“Huh? He’s awake!”
“Young Master! Are you conscious? Are you all right?!”
An unfamiliar ceiling. No, a familiar one.
When I opened my eyes, I was still in the First Training Ground. Tyr and Anna were looking down at me with worried expressions, and behind them stood Professor Stanley, wearing a somewhat apologetic look.
“My, it seems I failed to control my strength properly. Cadet Ruben Seirin, report to the Academy infirmary immediately.”
There was disappointment mixed in with the apology on his face.
Professor Stanley left me with nothing more than those words and turned away.
Hey, old man. Where do you think you’re going?
We started this, so we should see it through.
“You said, ‘I learned after getting the shit beaten out of me!’ didn’t you?”
Professor Stanley stopped walking.
Using my wooden sword to brace myself against the ground, I rose to my feet. Then I looked him straight in the eyes and raised my sword.
Training in Admuasil’s Space had been hellishly efficient.
I had been able to train for nearly a thousand hours without sleeping or eating. I had even created virtual opponents and gone through all kinds of sparring drills.
Just as Stanley had said, I’d gotten the shit beaten out of me by those virtual opponents.
A thousand hours.
My mind had spent roughly forty days training Forms One through Three of Standard Swordsmanship.
Now, let’s see how well it works in a real fight.
“Come at me!”
*
‘Is he really as crazy as the rumors say?’
Stanley swallowed uneasily as he stared at the wooden sword pointed straight at him.
He had gotten a little too worked up and struck Ruben rather hard on the back of the neck, causing him to pass out immediately. At the time, Stanley had simply thought there couldn’t possibly be a more pathetic weakling.
And yet.
The wooden sword currently aimed at him, along with Ruben’s stance, displayed flawless fundamentals of Standard Swordsmanship.
“I said, come at me already.”
And now he was even provoking him in a way that grated on the nerves.
The fighting spirit Ruben displayed made it difficult to believe that he was the same person who had been beaten around and knocked unconscious moments ago.
Someone capable of acting like this could hardly be called sane.
That bastard was definitely crazy.
‘Professor Livart. You misjudged him.’
Stanley had no intention of belittling Livart’s martial prowess. The man had secured the position of head professor at a young age, after all.
But Stanley was beginning to doubt Livart’s eye for people.
Still, seeing how drastically Ruben’s basic stance had changed from before, he couldn’t deny that he was beginning to feel some anticipation.
“Cadet Ruben Seirin. Your arrogance has gone too far. If that confidence of yours proves baseless, I’ll deduct points from White Class. Do you still want to try again?”
“Of course. But if I block your attacks, you’ll have to award our class that many points instead.”
‘This bastard!’
One thing was certain.
Regardless of Ruben’s aptitude as a warrior, that tongue of his was extraordinary.
How many people could possibly maintain their composure in front of this bastard?
Stanley himself had already lost his, hadn’t he?
What an insolent brat.
Unfortunately, it seemed too late to stop this ridiculous spar now.
The cadets had already heard the words “deduct points” and “award points,” and they were beginning to murmur as they turned to watch.
‘Fine. I’ll teach you that words carry consequences.’
“That’s enough talk!”
Stanley had drawn his wooden sword before anyone realized it and charged at Ruben.
He attacked along the same sword path as before.
There was no way Ruben could suddenly block it merely because he had passed out for a moment and woken back up.
Perhaps this would at least serve as medicine for the madman’s hopeless arrogance.
CLACK-CLACK! CLACK!
“Hm?”
Contrary to Stanley’s expectations, Ruben smoothly blocked his wooden sword as naturally as flowing water.
A textbook example of the First Form.
No.
There was something beyond that.
A completed sword form carrying the unmistakable feel of actual combat experience began unfolding from Ruben’s sword.
His movements were so close to perfection that it was difficult to believe this was the same person who, only moments ago, couldn’t even perform the forms in the correct sequence.
The other cadets who had been practicing individually stopped moving and began watching their spar.
“Whoa, what the hell?”
“Is that really Ruben Seirin? Wasn’t he getting his ass kicked after being pulled aside just a minute ago?”
“Does one-on-one training with Professor Stanley make you improve that much? Should I ask him to beat me up too?”
