Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Reunion (3)
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"What the hell are you talking about all of a sudden? And did you just talk back to me?"
"Yeah. You fucking bastard."
The rectangular panel lit up brightly, signaling the start of the duel. Ronan shot forward like a bullet and gripped his sword hilt.
"Wh-what?!"
The flustered Cardan swung his spear. Four crescent-shaped sword beams sliced through the air toward him. Ronan twisted his body lightly, dodging the sword beams.
"Looks like you didn't shove your meals up your ass."
He could tell just from the sword beams. It was a level far beyond Nas or Braum. Of course, that wasn't Ronan's concern.
Cardan's expression hardened as the distance closed in an instant. He scraped together every bit of mana he had and unleashed a sword beam several times larger than before. Cardan shouted as he fired it off.
"You crazy fuck! Die!"
The sword beam flew straight for Ronan's waist—an orbit impossible to evade without wings.
But Ronan didn't dodge. He simply held his sword vertically. Boom! The bisected sword beam exploded as it fell to either side of him. Cardan's eyes widened.
"What?!"
The distance closed completely. Thousands of sword paths were already overlaid before Ronan's eyes. Most led to futures where Cardan became mincemeat. Ronan clicked his tongue.
The academy's great and all, but this is the one thing I hate.
He couldn't kill or cripple him. With a sigh, Ronan launched sword strikes toward Cardan's head and the shaft of his spear.
Slash. The blade slid across his scalp and returned. It was the moment Cardan belatedly pulled back. Severed hair floated in the air, clearing a wide bald strip across Cardan's head.
Seeing the hair raining down, Cardan cried out in a mix of shock and dismay.
"Argh! What the—?!"
"Means you won't need a haircut for a while."
At the same time, thin lines appeared on the spear shaft. It shattered into twelve pieces like an explosion. Ronan followed up with a kick straight to Cardan's chest.
"Gah!"
Cardan slammed back-first into the floor and gasped for air. His vision blurred for a moment, and the ceiling filled his view. His ribs felt broken. Ronan grabbed Cardan's collar and growled.
"Listen up, Cardan. This is a warning."
"You think you'll get away with this? Even if it's not your year, doing this to a third-year senior...!"
Slap! Ronan backhanded Cardan's cheek. A dull thud echoed from his head whipping around. Ronan yanked the now-mute Cardan's collar right up to his face and snarled.
"I've never had a senior like you, asshole. And I don't give a shit about that."
"Wh-what...!"
"Remember this. If you act like that to her one more time, I'll cut off your cute little dick and stick it on your forehead."
"H-hiiik...!"
"It'll be the ugliest unicorn in the world. Probably get bullied by other unicorns too. Horn's pathetically small."
Ronan released his grip. Cardan crumpled, banging his head on the floor. He lay there staring at the ceiling, breathing raggedly like he'd woken from a nightmare of a lifetime.
The arena had fallen into dead silence. Even Nas and Braum, who knew him, were stunned.
It was a completely different attitude from the polite way he usually treated them. Ronan rose and pointed his sword tip at one of the male students.
"You there."
"Uh... yeah?"
It was the senior whose eyes he'd met when Cardan was harassing Adeshan. Pressed by Ronan's aura, the student shrank back.
"How long has this shit been going on?"
"Wh-what are you talking about...?"
"Wanna die? You met my eyes earlier. Ring any bells?"
Ronan advanced with his sword drawn. The terrified student backpedaled. Adeshan, finally snapping out of it, stepped in front of Ronan.
"H-hey...! I'm really fine. Calm down, okay?"
"Move. I can't stand seeing you get shit on by idiots like that. Same for the bastards who just watch."
Ronan pointed at Cardan, who lay wheezing on the floor. His face was blank, haunted only by fear.
An indescribable emotion boiled in Ronan's chest. Was it belated loyalty to his old superior? Or sentiment from their final moments? He couldn't tell.
But this wasn't right. The person who'd given him a new chance shouldn't be treated like trash. The moment he pushed past Adeshan and stepped forward—
"Stop. Ronan."
The world Ronan saw plunged into darkness in an instant. Metal clanging to the floor echoed from all around.
Ronan turned toward the voice. A massive serpent loomed right in front of him, glaring. He grit his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath.
"...So that's your aura."
The serpent's body coiled around the arena, so long its end was invisible. It was big enough to swallow Professor Baren whole.
