The appearance of 'Sir Pulsok' in the Main Hall was an unpleasant surprise to Tim. Even though he didn't make it to the second round, he still showed up to cheer on his more fortunate comrades. Most of the losers did the same, so almost the whole class was there. Good thing they forgot to call Agyg, who had no place in a magic contest. Although Pulsok has nothing to do here either, because he's not much of a sorcerer. He's pretending to be in charge now, taking center stage at the table and pushing the teachers to the edges. And why do they allow him to behave this way? This question had been on Tim's mind since he had arrived at the school, and he could not find an answer to it.

  Moreover, just before the contest began, Germeht came over to the teacher's table and handed the goblin some paper with a flattering smile. The goblin nodded approvingly in return, and immediately began to study it. I wish I could see out of the corner of my eye what is in it, Tim thought. But he can bet a hundred to one that Pulsok wouldn't show it to anyone. Not even if he asked nicely.

  Again the butterfly and the ball with the fireflies inside, but now half the number. And Fluppy changed his coloring from pink to pale green. Master Saag-Kof took the parting word and wished the contestants every success. He also announced the new conditions for winning it, and the impartial lot drew Yumial and Alkitmi together.

  Now there were two cups full of water on a pedestal in the middle of the Hall, and it was required to turn the water into ice - or at least to cool it more than the opponent. In the next round, the cups were replaced by rounded wooden blocks: you must break any of them using Super-Strength. And finally, the familiar from the first round pyramids were on the pedestal again, but now it was proposed not to destroy their illusory copies, but, on the contrary, to create them - the one who would have more of them won.

  And if few can compete with a peirot in the skill of kindling fire, then in the same way in the art of freezing, few can leave behind a yusme. And Yumial didn't make it - Alkitmi froze first his water and then her one. They both failed with Super-Strength - either the blocks were too strong, or they were wrong in the formula. Those who had to perform today grabbed their grimoires - no one expected a White Magic assignment, they mostly studied Yellow and Red magic textbooks. But in the third round, Alkitmi had the upper hand: he managed to create three illusory copies, while Yumial had only one, and it was barely distinguishable.

  Their places were taken by Namitil and Tiis-Mir. When it came to breaking wood, Parial indignantly stood up and rebuked the teachers: is it right to conduct power martial arts between boys and girls if the latter are inherently weaker?

  Not all of them, Tim chuckled to himself, glancing at Rumara who was sitting on the other side of the Hall. He wasn't the only one who had the same thought, but the orc girl didn't seem to notice the stares, continuing to leaf through her grimoire.

  "In actual combat, no one looks at that," Master Ven'A'Sash remarked coldly.

  Nevertheless, after some deliberation, the teachers agreed to make a small concession - in case of a draw in the second round and with an approximate equality of power in the other two rounds, the victory would be awarded to the representative of the weaker sex. In response, Tiis-Mir said loudly that she would try to win without any leniency from the 'panel of judges' - and she fulfilled her promise, albeit with a minimal advantage.

  Naar-Tam was more pleased than anyone else about her victory, and it wasn't hard to see why - Tiis-Mir would clearly not be a burden on the team. Neither would Selkise, Tim thought jealousy, though she hadn't been willing to fight to the best of her ability. And she wouldn't even admit why, on the pretext that she wasn't in the mood. Tim, of course, didn't believe her, but he didn't ask: she would tell him herself if she wanted to. With their current level of trust in each other, it would happen sooner or later. She was probably in no hurry to stand out from the crowd, preferring to find out first what happened to those who scored a thousand points - whether they were really going home or being sent elsewhere. Mez'A'Shib might have had similar doubts, refusing to fight Gillmir, but he too was in no hurry to confess, repeating the version about not feeling well. In his heart Tim agreed with him, but he didn't want to lose to an unworthy opponent. Shin'Ye'Het was another matter, few could beat her. It is interesting, who would she fight today? Someone would be very unlucky...

  The next fight, however, did not involve her - Chilajt and Yantau were called to the barrier. Tim was equally good to both of them, so he wasn't rooting for either of them. In the first round, Chilajt had the upper hand - the water in her cup was cooler than her opponent's. In the second round, Yantau got even, breaking his own block, and the gorgon's one was limited to a small crack. However, an error in the formula for creating illusions prevented him from becoming the winner.

