Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Screams from Underground (1)
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"How the hell am I supposed to say that..."
Ronan muttered. He only returned to the dormitory after the sun had fully set. When he opened the door, the maid who had been dusting greeted him happily.
"Oh, you're back early today. Shall I prepare a meal?"
Ronan tossed his clothes into the corner of the room and flopped face-down onto the bed. He mumbled as if speaking from underwater.
"No thanks, Lucy. I'm not hungry."
"Has something bad happened?"
"Not bad exactly... just something that sours the mood. Hey, can I just pee right here? Too lazy to go to the toilet."
The maid's name was Lucy. Over the past few weeks, Ronan had grown fairly close to her. It was thanks to his constant pestering for her to teach him all sorts of dishes. Lucy said with a straight face.
"No. Please maintain some human dignity."
"You said you'd clean it up before."
"Even lovers who can't last three days whisper eternity on their first confession. Anyway, are you really okay?"
Lucy looked worriedly at Ronan's slumped form. Normally, he'd launch into productive activities the moment he entered the room, as if he were going to die tomorrow—reading a book or exercising or something. Ronan mumbled again.
"Lucy."
"Yes?"
"Should I protect my benefactor's dream? Or carry out their dying wish?"
"...That's quite a philosophical dilemma you're wrestling with."
"Choosing one means the other won't happen. Damn it, I really don't know."
Ronan clutched his head. The latter was a conclusion drawn across three lifetimes. The Grand General, having seen the end, knew that returning home to cut fabric was the path to his greatest happiness.
Logically, he should smash Adeshan's sword right now and force her to drop out. But every time he tried to make the call, the young girl's face floated before his eyes.
- Grand General. Even if it seems reckless, I want to give it a try.
Ronan wasn't confident he could make her into the Grand General. But he could awaken qualities she didn't even know she had. Though that would only hasten her rise to Grand General.
"Fuck... what the hell am I supposed to do..."
If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have hesitated. Amid his groans, Lucy's voice came.
"Is it something you have to decide right this instant?"
"Huh?"
"If it's not that urgent, how about just watching for a while? I don't know the details, but everyone has worries like that. Like when I was agonizing over whether to become a maid."
"Watch... I don't have to decide right away...?"
"Yes. The more important the decision, the more deliberation it deserves."
Lucy spoke in a gentle tone. Ronan lay still for a few minutes before slightly lifting his head.
"I think this every time, but you're better than most teachers, Lucy."
"Hehe, even flattery sounds nice. Thank you."
"It's true. That former Sword Saint just knocks students out."
"Naviroje? No way."
"It's true. She turned into a massive snake... Anyway, let me rest. Go on, Lucy."
"Yes. Call me if you need anything."
Lucy bowed and withdrew. Ronan stayed sprawled in that position for a long while.
The ticking of the second hand on the clock and his own ragged breathing were the only sounds filling the space. At last, he flipped over and murmured softly.
"...Maybe I'll watch a little longer."
Moonlight seeped through the window, tracing a blue path across the room. Then the path broke for a moment as something collided with the window. Bang!
"Fuck, you scared me!"
Ronan shot upright. An ugly owl perched on the windowsill, glancing around. Ronan sighed and opened the window.
"What are you? Drunk?"
Then his eyes fell on the owl's leg. A note was tied there. As Ronan untied it, the owl flew off without a backward glance. The note's contents were curt.
****
Even after the sun sets, the instructors' work doesn't end. Adeshan and Naviroje were sorting through materials from the day's class in the office attached to the First Arena.
A stack of documents piled before the women listed each trainee's information and achievements in detail. Naviroje, dressed in a shirt, rifled through the papers and spoke.
"Adeshan. Any students showing signs of Aura blooming soon?"
"Hmm... Right now, fourth-year Marshall de Acalusia looks the most promising."
"That family again. Late for an Acalusia."
Adeshan nodded. She knew of a Magic Department freshman who had already bloomed Aura. Come to think of it, she had promised to go to a cafe with her tomorrow.
'This year, I'm getting tangled up with freshmen a lot...'
