Hero

"I came here as an envoy of the Kingdom of Rudra! How dare you kill an envoy's attendant?!"

Gwilb was a far more formidable opponent than I had imagined. Even reduced to this state, he still raged with genuine fury and remained trapped in the belief that he was receiving unjust treatment.

Honestly, it was almost laughable. Though I could count on one hand the number of people I'd met over the past 15 years who could truly be called members of the ruling class, I'd never imagined I'd encounter such a complete fucking moron in the form of a third-country nobleman abroad.

But if he'd been invited by the Empire like Ragnis, wouldn't that mean he had something going for him? Why was he such a goddamn imbecile?

"I'll put you to death this instant!"

"Y-young master! You must restrain yourself! Since he killed Rag in a single blow, his skill is not ordinary!"

No, you crazy bastards. Shouldn't you have started thinking that way the moment I beat the Hero in a sparring match?

By this point, I was beginning to seriously wonder whether these people were simply idiots whose basic common sense worked on an entirely different level.

"Shut your mouth!"

Gwilb bellowed and drew his sword.

"Even when I gave you the chance to atone for your insolence with death, you instead killed my attendant! I cannot believe such dishonor exists in this world! I will kill you with my own hands!"

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠swear without a lie, in this moment alone, this motherfucker was the Hero. When words don't get through, is this what it means to have no confidence you can win through logic?

That pile of shit... was a noble of Rudra?

"O flame!"

I saw his drawn sword and the ring on his finger begin to glow in resonance, slowly converting Magic Power into Mana.

Glowing? Maybe that was just how my senses interpreted it, and there was actually nothing unusual.

What was certain was that the ring was absorbing Magic Power, so what he'd just shouted was an activation word, and the magic itself was triggered by the interaction between the ring and the sword.

I didn't know if this guy was the noble average for the country called Rudra or above average, but at the very least, his declaration that he'd kill me right now seemed genuine, regardless of its feasibility. Still, if he was that confident, did that mean he was at minimum stronger than the attendant from just now? Or was he relying entirely on that equipment and charging in with arrogant abandon?

"Strong Body!"

I stared blankly as another ring flashed and this time acted upon the bastard's physical body, but even as I pondered, I couldn't figure it out.

At first, I'd wondered if the purpose was to gather young talents from each nation under the same pretext as Ragnis and form a Hero party, but seeing a guy like this, whose personality clearly hadn't been considered at all, show up in one shot, that hypothesis felt increasingly unlikely.

"Muscle Strengthening! Endurance Enhancement! Eye Strengthening!"

While I was having such thoughts, the bastard was diligently shouting in a clear voice and using the power of his rings.

Naturally, I could have killed him about seven times during that span, but if I'm going to send a so-called nobleman up to the heavens, shouldn't I make the most of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it and send him off with substance? I had to kill him after putting on maximum showmanship so no other bullshit would come up later.

If anything, I was even feeling a bit of minor entertainment from this idiotically novel combat preparation, the likes of which I'd never seen in this life. The duel had already begun the moment he drew his sword, so I could have rushed in and cut him down right then and he wouldn't have been able to make a peep of protest, yet the bastard was going about it as if it was only natural for me to wait through all his preparations, without even the slightest impatience.

But then, it was precisely because he thought like that that he could commit such atrocities and still turn the blame around and browbeat me instead.

"Magic Barrier! Physical Barrier!"

Fuck, but amusement aside, this was taking way too long. If only he hadn't declared the duel, I could've thrown out a sarcastic remark each time he activated one just to pass the time, but not being able to do so was truly my eternal regret.

The bastard only took his first step in the duel after applying equipment enhancement and Magic Power enhancement on top of everything else, brimming with confidence.

"Uncivilized wretch. Know your place and burn to death."

-Fwoosh!

The bastard didn't smile. He was genuinely and purely angry. The first shock was how bafflingly novel it felt that even in this moment, his attitude was that he had truly been insulted.

The second shock was how he was so slow it made me yawn, even after applying all those enhancements so diligently?

"Hyaaat!"

Since I had absolutely no intention of grappling with a guy swinging a flaming sword, I swallowed the urge to tell him to spend less breath on his battle cry and more on controlling his breathing, stepped back, and knocked his sword aside with a deflecting strike.

-Clang!

Even though I'd struck with the same sensation as when I'd vertically split the sword of that Pavarei bastard's subordinate in the forest, the bastard's sword merely rang out sharply and bounced away intact. Well, actually, it bounced away so hard that his posture was thrown off and his balance crumbled, so calling it 'intact' is a bit of a stretch, but at minimum, the sword was intact.

First, I immediately drove a full-force kick straight into the solar plexus he was so proudly exposing.

-Thwack!

"Geughk?!"

Oh. I'd kicked with the feeling that it'd be just fine if his heart burst and he died, but it only felt like his ribs were a little damaged. Was that the effect of that Strong Body magic? That's pretty damn impressive.

"Geughhh... heugh."

