Chapter 316
Chapter 316
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 316
Chapter Title: Academy's Genius Swordsman -Fin-
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"...Is it morning already."
Ronan opened his eyes. Through the translucent curtains, the faint dawn light was seeping in. Having slept deeply without dreams for the first time in a while, his mind felt refreshed.
"Yaaawn..."
If there were no schedule, he wanted to sleep more. After yawning languidly, he turned his head while still lying down. There was Adeshan, using his right arm as a pillow.
'Pretty.'
Ronan wound his index finger around her hair. It was now a daily morning sight. Just then, she opened her eyes and asked in a slightly hoarse voice.
"Mmm... what time is it?"
"Oh, you're awake?"
Her wildly tousled hair evoked the image of seaweed. Ronan fumbled on the nightstand with his other arm and picked up the alarm clock.
"Let's see... it's 8:30."
"I seeee... then just a bit more... Wait, what?!"
Suddenly, Adeshan shot upright like a spring. The blanket slipped down, revealing her snow-white naked body.
No matter how many times he saw it, Ronan reflexively gave a thumbs up at the stunning sight, but she had no time for play today. Adeshan clutched her head.
"I-I don't know. We're totally late...!"
"Huh? The graduation ceremony isn't until 10 anyway, right?"
"I was the student council president! Did you forget the principal entrusted the valediction to me?"
"Ah."
Ronan snapped his fingers. Come to think of it, she had been given that duty. As Adeshan hurriedly tried to rise, she let out a yelp.
"Ow!"
"What's wrong?"
"M-my legs... still have no strength..."
After a full five minutes of effort, she finally managed to stand. Seeing her trembling legs, Ronan felt a pang of needless guilt. He scratched his head and bowed his head.
"Um... sorry."
"I'm done for... They'll all figure out why I'm late... I must be crazy, why did I go with the mood..."
Adeshan muttered to herself the whole time she got ready to go out. Her fair face was flushed red enough to burst. While she washed up, Ronan fetched her clothes and chuckled.
"Calm down and get dressed first. Wow, who would've thought we'd wear uniforms again."
"Thanks. Ugh... hope it fits right? Don't laugh if it looks weird..."
"You'll look pretty no matter what, so don't worry. Though, going with the mood just last night seems too frequent for that excuse."
"You really... J-just get ready first!"
Adeshan turned away as if to say one more thing. There was no time for a pillow fight. Somehow, she managed to get ready on time.
"Wow, you pulled it off."
"Haha, basic."
Ronan stuck out his tongue in admiration. As expected of the former Allied Forces Supreme Commander—impeccable adaptability.
Adeshan's uniform hadn't shrunk a bit, as anticipated. Wearing it as an adult brought a whole new charm. Just before stepping out the door, she kissed Ronan and beamed.
"I'll be back. Love you!"
"Me too."
Ronan waved. Bang! The front door slammed shut. Stretching languidly, he headed back to the bedroom.
He needed to get ready soon to arrive on time. Pulling his uniform from the closet, Ronan smirked. The leather patch Adeshan had sewn on the coat was still prominently there.
"Phileon... it's really been forever."
****
An hour later, Ronan left the house. The uniform, donned after so long, fit just right. The streets, welcoming the morning, echoed with fresh bird chirps everywhere.
"Nice weather."
The early spring sky was cloudless and clear. Seeing the greenery sprouting anew made the passage of time feel real. It had been a full year since the war with Nebula Klazier ended.
'Feels like ages ago. Time flies.'
Ronan smacked his lips as memories resurfaced. The years had flown by so fast he barely remembered how they passed. Though much had happened, most of his time went into rebuilding the shattered world.
Abel's claim that a third of the world was obliterated wasn't exaggeration. Countless people died or were injured, nations and communities wiped out.
The capital suffered gravely too. Phileon Academy's suspension extended until the city regained stability.
The reason Ronan started living with Adeshan was the destruction of Phileon's dorms. Looking around, he whistled.
"Oh, they've fixed a lot."
In the distance, reconstruction of the imperial palace was underway—the final project after other buildings and facilities.
Emperor Balon IV, who miraculously survived, devoted himself to stability and restoration until his hair turned fully white. For months after the war, it seemed the empire might collapse entirely, but his abilities were exceptional.
"Will the emperor show up today too..."
Ronan muttered. The last time was the title conferment; attending graduation would be a real reunion.
Still, the broken world recovered faster than expected. United by shared calamity, people banded together.
