"Then try me!" one of the boys interrupted eagerly before Leon could finish.
At this age, boys were especially susceptible to provocation.
They were fired up now, and one of them even jeered, "Heh, with your tiny frame, don't blame us if you get hurt!"
Tiny frame—that phrase stomped directly on one of Lee Kiwook's landmines. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the three boys who, truth be told, were all smaller than him. His fingers twitched, itching to act.
Seeing that things were about to escalate, Leon quickly stepped to Lee Kiwook's side and declared, "Count me in. I'll only use one spell too."
"And me!" Elion chimed in as he glanced at both sides, counted the numbers, and decisively raised his hand.
Lee Kiwook didn't want a trash-talk session to escalate into a full-blown group battle. He waved them off. "It's fine. Just me is enough."
Leon was taken aback to be rejected right after stepping up. He stared at Lee Kiwook in disbelief, fuming. "Don't push it too far! If it weren't for you… I wouldn't even bother!"
Meanwhile, the three noble boys seized the moment of chaos on their opponents' side and wasted no time drawing their wands.
They began chanting the long incantations needed for their more powerful spells, clearly intending to open with their ultimate moves.
In the wide classroom, a swirling vortex with a diameter of two to three meters formed at the center. Sharp icicles and flashes of lightning spun within the whirlwind.
The other young mages in class all scrambled to the corners of the room, excitedly watching the scene unfold. Some, concerned while discreetly prepared communication spells, ready to summon an instructor at any moment.
Elion and Leon stood a short distance away.
One stared at Lee Kiwook with obvious worry, while the other pretended not to care, even though his fingertips were already gathering elemental energy, ready to act the second things went south.
But Lee Kiwook, standing calmly at the eye of the storm, wasn't worried at all.
In fact, he even felt a little guilty.
After all, his magic resistance was high enough to nullify any spells below level 50.
Forget taking damage—these Level 5 beginner spells couldn't even scratch his armor.
"What's wrong? So scared you forgot how to chant?" one of the boys taunted when Lee Kiwook remained unbothered, letting loose the classic lines of cannon-fodder arrogance.
The tiny shred of guilt that had risen in Lee Kiwook vanished instantly.
He had spent his life trying to be harmonious and accommodating, believing in the idea that "taking a step back opens up the sea and sky." But this—this was his first real moment of face-slapping triumph—and damn, did it feel good!
His eyes curved upward with a smile. He opened his palm and calmly uttered, "Fireball."
Unlike in the holographic game, in this real version of the world, casting Fireball didn't consume a fixed amount of mana.
Lee Kiwook could now freely adjust the output based on his will.