Duel (2)
Zernya appeared out of nowhere and snapped at us. “You’re both sloppy.”
“What?”
“With skills like that, you think you can become an A-rank swordsman?”
It was the kind of thoughtless remark you’d spit out like chewed gum. “I already knew about Rheinland, so that’s whatever… but you’re nothing special either.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
“What else? Quit while you’re ahead.”
Zernya flicked her fingers in a dismissive gesture. Blood vessels rose in Rustila’s eyes.
“I felt it the last time I saw you. Swordsmanship that was never properly taught. It’s on the level of children playing around. All brute force and nothing but crudeness. With swordplay like that, you couldn’t cut down a single A-rank monster, let alone reach S-class.”
She tore into Rustila with almost artistic precision. But Zernya didn’t know. The sword was Rustila’s everything—her reverse scale.
“Have you said everything you wanted to say?”
“No. Not yet.”
Look at her. Zero manners. If she just kept her mouth shut, she’d be a beautiful girl who could draw crowds with her smile, but that three-inch tongue of hers always creates enemies instead.
“Please wait a moment.”
“I cannot tolerate any further insults toward the young lady!”
It was bad enough that Sonia and Verdia—who had been tearing into each other just moments ago—now moved in perfect sync to block her.
“Get lost.”
The two androids were shoved backward.
“I have no interest in tin cans.”
“T-tin can…? Have you said everything you wanted to say?!”
Verdia shrieked in outrage.
“Though this body was created by humans, I must speak my mind. Do not say such things. It offends me!”
Even for an android, a fifth-generation model was still fifth-generation. They possessed emotions just like humans. Hearing herself called a tin can, there was no way she wouldn’t get angry.
While Verdia huffed and clenched her fists, Sonia remained relatively calm.
“In truth, I have no interest in humans either. There is no need to store this in my memory. How dull.”
She dragged Verdia away with quick steps. It seemed her talent for walking the tightrope while tormenting Idel hadn’t gone anywhere—she knew exactly when to withdraw.
Rustila ground her teeth and glared at Zernya. “I don’t need long words. Just tell me why you’re picking a fight.”
“So impatient.”
“You’re mocking me after all, aren’t you?”
“Mocking?”
Zernya, who had been approaching slowly, closed the distance until she stood right in front of Rustila. Zernya lifted her chin; Rustila looked down at her. It was by no means a posture of submission. Her right hand was gently stroking the sword she held.
“Your hands are itching, I see?”
“…Yes.”
“What a coincidence. So are mine.”
Only then did Zernya release the hands she had kept behind her back. With a soft rustle, something slid out. A plasma sword.
“I’ll teach you your place.”
“You…”
“Someone who’s behind in both studies and swordsmanship has no right to set foot in our class. You’d only muddy the waters.”
“I’ll shut that mouth of yours right now.”
Whoa. The main hero and main villain of the college arc facing off? My chest swelled with excitement even though they hadn’t started fighting yet. And the location was perfect—the stadium. An ideal spot for a one-on-one brawl.
The two of them gripped swords whose blades held no Ether and widened the distance between them. Are they really going to fight? Are they?
“I’ll let you have the first move.”
They’re fighting!
“…Don’t complain later.”
“Enough talk. Just come at me already.”
The next instant, the sound of air being sliced rang out, and Rustila’s figure vanished. The ground cracked. In the blink of an eye, Rustila’s blade thrust toward Zernya’s chest. Zernya boldly parried it.
Just as Rustila’s eyes were about to widen—
Zernya drove the pommel of her sword into her abdomen.
The next morning.
I was organizing my dorm room and about to head to class when a girl stormed out from the opposite dormitory building, shouting violently.
“That fucking bitch!”
What now?
Seti, her face twisted like a yaksha, hurled every curse she could think of as she charged forward. Thanks to Sonia—who had become obsessively protective of me—stepping in, I avoided the unfortunate fate of having my solar plexus pierced.
“Sister, what’s wrong?”
“It’s that Zernya bitch! That bitch!”
Seti stamped her feet in fury and yelled at the top of her lungs. “I’m going to kill her! I swear I will!”
I could roughly guess what had set her off.
In yesterday’s spar with Zernya, Rustila had lost. And not after exchanging several blows—it had ended in a single strike.
While their absolute skill levels might have been similar, Zernya possessed a sense and technique that Rustila lacked. That tiny difference had produced an overwhelming result.
Even I, who knew the future, hadn’t expected Rustila—the girl destined to be called the Sword Saint—to lose in one blow. I couldn’t help but be shocked.
“You were there at the time. Why didn’t you stop it?”
“I thought she would win.”
“Ha, shit…”
“So, is Rustila okay?”
I had gone with her to the infirmary just in case, but since a full night had passed, her condition might have worsened.
“She has a deep purple bruise on her stomach. It’s not enough to keep her from moving… but she keeps letting out groans whenever there’s a gap. That crazy bitch—I will never forgive her.”
Seti clenched her fist tightly. But what could anger accomplish? There was a clear gap between Zernya’s combat power and ours. Even if we wanted to beat her up, the difference in strength made it impossible. And even if we somehow managed to pummel Zernya, that would create its own problems. If we subdued a direct descendant of the Adelbein family through unacceptable means, we had no idea what consequences would follow.
Seti knew this well. All the way to school, she repeated “I’m going to kill her” like a parrot.
“What was first period again?”
“Combat training.”
