowly, reached into a pouch at their belt.

They took out something. And then extended a gauntleted hand toward Ryan.

It was... a gem.

Quite large. Red. Perfectly clear. It caught the morning light and seemed to glow from within.

Ryan stared at it. "What is this?"

The figure’s voice came muffled through the helmet. They spoke deliberately weirdly to be unidentifiable.

"For you," the voice said.

Garsen stepped closer, eyes fixed on the gem. His expression changed. Surprise. Maybe even awe.

"That’s a fire Renalt," Garsen said quietly. "It’s worth more than what I make in over a year. Where did you get this?"

The figure ignored the question. Kept the gem extended toward Ryan.

"Take it," the muffled voice said.

Ryan hesitated. But then reached out and took the gem.

It was warm, heavy and smooth.

"Why?" Ryan asked, staring at the gem in his palm.

The figure was silent for a moment.

"Because I want you to know you can trust me," the muffled voice said.

Ryan looked up. "I don’t even know who you are."

"No, you don’t and we must remain that way. I can’t reveal my identity." The knight’s tone was all over the place. "But I will fight with you, Ryan, in the combat tomorrow."

Ryan’s grip tightened on the fire Renalt. It pulsed warmly against his skin.

"Hold onto that," the voice continued. "I’ll be back for it tomorrow morning. When the trial begins."

The figure turned and began walking away.

"Wait—" Ryan started.

But the knight didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.

Just walked across the training yard and disappeared between the buildings.

Ryan stood there, holding the gem while Garsen remained beside him, watching the mystery knight go.

"Well," Garsen said finally. "That was an odd person."

Ryan looked down at the fire ruby. Then at his instructor.

"We have our sixth fighter," Ryan said quietly.

"Congratulations." Garsen studied the direction the knight had gone. "Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a problem for you."

Ryan closed his fist around the gem.

"Tomorrow we’ll find out."

—————

The common area was more crowded than usual.

Students clustered in groups, talking in low voices. Many glanced at Ryan as he passed.

The Trial was all most people could talk about.

Ryan caught fragments of conversation as he walked.

"—heard Rellick’s fighting—"

"—six against six, all Tier 1—"

"—tomorrow at dawn—"

"—they don’t stand a chance."

Ryan kept his head down and pushed through to the stairwell.

His legs ached. His shoulders throbbed. Every step reminded him of the past three days. Three days of relentless training. No sleep. Just meditation, combat drills, and pain, mixed with a five minute break here and there.

But he was way stronger than before.

On Friday I’ll take down Navius myself.

He reached his floor and walked down the hallway. Ryan opened the door to his room.

James and Jared were both there. Sitting on their beds. Talking quietly.

They looked up as Ryan entered.

"Well?" James asked. "How was the training session? Are we any closer to havng a sixth combatant?"

Ryan pulled the fire Renalt from his pouch and held it up.

Both brothers stared.

"What is that?" Jared asked.

"I think it is a fire Renalt," Ryan said. "It’s a gift from our mystery fighter."

"Our what?"

Ryan explained about the armoured figure. The promise to fight with them in the trial tomorrow.

When he finished, James and Jared exchanged a look.

"And you trust this person?" James asked carefully.

"I don’t know them," Ryan admitted. "But they gave me this." He held up the gem. "Instructor Garsen said this is worth more than a year’s salary. And they’re coming back for it tomorrow. That’s... something."

"That’s a very expensive ’something,’" Jared muttered. "Who just hands over a fire Renalt to a stranger?"

"Someone who wants us to trust them," Ryan said. "Someone who’s serious about fighting with us."

James leaned back against the wall. "So we might have six fighters. You, me, Jared, Marcus, Jeremy, and... mr. mystery knight."

"That’s the team," Ryan confirmed.

Silence settled over the room.

"We’re really doing this," Jared said quietly. "Tomorrow morning. A trial by combat, I never foresaw myself fighting in one of these."

"Divine judgment," James added. His tone was nervous... even a bit shaky.

Ryan sat down on his bed. The fire Renalt still warm in his hand.

"We’re doing this," he confirmed. "And we’re going to win."

"Confident?" Jared asked.

"Certain," Ryan said.

James smiled slightly.

Jared stretched and winced. "Then I guess you should actually sleep tonight. Like Garsen said. Be sharp tomorrow."

"Agreed," James said. He shivered nervously and then lay down and closed his eyes. "Don’t wake me, even if the world ends."

Ryan set the fire Renalt carefully on his desk and then lay back on his bed.

His body begged for rest.

A few hours. Just a few hours of actual sleep.

Then tomorrow...

Tomorrow we fight.

Ryan closed his eyes.

And for the first time in three days, he let himself actually sleep.