Its eerie eyes, paralyzing any creature that met them, gleamed the same deep green as Naviroje's. The serpent's maw slowly opened.
"I won't hold you accountable for what happened in the duel with Cardan. Many things happen in spars. But I can't allow more than that."
"...You saw everything?"
"Yes."
"Damn it, and you're supposed to be an educator? Your subordinate—no, your student—is getting bullied right in front of you."
Ronan spat on the floor. Swordmaster or whatever, he didn't care anymore. The serpent bared its fangs fully.
"That's not your domain. My assistant and I will handle it. Sheathe your sword and return to your place."
A chilling flick of its tongue, like licking his brain, made his hairs stand on end. He knew rationally it was Naviroje's aura mirage.
But his sword hand wouldn't stop trembling. Steadying his breath, Ronan took a step forward.
"Fuck that."
The serpent's maw snapped shut. A sharp impact hit the back of his neck. Ronan's consciousness faded.
He woke to the sound of cicadas. A ceiling of leaves came into view. With each damp gust of wind, the rustling fronds parted to reveal a sky full of clouds.
Where...?
The air felt heavy. Ronan slowly sat up. He was lying in a hammock made of netting. A familiar voice came from the corner.
"I'm telling you, catch just one properly and you're set for life! Dream Birds or sea nymphs fetch a whole mansion's worth!"
"Then why are you shoveling shit with a spade out here, Varus? Where'd you leave your mansion?"
"You dimwits just don't get it. Hey, Ronan! Straighten these idiots out!"
Ronan stood. The all-too-familiar scene unfolded: a rickety shack of scrap, the Imperial Army camp sprawling below the mountain, and guys gathered around a campfire spouting nonsense.
Like a drunk, Ronan murmured the Penal Legion comrades' names.
"...Rudan? Martin? Varus? Why are you guys... here?"
"Sigh, how much did you drink yesterday to end up like that? If you stole booze, share some."
"Leave him. Probably went nuts from boredom. Damn it, how long do we have to sit here? Being Grand General doesn't make you god."
Being Grand General doesn't make you god?
A chilling sense of déjà vu flashed through Ronan's mind at those words. It was a memory. Recalling what came next, he bolted up.
"Fuck, this isn't the time, you idiots. You can't just sit here."
"What the hell, Ronan?"
"Shut up and follow me. No time—"
Ronan reached for Varus's nape. Suddenly, a trumpet blast shook heaven and earth.
Woooooo—!
Woooooo—!
Woooooo—!
"Agh, my ears!"
"Shit, what is that?!"
The comrades clutched their ears. Noises of bustle rose from the camp below.
The moment Ronan's gaze hit the sky, a majestic voice boomed in everyone's heads.
A geometric magic circle appeared in the air as clouds shattered. A pure-white giant with four wings flapped slowly, descending.
"Wh-what is that?!"
"M-monster!"
The comrades screamed at the surreal sight. Arrows and attack spells numbering enough to blot the sky rained toward the giant. Seeing light gather in Ahayute's hand, Ronan turned.
"Listen. You're useless, so use the chaos to run. Two more of those are coming, so head north and... "
Ronan froze. His three comrades were all corpses. Their mangled flesh was unrecognizable, features obliterated.
Shaaaa...
Rain fell. Ronan noticed the background had become a blood-red wasteland. Ahayute's blue blood pooled at his feet. A whisper brushed his ear.
"Will you make me a contractor?"
"Gah!"
Ronan shot upright. The blanket covering him fell to the floor. White curtains draped everywhere. Urgent footsteps approached, and one curtain parted.
"What happened? You okay?!"
"...Adeshan?... Naviroje?"
Naviroje and Adeshan in her uniform entered. Naviroje scanned Ronan up and down, then turned.
"He looks fine. I'll go ahead."
"Y-yes!"
The footsteps faded. What an absurd exit. Adeshan hesitated, then perched on the chair by the bed.
"You passed out, so I brought you to the infirmary. How's your body?"
"...Fine."
"You got mad because of me earlier, right?"
Ronan didn't answer. It had been a nightmare. Ahayute descending, corpses strewn hideously, the Grand General's final words lingering like residue in his mind.
Gauging his mood, Adeshan continued.
"Don't hate the bystanders too much. Cardan's one of the top ten third-years. They knew it was wrong but were too scared to speak."
"...And what about that bastard?"
"Not sure, but he probably won't show up for classes awhile. Couldn't even walk on his own—his friends had to carry him."
