Having chosen the first one I intended to strengthen, I settled on the elf with the slender sword.
He seemed the most suitable candidate for the first experiment.
Condensing dark magic into my palm, I tried to directly merge it with the technique, intending to strengthen the summoned creature from the outside. However, the result was different from what I expected.
The technique immediately rejected any direct influence from dark magic.
Because of this, the elf's silhouette still remained incomplete, as if the technique itself refused to allow interference with an already formed structure.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"If there's no way to strengthen you directly… then what will happen if I change you from within?" I murmured quietly.
Closing my eyes, I sank into my own consciousness.
Like any summoned creature, tormentors retained part of their essence within the summoner's mind until their final emergence into the material world.
That was precisely why I could already alter their appearance and weapons.
Now, however, I intended to test whether I could affect something greater.
Four familiar figures appeared before me.
I approached the elf with the slender sword and stopped in front of him.
Placing one hand on his head and the other on his shoulder, I began channeling dark magic into him, carefully mixing in a small portion of chaos magic.
A truly minuscule amount.
So little that even a deliberate search would make it nearly impossible to detect.
But it was enough.
Even a faint trace of chaos could alter the very nature of a tormentor.
That was exactly what I was aiming for.
Once I was finished, I opened my eyes and returned to reality.
Immediately afterward, I sent the elf back, allowing the technique to complete the internal changes.
After waiting a few seconds, I summoned the tormentor again.
This time, the changes were obvious at once.
Not only had the power within the figure become noticeably denser, but even its appearance had changed.
Its body still resembled that of an elf, yet small protrusions had begun forming along its forehead, as though something was trying to break through from beneath the skin.
After examining the result, I was satisfied.
The experiment had been a success.
"Attack the wall with dark magic," I ordered.
Receiving the command, the elf raised his slender sword and prepared to strike.
But at that moment, I noticed Keyrin's condition and stopped him before the attack was completed.
I dismissed the tormentor.
Keyrin let out a heavy breath.
She slowly rose to her feet, clearly trying to steady herself and shift into a more comfortable position.
Judging by her state, I realized she had likely developed a headache along with mild dizziness.
But I made no move to help her.
Her reaction to the technique still remained unclear to me.
"Yes, this happens because of the high concentration of mana in one place," Keyrin began explaining, trying to keep her voice steady. "When magic saturates the surroundings to this extent, any creatures other than the owner of that power gradually begin to lose consciousness."
Now her condition made a bit more sense to me.
"Did they… strike the wall?" Keyrin asked, looking at me intently.
"No. I saw your condition and dismissed them," I shook my head, understanding perfectly well who she meant.
Keyrin fell silent for several seconds.
"I wonder how much power they would have if they actually delivered a full attack," she said thoughtfully.
At her question, I only gave a faint smirk.
"We'll find out very soon. During the duel."
Keyrin looked at me in surprise.
"You really aren't planning to hold back at all?"
I paused to think for a moment.
Initially, I had truly intended to conceal my talent for as long as possible.
But with each passing day, more and more dangerous situations kept appearing around me.
Far too many.
So many that I had begun to question whether my original judgment had been correct.
I wanted to stay hidden, avoid attention, and quietly accumulate power from the shadows.
But reality kept pushing me in the exact opposite direction.
The dead have nothing to hide.
Unlike the living.
And as long as I was still alive, I still had a choice.
Besides, the stars within my consciousness remained beyond my reach.
That could only mean one thing.
The question wasn't whether I would obtain other powers.
The only question was when.
"Yes. The situation with the princesses showed me that no matter how hard I try to stay hidden, trouble still finds me on its own," I replied with a faint smile, glancing at Keyrin.
Judging by her appearance, she had gradually recovered.
"I understand. But I still ask that you restrain yourself in your fight against Samantha. She is still my sister," Keyrin said quietly.
There was a plea in her voice she didn't dare express directly.
But I understood what she meant without words.
"Keyrin, I'll do my best not to cause them serious harm. You should understand—I take no pleasure in either fighting or hurting others," I said, then rose from the sofa and walked toward the window.
I needed a moment to calm down and organize my thoughts.
Outside, dusk was gradually beginning to settle.
"Trey, I understand that my request may sound selfish, and you have every right to refuse it. But please, hear me out," Keyrin addressed me in a serious tone.
Hearing the shift in her voice, I turned my head.
As expected, her expression was utterly serious now.
"I'm listening, Keyrin. If it's within my power, I'll try to help," I answered calmly, looking directly into her eyes.
Keyrin lowered her gaze for a moment.
"Don't break her. Try to take Samantha out of the duel in a single strike," she asked softly, lowering her head even further.
I considered her words.
A single strike.
Theoretically, it was possible—but only with precise control of my strength.
"In one strike? I'll try, but I can't promise anything. There will be two of them, while I'm alone," I answered honestly, already mentally calculating possible ways to eliminate Samantha from the fight as quickly as possible.
"I understand," Keyrin nodded quietly.
Silence hung between us for several seconds.
"So, what's our plan now?" she finally asked, looking back at me.
Something else flickered in her gaze—something left unsaid—but I decided to leave that for later.
Now wasn't the time.
"I need to contact the director. Like I said before, I need a witness for our duel," I replied.
Touching the emblem on my uniform, I pressed it three times.
Elite stufons had one more advantage—the ability to contact the academy director directly through their uniform.
While waiting for a response, I couldn't help but think about the near future.
If I won the duel, along with victory I would also gain a new headache in the form of two princesses and an entire army of their admirers.
I had only just enrolled in the academy, yet no matter where I stepped, trouble was waiting for me.
Sometimes, it really started to feel as though the world treated the chosen ones in a special way.
There was a reason they were called cursed swordsmen.
Shaking my head, I heard the director finally answer the call.
"stufon Trey, you made use of the elite stufon' privilege rather quickly. What is it that you wanted?" the academy director said calmly.
"I wished to ask you for a favor, Director," I replied, trying to phrase my request as precisely as possible.