The moment the battle began, Countess Reinford had taken out a weapon remarkably similar to Gaius’ own Moonshot. The artefact shook as she unloaded shots without any hesitation, and the Galahad in the video clip was forced to defend against her attacks. His greatsword moved rapidly, and sparks flew as the sword blocked shot after shot.

She leapt back as her weapon’s energy ran dry, tossing out five small balls at her original position. Her feet had glowed slightly in that small leap, bringing her ten metres away and out of harm’s way, as Galahad had charged in the moment her shots stopped.

The balls she tossed out exploded, stirring up clouds, but the countess had slapped on a set of spectacles with her left hand, her right hand loading her Moonshot-like artefact skilfully. Blood flew as she resumed shooting into the cloud of dust — clearly, the spectacles she’d put on allowed her to see where Galahad was, even in the smoke.

All the while, she was tossing out more artefacts, each of them looking something like small disks that floated in mid-air. Together, they formed a small encirclement around the dispersing cloud of smoke, and once she tossed out enough disks to complete the prison, Countess Reinford took to the skies.

Both hands now had a pistol-like artefact in her hand, each of them laying down fire at a measured pace. By now, the cloud of dust that had hidden Galahad from view had faded. The boy’s eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to defend against the incoming attacks, but he was clearly on the backfoot.

Mrs. Clara stopped the clip. “This is why artefacts are important. They allow users to control the battlefield thoroughly without requiring them to pay much attention to it. Of course, there’s a second lesson to be learnt from this, so please continue watching.”

The two on the screen came back to life, but it was somewhat sad to watch. Those disks weren’t just used to contain Galahad — moments after he had deflected another volley of shots, those disks lit up, firing at their trapped prey. His tuxedo lit up, forming a purple film around him. At the same time, purple light gathered around his feet, and Galahad shot skywards, his trajectory putting him on a collision course with the countess.

She was a moment too late to react, and shards of gemstones flew as the teenage boy smashed the greatsword at her with an explosive might. Countless barriers appeared in front of her the moment Galahad was in striking range, and his attack had managed to crush more than half of them in short order.

But that was his last attack.

The disks that she thrown out earlier turned to face him a moment later, and a storm of shots peppered his back before he could deal a finishing blow. The purple film that surrounded him gave way a heartbeat later, and the greatsword, like him, dropped from the skies like a sack of potatoes. The judge caught his falling form a moment later.

The battle was over.

“The second lesson we have for everyone here, from this clip, is to avoid being careless,” said Mrs. Clara. “Reinford, mind telling us what went through your mind when Galahad closed in?”

She stood up after a moment. “I didn’t expect him to do that at the last moment.”

“Exactly. It is natural for people to drop their guard. If you didn’t have that many defences, you would have lost there and then. And in the real world…you would have died,” said the teacher. “Artefacts like those are lifesavers, each and every one of them. Given limited time, creating artefacts like these are always a far better choice.”

She rattled on for a moment, talking about how the school had arranged for expert artificers to teach them how to make artefacts like those, before moving into administrative matters. Things like school rules and people to find if there were any problems…after a while, she started handing out timetables.

Gaius raised an eyebrow when he looked at his. A great deal of artificing theory lessons had been stuffed on it, but the boy was somewhat curious — he remembered that he had trouble with understanding the principles of artificing, due to some restraint by a great god or two. The hows and whys of artificing were pretty much a secret of the great gods, so to see someone trying to teach theories was…

The boy tapped his chin twice.

Should he pose some questions and see what happens? After all, the admission fees of the Phrontistery of Scientific Reasoning were sky-high, so they should at least bear the appropriate risks, right?

With that in mind, Gaius nodded to himself, satisfied, and before long, the class ended. The first day was a short day, and they could actually leave after recess, instead of wasting time on useless things.

Countess Reinford came over moments after Mrs. Clara dismissed the class. “I hope you’re ready for the duel.”

Her words drew the attention of everyone else present, including Mrs. Clara, who was on the verge of leaving. Her eyes sparkled with interest, and within moments, she too was at Gaius’ seat.

“The two of you are having a duel?” she asked.

“She wanted a duel with me,” Gaius replied. “Since she’s the one bothering me, she’ll do something for me if I win. What of it?”

“No, nothing,” she replied. “Reinford, you should at least submit applications for a duel, instead of organising ad-hoc ones like this. There are safety procedures to be followed and everything — I've heard from reliable sources that this boy here doesn’t know how to hold back. Challenging him without a medic is asking to be badly injured.”

Gaius stared at Mrs. Clara in disbelief. This was the first time he heard someone speak that bluntly, and in front of him, no less.

“What?” she asked. “I’m not wrong, am I? You turned someone into a pancake on your first round. If there wasn’t a medic, we would be facing an enquiry or something by now.”

“Pancakes…” Gaius got up. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”