Class
Class
"Sheryl. Your turn."
At the sight of Eldmia calling her name so naturally, the students felt a shock even greater than what they had experienced during the sparring match Griwills had just demonstrated, and their eyes darted back and forth between the two.
Everyone knew that Eldmia had stayed at the Ogatorf household, but that had been strictly a butler-and-master relationship. As a teaching assistant, not even a professor, they had naturally assumed he would use honorifics. Given that they were noble and commoner in the first place, even with the academy's unwritten rules, no one had imagined he would address her so casually.
But as always, Sheryl maintained her usual state of minimal emotional change as she stepped up to the sparring ground. The students couldn't tell whether she found such an address natural, or whether she was hiding her embarrassment behind her characteristic poker face.
"Have your skills improved at all?"
"Of course."
By now, no one doubted Eldmia's ability. The students instead harbored a different expectation.
How much of Eldmia's true skill could Sheryl draw out? Eldmia, who remained perfectly composed despite having sparred continuously for over an hour, stroked his chin for a moment before continuing.
"Come to think of it, the professor did say something. That he hoped I would face you using every means at my disposal."
At the remark that seemed to imply he hadn't used all the tools in his arsenal up until now, questions began to swirl among the students.
This was a man who had dismantled a mage's high-speed casting and anti-knight movement-restriction magic alike, cutting them down helplessly. A man who had dodged the thrown concealed weapons some students had hurled during close-quarters combat as if they were nothing—and he still had weapons hidden away? Ah, but since he was Professor Regneva's disciple, could he use magic after all?
Eldmia smiled for the first time as he spoke.
"Laika, come here."
And at that call, the dog that had been cleverly flipping the hourglass until now came bounding over to Eldmia's feet, panting. Half the students looked utterly dumbfounded, while the other half began staring at Eldmia as if he were the most heinous animal abuser the world had ever seen, but he paid them no mind as he gestured to Griwills.
"Griwills. You flip the hourglass this time."
"Ah, yes..."
Even Griwills looked at Laika with an expression of sheer disbelief, but what could he do? Orders were orders. As Griwills took hold of the hourglass, Sheryl, who had been locking eyes with the bright-eyed Laika under that peculiar gaze, heard the sound of a whistle by her ear. Sheryl, who had assumed Eldmia was simply trying to draw her attention, shifted her gaze to him—and frowned at the strange object spinning and flying around Eldmia.
"...What is that now?"
Glancing at the object that looked like a twisted knitting needle, Eldmia answered, still smiling.
"The means at my disposal. Laika, pressure her just enough not to injure."
The dog understood that command? Sheryl's doubt vanished along with the sound of Griwills flipping the hourglass.
As if the short whistle blast were a signal, Laika and the sinister needle lunged at Sheryl simultaneously.
"You cheap bastard!"
"Think of it like a spirit. That makes it not cheap, right?"
She thought he had a point, but this time she couldn't keep the words in. Not because of Eldmia's viciousness in holding a cute dog hostage, but because that gentle-looking dog had charged at a speed no ordinary dog could ever produce. Quickly grasping that the projectile and Laika were not moving at the same speed, Sheryl waited until the last perilous instant, batted the needle away like lightning, then whipped her sword toward Laika as if ricocheting.
"Don't blame me if you get hurt!"
"Woof!"
It was no ordinary dog. Even as she was certain of that, a slight hesitation crept into her sword swing. But in the end, beasts feared pain. The blade she had swung with precision, aiming to avoid a fatal wound and ready to recover instantly if the dog backed off, produced unexpected resistance and noise.
-Clang!
"Huh?"
The moment her blade touched the soft brown fur of the dog she had even held in her arms and stroked, an impossible metallic sound rang out. And Laika, utterly unfazed by her sword strike, attempted a body slam that threw Sheryl's stance into disarray—just as Eldmia rushed at her.
"I do this because I can handle it, you know?"
Sheryl barely blocked the sword swung at her along with that oddly mirthful voice and retreated far back, but Eldmia gave her no opening.
-Fweet!
A whistle. The scene from moments ago flashed through Sheryl's mind as she reflexively tried to look at Laika.
Laika had reacted to the whistle slightly late. Rather, the thing that had moved at the same moment as the whistle was the needle...
-TING!
"This is insane!"
In the split second she spent deflecting the barely visible needle flying at her, Laika targeted her legs, and Eldmia's sword swung to utterly collapse her already broken stance. Literally a dizzying experience, and Sheryl gritted her teeth. She had faced mages and spirit mages before, but this was on an entirely different level!
"Of course it should be."
What was most infuriating was that Eldmia was still smiling. Smiling as if he were playing a prank on her, yet every single sword strike was ferocious to the extreme. She had tried once on a gamble to blend her blade and deflect his attack, but he simply pushed through, and she only ended up being driven further back.
This was the greatest difficulty in facing Eldmia. Setting swordsmanship aside, deflecting his swung blade in the first place was no easy feat.