Freshmen. Adeshan, who had been mulling something over, opened her mouth.
"Instructor. There's something I wanted to ask."
"Speak."
"Earlier... with Ronan student... was it really necessary to manifest Aura?"
Her voice trembled faintly. Recalling the morning's events, Naviroje smirked. It had been ages since she'd dealt with defiance.
"Why? Did he spout nonsense in the infirmary or something?"
"No, no! It's just... it was so unusual. You could've subdued him with skill alone."
"True, fully deploying the snakes was rare. Third time since taking my post at Phileon, I think."
Naviroje nodded deeply. Manifesting Aura in front of students wasn't common for her. At most, during Aura lessons, she'd show just a snake's head or tail for demonstration.
The reason for not fully deploying was simple. The students couldn't handle it. Her Aura, Mansa, paralyzed living beings in a set range and dominated their senses.
In fact, the moment Naviroje manifested Aura, every student except Ronan and Schlieffen froze like statues. The short duration meant no lasting harm, but it was plenty to fuel nightmares tonight.
Naviroje had manifested it anyway, risks be damned. She stroked her chin for a moment before speaking.
"It felt off."
"Pardon?"
"Can't explain it any other way. Fully deploying Mansa was pure instinct."
Naviroje recalled the daytime incident. Her instincts had triggered right after Ronan smashed the Cardan dummy.
A bone-chilling killing intent pierced her body for an instant. Like flocks of birds scattering at the boom of a cannon, her Aura had manifested reflexively.
"The funny part? The intent subsided just seconds after I deployed Mansa. Lucky it didn't escalate."
"What exactly did you sense from Ronan?"
Naviroje didn't answer. It was an alien presence that stirred her instincts—something hard to pin down precisely. But she'd felt it once before. Back before she'd even reached Sword Saint, let alone Sword Master, in the great forests of Armajue.
'The strongest swordsman I'd ever crossed blades with.'
She couldn't forget if she tried. The white-haired swordsman had handed her a crushing defeat, taught her a few techniques, and left. Several became the foundation of Naviroje-ryu.
For a fleeting moment, she'd sensed something similar from Ronan. After reminiscing briefly, she continued.
"...Can't explain in detail. The key point is that he resisted Mansa and took a step forward. And look at my uniform."
"Pardon?"
Naviroje pointed to her uniform draped over the chair. Adeshan tilted her head and approached. Her eyes went wide. There was a finger-width gash on the collar.
"As you know, I intimidated him with Mansa and struck his nape to knock him out. He counterattacked in the process. Not sure if he read my movement or swung blindly on instinct, but his sword was definitely aimed at my throat."
"I-Is that even possible?"
"It happened, so yes."
Adeshan was stunned. Even taking that single step was impossible.
Mansa. The Aura of an empire's pinnacle swordsman. Before the snakes that mourn the soon-to-die, even Schlieffen could do no more than grip his hilt.
Adeshan knew the rumor was true: Naviroje had once paralyzed a flock of flying wyverns and sent them plummeting to their deaths.
"Anyway, keep an eye on Ronan, Adeshan. He's the only one with the talent to vie with Schlieffen for the Sword Saint seat. At least, that's my take."
"Yes, understood."
"Zaifa will have to stay on his toes too. That cat can't cling to the Sword Saint throne forever."
Naviroje let out a low chuckle. Adeshan watched, intrigued. Was it because of the morning's events? Her usually impassive mentor seemed unusually animated today.
"By the way, what's your relationship?"
"Relationship...?"
"He seemed to despise you intensely. Definitely harbors special feelings for you. Usually it's romantic affection, but he's such a weirdo, can't say for sure."
Naviroje said matter-of-factly. Adeshan paused, pondering what "romantic affection" meant, then her face flushed red.
"R-Romantic? What kind of talk is that... We just met today...!"
"Think simply. Most men are little more than talking rocks."
Adeshan waved her hands frantically. Naviroje smirked and turned back to the stack of documents.
"Well then, shall we get back to work?"
****
"Stupid weekend outing system. Just let us out after lectures—what's the harm?"