'Even the battleship Daynhar was mobilized for construction.'
Dragons and vampires, usually aloof from worldly affairs, aiding reconstruction shortened the timeline immensely. Before he knew it, Ronan arrived at Phileon and headed to the grand plaza.
"Damn, were there always this many people?"
Pushing through the crowd, Ronan frowned. With classes resuming alongside graduation, it was more packed than usual.
"Kyaaah!"
Sita, arriving first, circled overhead. As Ronan scanned for a seat in the stands, a booming voice rang out nearby.
"Ronan! Over here!"
"What, you're all here already?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow at Marya. Familiar faces flanked her.
Now Countess Armallen, Marya had matured like the others. Settling into his seat, Ronan greeted her exaggeratedly.
"My thanks for your consideration, Countess Marya."
"What're you saying? You're nobility too."
Marya laughed in disbelief. As in her previous life, she'd been granted Armallen territory by the emperor, becoming nobility.
Her wartime feats helped, but the Karabel Merchant Group's stellar supply role for the Allies was key.
Now, Karabel was among the continent's top merchant conglomerates. Suddenly, hearty laughter erupted from behind her.
"Wahaha! That's true, Duke Ronan de Baltuas. How's the territory?"
"Braum? Why're you sitting here?"
Ronan's eyes widened. Braum's bushy beard made his straining uniform look ready to burst.
"You've gone full beard. Won't get your diploma?"
"Of course I will, but came to greet first! With Miss Ophelia and the Grand Duke!"
Braum stepped aside. Ophelia, hidden before, stepped forward. As expected of a vampire, her appearance was unchanged.
"Long time, Ronan. Thanks for everything... Joining your club was the best choice of my life."
"Same here. What're your plans after graduation?"
"Reconstruction's mostly done, so... time to dive into new blood magic research. Luckily, the Grand Duke came to his senses..."
Ophelia smiled, her fangs glinting cutely. Hearing "Grand Duke," Ronan tilted his head.
"Right. Where's the old man? Didn't you come together?"
A childish voice came from somewhere. Ophelia silently stepped aside. A boy half Ronan's height appeared. With a hunch, Ronan asked.
"...Grand Duke?"
The boyish Grand Duke clicked his tongue. His chubby cheeks made him look under ten—the price of sacrificing six of seven blood essences to survive.
"Ah... still, glad you're alive. Won't get mad if I pat your head?"
Ronan chuckled at the Grand Duke's retort—same temper he knew. Then, nearby students murmured.
"That lady over there... isn't she the Mother of Fire? Saw her at the entrance ceremony two years ago..."
"No way... but who's next to her? C-can't breathe."
Sensing extraordinary killing intent, Ronan turned. In the front row stood a red-haired noblewoman and a man clad in black.
The man's emanating aura was ominous. Glancing around, he growled lowly.
"Ridiculous. Why must I be here?"
"Don't be like that. You'll come yearly anyway."
"Damn it, then it's to bring destruction and despair, right? It better be."
"No. It's Ronan and friends' graduation."
The noblewoman smiled. Instantly, killing intent surged from the man's shoulders—enough to fell ordinary folk. But she elbowed his side, containing it.
"Gah!"
"Oh dear, what's wrong, Orse?"
Crack! Bones crunching, the man knelt. The noblewoman covered her smile with a fan as if nothing happened. Watching, Ronan snickered.
"What're you two doing there?"
"Oh, caught. Hid the horns and everything."
"...Honestly, Navardoje, horns aren't the issue."
Ronan stared at Navardoje's incredibly ample bosom with deadpan awe. He asked.
"Anyway, nice to see you. What about Adren?"
"Azidahaka and Alibrishe are leading construction. They're doing splendidly. With Elsia too, it'll wrap up soon."
"Ah. Good to hear."
Ronan nodded. Makes sense—all geniuses in their fields. Groaning in pain, Orse looked up.
"Grr... you bastard...!"
"Why provoke and get hit?"
"Not interested in you. Where's the killing machine? Bring him!"
Orse bellowed loud enough for the plaza. Asel, beside Marya serving as armrest, flinched.
"Eek! O-Orse?!"
"Kuhahaha, there you are! Come with me. A new blood festival awaits south!"
Spotting Asel, Orse laughed maniacally, shoving through. Pale-faced Asel screamed.
"N-nooo!"
He swung blindly, eyes shut. Thwack! An invisible fist smashed Orse's jaw. The dragon toppled, eyes rolled back.