"Good."
Ronan nodded. He'd trust that guy's intelligence. If he didn't get the warning after that, then he'd really have to kill or cripple him.
"General... no, Adeshan. One thing I'm curious about."
"Yeah? What?"
"Why put up with that treatment? Doesn't it piss you off? Especially Naviroje, your instructor, just watching."
Ronan's voice rose. My assistant and I will handle it. The words reignited his anger. Adeshan twisted her lips before speaking.
"It's fine. I asked her to."
"You asked?"
"Yeah. Naviroje's a really good person, so don't misunderstand. I begged her not to interfere, even if people like Cardan treat me badly."
"Why make such a stupid... no, idiotic request?"
Adeshan explained. Former Sword Saint Naviroje was her idol. After four years of exams, Adeshan had miraculously entered Phileon and desperately wanted her class. But it was only for Sword Experts and above.
"I'm hogging privileges I don't deserve. I'm still stuck at Sword User level. Even if it's smoothed over as TA work, that doesn't change."
Ronan's eyes widened. Not at her thoughtfulness.
Years of training and still Sword User...? The Grand General Adeshan?
In his ignorant past, he'd have brushed it off. But now? It was nonsense.
He recalled Adeshan's aura. She had the prowess befitting the empire's pinnacle.
Come to think of it, she'd said something about mana too. As Ronan opened his mouth, Adeshan continued.
"Still, thanks. We're practically strangers, but you stood up for me."
"...I just got pissed."
"You're a good guy then. Oh, look at this."
Adeshan pulled something out. It was Ronan's jacket from the duel. She pointed at the elbow, beaming.
"It was a bit torn, so I sewed it. Perfect, right?"
"Yeah."
As she said, no trace remained at the elbow. Her stitching was pro-level. With the ice broken, Adeshan chattered on.
"You're the first student to resist Naviroje's aura and move. How? Everyone else but Schlieffen dropped their weapons."
"Grip the hilt fucking tight."
"Haha, you're funny."
Adeshan giggled. She showed no aversion to his rough speech. It was oddly fitting. After pondering, Ronan spoke.
"Anyway, inspired by you, I went to the library, and there's this first-year girl wandering alone. Real pretty purple hair, so..."
"Adeshan."
"Yeah?"
"Why try so hard?"
"What... do you mean?"
"Why obsess over getting stronger? You know if it were anyone else, they'd have broken long ago."
Adeshan's situation sucked: no talent, held back for practicals, doing odd jobs for tuition.
Yet her will unbroken meant some backbone. Ronan pressed.
"Special reason?"
Adeshan faltered. Ronan stared, smile gone. She avoided his gaze, stared at her knees, then spoke.
"Well... I have a dream."
"Dream?"
"Yeah. One I really want... Promise not to laugh, and I'll tell you."
"Promise."
"Okay. We click somehow. You really mean it? Haven't told anyone."
Ronan nodded. Adeshan took a deep breath and murmured.
"Grand General."
Time stopped for Ronan. Adeshan dry-washed her face, blushing as she continued.
"Sounds reckless, but I want to try. I'm confident in military studies and tactics—no one's ever beaten my scores."
Hope flickered in her gray eyes. She poured out her dream rapid-fire.
"And when war breaks out, tons of people die, right? I..."
She trailed off abruptly. A shadow crossed her face, but Ronan's misty eyes missed it. Adeshan smiled brightly again.
"Never mind. Later. Anyway, no one follows a commander without aura."
The longer she spoke, the more real it felt. The Grand General Adeshan who wanted to be a contractor was gone. Ronan wiped his eyes with his sleeve and chuckled dryly.
"So... Hey! You said no laughing!"
"Not laughing."
"Ugh... really?"
Adeshan glared. Ronan nodded with a wry smile. She checked her watch and stood.
"Well... gotta go. Rest plenty before heading back."
"Yeah."
"Oh, Naviroje said be in next class or else."
"Damn it, got it."
"See you, Ronan. Come to Arena 1 or Kratir Hall if you need to talk."
Thud. The door closed. Ronan sat on the bed long after. Her final words circled his mind.
- Will you tell them not to do foolish things and to become a contractor?
Foolish things. Ronan twisted his lips. Crimson light seeped through the curtains. Sunset already.
"How the hell am I supposed to say that?"
Ronan muttered. He didn't return to the dorm until full dark.