  It was as if fate had decided to play a little joke on Parial, choosing as her rival a girl who was excellent at Super-Strength, namely Drega. And while the elf girl had managed to fight on equal footing in the art of Elemental magic, the remaining two rounds were lost with a bang. Today was clearly not her day.

  When "Shin'Ye'Het" sounded, the hall became quiet - who would get to fight the 'princess'? The 'lucky one' was Gook-Luk, who had fearlessly stepped out, but there was an immediate burst of laughter behind her.

  She glanced behind her, trying to understand why, but it only increased the general merriment, and some were blatantly snickering, pointing their fingers at her.

  Master Aerg, frowning, stood up.

  "Come closer!"

  As Gook-Look approached the teacher's desk, Tim saw a sheet of paper attached to her uniform on her back, with "FOOL" written in huge letters. That's what it's all about! It seems that not only on Earth knows a lot about this kind of fun. Though it's unlikely that anyone would want to fall victim to such a prank.

  Tiis-Mir jumped up to her countrywoman and tore the sheet off her back. Tears came to Gook-Luk's eyes.

  "What for!? I didn't wish anything bad on anyone!"

  The teachers, of course, did not appreciate the joke. And decided not to let it go unpunished.

  "Who did it?" the Master of White Magic sternly asked the audience.

  No one, naturally, confessed.

  "I repeat: who did it!?" it sounded even more menacingly, but again to no avail.

  "It seems that a Request for Truth is necessary," he said with regret, turning to the other teachers.

  "I believe there is a simpler solution to the problem," Master Ven'A'Sash suggested, smiling wryly. "Let the culprit's hair fall out and we'll find out who he is!"

  Kakh'I'Geg grabbed her head - and thereby betrayed herself.

  "Yeah, that's who did it. Now tell us why."

  "Oh, just for fun," the drow said mockingly.

  "Well, then someone's about to get very unhappy. Would five nights in the disciplinary cell be enough, colleagues?"

  "Why so blunt when you can do it more simply?" said Master Saag-Kof with a good-natured reproach as he pointed his wand at the drow girl, and her hair turned a toxic green.

  Now it was Kakh'I'Geg's turn to find out what it's like to be mocked by everyone. She ran out of the Hall without knowing what was going on, and never returned.

  "Excuse me, Masters, is there really a spell that makes one bald?" Alkitmi asked.

  "Would you like to check it out for yourself?" - Master Ven'A'Sash grinned wickedly.

  "No, no, I'm just curious," the yusme backtracked.

  "He who lifts his sword shall perish by the sword," Tim quoted a phrase from a movie that had become a classic long before he was born.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  "It's a pity not always," Mez'A'Shib snorted back. "If the teachers hadn't intervened, she would have gotten away with it."

  "They couldn't help but interfere in this situation. Who would have had any respect for them then?"

  "They gave Kakh a good beating: not painful, but hurtful." Naar-Tam admired.

  "Oh, yes, in Merzeran, having hair color like that is considered very shameful."

  "Why?"

  Mez'A'Shib didn't have time to answer: Master Aerg intervened, calling for calm. And he suggested continuing the tournament as well.

  Unfortunately, Gook-Luk had been too affected by what had happened to offer any resistance. And Shin'Ye'Het made it to the third round.

  It was Faelinn and Iwiel's turn to demonstrate their magical talents. Once again, while Iwiel was literally burning with the desire to win at all costs, Faelinn looked a little confused, or rather, depressed. And his loss was quite predictable.

  But no one knew the reason - not long before the start of the tournament, Germeht and Drega approached him and called him aside. Germeht asked him something, and Drega showed him a strange shiny pebble. After that, it was as if he fell out of reality: when he woke up, none of them were there. He checked his pockets first, the crystals were still there, and his grimoire and wand looked undamaged. To be on the safe side, he decided not to tell anyone about it - it wouldn't be much help, more likely to be laughed at. But he was alarmed at what had happened, for the anzimars were obviously coming for a reason. They must have been up to no good, but how would he know which one? He couldn't find the answer, and that made Faelinn all the more nervous, and he lost as a result.