“Then we have to go to the stadium. Ah, wait a second…”
Seti paused, then let out a low, sinister chuckle. “Couldn’t we use combat training as an excuse to beat the shit out of her?”
“Don’t even think about it. Even if the two of us teamed up, we’d lose.”
“In my current pissed-off state, I might be able to pull it off.”
I sighed. Seti was ice-cold when it came to handling money, but whenever Rustila was involved, she always lost her reason.
“You mustn’t confuse courage with recklessness because of a momentary emotion. Just do what you can do.”
“And what exactly can I do?”
“That’s for you to figure out.”
The answer was already set, but I didn’t want to tell her. It would be better if she discovered it herself and dismantled one aspect of the Adelbein family entirely through her own power.
The Adelbeins were a villainous faction aligned with the Outer Deities. If we couldn’t bring them to our side, they had to be eliminated.
I would do it through grades, Rustila through the sword, and Seti through finance. Many other characters needed to grow strong enough to keep Zernya and the entire Adelbein family in check.
Of course, I would only help subtly, so they would feel as if they had grown on their own. Because that was what true growth meant.
It might feel like I was ostracizing Zernya, but it couldn’t be helped. I wanted to change her… but if she refused to change until the end, she would ultimately remain an enemy.
Suppressing my complicated feelings, I headed toward the class location.
There, I saw Rustila vigorously swinging her sword on one side of the stadium. Fortunately, it seemed yesterday’s defeat hadn’t broken her spirit.
Soon, a solidly built man blew a whistle, drawing the attention of the students who had been training freely.
“Class is starting. Everyone gather up.”
It was a face I had never seen before.
“Who are you?”
“I’m the new instructor.”
“What about the teacher who was here until last week?”
“Fired.”
The students’ faces went blank. Combat training classes last week had been relaxed and easygoing, which had been nice.
“Let’s introduce ourselves. My name is Isaac Clark.”
A ridiculously strong-sounding name came out. He was clearly an incredibly powerful person. Even without knowing the novel’s contents, I could tell. From this man, I could sense the presence of a Constellation—one on a galactic scale.
“Ah, Isaac Clark…?”
“Clark? That’s the surname of the Omega-rank swordsman couple…!”
He was so famous that the students were already whispering among themselves.
“Not just Omega—Great Omega, you idiot.”
Great Omega. Among Omega-rank swordsmen, the twelve strongest were called that. They took the twelve zodiac constellations of the imperial capital as their own and defended the corresponding directions.
Wait, why would someone like that come to our school as an instructor?
“Alright, alright, enough chatter. There’s only one reason I came here as a teacher. To make all of you stronger.”
“Stronger…”
Rustila murmured.
“You all suffered greatly during the last two invasions. It seems an unknown phenomenon created holes in the Ether Belt that protects us. Even now, scientists are working hard to figure out why the belt was damaged.”
“What?”
The students asked in great shock.
“There are holes in the Ether Belt…?”
“Ah, right. That was supposed to be classified.”
“……?”
“Well, there’s no reason to hide it from you. You’ve already experienced two such invasions. What good would it do to keep something like this from you? Tsk.”
Instructor Clark clicked his tongue and continued.
“Anyway, from now on, I will teach you the best swordsmanship and techniques so that none of you will die. Learn properly and grow strong enough to protect yourselves.”
Rustila’s eyes sparkled like stars. In contrast, Zernya looked utterly uninterested. She stared only at me, as if she had met countless Omega-rank swordsmen before and found none of this impressive.
Her gaze was sharp, so I glared right back at her.
From the very first class, Instructor Clark created a sparring chart. He paired up students from the elite class with people they were close to and had them engage in simple duels. This had the advantage of letting him roughly gauge everyone’s skill level.
As Clark observed the situation, his eyes fell on two girls. Blonde and silver-haired. Rustila Kersil and Zernya von Adelbein.
“Didn’t I tell you to pair up with people you’re close to?”
“Why? We’re close.”
“One sword clash doesn’t make you that close.”
Zernya deliberately emphasized the word “one.” It was a jab at how Rustila had been knocked out in a single strike the previous day.
Rustila’s teeth ground together. “I won’t fall for the same trick twice.”
I will definitely defeat you.
That firm resolve could be seen in her deep blue eyes. Sensing her fighting spirit, the corners of Instructor Clark’s eyes widened.
“Oh?”
The two girls assumed their stances. Both looked quite skilled.
The silver-haired girl had taken a stance required for military swordsmanship—something she must have learned at some point. Not only that, she even mixed in variations to create a posture perfectly suited to her body type. In a word, a genius.
On the other hand, the blonde girl’s stance was crude. Foot placement, the resulting distribution of sword and body weight, securing her field of vision, protecting vital points—everything relied on instinct. It was improvised.
It was impossible to casually judge whose skill was superior. However, if one were to evaluate pure proficiency, the silver-haired girl was far ahead.
“You still don’t know your place. Fine. Come at me.”
“…I will win.”
Rustila charged forward, leaving a long afterimage of her ponytail.
“Huuuam.”
Just as the fierce battle was about to begin, a voice that shattered Instructor Clark’s focus gently brushed against his ear. Clark turned around.
There, a boy was lying horizontally on a bench, lazily flipping through a stack of papers.
“…Hey, student. Your name was Idel, right?”
“Yeees.”
“Why are you doing that by yourself?”
The boy, Idel, rolled his eyes like a flatfish and answered.
“Because twenty-five divided by two leaves a remainder of one.”
It was an incredibly abstract answer, but the instructor understood it instantly.