There wasn't even a sensation of breakage, so he could have straightened his posture back up, but the bastard was too busy clutching his solar plexus and drooling. Thanks to that, I secretly hoped his flame-licked sword might touch his body and he'd burn to death in an unsightly mess, but regretfully, nothing of the sort happened.

That seemed less like magic and more like borrowing a spirit's authority. Everyone except me seemed to fight just fine with the help of spirits, even if it was equipment-based.

"You... dare... a wretch like you kicks me with your filthy foot...!"

This time I truly wanted to put down my sword and give a standing ovation. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Even at this point, he was angry about that? This motherfucker was the real deal. The real deal.

He was so much the real deal that I wanted to cut his fucking head off right then, but I held back with effort.

And that patience was rewarded around the time the bastard barely managed to catch his breath.

"Stop! Stop this at once!"

One guy had already died, but even so, an academy official appeared fairly quickly. It probably meant that one of the students who'd scattered in all directions had successfully done their job.

It was a man I'd never seen before, even though I'd sat through eight different classes over the past two days. Judging by the faint aura I sensed emanating from him, he was a man of some skill.

But Gwilb, already blinded by rage from being kicked by me, directed his fury at the man as well.

"Who are you?! How dare you attempt to stop me!"

Didn't they say this bastard was a baron's son? Anyone listening would think he was at least a marquis, seriously. Was the Kingdom of Rudra's class system running in reverse or something?

Still, considering I'd caved in his solar plexus with my own strength, breathing should've been hard for him, yet he sure was shouting his lungs out.

"I am overall professor of the Combat Department, Wade Palmahon. And who exactly are you to... good heavens, blood has already been spilt."

The professor who introduced himself as Wade looked at the corpse of that Rag fellow sprawled out behind me and frowned as if troubled, then looked at me. But there was no reproach in his gaze, nor any bewilderment.

It was simply the face of a working man who found it annoying to have to deal with troublesome business.

"...Pleased to meet you for the first time, Eldmia Ega. The rumors about you are already widespread, so I had wished to meet you once, but I did not expect we would come face to face in this manner."

I gave a slight nod instead of answering. Wade must already have heard what happened, because he didn't try to get me to speak by asking questions. Instead, he turned toward Gwilb and spoke.

"I have already been informed of the situation. I do not know who you are, but that in itself tells me you are one of the Empire's guests. Apologize for your insolence immediately and cease this duel."

"Y-you...! You tell me to apologize?! To that wretch who not only killed my attendant but also kicked me with his filthy foot and insulted me?!"

"Was it not you who first committed an act of insolence toward the Margrave of Itisel? Countless students came rushing in saying the exact same thing. Just as you are a guest of the Empire, this person here is also a guest of the Empire and a Margrave of a kingdom. I do not know how things are in Rudra, but had I been subjected to such insolence, I too would have drawn my sword."

Wade, evidently having been sought out by more than one or two students, already knew how the incident had begun. Even in this absurd situation, he displayed a calmness that never raised his voice, earning my admiration—but Gwilb once again surprised me even more with a moronic statement that defied imagination.

"Silence! Even if it costs me my life, I will never kneel and apologize to that wretch! If you don't want to burn to death, get out of my way this instant!"

"Have you forgotten that you are currently in the middle of a duel?! Eldmia Ega has offered this duel to the gods of Itisel! Your life is truly on the line!"

"Since that wretch has staked his life, I will personally take it!"

Hm. It seemed our friend Gwilb had lived his life without knowing that words spoken in a duel were as weighty as a pact. Still, I hoped he'd at least find it fortunate that he learned this as he died.

He had gone so far as to declare that he would never apologize even if it killed him, so there was nothing more to see. I slipped past Wade as he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tried to step between us while saying something, closed the distance to Gwilb in an instant, and swung my sword with all my strength.

I had expected it somewhat, but the bastard was unable to react after all.

"Ah..."

With that last sound—whether it was Wade's sigh or one of the watching students'—the duel came to an end.

Because I'd deliberately twisted my blade at the moment of cutting his neck, Gwilb's head, which had shot high into the air, only fell to the ground and rolled across the floor after a long while.

"Pathetic."

I'd really wanted to cram in every foul curse imaginable, but since I had to play the part of a fairy-tale knight, I ended it with a single word and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket to wipe my sword.

I wanted to wipe it on the bastard's corpse instead because the handkerchief was a waste, but I decided to bear that urge and hold it back as well.

"Is there any particular action I must take, Professor Wade?"

After wiping away the blood and sheathing my sword, I looked at Wade, and he let out a long sigh and shook his head.

"That cannot be. It was a legal and sacred duel conducted within the Empire. Should the Kingdom of Rudra protest, they will face His Majesty the Emperor's wrath."

After listening to Gwilb's deranged nonsense until moments ago, the contrast of hearing a sane, reasonable person speak was staggering.

Still, the fact that it was a satisfactory answer remained unchanged, so I paid him a light courtesy and approached Ragnis, who had been quietly observing all of this with her arms crossed the entire time.

Only I had probably noticed the satisfaction revealed at one corner of her otherwise quite serious and expressionless face.