  Kunfor's appearance in the 'arena' was greeted with a deadly silence, but his opponent, Ruum-Fib, was enthusiastically welcomed. Moral support inspired the peirot, who managed not only to freeze the water in the cup to the bottom, but also to create almost a dozen copies of the pyramid. Only the second round came down to a draw - the blocks were broken by both of them.

  "Do you see that? The goblin again is making notes in the paper Germeht gave him," Mez'A'Shib whispered to his friends. Tim, who was concentrating on the duels, hardly looked at 'Sir Pulsok', but he nodded his head just in case.

  "Why?" Naar-Tam inquired perplexedly. "Everyone can see who won!"

  "Maybe he marks the absentees?" Ri-Bo suggested.

  "But the tournament is voluntary!"

  "Maybe he just draws stuff out of nothing to do," Tim supposed, remembering his flaw.

  "I don't think so. Okay, in case it turns out on its own."

  And they switched to Eliavin's duel with Xitati. The elf gallantly motioned for the yusme to begin, and she had no trouble turning water to ice. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break the block. And her illusions proved far less believable than those of the elf. Despite her grief, Xitati still found the strength to smile and congratulate Eliavin on his victory. And she got a round of applause for it - not everyone is able to admit defeat without losing his or her dignity.

  And then something happened that no one could have foreseen. Taeron was summoned, but he was not in the Hall, and no one knew why.

  "According to the tournament rules, a participant who fails to show up for the competition will suffer a forfeit," Master Aerg announced in a judicial tone.

  But then the goblin, who had been silent until then, intervened.

  "There is a suggestion to make a substitution: instead of the absent pupil let another pupil take part. That one over there!"

  He pointed at Germeht.

  "Actually, he dropped out in the first round, being punished for unsportsmanlike conduct," the Light Magic teacher said through gritted teeth.

  "I know. But there are situations where we can and should show mercy and compassion, giving a chance to make amends. Just look at him - he has already realized his mistake and is ready to prove it by deeds!"

  Germeht did not effortlessly put an embarrassed smile of remorse on his face, though the roguish expression had not disappeared from his eyes.

  "The bastard!" Ri-Bo whispered indignantly. "How can you trust such people?"

  His feelings were shared by many, but only Gmuruk spoke aloud.

  "Why should he be allowed and I shouldn't? I may have reformed too, and I want to perform! If you allow me, I'm ready to fight him right now!"

  "Is that a way to address teachers?" the goblin pretended to be indignant. "I'll have you thrown back in the disciplinary cell for disrespect. Will you go there yourself, or will the ghosts help you?"

  "I'll make it myself! I have no business being in a place where there's no equity!"

  "Neither do we!" in solidarity with their compatriot, Shugiz and Urgrot also left the Hall. Of the orcs, only Rumara was left, who had yet to perform.

  "Are such substitutions allowed by the rules?" Master Iskitt hesitated.

  "Rules are made to be broken," replied Master Ven'A'Sash with a chuckle.

  "I don't agree with that kind of substitution!" Gan'I'Tar, who was about to cross her wands with Taeron, declared suddenly and firmly.

  "That's your problem," the goblin answered sarcastically.

  "In that case, I decline to take part in the tournament. You may, if you wish, deem me defeated."

  And, with her head held high, she returned to her seat. No one detained her or dissuaded her.

  "She's proud, it wouldn't work for me," Mez'A'Shib said with a touch of envy. "I suppose children are brought up differently in the outlying Houses than in the capital."

  Germeht, meanwhile, was receiving 'well-deserved' congratulations from his buddies and, to all appearances, had no qualms about the undeserved victory. In fact, no one else rejoiced over it except them.

  The dislike of anzimars had a fatal effect on Virda, who was following. Her appearance in the 'ring' was met with insulting shouts, and only the intervention of Master Aerg pacified the audience. As a result, it didn't even get to the third round - having lost in the first two to Rumara, Virda dropped out of the contest. And, as it seemed to Tim, without any regret, but rather with a sigh of relief.

  "Now your turn, Naar. Are you ready?" Ri-Bo winked at his friend.

  "I look forward to it!" the peirot replied cheerfully.

  But it wasn't he who was summoned, it was Gillmir and Mikpir.