"B-But we can do pretty much anything on the grounds, right?"
"The very fact that it restrains me is what pisses me off."
The weekend had arrived. Ronan, Asel, Marya, and Sita were finally heading to Gran Cappadocia late at night. Seeing Ronan's fatigued face, Asel asked worriedly.
"By the way... didn't sleep, Ronan? You look beat."
"Of course I'm not okay, Asel. How could I sleep? Aren't you curious what kind of monster that riceball geezer cooked up?"
"Pyaa!"
Sita cried out in response. Ronan gave a hollow laugh at the sight of her slightly plumper form. Sita had been shuttling between Nimbuton—where Iril was—every four days as a messenger, and it seemed his sister was stuffing her full each time.
Hearing Ronan, Marya said incredulously.
"And yet you're the one who's late."
"Couldn't be helped. If I'd skipped makeup class, that witch would've killed me. Damn, my shoulder still throbs."
Ronan had to attend Naviroje's class that he'd missed from fainting. With no one else in makeup, the instruction had been even harsher and more relentless. He'd only been allowed to leave Phileon's main gate after flawlessly demonstrating three basic forms of Naviroje-ryu.
"Damn, could've at least taught me that snake thing."
"Snake?"
"Yeah. You'd have pissed yourselves seeing it."
Ronan recalled the incident a few days prior. The gap to the former Sword Saint was wider than he'd thought. His eyes could track the movements, but his body couldn't keep up.
As Asel said, Ronan hadn't slept properly. Though anticipation for Didikan's weapon wasn't the reason.
'This isn't enough. I need to get stronger, by any means necessary.'
It was a humiliating defeat. Mystic technique or not, he hadn't expected to get utterly crushed. Ronan had cut sleep to train his body and hone his skills. He'd even pulled all-nighters attempting mana circulation, which was going nowhere.
'Fuck... at least want to bloom Aura within three years.'
Naviroje's Aura had been a massive shock. Not quite Schlieffen's Storm Sword, but cheat-level all the same.
Imagining such power dormant within himself made sitting still impossible. Mana sensing had to come first, of course. Ronan muttered.
"Maybe I should hunt down something good to eat..."
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Let's hurry."
Walking along the forge district, a dilapidated smithy came into view. The sign reading "Hammer Hammer Hammer" looked ready to fall at the slightest gust. Ronan knocked on the smithy's door.
"Hey, Didikan. We're here."
No reply came. He knocked again. Same. Ronan turned to his companions.
"...He didn't ditch us, did he?"
"No sane person would. Didikan! We're here!"
Marya shouted, sensitive to the word "ditch." Her voice echoed through the smithy, but still no reply.
Irritated, Ronan pounded the door roughly. Bang! The hinges gave, and it slammed into the wall. It hadn't even been latched.
"Hey, Didikan. Quit messing around and come out."
The group stepped inside. The interior of Hammer Hammer Hammer was unchanged. Moonlight filtered through the hole in the ceiling. Floating dust, a still-cooling forge, and rusted armaments met their eyes.
They moved to where the lift had been. The entrance to Gran Cappadocia was invisible to the naked eye. Ronan reached out and began groping the back of the forge.
"It was around here somewhere..."
It was definitely a mechanism activated by pressing a specific spot. As he fiddled with the dust-covered surface...
Some strange sound echoed from somewhere.
- Aaaah...
It was a sound impossible to categorize precisely. Ronan froze. Asel, following behind, tilted his head.
"What's up?"
"Shh. Be quiet."
He strained his ears to listen again, but only the creak of the building's outer walls in the wind reached him. Ronan tilted his head.
"...I definitely heard it."
"Pya."
Then Sita leapt from Ronan's shoulder. She stopped in one spot and pecked the floor with her beak. Ronan pressed his ear to the spot Sita had tapped and lay flat. Faint vibrations transmitted through his earlobe.
- Rumble...!
- Aaaaah...!
"Fuck."
Ronan shot to his feet. The same eerie sound from the day they'd left Gran Cappadocia. And faint screams were coming from below.