“Damn, there aren’t any openings. Not one. Look how perfectly every movement lines up.”
“Are we seriously about to earn points for our class?”
Just as the cadets’ exclamations of admiration proved, Ruben wasn’t being pushed back by Stanley’s attacks in the slightest.
His responses were flawless.
And while the cadets were impressed, Professor Stanley was the one on the verge of falling over from shock.
‘What in the world happened?’
Stanley had never seen anything like this.
He had never even heard of anything like it.
The only logical explanation for the current situation was that Ruben’s earlier flailing(?) before losing consciousness had all been an act.
But why would he bother doing something like that?
If it hadn’t been an act, then this level of improvement was impossible unless he had somehow undergone an awakening while unconscious after being beaten down.
“Cadet Ruben Seirin. What in the world happened to you?”
“I figured it out after getting the shit beaten out of me!”
Ruben had gone beyond merely defending.
Now he was attacking Stanley with surprisingly sharp movements.
There was crisp precision in every cut and thrust.
This was not the level of proficiency one could acquire after practicing only once or twice.
Stanley lightly knocked Ruben’s attacks aside, then decided to test him on the Second and Third Forms.
“Then block this as well!”
“As much as you want!”
This bastard was even speaking informally to him now.
Unlike before, Stanley put considerable strength and speed behind his attacks.
Yet Ruben blocked even those with ease.
The Second Form.
The Third Form.
Both had reached a level close to completion.
The moment Stanley confirmed that, admiration rose within him alongside another, darker emotion.
He couldn’t tell exactly what that negative emotion was.
Perhaps it was the wounded pride of a professor who couldn’t bring down a student who had been stumbling around helplessly only moments ago, even when attacking along predetermined sword paths.
Or perhaps it was simply disgust toward the student known as Ruben Seirin.
But Stanley wondered if that negative emotion might actually be jealousy.
An accumulation of martial talent unlike anything he had ever heard of or seen.
Jealousy toward a sixteen-year-old boy born with such talent.
Perhaps this boy would effortlessly reach the realm Stanley himself had spent his entire life striving toward.
Before Stanley realized it, more and more strength was entering his hand, and the restraint in his swordsmanship was disappearing.
His sword now generated considerable wind pressure with every swing.
“Professor!”
The moment Anna Camille realized that this had gone far beyond the level of a professor instructing a student, she was the first to scream.
It might have been a wooden sword, but when wielded by a master of Stanley’s caliber, it could naturally become a deadly weapon.
Perhaps Anna’s voice never reached him.
Stanley only accelerated his attacks even further.
The afterimages of his swinging sword had become so fast that they were barely visible.
And yet—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The thunderous collisions between Stanley and Ruben’s wooden swords never ceased.
In other words, Ruben was completely blocking Stanley’s attacks even after he had started fighting seriously.
“You insolent brat!”
Stanley unleashed his final attack with an angry roar.
The strike flowed in along a sword path that could not be blocked unless the final movement of the Third Form was executed perfectly.
It was so fast that the cadets’ eyes couldn’t even follow it, and there was enough force behind it to seriously injure Ruben if he failed to block.
BOOM—!
A thunderous impact shook the ground.
Both of them stopped moving.
*
Seriously, has this old man lost his damn mind?
Does he have some kind of grudge against me?!
Stanley had gradually increased the intensity of his attacks throughout the spar until he was coming at me with enough force to make me wonder whether he was using a killing move.
And in the end, he really did use one.
There had been unmistakable killing intent in it.
If I hadn’t used physical enhancement, I would’ve been wrecked and hauled straight to the infirmary.
I had no idea what caused it, but his attacks had clearly been driven by emotion.
Sure, I have a habit of talking like an ass, but trying to kill the youngest son of a count’s family who had just enrolled in the Academy over something like that?
What a psychopath.
Still, that didn’t mean I should get emotional too.
I’m not some stupid sixteen-year-old brat who can’t tell right from wrong.
And I’m certainly not some old geezer like Stanley who grew old without learning how to control his own emotions.
I casually withdrew my sword, which was still pressed against Professor Stanley’s wooden sword, then dropped onto my right knee in a gesture of respect.
