Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Duel
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After throwing my arm around her shoulder, Marianne and I sat in the waiting room, chatting idly back and forth.
Of course, everything Marianne was telling me was stuff I already knew, but since I couldn't exactly pretend otherwise, I just nodded along enthusiastically instead.
"Oh, you've read Knight Daimus's autobiography too?"
"Yeah. Even though he's from 400 years ago, I think his approach to martial arts and his attitude toward training are ahead of anyone else's."
"You know your stuff, huh? These days, kids think you just bulk up your muscles and expand your mana capacity to get strong."
She was only 19 herself, so calling others "kids these days" was kinda funny, but I nodded anyway.
If this world were a visual novel game, my system window would be going ding ding right now with notifications about her affection rising.
"But hey, why're you still using formal speech when I told you to call me sis like we're buddies?"
"Huh? Well... even so, how could I drop the honorifics with you on our first meeting, Your Highness?"
Marianne narrowed her eyes at my words, as if trying to show her displeasure.
Normally, a beauty like her doing that would look cute, but coming from Marianne, it felt like a lioness growling—enough to send chills down my spine.
"When I like someone enough to say call me sis, that's it—no take-backs. You gotta man up, drop the formalities, and go 'Yes, sis!' like that!"
Ugh, it was like hearing my old 33-year-old foreman Sang-chul from my grinding days at the factory. I nearly passed out.
This straightforward bluntness of hers was actually the biggest reason I'd gotten used to Shaomei's speech patterns.
If Shaomei was all cutesy "Big Brother!" vibes, Marianne honestly suited being a mercenary captain or crime boss way better.
'She'd probably chew me out no matter which way I went.'
Last regression, I'd dropped the formalities right away after hearing that, and got an earful for it.
From Marianne's perspective, she probably preferred the cautious respect like this.
"Then... Marianne sis?"
"That's right! Good boy. Call me that in private from now on!"
With that, Marianne started ruffling my hair like crazy.
My locks, which had been messed with for a good 20 minutes thanks to the crowd earlier, got even more disheveled, but I decided not to care.
'If I can get close to Marianne early, a buzz cut's nothing.'
Of course, I'd learned everything worth learning last time around, but she was still one of the top contenders for strongest among the main cast.
Plus, once she sees you as one of her own, the distance shrinks to zero—she'll do pretty much any favor you ask. Best in the biz.
"So, how do you plan to beat Sion?"
Marianne suddenly asked that while scanning me up and down.
"Your mana... it's a bit lacking, but even so, two circles at best? Your build's solid for a mage—been training lately?"
I hadn't even shown anything yet, but Marianne analyzed my full capabilities like she'd watched my entire training regimen.
Well, it made sense, in a way.
Marianne was already near-perfect in terms of combat prowess; she was the one teaching the kingdom's veteran warriors.
Just recalling the original story's description—that the academy could only teach her stuff like imperial studies, administration, astronomy, and astrology—made her position clear.
"What, got some amazing artifact hidden away? Or is the rumor true and you really contracted with a demon?"
"Contracted with a demon? What's that about?"
"Huh?"
"I mean... what're you talking about, sis?"
Only then did she flash a satisfied smile again.
Last regression, I'd kept up the formal "teacher" talk, so it still felt weird.
"Once word got out that you were boldly challenging Rexton's knight without fear, rumors flew that you'd contracted a demon and set this whole thing up to take him down."
What the hell? Seriously?
"Who'd publicly duel if they contracted a demon? Wouldn't it be quieter and easier to handle it on the sly?"
"That's why I came to check you out myself. To see if you're actually insane enough to contract a demon or just some gutsy lunatic with balls hanging out."
What's the difference between a lunatic and a madman, anyway?
"You didn't snag one of the Demon King's treasures, did you?"
"If I swung that around in public, the teachers would kill me on the spot, right?"
"Huh?"
"I mean... yeah? Sis?"
The Demon King's treasures were artifacts said to have been used before the Demon King was sealed.
Legends claimed that wielding even one could corrupt or kill even the greatest heroes.
For reference, in the original story, legion commanders and executives pulled them out one by one, so most of the Demon King's treasures had already been recovered and held by the Demon King's Army in this world.
Thanks to that, boss fights were pretty much "know it or die."
The protagonist had to sacrifice allies in every battle to take them down.
"Why would I have something like that? Even if I did, having a dangerous item like that would get me branded a heretic by the Northern Church—I couldn't use it anyway."
"Okay, then how do you plan to win?"
"You said yourself you think I'll win, sis."
"Feeling it and hearing the plan are different! I'm curious!"
Marianne grabbed my shoulders, shaking me back and forth in frustration, urging an answer.
I got where she was coming from. Academy duels weren't the safe, padded kind we might imagine.
For starters, they allowed all techniques and gear, including artifacts—real swords included, naturally. They didn't stop unless you surrendered or were incapacitated. No fouls except attacking someone out of bounds or after surrender. Vital strikes? Necromancy? Poison? All fair game unless banned beforehand.
