Chapter 24
Chapter 24
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 24
>Chapter Title: The Saintess and the Woodcutter (2)
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*
Ivan slowly stepped toward the ring. Thud, thud. They were ordinary footsteps, yet their quietness had a way of drawing one’s gaze.
At first, the students’ impressions were simple. *This old guy knows how to set a mood.*
Even when Ivan drew the axe from his hip, the students thought little of it. After all, this was the Knight Academy.
Most students were stuck on the formula that the sword was the king of all weapons. And in most cases, they were right.
It was a weapon easy to carry, versatile, and well-suited for delicate techniques.
But the axe was simple. This was due to its center of gravity being concentrated in the head. Thus, the direction of an axe's attack was always unidirectional.
In other words, its trajectory was easy to read and intercept. That was why most of the students looked down on the axe.
“Enrique.”
Ivan stood still on the ring and spoke. His voice was heavy.
“Hm?”
“What are the limits?”
“Just don’t kill them. We have the Saintess here, anyway.”
Patricia, the Saintess of the Hero's Party, was currently serving as the head of the theology department at this university. That meant a trauma specialist superior to any healing potion was on standby at all times.
*Good.* Ivan nodded.
“Eriksson.”
“Just as I thought. Seeing you at this distance, I can still see that face from back then.”
“If I win, you’ll do volunteer work.”
“…What?”
This man was an intelligence agent for the Kingdom of Droan. On the surface, he was a freshman in the Knight Academy, and outwardly, he was Esidis’s personal bodyguard. But his true nature was that of a spy planted by Great King Einar.
In other words, he could, at any moment, join hands with the princess’s faction or the crown prince’s faction in the capacity of an ‘unofficial diplomat.’ This man was a variable.
Therefore, his movements needed to be tied down until Esidis’s path was decided. The easiest way was to keep him close.
In all the time he had to spare after school, outside of the hours he was required to guard Esidis.
“I’ll have you do laundry at the orphanage.”
Volunteer work is good for character development. This was an undeniable truth. Caring for orphans greatly helps in cultivating one’s character.
Therefore, this was a chance to teach ‘civilization’ to this Droan berserker huscarl.
“Nonsense.”
“Come.”
Ivan raised his axe. For the two warriors (average age: 40s, in a freshman practical class), no more words were needed.
*
When the two first clashed, the freshmen were somewhat bewildered. *What’s going on? Why are they so good?*
-CRASH—!!
Next, as the two axes sent sparks flying, the freshmen were astonished. *What the hell. How is he moving like that? Did anyone see that? No one?*
-CLAAAANG! KRRR-CRACK!!
Finally, when the strongest freshman (in his 40s) fell to his knees, gasping for breath, the students were able to get a proper look at the man still standing tall.
His two eyes shone a piercing blue, his face expressionless.
Despite such violent movements, his breathing was utterly calm, without the slightest tremor.
“Hah… Petrovich… As expected… Little Ivan. Hah…! Just what are you scheming here…?”
“Safety management.”
Ivan walked past the tattered Mord.
*Safety…? Management…?* A massive question mark once again appeared in the students' minds. *What was the ‘safety’ I’ve known until now…?*
“Next.”
“Uh… Professor, the scope of this test is too broad. It’s our first day…”
A young man who had flinched at Ivan’s words raised his hand and spoke. It was the same young nobleman who had mocked Ivan earlier.
Enrique grinned and nodded.
“The next one’s been decided. Come on, come on, no time to waste. Let’s get a move on.”
“Uh… uh uh…”
Since no one wanted to get on the ring, the young man was dragged onto it with the help of his kind classmates, breaking out in a cold sweat as he backed away.
“Come.”
Ivan raised his axe.
*
“Alright, if you can land just one scratch on our teaching assistant, I’ll give you an A+ on the spot. How about it? Hm? Or you know what… what the hell! You’ll even get a one-on-one lesson from the beautiful, active-duty instructor of the Hero's Party!”
Ivan didn't bother to point out the error in Enrique's last sentence. He was a sensible man.
Instead, he raised his axe. He was a man who took trainee education seriously.
“Next.”
After five corpses (not really) were cleared away, no one else would step onto the ring.
“Tsk! If you all give up like this, you’ll fail as a group! Hm? How about this. If you all get F’s and have to retake the course, next year’s class will start the same way. Better to get the beating over with sooner, right?”
Watching the beaming Enrique, the students grit their teeth.
*Fine. I can’t be sure, but… at least I won’t die.*
Succeed with just one attack, and a high grade was guaranteed.
This was a three-credit required major course. It was obvious that it would have a significant impact on their GPA, and besides, the students of the Knight Academy were fundamentally competitive.
Each of them had grown up being called a prodigy of martial arts or a genius of swordsmanship in their hometowns.
