Sorting the Hierarchy
"Do I look like a monster to you, Professor?"
I wondered if this was one of those situations where I should push back hard, but it made sense, so I just calmly asked again.
Only then did Professor Sword clear his throat awkwardly and release his grip on my collar.
"Kekeke... honey... a monster..."
Next to me, Kara was clutching her belly, pressing her mouth shut to stifle her laughter, her shoulders shaking. Even Kairun turned his head away, his lips twitching.
"Ahem! Ahem! Oh, misunderstanding. Your build is just so... imposing, I thought you were a combat training dummy. A fine warrior's physique, just like a Northener should have."
With the misunderstanding cleared up, Professor Sword regained his usual cheeky, informal demeanor and started reasserting control.
"Anyway! You noble young masters and ladies must have gotten butt cramps sitting through that boring number game from Professor Mess on your first day, right?"
It was a blatant diss at Professor Mess, but the students—true noble heirs who knew their honor—responded in perfect, rehearsed unison.
"No, sir!"
Professor Sword clicked his tongue.
"Tch, kids these days are no fun, already hiding their true feelings behind polite facades. Anyway, the first practical class has to be fun and intense. Unlike those pen-pushers, in the training grounds, we establish the pecking order based on real skill right from the start—that's what makes the rest of the lessons exciting."
Professor Sword drew the wooden sword from his belt and slashed the air.
Shiiik—!
It was just a simple swing, but it revealed the skill that had earned him a professor's post at the academy after a lifetime of scars.
"Alright! Enough chit-chat! Anyone confident in their sword skills, step forward! One rep per faction—come on out and let's sort the hierarchy!"
The students hesitated, exchanging glances at the professor's rough talk and sudden duel announcement. In noble society, jumping in recklessly and losing could bring shame to your house, so they started their game of chicken, waiting for someone else to take the lead.
But not me.
Especially not when I was starving and wanted this class over as fast as possible.
Thud.
No sooner had the professor's words landed than I strode forward. My presence cowed the other students; they gaped and parted like the sea.
Professor Sword had called out boldly, but when a real bear of a man charged out without hesitation, even he looked flustered.
"Uh... yeah. As expected, when you step up like that, the others get scared and no one..."
But the professor's words cut off.
From behind my broad back came neat, measured footsteps. Kairun's.
True to form as the Northgard second son and top enrollee, he walked out with unwavering eyes and took position to my right.
Then Kara casually turned her hips and stepped up to my left, lining up beside me.
"Huh? Do I have to go too?"
Only Elysia dithered behind us, but the North's core trio had already claimed the center of the training grounds.
Professor Sword stared blankly at us for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha! Ho! The North steps up first and bold! Good, I like it. Northgard young master, faction rep initiative: +3 points!"
And just like that, the training grounds flipped.
"Professor! That's unfair!"
"Right! They must've planned it together! That brute went first and made the atmosphere intimidating!"
Students from the other factions grumbled in protest. Having already tasted the agony of deductions and points in the previous class, they were hypersensitive to scoring.
But Professor Sword just snorted.
"Shut it! On the battlefield, do you whine to the enemy about bad timing or accuse them of collusion?! A knight draws his sword without hesitation, anytime, anywhere! Latecomers get no points!"
Thanks to me and Kara jumping in right at the start of afternoon class, Kairun secured points for the North faction. The corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly.
With the situation like this, the other factions—having stupidly missed their chance—sent out their aces one by one, pride on the line. It wasn't just about points; backing down now would brand them as cowards who fled the North's momentum.
Finally, the academy freshmen sword prodigies gathered in the center for their first face-off.
The South faction's Terna Godi, prince of Terdia Kingdom, sauntered out first. Tanned golden skin, blond hair swept back, training uniform collar loosely open. He reeked of someone who'd rather hit a social party tonight than sweat in sword class.
True to his canon self, he never picked fights. Terna yawned lazily as he stood before Professor Sword.
"Yaaawn... Isn't this a bit too intense for day one, Professor?"
"South, poor attitude: -2 points!"
An instant penalty bomb dropped. But Terna shrugged it off with his trademark easygoing grin, utterly unfazed.
"Oh, you heard that, Professor? Well, starting in the negatives isn't so bad."
Just like in the original, pulling popularity with the South's laid-back vibe and flexible swordplay.
Next, the West: Rainer, who hadn't even met my eyes all morning out of fear. Pushed forward by his peers, he dragged himself to center. But as the eldest son of the storied Roeder marquisate, once he gripped his wooden sword, his shaky gaze sharpened.
Of course, he still avoided looking my way, fixing his eyes off to the diagonal.
Last, the East: Violetta Cheriot, daughter of the Cheriot duke. She walked out expressionlessly, elegantly removing her nose-perched glasses and handing them to a female classmate acting as her attendant. She tied back her long straight hair tightly and addressed Professor Sword crisply.
"Professor. I object to this meaningless hierarchy sorting."
"Oh ho? Cocky little chick. Object, you say?"
Violetta pointed at me.
