Chapter 11
Chapter 11
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Eve of the Storm #03
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"They told you to fight in the 1st Arena?"
I nearly choked on the dumpling I was eating. I chugged the cherry ade Shaomei had prepared and barely managed to swallow it down.
"Yeah, the Student Council asked me to pass the message along."
"Why you of all people... Never mind. Who can figure out what that guy's thinking?"
It was ridiculous to even ask Jorba for a reason. The Student Council President had always been the type to do that sort of thing.
In the original story, that very same president had pulled every trick in the book just to recruit the protagonist because he piqued his interest. This time, I was the one catching that gaze.
"You sound like you know the Student Council President pretty well, Arthin."
"How would I know him? I've just heard the rumors."
"... Ah, right. Rumors."
..? What was with his reaction?
I gave Jorba a puzzled look, and he flashed me his usual polished smile. Was the kid going through puberty or something?
"Well, the 1st Arena... It's not like I can't do it, but if I refuse this too, I'll really end up on their bad side."
In the proper storyline, the protagonist would get into a spat with some arrogant extra noble with a massive sense of elitism next week or the week after, things would escalate, and they'd end up dueling in the 1st Arena.
Drawing attention early was a bit burdensome, but there'd be plenty of opportunities and connections to gain from it too.
"Shaomei, all done eating, so shall we get back to sparring?"
"Ooh! Ready when you are, Big Brother!"
I polished off the last dumpling, clearing all ten plates Shaomei had brought.
Jorba stared down at me with a look of utter disgust.
"You're gonna train right after scarfing all that down? Even the kingdom's warriors wouldn't do that."
I don't wanna do this crap either, man. I'm only pushing through because it's all part of my training.
Plus, he was wrong. The one who taught me this barbaric method of eating, training, and supplementing with elixirs and mana was my master from the previous regression.
'Once this is over, maybe I should go pay him a visit.'
He was always grumbling about how boring the academy was, so he'd probably be hanging around the Student Council. Easy to meet up with.
"So, how intense should I go today?"
Shaomei looked up from clearing the dishes as she prepped for sparring.
Those bright, sparkling eyes of hers were adorable, but they turned downright intimidating once training started.
"We just ate, so let's keep it light. First to touch the body defenselessly wins a round—best of a hundred."
"... Touch the body and win a round? Is that even training?"
I wagged my finger at Jorba's question.
"Think about it, Jorba. Who's the one I'm up against this time?"
"Sion Idris, of course. A swordswoman from the empire's knights."
No need to say more—Jorba nodded as if he got it, answering my question.
Sion Idris's main weapon was a rapier, and true to imperial swordsmanship, it was augmented by mana output. One hit, and I'd be skewered in no time.
Even without mana, considering how she'd been a Death Knight before, her human specs might not match that, but they were still way beyond what I could endure.
I explained that much, and Jorba gave me a dubious look.
"So in the end, you can't even compete with her to begin with, right, Arthin? She outclasses you in skill, specs, experience—everything."
"Yeah, if we're talking normal circumstances... But we've got an even stronger martial artist right here, don't we?"
I said it while gently stroking Shaomei's head. She nuzzled into my hand like a cat. Cute kid.
"That's why we're getting used to Shaomei's speed."
"... Getting used to her speed? Not sure I follow."
"Exactly what it sounds like. My dynamic vision can't keep up, so we're drilling the sensation of incoming attacks and how to react right into my body. Only I could pull this off."
...Naturally, Jorba's face screamed "What nonsense is this?"
This was a method only a tiny fraction of geniuses would even attempt. Average starters couldn't dream of it.
'I'm just pounding in experience to make up for my lacking talent.'
Blah blah blah, talk was cheap—better to just show him. I cut the chatter, stepped away from Shaomei lightly, and assumed my stance.
"No point explaining more; it'll just hurt my throat. Watch and learn, Jorba! Let's go, Shaomei!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The absurd scene unfolding before his eyes only deepened Jorba's growing suspicions—he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.
'Only I could pull this off?'
He couldn't agree with that at all.
Never mind the fact that this bold talk didn't suit the dejected Arthin he'd seen just moments ago.
'No way this is possible. Especially not for the Arthin I know.'
They'd said it'd be light before the spar, but having seen Shaomei fight seriously a few times, Jorba knew her flurries weren't gentle.
The whoosh of her fist slicing toward Arthin's body made his ears ring.
Forget himself—how many gold-class freshmen could even block a punch like that? The Republican Federation's praise as their top martial talent wasn't empty.
But Lin Shaomei being strong was a given. What made Jorba Pelkas doubt his own eyes was Arthin's response—after less than two weeks as a martial artist.
Paang!!!