  "Then who shall I fight?" Naar-Tam wondered. "I thought everyone else had gone."

  "So not everyone. Fingor has not yet fought."

  "But he was eliminated in the first round of the tournament!"

  "Are you sure?"

  "Not a hundred percent, but almost."

  "That means you'll be fighting Elsingor!"

  The tilfing was wrong again: Eliavel was Naar-Tam's rival, after Gillmir not without difficulty defeated Mikpir. The peirot, unlike the elf girl, was not too serious, and instead of freezing the water, boiled it.

  "Nice enough, though not quite on topic!" Master Saag-Kof appreciated the humor.

  In the second round, after waiting for Eliavel to break the block in half, Naar-Tam declared: it's not hard to break a good thing, but it's not easy to rebuild it from the wreckage.

  "But I'll give it a try!" he said with a loud voice. "Ains ulteak toi focar!"

  Unfortunately, his attempt was not successful.

  "This spell requires far more mana than a first-year apprentice normally has," Master Iskitt said with regret. "Though in the old days there were individuals who were quite adept at Transformation magic. Do you remember Lax? Though it must have been fifty years ago."

  "He had an innate gift for transmutation, but on the whole, he was no better at transformation than the others," Master Ven'A'Sash countered.

  "What else are you going to surprise us with?" the latter referred to peirot, and pyramids appeared on the pedestal.

  "That's what! Sortez tiuni famroge!" and the pyramids, rushing toward each other, clanked together.

  "How interesting! Magnetism!" Master Saag-Kof marveled.

  "If there were prizes for originality, you would have won," Master Aerg concluded. "But since it was an entirely different skill that had to be demonstrated, Eliavel wins."

  "I think you're being a little hard on him," Master Nimikel stood up for Naar-Tam. "The apprentice clearly has a mastery of magic, just a peculiar way of looking at the task before him. I think he deserved five points."

  None of the teachers argued, and the elf teacher's suggestion was greeted with applause, joined by Tim, Ri-Bo and Mez'A'Shib.

  "What's the idea of a joke all of a sudden?" they asked first when the peirot sat down next to them.

  "It just seemed too boring to do what everyone else was doing. For that matter, in a real fight, no one sets any conditions for anyone - everyone uses the spell they see fit."

  "Aye," Mez'A'shib nodded his head in agreement. "In our schools of magic, whoever won was right. How you win is another matter."

  There were no more fireflies in the ball, and Fluppy, believing his mission was accomplished, was gone. And Master Saag-Kof, having congratulated all the participants of the tournament, both losers and winners, awarded each of the latter ten points.

  "I think we can offer a better award," the goblin intervened again. "Make it twenty points!"

  No one expected that; many clapped their hands again, but Tim and his friends didn't join in this time.

  "There's a reason for that," Mez'A'Shib expressed the general opinion.

  -"Today's winners advance to the third round," Master Saag-Kof continued, "which will take place..."

  "...in three days," the teacher of White Magic prompted.

  "From the present twelve, six will be chosen and they will fight among themselves in the semi-final. The three winners will meet each other in the final, where the strongest student of the school will be determined."

  "Why don't we combine the third round with the semi-final and the final?" Another intervention by 'Sir Pulsok' stumped the 'panel of judges'.

  "It's not usually the way...," Master Iskitt muttered.

  "They won't have time to prepare," Master Aerg added glumly.

  "No problem, we'll give them more time to prepare. Seven days would be enough, don't you think?"

  -Well, let's see if it's worth it," the Master Ven'A'Sash said, smiling ironically.

  Of course, no one wanted to hear the pupils' opinions, but the goblin hastened to sweeten the poisoned pill, anticipating the complications that might arise:

  "With the permission of our esteemed Principal, the semi-finalists will receive fifty points each, and the finalists will receive as many as one hundred! In addition, the winner of the tournament will be awarded a commemorative gift with very valuable magical properties!"

  "That's very generous," Master Ven'A'Sash chuckled.

  But no one heard her as the audience erupted in applause again, at the prompting of someone from the anzimars. This time, Tim and his friends joined in, but they didn't make much noise.

  "It seems that in seven days we will have an unforgettable spectacle," Mez'A'Shib commented sarcastically on the 'people's jubilation'.