“Thank you for your instruction.”
Of course, I didn’t particularly bother suppressing the mocking smirk on my face.
I wasn’t the one who had done something wrong.
Stanley was.
That meant he had no choice but to swallow my mockery here.
Just as I expected, Stanley’s face flushed red when he saw my respectful gesture laced with ridicule.
Shame over his own behavior, anger at my attitude, and all kinds of other negative emotions were probably churning inside him until his chest felt tight.
That’s why you shouldn’t make a disgrace of yourself at your age, old man.
“Kh...... White Class will receive ten additional points. That concludes today’s lesson. By the next class, all of you are to master Forms One through Three completely.”
With those words, Stanley turned around and left.
What a petty old bastard.
You should realize that the reason you’re stuck teaching Standard Swordsmanship here isn’t because you lack skill.
It’s because you’re too damn small-minded.
Then again, if you understood that, you wouldn’t have pulled something like that just now.
“WAAAAAH!”
“Holy crap! Ten points!”
“Isn’t this the first bonus any class has gotten this entire semester?!”
“Long live Ruben Seirin!”
I was just considering whether I should spit at the departing professor’s back when the cadets suddenly swarmed around me.
Still wildly excited, they grabbed me and began tossing me into the air.
The sudden welcome was a little awkward, but it didn’t feel bad.
“Long live Ruben!”
“H-Hah! I-I didn’t exactly work that hard for you guys!”
“Long live the Butt Hunter!”
“Hmph...! I did all of this for myself, but if it helped you too, then you’d better be grateful!”
“Long live Ruben!”
Yeah.
Now this is an Academy.
I can practically feel my self-esteem surging.
I’d been a little disappointed by all the wary looks I’d gotten after my confrontation with Pan Slipel, but those feelings seemed to have vanished completely.
More importantly, though, it was encouraging to know that training inside Admuasil’s Space actually worked in reality.
Of course, it was unbelievably painful and consumed a tremendous amount of mental strength.
But if I used this method properly, then perhaps becoming like Locke wasn’t merely a dream.
A Grand Magicmaster,
and a Grand Swordmaster.
Ruben Seirin.
Damn, that sounds incredible!
Just you wait, you bastards from another world.
Grand Magic Sword Master Ruben Seirin is coming!
*
“How was he?”
Stanley’s private office.
Warm tea sat between Livart and Stanley, sending steam curling into the air and proudly asserting its presence, but neither man seemed interested in it.
Livart stared sharply at Stanley, while Stanley fidgeted under the weight of that gaze.
“He certainly was...... remarkable. I’ve never seen talent like that before.”
“I’ve heard roughly what happened. You used a killing move.”
“Ah, about that......”
Stanley’s disgrace had ultimately been exposed.
There was virtually nothing that happened within the Academy that Livart, its head professor, did not know about.
He was not someone Stanley could fool with a convenient excuse.
In the end, Stanley closed his trembling eyes once, opened them again, and told the truth.
“I suppose seeing such absurd martial talent made me lose myself for a moment. I’m ashamed.”
“Yes. That alone is grounds for severe disciplinary action. But I did not come all the way here merely to point out your mistake.”
There was more curiosity boiling in Livart’s eyes than sternness as he reprimanded Stanley.
“I heard that Ruben took a killing move from you, a 6th-Class Warrior, without so much as a scratch.”
“Yes.”
“And immediately before that spar, he couldn’t even properly perform the First Form of Standard Swordsmanship.”
“That’s also correct.”
“How could that possibly be?”
Livart let out a short laugh.
Even he seemed dumbfounded by the question he himself had asked.
“Observe him far more closely from now on. If he has a secret, you must uncover it. The Dean and I believe Ruben Seirin will become either Lion Heart’s nightmare...... or its future.”
Relieved that he had avoided disciplinary punishment, Stanley quietly nodded.
But Livart’s eyes sharpened one final time as he added,
“From now on, however, you will do nothing more than observe. If you make the same mistake again, you will not be leaving this Academy quietly.”
A thin thread of killing intent seemed to prick at Stanley’s mind.
Stanley had no choice but to nod once again.