Just once.
Just one time!
Even after clearing away thirty corpses (not really), the freshmen did not give up.
"Next."
*
And finally, it was Yuri’s turn.
Yuri raised her sword, trembling. In all the time she had wielded a sword, the blade had never felt so heavy.
Upon the ring, where a thick killing intent swirled, over the bleakly blowing wind and the slick pools of blood on the floor.
She would muster the courage to take a step forward, only to shrink back again at the sight of the man before her.
Every time she saw his shabby work clothes and the old towel around his neck, something came to mind.
“Yuri Franck.”
“Y-ye! Yes! Sir?!”
Ivan stared silently into Yuri’s eyes. A sharp gaze that seemed to pick apart her mind pierced her vision.
Yuri’s pupils darted wildly from side to side. Her head spun, and her grip on the sword kept loosening.
“Top of the Knight Academy.”
“Sir!!”
“Lee Yuri?”
“…Hic?!”
“Kim Yuri? Park Yuri? Choi Yuri?”
“Wh-what? What do you… mean by that…?”
“In Krasilov, Yuri is a man’s name.”
“Yeees… I suppose? I have my reasons, so…”
“Come.”
Ivan raised his axe.
“We can listen to your reasons slowly.”
“No, no, no. I, I’d like to forfeit? Is, is that okay? A failing grade! I’ll just take the failing grade! Aaaahhh!!”
Before Yuri could drop her sword, Ivan’s body lunged forward.
Instinctively raising her sword to deflect the axe blade, Yuri desperately swallowed the scream that threatened to erupt.
*It’s coiling around me. Like a snake…!* The axe blade slithered up her sword, as if ready to bite into her neck at any moment!
-Clang!
She had already seen this attack style used on the previous students until they were beaten to a pulp. But even so, it was an assault one could never get used to.
Ivan’s axe seemed to have reached some kind of masterclass.
Each blow wasn't heavy. In that regard, Mord Eriksson’s had been more powerful. But it was fast. In the blink of an eye, she was already entangled in his strikes.
He was an expert in wielding the axe. Not just swinging it, but striking the blade, using centrifugal force to re-engage, bringing it down, and immediately driving it in diagonally.
-KRRRRR!!
He used the curve of the axe head to pull her sword in, twisting the handle to wrench the blade away. If she lost her grip from the shock, it was over.
Ivan looked down at the kneeling Yuri and nodded.
“You fight well.”
“Thank… you…”
“I will be watching. Next.”
Yuri staggered off the ring on weakened legs. Miraculously, she had no injuries, but that only reinforced the feeling that the monster had simply been holding back.
She looked at Ivan with a terrified expression, then squeezed her eyes shut.
*
*What the hell was that about Kim, Lee, Park, and Choi! A-a Korean? Is he Korean…?*
Lee Yuri was an illustrator.
The last project she had worked on was a commission for a debauchery-themed academy adult game.
It was called [Heejak 3].
It was the kind of game where you had to escape from a gardener who would find the students’ weaknesses and do… lewd… very spectacular things to them.
That gardener was a middle-aged man with a towel around his neck, wearing old work clothes.
And now, she had been dropped right into that goddamn world. Right after pulling an all-nighter to send in the first rough draft for the commission.
A world where a bearded gardener with an axe glares menacingly, greedily eyeing the female students (a misunderstanding).
*If I get caught… something very… spectacular will happen to me…!*
She shuddered, remembering what had happened to the ‘students’ whose weaknesses were exploited. The ‘gardener’ was watching her.
Worse, if he found out she was from the same country, a fellow transmigrator, he might use some means to blackmail her, changing the genre of her life.
She… was the protagonist… It made sense. An orphan, a full scholarship student, and a sword genius. How could an illustrator who had only ever drawn her whole life possibly be all that?
Of course, she had to be the protagonist…
She wanted to go home.
*
Isabelle lasted three moves, and Oskar lasted two exchanges.
In terms of ranking, it seemed to be Mord, Yuri, Isabelle, then Oskar. Setting aside Mord, who wasn't really a student, the hierarchy had been established right where he had expected.
*My eyes haven’t dulled yet.* Thinking this, Ivan nodded in satisfaction.
“Are you smiling right now?”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
“I think you were smiling.”
“I just have a naturally smiling face.”
“Pfft…! You crazy bastard…!”
At the voice from in front of him, Ivan had to compose his expression again. Beside him stood Enrique with his hands up, desperately suppressing a burst of laughter and hiccuping.
As a sensible man, Ivan did not react to his old master's antics.
While Yuri was terrified, Ivan and Enrique were getting an earful from the Saintess.
It was the price for sending fifty patients to the office of the Head of the Theology Department.
*