"N-no! It was reflex...!"
Asel jumped up. Navardoje sighed at the unconscious Orse. Confirming him out, Ronan clapped in admiration.
"Impressive. Didn't even see it."
"R-Ronan... that's not it!"
As Asel tried explaining, a familiar voice rang from the entrance.
"There they are! Ronan! Everyone!"
The voice invigorated him. Turning, he saw students parting. Iril and Schlieffen walked through.
Admiration erupted everywhere.
"Wow."
"Th-the Empire's Rising Star... who's beside?"
"Like an angel from heaven...!"
Students couldn't look away from Iril. Seeing their linked arms, Ronan's forehead vein throbbed.
'No. Calm down.'
He gritted his teeth to suppress rage. Reluctantly, Schlieffen was the only being worthy of dating his sister. Approaching Iril hugged him tightly.
"Ronan! Doing well? Hehe, not coming home lately—having fun with Adeshan?"
"Yeah... You good, sis? This guy's treating you right?"
"Yep! Lots of customers lately. Schlieffen visits every morning!"
Iril beamed. Months ago, she'd opened a small restaurant. Rustic fare like potato stew didn't fit the capital, yet patrons flocked.
"...Miss Iril. We should sit."
Schlieffen blushed silently. His impulsive proposal a year ago still left arm-linking overwhelming. Ronan whispered in his ear.
"No fantasies till marriage. Got it?"
"...I'm not that lowly."
Schlieffen's resolute tone, vowing to protect the world, made Ronan smirk unwittingly. He knew Schlieffen wouldn't.
"Sure. Good seeing you. Later."
"Yeah. New semester starts soon."
"See ya, Ronan! Bye!"
Iril and Schlieffen sat nearby. Each poke or link muddled his mind.
Then, a girl stopped before Iril.
"I'll sit here."
"Hm? Who's this cutie?"
"Rin."
Luxuriant white hair like a lion's mane cascaded to her waist. Schlieffen's eyes widened at Rin.
"You...!"
"Handsome Butt #2. Hi."
He remembered her—the holy sword's spirit, groping butts at the Sword Festival.
Regaining power, she could now take human form. Plopping on Iril's lap, Rin admired.
"Sis is so pretty... prettiest human I've seen."
"Aw, thanks. You're adorable too."
Iril smiled, hugging Rin before Schlieffen could protest. Fiddling her hair, Iril asked him.
"Say, if I have a kid later, think they'll have hair like this? So pretty."
"Guh!"
Schlieffen choked mid-swallow. Iril tilted her head.
"Huh? What's wrong?"
"Ch-child... I mean...!"
Schlieffen averted eyes. Rin giggled at his flushed face. Suddenly, a grand voice boomed across the plaza.
"We now commence the graduation ceremony. Silence, please."
All eyes turned. Principal Krava Kratir stood at the podium, former president Adeshan demurely behind.
"Sis really graduating... Adeshan sis..."
Erzsebet, in front of Ronan, sniffled, binoculars on Adeshan. Ronan said.
"Just visit often. She lives with us anyway."
"Don't talk to me, villain! Waking to Adeshan sis beside you... If you weren't the world-saving hero, I wouldn't let it slide!"
Erzsebet burst into tears. On her lap sat Sion Sinivan de Grancia, Schlieffen's sister, munching snacks—a fitting bridge easing Grancia-Acalusia ties.
Behind Adeshan: familiar faces—Baren, Naviroje, Zarodin, and his new wife Sunya, the martial arts instructor.
Kratir continued.
"As you know, much transpired this past year. Let us observe a moment of silence for the noble heroes who sacrificed for the world."
All closed eyes in silence. The ceremony proceeded. Midway through Kratir's dull speech, Ronan poked Asel's side.
"Asel. Future plans?"
"Pl-plans? Uh... probably Twilight Tower for a bit. Vacation with Marya to another continent... You?"
"Dunno... what first."
Ronan stroked his chin. Peace at last, but too much to do for leisure.
First, visit Zaifa and Secret in the north, then Sarante's new temple. Discipline Grancia nobles lest they slight sis. Penal legion buddies likely survived—he alone could reform those idiots.
Tasks seemed endless, so Ronan focused on now. Scratching head, he said.
"Gotta get that diploma first."
Ronan grinned. Kratir's speech ended; Adeshan's valediction began. Gentle spring breeze carried new semester's floral scent over the hushed crowd.
Ronan rather liked it.
Academy's Genius Swordsman -Fin-