The strong wind swept across the sparse trees of the grasslands, making the blades of grass sway wildly, rustling in the wind.
Driven by the gusts, the clouds churned and sank lower.
A storm was coming.
In the midst of the raging wind, Lance’s coat billowed violently, yet he stood completely still.
“Phew—see? I told you we’re a great match.”
Lance let out a breath, a faint smirk curving at the corner of his lips.
Huberian was doing an even better job than he expected.
She had successfully drawn the majority of Flat’s attention, leaving him no time to focus on the support mage positioned far behind.
Which meant—
Lance could now cast spells freely without repositioning.“Now, it’s my turn to heal you.”
He chuckled lightly, and a new magic card appeared in his palm.
As mana surged into the card, the spell etched onto its surface activated layer by layer, like an unfolding scroll—triggered!
A gentle, soothing healing power swept across the grasslands like a spring breeze, enveloping a distant figure.
A pure healing spell.
…
Both the examinees inside the Shadow Realm and the instructors in the conference room watching the battle were visibly surprised.
Lance—
Hadn’t chosen to reveal any new, unconventional spell cards.
Instead, he played it safe, using a healing spell, his primary specialization.
“A defensive counterplay? That’s a bad move.”
A muscular professor, arms crossed, stared grimly at the screen from the conference room’s edge.
Right now, Lance’s teammate was an assassin like Huberian.
Choosing to drag out a battle of attrition against a battlefield mage like Flat was completely the wrong strategy.
Poor decision-making.
Poor team coordination.
The instructors of the Sage Institute, who had hoped to see the two freshmen create a miracle, felt disappointed.
But the very next second—
All the instructors watching Lance’s move froze.
Their expressions turned strange, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed—
As if they had just witnessed something utterly absurd.
Lance… had targeted the wrong person.
His healing spell didn’t land on Huberian—
It hit Flat instead.
“What the hell…”
“Did he just miscast a healing spell?”
Confused murmurs rippled through the room.
“Wait… did he do that on purpose?”
“No, that was a pure healing spell. No special effects. It’s not even one of those ‘toxic heals’ unique to Cleric-class mages. Flat clearly received a proper healing effect.”
At the Healing Department’s round table, the instructors furrowed their brows in confusion.
They knew this spell all too well.
A basic Tier 2 healing spell called 【Slow Recovery】.
Its effect was simple: grants the target a continuous HP regeneration effect.
Healing spells were almost always targeted.
Even the newest White Mage apprentices would rarely miscast one.
If they were in Huberian’s position right now, their blood pressure would be skyrocketing.
Only now did they realize—
Lance was the real actor all along.
The expectation that Lance had built up—
Shattered instantly.
“Wait.”
Vice Dean Roan’s puzzled voice cut through the murmurs.
Almost immediately—
Some instructors noticed the screen.
Flat was gritting his teeth, his face twisted in pain, as if he wanted to roar in anger—
But no sound came out.
At the same time, the exam’s system terminal successfully identified the properties of Lance’s spell—
【Faulty Slow Recovery】
【Category: Spell Card】
【Grade: Purple (Epic)】
【Attribute: Healing】
【Tier: 2】
【Effect: Grants the target continuous HP regeneration. Significantly extends healing range, but weakens healing potency. Inflicts intense pain whenever health is restored.】
【Note: A discarded failure.】
“This is… an enhanced variant of the Blue (Rare) Tier 【Slow Recovery】?”
A professor muttered as he read the effect.
These ‘enhanced’ magic cards weren’t particularly rare.
They were common failures.
By greatly increasing the spell’s casting range, the trade-off was a crippling negative effect, rendering the spell nearly useless.
Cards like these were worthless on the market—the lowest-tier rejects of their rarity.
Most Card Crafters only bought them to break down for materials.
“Oh. Right. Lance has inherently low magic strength… and these failed healing cards all come with a ‘weakened healing’ effect…”
Seeing the pitifully weak healing effect on Flat—
The instructors finally understood why Lance could confidently heal his enemy.
Because the spell was practically useless.
“Then… what’s the point of this card?”
An instructor, after hesitating for a long moment, finally voiced the biggest question.
What was the purpose of using a discarded healing spell… on an enemy?
Vice Dean Roan: “...The purpose is to torture him.”
Instructors: “……”
“And he can keep making his opponent suffer. His healing spells have absurd range—there’s no dodging them.”
“Not only that, the continuous healing effect is considered a buff, so you can’t even remove it with Purification Magic.”
“As long as you can’t kill him, he’ll just keep tormenting you.”
As Vice Dean Roan finished analyzing this bizarre healing magic—
The screen’s display shifted again.
Lance pulled out several more different ‘failed healing cards’—
And stacked all of them onto Flat.
Now, mid-air, in the heat of battle—
Flat’s entire body trembled, his eyes bloodshot, his face twisted in agony from the combined negative effects.
He was in so much pain, he couldn’t even scream.
From a distance—
Lance stood in the grass, looking up at him.
He grinned.
“Ehehe.”
Lance smirked smugly.
This—
This was the true power of 【Friendly Exchange】.
As a proud advocate of the Anti-Trash-Talk Vanguard, I absolutely will not let you swear!
…
“……”
After an unusually long silence, the entire conference room finally understood—
Why Lance was a White Mage.
A never-before-seen revolutionary concept of White Magic—
Not healing his teammates… but ‘healing’ his opponents.
Creating sustained mental distress and psychological breakdowns in the process.
A true swordsman's burial move—pure psychological warfare!
At some point, the instructors began to realize—
Lance Wilfort possessed an innate, powerful taunting talent.
He didn’t even need to use a Taunt skill—
Yet he could easily make people absolutely furious.
Even to the point where they would abandon all reason just to kill him.
…
Artificial Shadow Realm – Eleven Great Plains.
The clouds churned and twisted in the stormy sky, carried by howling winds.
From the distance, thunder rumbled closer, and streaks of lightning occasionally flashed across the darkened sky, illuminating the three flickering figures on the storm-swept grasslands.
With each heavy, booming crash—
It felt like a downpour could come crashing down at any moment.
Flat no longer held even a shred of his former elegance.
Like an enraged beast, his teeth clenched, his face contorted with fury and madness.
The rage within his chest swelled like a volcano on the verge of eruption—blocked, unable to explode, only growing hotter.
Forced to endure the unbearable pain, he wanted nothing more than—
To skin Lance alive!