Just reading the rules sounded like some back-alley underground fight club, but this was the standard official format. All for the academy's founding ideal: forging talents to defeat the Demon King's Army through brutal realism.
Honestly, no sane person would duel like this—especially with such a skill gap. That's why Marianne was so curious.
Beep—beep—
The magic stone prep light on the waiting room wall started flashing. Duel time.
"Whoops? I was about to tell you, but time's up! Oh well, sis."
"Fine, I'm not asking 'cause it's cheating anyway."
Realizing I had no intention of spilling from my poker face, Marianne grumbled as she stood.
"...You really won't tell me?"
"Sis, you're getting ugly."
I shooed the clingy Marianne out just before the door closed, then pulled my prepared items from my bag.
No weapons—just gloves. No armor either, so I felt super light.
"Kinda feels less like a duel and more like heading out for a casual spar."
As I struck a pose in my getup, the door opened, and the student guidance senior who'd brought me earlier came in.
"All set? You're up next!"
"Yeah, got it."
"That's your whole outfit? You sure you're good?"
The guidance senior walking me down the hall eyed my light gear worriedly.
"Don't worry. All I have on my mind is winning."
With a smirk and that reply, I pushed open the door and climbed onto the stage.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Am I really an idiot...?"
Violet, seated in the arena's premium seats right by the stage, clutched her head and berated herself.
"I could've used this time for assignments and review—instead, why'd I line up at dawn to watch this?!"
Violet kept self-flagellating but didn't budge from her seat. Deep down, she figured watching the match would help her more.
These past few days, she'd been tormented by worries about Arthin and deja vu headaches, finally admitting something was wrong. Clinic checks dismissed it as mere migraines, and self-tests for curses turned up no traces.
She'd even tried visiting his personal training room—thinking another meeting might reveal the source of that inexplicable familiarity—but every time she approached, an ominous dread forced her back to her room.
"What the heck was that unknown sensation? Not a barrier or anything... more primal..."
A killing intent–like feeling. As Violet muttered that, someone approached and sat beside her.
"Oh my, you came to watch after all, Violet sis?"
An unfamiliar voice she'd never heard before. Yet it carried the same deja vu she'd felt from Arthin earlier—and the same chilling dread that had driven her away.
Violet whipped her head around to see a woman with her usual bun hairstyle let down long, white and black strands shimmering together.
"...Wait, you're from Class B...?"
"You still don't remember me? Kinda hurtful. It's Shaomei."
Only then did it click for Violet. Lin Shaomei. Heir to the War God, Jorba Pelkas's bodyguard. And the girl who'd been hanging with Arthin lately.
Even Violet, sharp and observant, hadn't recognized her right away because the Shaomei she usually saw with Arthin or Pelkas looked nothing like this. Less bearish, more foxlike.
And though this was their first direct meeting, Shaomei treated her like an old acquaintance with a smiling eye-crinkling grin—but Violet felt only coldness in that smile.
"Remember you? Isn't this our first time meeting one-on-one?"
At Violet's probing tone, replaying if they'd met before, Shaomei turned toward the arena with a satisfied look.
"First time, but not really. Get it now?"
First but not first? Utter nonsense to Violet.
"D-did we exchange letters or something? Why act all chummy? You don't even seem happy to see me."
"Not happy? You have no idea how thrilled I am to see you, Violet sis. You're my third favorite after Young Master and Arthin big bro."
"You? Me? While showing all this hostility?"
Is she here to pick a fight? Violet started infusing irritation into her questions, but Shaomei shook her head and continued.
"Can't help it, right? When Violet sis keeps trying to get close to Arthin big bro, it's hard to hold back against a hyena eyeing my man."
What the—? Violet, listening, suddenly realized she felt something beyond annoyance at Shaomei calling Arthin her man. Disgust.
"I have no clue what you're talking about, so stop with your one-sided stories and explain properly."
"Mm... fine. I came here for a reason anyway."
As Shaomei met her eyes, Violet finally pinpointed the discomfort she'd felt from this woman.
"This time, I'm not yielding to anyone—not that musclehead princess, not the snooty airhead, not even you, Violet sis."
This woman was off. Her body was that of a girl just past puberty, but her soul felt tangled in countless experiences and memories—like a seasoned witch disguised as a child. Violet would buy it.
"Who the hell are you, really?"
As Shaomei opened her mouth to reply, the surrounding students erupted in cheers.
⚙ ANNOUNCEMENT ⚙ The duel between Arthin Ludwig and Rexton Wise will now begin. A calm announcer's voice rang out, and the duelists stepped into the arena. Even Violet found her gaze stolen by Arthin's entrance.
By the time Violet snapped back and looked to the side, Shaomei—who'd been there moments ago—was gone.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "What a fucking psycho."
Stepping onto the arena stage, I couldn't help but be stunned by Sion approaching from the opposite side.
More precisely, the pendant dangling from her chest was the problem.
"You're crossing the line, you bitch."
Rexton must've finally lost his mind.
Gazing at Sion's smile, radiating a chilling killing intent that reached even the spectator seats, I had no choice but to think so.
Because of that pendant Rexton prepared, blood was about to be spilled—one way or another.