Again and again, he deflected Shaomei's fists with mana-wrapped palms, flowing them aside. His rippling motions had no hesitation or wasted movement.
Arthin's arms bent like waves, countering speed and power purely with fluidity. When Shaomei drove in deep with her stance to break his guard, he'd lightly tap her knee in rhythm, disrupting her rapid chain instead.
Arthin's gaze didn't frantically track Shaomei's every move. From his solid base, he seemed to predict her subtle shifts—eyes locked on hers, he blocked even blind-side ambushes before they gained power.
If Jorba hadn't known better, he'd swear it was a grandmaster elder sparring lightly with a prodigy child. Or maybe a perfectly choreographed demo match at a martial arts dojo.
'Shaomei, how do you expect me to believe this after seeing it?'
As a merchant hailed as a genius, with his extraordinary mind, Jorba couldn't accept this scene—like a child's fantasy brought to life.
'Shaomei, how can you just smile at this Arthin?'
Arthin was on the defensive, but holding his own evenly. You'd expect curiosity or competitive fire from a genius like her.
Yet Shaomei simply smiled, as if enjoying it all, quietly guiding Arthin toward the realm he aimed for like a faithful mentor.
It even crossed Jorba's mind—maybe Arthin wasn't the one who'd made a deal with a demon or fiend. Maybe it was Shaomei.
But since she'd been with him right up until they arrived at the academy, that suspicion didn't last long.
Pang!
In that instant, Shaomei's fist slammed true into Arthin's abdomen. Everyone but him thought she'd misjudged her power.
"Urk... That's thirty? How'd I only win two rounds while taking thirty hits?"
But in that split second, he'd flowed with the force—ignoring everyone's expectations, he stood right back up unharmed.
"Ooh... You felt that a lot! On the first day, you couldn't even win one, but now I can tell my brainless swings aren't landing as easy!"
Hearing their exchange, Jorba suddenly felt it all was pointless. Were his worries and doubts really worth anything?
'Guess I need some healing.'
Feeling his brain overload, Jorba decided to soothe his mind with one of the many women he'd befriended at the academy. Leaving the two starting their 33rd round behind, he slipped out of the training room.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Hey, that troublemaking freshman is dueling a count's son in the arena now?"
"What? They suspended him to keep him quiet, and he's stirring up trouble again?"
Violet perked up her ears at the classmates' chatter, eavesdropping as she prepped for the next class.
"Someone from the Student Council told me—they even told him to call off the duel, but he refused! So they're providing the 1st Arena to make an example of him."
"Isn't that freshman totally nuts? Guy's got like three guts or something."
"Plus, his opponent's sending an imperial knight escort. Kid's gonna die in the arena."
Crunch!
Violet realized her gripped fist had snapped her pen and sank into sudden self-loathing.
She despised people swayed by rumors most of all, yet here she was, eavesdropping like a rat.
'Why does that guy keep popping into my head? It's driving me insane how much I care!'
Thud! Her forehead hit the desk. The two she'd been listening to whipped around in surprise, only to meet her glare—forehead red—as if asking what they were staring at.
They spun away hastily, and Violet sighed deeply, annoyed at her own pettiness. What the hell am I doing?
"I've got enough on my plate with studies... Just tune him out..."
Enrolled as the granddaughter of Grand Witch Valburg, she had to top the written exams just to scrape by, or that's what everyone would say. Even as a prodigy, to claim first at the academy, Violet needed to study harder than ever.
"... This sucks."
Burying her face in the textbook, the words wouldn't stick, leaving her with a hollow ache. Before enrolling, she'd dreamed of fun school days, but three weeks into the semester, she hadn't made a single decent friend.
So inevitably, her mind wandered from studies to the name that had lingered in her head all week: Arthin Ludwig.
"Still, it's weird."
Hearing he'd fight a knight, she'd thought it was idiotic, but oddly, she couldn't picture Arthin Ludwig losing.
For some reason, it felt as certain as the sun rising in the east and setting west, or apples falling down—as if that boy's victory was simply natural.
'He's obviously gonna lose, so why do I think he'll win?'
She muttered to herself about what she was thinking and peeked at the textbook again, but unable to focus, she despaired and botched the rest of her prep until the next class.
If Violet had been in her right mind, she might've noticed she wasn't the only one eavesdropping.
Because right beside her, a black-haired handsome guy was nodding along to a brown-haired beauty's words while zeroing in on the name "Arthin."
"Really~ Kaiyen, are you even listening to me?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I am."
Ignoring the girl's complaint about his lack of attention, Kaiyen Silversword pictured the boy named Arthin Ludwig. Just like he did with any other boy his heroines encountered—flashing a smile.