Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.12 – The Knight Wore the Black Octagonal Cap (1)
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...In truth, Lee Han didn't have to accept that duel.
Why not?
'No upside to it anyway.'
Accepting the proposal would bring him nothing.
Especially since...
'What am I supposed to do with those who aren't even human yet?'
The young masters, sprouts, and chicks.
To him, the cadets were nothing more than frail little critters, with a long way to go.
'Some of them are better than average knights, sure.'
The barbarian, the sword prodigy's heir, the Mercenary King's disciple.
And our regressor too.
Those ones were on another level.
But that was just them—the rest were sorely lacking.
To put it extremely, like eagles versus mice.
'Weaker than the instructors? Are they even human?'
Ridiculously, excluding those four, the strongest was Damian Pollet.
Lee Han's three-year instructor (slave).
If the others were mice, that guy was at least a cat.
True to his prestigious knight family upbringing, his basics were solid, and his Fighting Technique was impressive.
He was even showing steady progress in the iron chain jumping drills Lee Han had him doing.
Absurdly, if those four were top-tier talents, Damian was upper-tier at least.
His rotten personality was the problem—otherwise, he had it all.
In any case, given the situation, Lee Han had zero interest in putting them through some proxy battle game.
Sending them out now would just end in disaster.
...But.
"Instructor! We'll do it—proxy battle."
"Fleeing in fear from some spellcaster? Pathetic."
"A mere spellcaster dares challenge us? Hah! This is an insult to knights!"
"I'll bring back their heads."
"Send me in. I'll make them piss themselves just hearing the Swordsmanship Department's name."
"......You brats."
Even as cadets, they sure acted like knight candidates.
'That's right—can't just sit back when a spellcaster picks a fight with knights.'
They got it.
'These kids are growing up nice.'
Lee Han rubbed his itchy nose, hiding his touched expression.
He was starting to understand a master's pride in his disciples' growth.
Perhaps sensing his disciples' fierce resolve, Lee Han leaned toward accepting the proposal—but first, he'd hear what nonsense the guy had to say.
And sure enough.
"'The winner of this proxy battle must unconditionally obey the loser's orders during their instructor duties.' ...Did I read that right?"
"That's correct."
"What a clown. Conditions this childish actually exist?"
As expected, it was beyond ridiculous—downright filthy.
"Hah, just decide if you're in or not!"
He knew it was outrageous himself.
Such a sloppy condition.
This is where his youth showed.
'Misjudged him because of his looks and speech.'
Mages were so rare that the department had few to begin with—that's how a kid like him snagged a professor position.
...Though his appearance probably helped.
Anyway, aside from being a mage and not looking 28 but 82, he was full of amateur flaws.
Short-sighted, and couldn't rein in his fiery temper.
At a more mature age, that might improve...
'Nah, guys like him just turn sly instead.'
Already so hot-headed now—with power and authority backing it later as he ages?
That type turns cunning.
The worst kind to deal with.
But right now? Easy prey.
"I refuse. No benefit for me—why would I take orders from some spellcaster?"
"Benefit! On the contrary, I'd obey yours...!"
"You?"
"...I'd follow your orders. Don't you know how valuable that chance is?!"
Quickly backpedaling to avoid a fist to the face, Audwal pressed on confidently.
Which made sense—he'd get to order a mage around.
An opportunity worth more than gold.
From his perspective, he knew his own value; it was a well-considered condition.
"...Out of curiosity, what exactly do you want to order me to do for this?"
"Hmph, first, rescue Lady Irene from your clutches."
"Again?"
"Make you kneel!"
"...Again."
"Then naturally... Ahem, nothing much else."
"......"
...What an original repeat offender.
Offering himself as a slave for that?
When Lee Han pointed out the absurdity, he exploded.
"For a mage's honor, gladly!"
"...Geez."
A bad guy, personality wrecked, discriminatory—but oddly incompetent at it all.
This was a Magic Department professor?
Truly chest-thumpingly childish.
