I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 858: Not a Dimwit

Adam’s encouragement didn’t reach Elliot. Nothing much could, not when soil painted his vision in a musty brown, when the scent of the earth strangled him, and when insects he was glad he couldn’t see touched him with viscous appendages.

He wanted to cry. To give up. He felt trapped in a burrow, like a rodent surrounded by predators. Terrified that the tunnel he had dug and crawled into would bury him. All that... and the sting in his chest each time he tried to justify giving up.

Three archmages, one at best. Older. Years of training in tactics, war spells. But he had to deceive them before they caught Desmond...

Each time the sting returned, he squeezed his miniaturised golem against his chest. The small mana drill hastened their digging as well. If Adam said it was possible, then he would do it. He trusted him, while loathing himself.

Stress gnawed at him, but Adam had already given him the answer. It wasn’t a test. It was an opportunity. To build experience. No, to forge the foundations of his self-confidence. He wasn’t the dimwit anymore. He was Elliot, the ten-year-old mage who would snatch a place in the top three of the House of Exorcism against monsters like Trevor, Nadia, and Jonathan!

As a steely glint entered his eyes, a thundering sound, followed by winds shredding it, broke the silence of his digging.

That should be where Maxwell students defended their crystal. He dug upwards, then dispelled his mana drills. Couldn’t let the defending team notice him, so he continued shovelling down with his bare hands. Always in the same direction—where sounds were loudest.

His fingers burned, his nails feeling as if he had plunged them into a furnace. But his eyes brightened. He heard voices a couple of meters behind him.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" A teenager sighed heavily. "You’re fast, I’ll give you that, but that’s all you have to yourself, and a mouse won’t bother us into spending more energy than necessary."

"Shoo, shoo. Don’t force us to make the effort, or you won’t return to your dorm in one piece," a woman continued, voice dripping with condescending disdain.

"What’s taking Bismarck and Tristan so long? I’m tired of this fly’s noise." The third yawned so exaggeratedly that Elliot heard it underground.

"YAHOOO! You’re just the lowest bunch in Maxwell’s basket, relayed to defend while his best team attacks. Pathetic!"

Desmond’s clamor drew Maxwell’s attention. He shifted his gaze from the humiliating display of his strike team to his defenders.

Desmond’s lightning boots flashed, but before he could strike, Basile—the team leader—waved his staff down. Winds crashed down like hammers, while his companions erected earth and water walls in a square area around Desmond.

The wind spell carved him into the plain with a disturbing crunch. Before his bloodied lips could gasp for air, the soil slithered around his limbs, solidifying into rock bindings.

Maxwell shook his head, noting Desmond likely had a rib or two broken. "That’s why Adam can’t win. Speed is valuable, but weak against large-scale spells," he explained for the surrounding students, already turning back toward Adam’s bastion.

However, Quintella tugged at his sleeve with a headshake. "How many team members does my big brother have?" She didn’t let him answer and pointed at the tower a few meters in front of Desmond. "He believes he’d win, so I think you should watch that side."

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. The dimwit? Now he was weak, inexperienced. Perhaps in a few years. Despite his harsh assessment, his gaze remained on the tower.

What if Quintella was right?

As he did, Elliot’s wounded nails clanged against cold metal. He had reached the foundation of the tower!

He kneeled beside his golem, whispering, "Hide for two minutes, then jump inside and break the crystal."

The golem scrambled behind an uneven pile of dirt without a sound, and Elliot focused on the metal overhead. Things would have to go fast now. They would feel him.

The moment he channelled star mana to melt the transmuted plates, Basile snapped toward the tower, his amused expression collapsing. The wind fly flap used to slap Desmond halted as he roared. "You were just bait!"

Desmond spat blood, forcing a chuckle through his swollen cheeks. "Took you long enough to realise it, idiots."

Basile’s twisted lips curled into a smirk, and he let out a vicious laugh, mirrored by his companions. "That’s what you wanted to hear? Feel better?"

With a snap of his fingers, the wind barrier split open, followed by the studded drills on metal, revealing a bipedal creature. Thick wind flowed from its scalp like hair, and two storms brewed in its eye sockets. It clutched Elliot in its long, thin arms—a few centimeters in front of their crystal. It threw the boy out with a satisfied grin.

Elliot landed beside a wide-eyed Desmond. "Y-you failed?!" he stammered, his eyes wide.

"I almost shattered it with my hammer, but he left his summoned creature inside." Elliot sniffled, face lowered, tears blurring his eyes. "Sorry, Desmond..."

"A touching reunion. The dimwit and the parasite of the House of Exorcism." Basile snickered. "Did you really believe you had a chance?"

From the bleachers, Maxwell sighed. It was finally over. "It was a clever plan. My students are simply—"

Before he could finish, Elliot lifted his face, yelling. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I’m not a dimwit! I’m Elliot. And today, I win!"

Basile spun toward the crystal, just in time to see a small golem leap through the melted tunnel. "STOP IT!" 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

He slashed his staff down, gales roaring inside the tower as he barked. His companions launched water and earth spells as fast, while the summoned creature lunged.

Amidst the raging elements and wind claws, the dark snowflake patterns on the golem’s cuirass gleamed with Elliot’s hope. The red cloth unfurling down its leather belt, rimmed with golden threads and emblazoned with a silver sword piercing a serpent encircled by runes, fluttered wildly. It gripped its right forearm, the sword hilts planted on its pauldrons glistening as it pointed it at the crystal.