Just as Griwills had been sent reeling even after launching his own attack, Eldmia's sword did not waver easily. Just how brutally had he trained? She knew that if she blocked, the next attack would inevitably follow, so she desperately wanted to deflect it to the side and seek a counterattack—but it was always futile, like water poured onto a boulder.
That alone was troublesome enough, and now there was a dog and a throwing weapon flying around of its own accord. And soon he would even learn magic on top of it?
-Fweet!
She turned her gaze to the position she had grasped in advance in response to the whistle, but the needle merely floated idly in the air. Then what in the world...
"I never said I only had one of those."
When she turned her head in response to that unbearably infuriating voice, even weighted with composure as it was, there were more needles spinning around Eldmia.
"...How many do you have?"
"Who knows?"
She felt her strength draining away. When just catching up in swordsmanship alone was already overwhelming, she could only think this was truly unfair. How long would it take to overcome all of that and defeat Eldmia? Five years probably wouldn't be enough.
"For reference, when I fought Siegfried, I had neither Laika nor this."
"Who's Siegfried?"
At Sheryl's reflexively blurted question, Eldmia relaxed his stance for a moment and laughed. That alone was enough for Sheryl to know that whatever came out of his mouth next, she would deeply dislike it...
"The Hero."
...and indeed, that was exactly the case.
◈
In the end, Sheryl endured for three minutes without being knocked down even once.
It was what you'd expect from the top-ranked student of her year, one might say. Even with her face full of dissatisfaction, she had quickly grasped the needles' simple linear patterns, focused her response solely on the great needle and Laika, got a feel for it, and adapted in an instant, swinging her sword. Near the end, she had even mimicked a horizontal slash with one hand gripping the pommel, something I'd only shown a few times, and caught me completely off guard—anyone watching would've been stunned. The adaptability was so absurd it made me wonder if this was what the sense of a genius looked like.
Honestly, I had planned to pressure her just enough to make her feel wronged and tease her for it, but it wasn't easy at all. If Laika hadn't launched a desperate full-body tackle at the end and forced a ring-out, she would've passed the three-minute mark, but no way. I'm a man who keeps his word.
"Excellent."
Professor Rübis, who had watched everything without a single word, gave an assessment that was truly concise but definitive. Smiling with satisfaction, he explained the students' flawed habits and areas needing improvement in my stead—since fighting was all I could do—and wrapped up the lesson.
"If you get too drunk on your own excellence, your ear may well be cut off. Never forget that there is always someone above. I will be conducting classes for the other years in the same manner, so if you are interested, you are welcome to observe."
Whether it was because the nuance alone was understandable enough, or because it was a saying he always had on his lips, not a single student looked puzzled by the elven proverb.
After class ended like that, I had to frantically dodge Sheryl, who pounced on me as if it were only natural, aiming kicks at my shins.
"Whoa there. You're trying to beat up your teaching assistant just because you lost a sparring match? That's an abuse of status."
"Don't talk nonsense! What's with that weird needle, and what exactly is Laika?! Why am I the only one struggling?!"
"It's about time you started handling things beyond swordsmanship. Besides, you think it would've been easy if it were just swordsmanship? Your head may be smart, but your body's still plenty stupid, you know?"
With Laika bouncing around and wedging into the space between us as if our attacks and dodges were all a game, there was a limit to how much I could keep evading. Eventually I had to find an opening, shift Sheryl into a longcat hold, and stand there holding her at arm's length for a good while before her anger finally subsided.
"I keep telling you, this is all for your long-term benefit. Would it be acceptable for someone of the Ogatorf family to be falsely accused of receiving inflated evaluations through connections?"
"Even without you, I'm already receiving plenty of high praise."
It wasn't exactly wrong, but admitting it would've meant losing, so I diligently denied her assertion. If I'd said I just wanted to see her feeling wronged, the aftermath would've been unmanageable, that much was obvious.
"Ah, Sheryl? Have you heard anything about the Holy Light Cross Order's headquarters?"
"All of a sudden?"
"I'd meant to ask but forgot about it."
It was a question I'd thrown out hoping that being at the academy meant she'd know this and that gossip. Detailed stories about major events like a religious order purge took a long time to circulate among the general public, after all. Sheryl, who had been huffing in her longcat Sheryl state, rolled her eyes for a moment in thought, then spoke as if something had just occurred to her.
"I heard that the Empire's Hero came on an expedition, joining hands with the faithful to purge demons that had infiltrated the Holy Light Cross Order. I even heard the city's in a sorry state because of it, but that news is already about a week old, so I don't know how things have progressed. Why do you ask?"
"I laid some bait for the Hero, so if he'd finished handling that business he'd definitely come to brag, but there's been no word at all."
"...?"
Well, if some serious problem had erupted, he would've contacted Esmue at least.
Recalling the old adage that no news is good news, I decided to focus on messing with Sheryl.