'Thought he'd ask for an intro to my backers or something. Just that?'
Not even human experiments—just a few orders.
'Even if he swore, he could just break it. Whatever.'
An honor-bound pact between them, but Lee Han had no honor to uphold anyway.
Not even oaths on knight orders mattered to him.
What counted was his life and his precious muscles, fretted over endlessly.
"Fine. But don't break the promise."
"I swear on a mage's honor!"
"Then I swear on Baltar Grace's name."
"...Using his name? Fine! Trustworthy enough."
Snap!
And so the sucker mage grinned like his plan had already succeeded.
Oblivious to the knight who valued Baltar's name less than dog food.
"-Some of you may have already heard, but you will face off against the mage cadets in one month."
"What's the format?"
"[War Game]."
"...The mages put their heads together."
"Kunta, you don't know what that is?"
"Simply put, it's a simulated war."
"?"
"Like this..."
War Game.
Originally a game of rolling dice, devising strategies, and moving pieces on a large map for simulated battles.
But nowadays, the meaning had shifted.
Nobles evolved it into 'real war environments' for greater thrills.
Gacha—no...
A money-burning spectacle.
Buy a forest or abandoned plain, hire mercenaries or retired soldiers to fight it out, and nobles spectate.
Like auto-battle phone games from his past life, but nobles made it vicious with cash.
Watching others wage war for fun.
No greater scum.
"...Feels like playing with lives."
Kunta's honest sentiment.
Arno nodded in understanding.
But.
"Not without merit. For knights, soldiers, mercenaries—those who live by the sword—it's quite beneficial."
"How so?"
"Easy to gain real combat experience and indirect war exposure. With minimal death risk."
"Possible?"
"Kingdom rules enforce it. Break them, and you anger the royals—few fools ignore that."
"Ah..."
Kunta finally got it.
A proxy war with low life risk let you experience combat and warfare—priceless.
Especially for barbarians, where half died in every fight.
"That's why some mercenaries specialize in War Games. Right, merc?"
"Yep. Good money. Fights break out over gigs in our line, heh."
Hated as noble entertainment, but with shrinking jobs, it was decent pay for mercenaries.
Low risk of death or limb loss too.
With Garand's notarization, even clueless sprouts sighed in relief.
......However.
"Kunta, one more thing. Arno said the spellcasters 'used their heads.' What does that mean?"
"Oh, that? Simple. Mages have the highest win rate in War Games."
"...Huh?"
......Everyone gaped at his words.
"Wars boil down to firepower. Not individual strength—devastating strikes are more efficient, subduing foes fast. Magic dominates there. ...Though an instructor like you could probably solo that firepower."
Eyes flicked to Lee Han.
True, that guy could breach a castle solo in a siege.
But conversely...
"...So we're at a massive disadvantage?"
"N-No way...!"
"I-Is this okay?!"
Unease spread.
Sprouts panicked most, chicks looked grim.
The young masters stayed composed but clearly hadn't expected War Game format—headaches evident.
Having watched them since childhood, they knew mage firepower's terror.
Still, they wouldn't yield—knights were battlefield stars.
No matter the firepower, nothing matched a knight's breakthrough and valor.
And as cadets, they lived to become knights.
So even in a lopsided War Game, they believed they could win...
"-Oh, by the way, young masters—you won't fight. Only the sprouts will."
-!!!?
This time, silent shock hit all cadets as they stared at their instructor, sharing one thought.
......Psycho.
Whatever they thought, Lee Han was dead serious.
"You chose this."
You said you'd fight spellcasters.
Declared you'd win.
So prove it.
"Unfair? No Fighting Technique? Don't worry—one month left."
One month—short, but plenty of time.
Some lose 20kg in a month; others train to run a full 42.195km marathon.
Enough for transformation, even upheaval.
"If you listen to me."
The cadets couldn't see it, but a hat poked from Lee Han's back pocket, boldly asserting itself.
The black octagonal cap.
Just a plain black one, yet it exuded an ominous aura.