Bedside Conspiracy and Colosseum Clash
We sat in a circle on the bed.
Everyone avoided the spots soaked with tears and sweat(?).
But with not enough room, the ones who got them damp had to sit there anyway.
"You sit there."
"Hiiing…."
"Quit whining, seriously."
"Hurry up and sit. That's where I was sleeping—the blanket feels off already."
"Yeah, it gets tangled around my feet sometimes. If it's wet, it'll suck even more."
"But guys, isn't it weird how naturally we're crashing in my room? Can't we just go to yours?"
My casual remark got ignored.
"Anyway, a few ways come to mind for how that bastard suddenly got stronger."
Ashy pulled out a sheet of paper. Never seen that before? And why from my bookshelf?
What the hell? This is my room, right?
Maybe this is actually their hideout?
While I started spiraling into confusion, they carried on smoothly without me.
"First up: black magic."
"Nah, everyone got screened and passed."
"Right, so that was just a throwaway. Next: inheritance."
I settled into a decent spot.
Inheritance.
I knew the term well. My current body was inherited from my predecessor. It wouldn't have reached this level otherwise, but inheriting the body of someone who'd surpassed Master realm got me to High Knight level.
But it wasn't all freebies. There was always a price.
"The Sage is still kicking, right?"
"Obviously. No way that old coot hands over his lifetime achievements and croaks that easily. And if it was inheritance, he'd be way stronger."
The inheritor had to die.
When I inherited, my predecessor's lifespan was already ending, so we agreed to it.
And that wasn't all.
The giver had to be several times stronger than the receiver.
Plus, there needed to be a 'connection' between them—bloodline, or divine approval through shared faith.
So the only possible candidate was the Sage, but he was alive and well. Even if he had done it, the continent wouldn't be this quiet.
He'd be rampaging like a madman.
And he was too weak for an 8-circle inheritance anyway.
"Another one: ancient sorcery."
"Ancient sorcery?"
"Yeah. It's magic so ancient even modern mages can't fully analyze it. Rumors say ancient monsters created it, or it's as old as them. It's kinda in-between, so it's treated as 'sorcery' instead."
Adria chimed in hesitantly.
"But the imperial family officially banned ancient sorcery as taboo. Even a duke's house can't touch it willy-nilly."
"But the Sage is beyond archmage level. And he's loaded. He probably got permission."
"…Yeah, true. Laws bend for the rich. Dad might've even approved it 'for research purposes.'"
"But does that actually boost power?"
"No clue."
"?"
How do you know about ancient sorcery then?
"Anyway, that's the most plausible. The others don't add up. Either the batshit Sage used it on his son, or that idiot sought power himself. Best way to check?"
"Grab him and beat answers out of him. Or you win."
"…Me?"
Jenella pointed at herself in bewilderment. I nodded like it was obvious.
"Duh, you win. I won't run into him midway."
"Why?!"
"It's fate."
"…."
"…."
Adria recoiled in disgust.
"That tone was straight-up Bulria."
"Just pad-rip him instead."
"Sorry, that was too much."
Adria apologized readily.
Anyway, decision made.
Subdue the bastard and see. A good thrashing should snap him out of it. If not, I could infuse some Divine Power or try healing magic.
"So the plan's just to beat him up?"
"What, like it's news."
Yeah, pretty much.
Yeah.
What.
Come to think of it, one exam left.
Basic Swordsmanship lecture.
Tournament-style, with 2nd to 6th getting A grades. Plus, standout performers and growth get good marks too.
1st? A+ grade, Eroy's direct discipleship, calls from countless houses.
Honor, money, everything on the line. Friends' eyes burned with fire.
"…I'll definitely beat you!"
Yahan was one of them. Didn't care about other houses, but official chance to crush me? He was hyped.
I shrugged, playing along.
"Sure, sure. Beat Mosik first?"
Mosik flexed his bicep beside me. His suit sleeve ripped, revealing solid arm muscle.
Safety gear for the exam was a vest—no issue.
Woooaaah!
Kyaah!
Body divided guys, mixed for girls, but Mosik's looks and vibe made him popular across the board.
Top of academy popularity now.
Others? Adria, Banasi princesses. Total three idols.
Ashy and I were top too. In the "scary" category.
This guy's terrifying, guys. Fear him.
"Whoa, huge crowd. Place is all shiny."
