Transmigrated into a Noble’s beaten son

After a while, the sport "track and field" was called to begin. It was also the sole event Naell would participate in.

It was not necessarily his willing choice, but upon reading all his options, it was the only one that was still normal for his bland taste.

And the fact that he was voted into participating there by their section, made it so that he had no choice.

"Thank you for agreeing to participate Naell, sorry for the trouble!"

He could still recall how their class president, the well-mannered and sociable man named Januar, told him apologetically that day.

"It's no problem President."

Hence he was quite annoyed when Owly stopped him from going back to the library; afterall, it would be his only time of rest before what was about to come.

"Runners get ready."

'You'll definitely pay for this you—'

"On my mark, get set-"

"Achoo, HOOT."

Then the bang of the festive fire magic rang for everyone within the vicinity.

"Go!"

• Owly, you okay? •

• M'fine Casper, just a slight cold, HOOT! •

Hurriedly, all participants ran in sync. Martial artists began coating their bodies with aura, while Mages floated in the air.

Naell was of course one of them, who immediately positioned himself while levitating towards the finish line.

'Who was the other one again...' Thought Naell as he quickly remembered, track and field required two representatives from every class, yet upon filling it, anyone was allowed to participate voluntarily.

It seemed he was still deep in thought with random things. Unlike him though, the fierce rivalry of students began with mages pulling off some magic to halt their competition.

Wind magic slowed others' movements with small tornado-like magic swirling among the paths. Fog magic blocked their sights, hampering and preventing runners from seeing with ease.

Water made the land slippier affecting all the arts users in the process. Earth magic and timed traps hid from beneath ready to unload a vast array of tricks that were quite annoying.

Of course, most of that magic was aimed at the arts users. It was quite petty but the rivalry between artists and mages did stem from way back in history.

Expecting their taunts, some Martial artists with their better aura and body raced for a head start, leaving the slow mages behind in dust from the very beginning.

While most were sulking from being a victim of such rivalry, Naell and a couple of weirdos were pleased to be left alone.

'Now I can enjoy some peace and quie—'

"Uh... greetings." Said one of the students upon approaching Naell.

His brown hair was fashionably parted to the side. On his face was a scar that stretched from one cheek to the other, and he sported a bandana that covered his forehead.

Behind him were a few other students that had been chosen like Naell to represent their classes, all of whom seemed to be the same age as him.

They were all in a daze upon watching the young master's slow pacing. It made several of them more nervous as they glanced around suspiciously.

• What's up with them, HOOT? •

Naell thought he heard Owly. It was quite odd yet he knew perfectly well that the young owl would have asked if he flew by him.

"We- um...young master Naell-" Meekly said the brunet before he and the other students bowed down their heads slightly in sync as they jogged.

[ Please forgive all of us for forfeiting without notice! ]

"...Eh?"

Because of the terrorism, talk of the sports festival truly had died down. Gossips regarding each student varied, yet to the adventurers that stood before Naell, only one of those rumours mattered.

They had heard the speculation surrounding Naell, accusing him of rigging his matches. At first, all of them couldn't care less.

Not only was Naell known for his infamy in the past, but it was also a good excuse for them to save face by not continuing the duel.

That had only amplified when Naell and Lesjon fought as the two mages of monstrous power proved they were on a different level.

'Yup, it was the right decision to resign from the match.' All of them thought that way.

Yet after catching a glimpse of Naell defending the helpless in the terrorist attack, they all viewed him in a different light.

Especially when they heard that he was actually the one who defended Taglagas successfully against the pieces of Lucile.

Since then, all of them banded together seeking a way to ask for the young master's forgiveness. Fortunately, the opportunity presented itself in the form of that common sport.

"We really didn't mean for any of that to happen, young master!" Earnestly said one girl who had several daggers sheathed, a powerful aura emitted from each blade.

"..."

Naell wanted to reply but seeing all of them equipped with adventurer-like garbs, he could not help but think they were really there for an assassination.

Sensing the misunderstanding, the one who spoke first introduced himself,

"Forgive our manners, I'm Trobi Ogle, a swordsman of our party."

He was a normal-looking guy, but what made him quite odd was that he wasn't really a martial artist.

"You're a magic knight?"

"Mhm! Yes in training, I'm actually your classmate Naell."

"...Oh! Sorry."

"Haha, it's fine, young master Lesjon told me you would be like him in this aspect."

After hearing his cousin's name, Naell finally remembered Trobi. He was one of Lesjon's so-called lackeys, Owly once proclaimed.

"Wait, if you're here, does that mean you volunteered?"

"Yep."

"..." The awkward silence that followed was due to Naell's woeful thoughts.

'...I shouldn't have joined.'

Saving the conversation, the brunette then spoke. Her way of speaking was rather smooth and lovely.

"I'm Febra, the archer of our party. It is nice to be your acquaintance, young master Naell."

Unlike Trobi who was actually a noble himself, Febra Yi came from the Easterside Empire.

She was from a family of merchants that had raised her to learn their mercantile ways, yet when her aura was awakened as a child, her willingness to study in EDSD was brought to life.

Thus, Febra was supported in her venture to learn the new 'trade' of adventuring. Nevertheless, since she's not a fully-fledged fighter, she enacted upon her duties as the party's responsible manager.

Naell nodded and was really impressed upon observing her aura; it was calm, immensely serene, yet very calculative. After that, the one with who knows how many knives then spoke,

"I'm Augusta."

She had a proud demeanor, yet it was apparent that she was loved by her party as they teased her upon her introduction.

As all of them finished introducing themselves, Naell then chose to ease their worries,

"It's fine, really. I won't hold all that against anyone."

Their interactions that day made them all more appreciative of Naell. Little did they know, he was very accepting of his rumors, as in the end, that paved the way to him resting quicker having no more opponents to battle.

'Better yet, thank you...' He thought looking straight ahead while trying to hold back his tears of joy.