Is It Wrong for an Extra to Steal the Protagonist's Harem?-Chapter 61: Combat Training [4]

The maze walls shot up, shifting violently. And simultaneously, numerous magical attacks came rushing toward me from above.

Quaang! Bang!

The power was immense, enough to make heavy stone debris from the training ground floor fly into the air. Each attack carried an undeniable, heavy sense of hostility. Compared to the sloppy, playful attacks poured down during Maya’s evaluation, the intensity here was murderous. They wanted to put the "arrogant freshman" in the hospital.

Boom! Crash!

’Well, it’s just raw output,’ I thought, my [Calculation] breaking down their trajectories instantly.

I calmly deployed a basic [Wind Shield], letting the blasts deflect off the angled aerodynamics, and continued to move forward at a walking pace.

I had various choices available to me. I could focus entirely on defense like Maya. I could use my [Agility]to dodge the straight attacks and parkour my way toward the red flag.

But there was a third option. An option that involved pulling the metaphorical teeth out of the lions above.

’Mana.’

To execute the best move, I needed objective self-assessment. My current MP was 18. Thanks to my defective Internal Circuit, my capacity was severely limited compared to these second-years. However, the friction of my tangled circuit boasted exceptionally high efficiency in raising the purity and density of my mana.

I didn’t have the vast reserves to launch a hundred flashy spells. I had to focus on achieving extremely high efficiency with a limited amount. Quality over quantity.

Instead of obsessing over the size or elemental flashiness of the magic, I would maximize its raw, kinetic power.

Crack!

A non-attribute mana arrow grazed past my shoulder shield. In response, I raised my right hand and gathered my own non-attribute mana.

It was the most fundamental spell taught at the Academy: [Magic Missile]. A simple sphere of compressed energy.

In the original game, a high-level mage would simply summon a hundred of these spheres simultaneously to overwhelm an enemy. But my current body couldn’t handle that multi-casting load.

’If I can’t fire a hundred bullets... I’ll just fire an artillery shell.’

I focused only on the purity of the mana. Using my modern intellect, I mentally modified the ancient spell’s circuitry. I discarded the "form" parameters—the code that kept the missile perfectly spherical and glowing. Why waste mana on making it look pretty?

As I emphasized the circuitry related entirely to destructive kinetic force, the originally well-formed sphere in my hand collapsed, distorting into an invisible, vibrating ripple of heavy, compressed air.

I looked up at the observation deck.

The blonde senior was grinning, winding up a massive fireball.

"When launching a surprise attack, one should always expect counter-battery fire," I whispered.

I flicked my wrist.

The invisible, formless kinetic blast surged upward, tearing through the air faster than a conventional spell.

"Cough—!"

THUD!

The blonde senior didn’t even see it coming. The kinetic blast struck him squarely in the center of his chest. He was lifted entirely off his feet, flying backward and slamming violently into the rear railing of the platform with a sickening crunch. His fireball fizzled out instantly.

Confusion spread across the faces of the other seniors like spilled paint.

’That’s quite satisfying,’ I smirked, feeling the minor recoil in my arm. ’I like it.’

The modification was a complete success. Discarding unnecessary aesthetic elements and maximizing raw impact worked perfectly. Since it was a hyper-efficient method that the game’s original engine didn’t allow for, using it now in reality brought me immense satisfaction.

"Removing obstacles is also an excellent strategy," I called out, my voice echoing in the sudden silence of the training hall.

The seniors stared at their unconscious leader, then down at me in horror.

"W-What was that?" "Wait, he’s retaliating?! Professor, is that allowed?!"

In response to the second-year students’ outraged protests, Professor Leonard threw his head back and burst into a booming, thunderous laugh.

"Is it not okay for you?!" Leonard roared, leaning over the console. "You think real enemies will just stand there and let you shoot them from the high ground? Adapt and deal with it!"

With that remark, the mouths of the second-year students shut tightly. Their arrogance evaporated, replaced by genuine panic.

I dispelled my defensive barrier completely. I didn’t need it anymore. I allocated my remaining mana solely to offense, summoning two more distorted, vibrating kinetic ripples that hovered around my shoulders like invisible cannons.

"What... what is this guy?" Martin murmured from the starting line, his voice trembling.

The absolute silence of the second-year students was deafening.

THWACK!

"Ah! My wrist!"

I fired a second shot, pinpointing a senior who tried to sneak-cast a lightning bolt. The kinetic impact shattered his casting posture, dropping him to his knees as he clutched his bruised arm.

Now, with two of their strongest down and invisible sniper fire locking them down, the magical bombardment raining down on the maze ceased entirely.

I casually continued walking.

Without the barrage of hostile magic pinning me down, the shifting walls of the maze were merely a mild inconvenience. Whenever a wall rose to block my path, I simply used a fraction of my kinetic energy to blast a hole straight through the stone, walking through the dust in a perfectly straight line.

I reached the red flag, grabbed it, and turned around.

I looked up at the second-year students, my gaze cold and scornful.

Not a single one of them dared to meet my eyes.

****

The evaluation proceeded in complete, stunned silence after that. No one else was targeted by the seniors.

"Today’s practical evaluation ends here. You all survived... mostly," Professor Leonard announced, eyeing the groaning seniors as the floating platform slowly descended.

The training ground returned to its original, empty cuboid shape. The second-year students practically sprinted for the exit, carrying their bruised leader. As they left, they shot terrified, lingering glances at me. I didn’t avoid their gaze; I just smiled, tapping the flag against my shoulder.

"Listen up, freshmen," Leonard’s voice brought my attention back to the front. "Today’s evaluation doesn’t carry as much weight as you think, so don’t be too disappointed if you acted like frightened rabbits. After all, you didn’t even use your authorized scrolls."

He crossed his massive arms.

"This test was just to see how you guys perform without scrolls. And I have to say, I am quite disappointed by many. Remember scrolls are just an auxiliary item. The real strength is inside you. SO rather than depending on them you guys should train hard."

He looked at the downcast faces of those who performed miserably.

"I won’t take any more of your time. Just heed my advice."

"That’s it. Everyone dismissed."