"The skill gap is obvious to the naked eye. Do we really need to cross swords? I believe fights where the outcome is predetermined before it starts are irrational and should be avoided."
From the East's perspective—prioritizing intellect and magic swordplay—she clearly didn't want to waste time on someone the math already solved.
Professor Sword stroked his chin beard at Violetta's complaint, then grinned and shouted.
"East: +2 points."
"Pardon? Why points?"
Violetta, who had braced for a penalty, furrowed her brow.
"That was blatant insubordination. Why not a deduction?"
Professor Sword shrugged it off.
"'Cause I feel like it?"
"......Pardon?"
"Better a bold chick who steps up and says her piece than cowards lurking in the back, peeking at everyone else."
Same logic as the bonus he'd given Kairun and Kara for jumping in first. Professor Sword valued proactive types who spoke and acted over cautious fence-sitters.
He nodded and pointed right at me.
"Your point's valid, so I'll allow it. Ah, Barg. You're out. You're the exception."
"......Pardon?"
Blindsided by the sudden benching, I blurted back. Was I too big and getting banned from duels? They fed me less, too. Real discrimination?
"Professor, excusing me for weight class differences is unfair..."
"No, no, not that."
Professor Sword flashed a sly grin.
"You're too oversized for these freshman chicks. You got real combat experience, right?"
"True, but Kara does too..."
"She looks like she can hold back. You? Nah. You gonna snap their wrists?"
The professor patted the hilt of his sword at his waist and declared.
"I need you as my demo dummy. Step out of the student factions and join the instructors over there. Today, you and I are gonna sweat it out for real."
Demo dummy? Using me as a teaching aid?
Wait... is this a sweet gig?
No childish scrapping with the kids—could be easy. But...
That grin on Professor Sword's face. Judging by his canon no-holds-barred personality...
Shit, this'll be the hardest...That guy's not gonna go easy...
"......"
Just like that, I got forcibly slotted as the sword professor's exclusive demo and awkwardly joined the instructor huddle, feeling out of place. They shot me pitying looks: Poor guy, caught the prof's eye on day one.
They'd clearly been through the same.
Anyway, with the ecosystem-disrupting freak me out of center, tension crackled in the air to fill the void.
Kairun, Terna, Rainer, Violetta. And Kara, smiling leisurely.
The top reps from each freshman faction were set for the real hierarchy sort.
Hurry up and end it... so we can eat...
I stood blankly among the instructors, soothing my rumbling gut, ready to spectate.
And...
Kara's gonna win anyway.
Deep down, I swallowed my wifely bias.
Professor Sword scanned the remaining students with gleaming eyes.
Five faction reps stood in the training grounds center now.
South's Prince Terna Godi.
West's Rainer Roeder.
East's Lady Violetta Cheriot.
And... Kairun and our Kara still repping the North.
"North faction's holding both spots to the end? And so boldly."
Students from other factions, used to noble infighting, had picked proxies to avoid offending reps or risking personal shame.
But the North was different. Kairun was sacred blood of the Northgard grand ducal line; Kara was daughter of the Winterclaw chief beyond the northern wall, a warrior born. Neither knew the concept of yielding.
"Alright, that creates a problem."
Professor Sword tapped the hilt of his wooden sword with a finger.
"Faction showdowns are tournaments between reps. But two from North messes up the bracket. So..."
His one good eye flashed.
"You two fight first. Preliminary to pick the single North rep."
The grounds buzzed at his words.
They're gonna tire each other out!
Whoever wins, it benefits us.
Shallow thoughts showed on their faces.
Shff.
Kairun drew his training wooden sword first. He held it low at a slant, feet shoulder-width, center of gravity sunk—textbook Imperial knight stance, flawless.
Kara's response was total opposite. She picked up her wooden sword like a light twig and slung it casually over her shoulder. No formal stance or form. Just standing bow-legged like she was off for a neighborhood stroll.
But my eyes, trained sparring her since childhood, saw it. The explosive tension coiled in that looseness. She could launch any second and take Kairun's head.
They gripped weapons silently, facing off in duel stance.
As suffocating tension began to coil...
"Hey, hold up. Stop."
Professor Sword, who'd watched with interest, suddenly waved them off like it was a hassle.
"Why aren't you two objecting?"
"Pardon?"
"Is there something to object to?"
Kairun and Kara tilted their heads in unison.
Professor Sword planted hands on hips, incredulous.
"Think about it. You two beat each other up here and burn energy, then face those fresh guys next? You'll be at a disadvantage. Normally, you'd protest: 'Unfair, Professor! Prelims mess with stamina management!'"
A rational point any noble scion would've milked.
Even top talents tire after going all-out against peers.
But.
"Ah."
Kairun and Kara glanced at each other.
Then shrugged in sync, opening mouths indifferently.
"Doesn't matter."
"Whoever comes up..."
"We'll win anyway."
Kara seamlessly finished Kairun's line with a smirk.
"......"
The North's signature overbrimming confidence and cockiness rang out unchecked across the grounds, shattering the other reps' petty relief and trampling their pride.