With outsiders invited, we were in a colosseum-like arena. Impressive scale.
Stands, medics at entrance for emergencies.
"Ah, ah."
Eroy appeared, mic in hand, super pumped.
"Everyone ready?"
I shouted big.
"Yes!!"
"Good! Tournament starts now!"
Kiririk! Clank! Thud!
Iron cages shot from the ground, dividing people.
"?"
"Team battle tournament! Random teams of six. Last team standing fights internally!"
What weird rules.
Wait, not the point.
"Uh, hi?"
"…."
My team: Mosik and Yahan.
"Damn! Damn! Daaaamn!"
Fate, huh?
I couldn't hide my awe.
Yahan lunged wild-eyed, but Mosik's huge hand clamped his shoulder.
"Calm down."
"Shut up!"
"Rush in blind now, you lose your shot and tarnish House Horain. That okay?"
Yahan growled beastly. I snickered.
"We fight last anyway? Don't be dumb. Our enemies are them now."
"No!!"
Druruk!
Cages opened—tons of students charged me.
Eyes full of ambition, weapons swinging.
"'Your' enemies are 'us'!!!"
Damn, how many?
"Y'all xB too much?"
I chuckled, drawing my sword from my waist. Balanced it, so no personal weapon.
Standard issue iron sword. Fancy for academy, but plain to me.
Shring—
Sword out, clashed with charging blades.
-Tap.
I sheathed it.
Instantly.
Clang, thud! Tumble!
Swords fell severed. Others chipped, dented—wrecked.
"Wh-what…."
Wasn't slacking on Ashy's training.
Worked hard: minimal Divine Power exposure, but using it anyway.
Result: barely visible blade aura boosted cutting power.
"C'mon."
I flipped them the bird.
"Hurry up."
"…Kill him!"
"Block once! Just parry!"
"Parry's just for style."
Big guys swung greataxes first. Obvious swings—sidestepped. Head chop? Blocked.
Longsword vs. greataxe: axe should win. But at clash, axe lost balance, glanced off.
Thud!
Axe embedded beside me. Knee to solar plexus.
Giant toppled—then rapier users lunged, thin blades flashing.
Movements clear. I mirrored their stance. Knocked tips aside one by one.
"…!"
"I-im—"
Smack!
Thrust grazed my side—missed. Punched face.
Teeth and blood sprayed; flung back.
Attackers froze, eyeing each other weapons-up. I grinned mockingly.
Flipped off the top-rankers in back.
"You coming? Oh, Ashy, stay out."
"Okay~."
"…What're you doing?!"
Ashy stood meek; teammate panicked. She cupped blushing cheeks shyly.
"He said don't come."
"You crazy bitch…."
"Swearing's bad. And we're not teammates?"
Gasp.
Thud!
One out. No rush from others—I turned to Yahan and Mosik.
"Mosik, Yahan. Handle yourselves. I'll play with these."
"Got it."
"…Don't tap out first. I gotta face you!"
"Yessir, yessir."
I grinned, charging students.
"Play with me!!!"
"Th-that psycho!"
"Human? Demon!"
"Y-you devil!"
"Don't run~ Let's play! Safety gear's got you!"
Bang! Crash!
"Argh!"
"Guh!"
"Kek!"
Hour later?
Cleared my rushers(?), wiped cheek sweat, turned.
Mosik and Yahan shoved foes aside, panting. Our teammates down—four left in arena.
"Still kicking?"
"Of course. I taught you the sword."
Four total. Mosik-Yahan fight each other; me vs. Ashy.
Clang!
Ashy dropped her sword.
"I forfeit."
"?"
"??"
Eroy, watching refs, panicked.
"Ashy? Did I hear wrong?"
"If you heard forfeit, you heard right."
"Why?"
Ashy blushed, hands on cheeks.
"Can't hit the guy I have a crush on!"
"…."
"…Th-that witch has a crush?!"
Stands erupted—loud enough to hear.
Shut up already?
Down to three. Just decide 1st.
"?"
Felt a glare. Whipped around. Man in stands.
Faint presence, semi-transparent. Magic? New face. Kindly aged, long white beard, eyes mad—not wise.
Instinct knew.
The Sage.
Continent's top mage. Malia Arishion glared, eyes bulging.
Hi?
I mouthed it, waved.