Model Student of the One-Eyed Country (2)
"What did you just say?"
"I said let's throw down, you idiot."
The face of the guy whose name was either Caspar or Castella went blank with shock. But little by little, the meaning of my words sank in. His expression twisted into something vicious, and then he exploded.
Shing.
"You bastard!"
"Stop! Have you lost your mind?!"
Another student who appeared to be his acquaintance stepped in to block the sword being drawn from the sheath at his waist. Caspar shouted with bloodshot eyes.
"Let go of me right now! Didn't you hear that rude bastard dare to insult me?!"
"I told you to calm down! Have you forgotten where we are? Look around!"
Only then did Caspar's movements freeze, as if he had finally noticed the other students whispering around us. If these had been mere street spectators, he probably would have sneered and ignored them. But the academy was full of high-ranking nobles and even actual royalty—people who were treated like kings back in their family territories. Since he was the type to act out purely because he believed his status was higher than someone else's, he had no choice but to be cautious in front of students of superior rank.
And naturally, witnessing that two-faced behavior made my mood even worse.
Once the rampaging Caspar had settled down, the male student who looked to be in his mid-twenties let out a sigh and turned to me.
"Sorry about that. It seems my friend got a little heated. I'll make sure nothing like this happens again, so could you let it slide?"
I was mildly impressed that he would bow his head to someone both younger and of lower status. Whether it was genuine or an act for the surrounding eyes, compared to the wild boar beside him it was positively mature. If I was going to clash with someone, I would rather it be a guy like this, I thought as I opened my mouth.
"Please raise your head. This isn't something that requires an apology."
His expression brightened, thinking we could communicate. Of course, you always have to listen to people until the very end.
"If an apology is needed, the person who actually committed the offense should deliver it. What meaning is there in someone else apologizing on their behalf?"
Watching his friend bow, Caspar's already crumpled face twisted even further, and the student who had offered the apology darkened as well. They had instinctively realized what would come next.
He said, "I understand that my friend's words must have sounded insulting to you. But anyone can make mistakes in the heat of youth, can't they? Why don't we just let this pass amicably?"
"Yes, anyone can make a 'mistake.' But the one who should take responsibility for it is the person himself. What meaning is there in the actual offender staying silent while others apologize for him?"
"Look here."
"Ah," I said, clapping my hands together. "Now that I think about it, there are cases where that's acceptable. When a little kid who doesn't know anything about the world and can't take care of himself causes an accident, it's the guardian who has to apologize."
Treated as a child who needed a guardian in the span of a single sentence, Caspar roughly shoved aside the friend blocking him and stepped forward. The friend, realizing he could no longer hold him back, simply shook his head with a gloomy expression.
Caspar growled, "You're throwing away even your only path to survival with your own hands."
I answered with a sullen look. "We'll have to see who exactly threw what away."
Caspar's face flushed with rage once more, but conscious of the onlookers, he didn't immediately swing his sword this time.
"One hour from now. Come to the training clearing on the western side of the academy. You said with your own mouth that you wanted to fight, so you won't run away, right?"
The reactions were varied. Some students simply gossiped about it as an interesting topic. Others who had heard about my provocation toward Caspar called it rude, while still others thought I was being reckless. A rare few who had caught Caspar's abusive language insisted he was more at fault, but even they lamented that my response had been clouded by anger and poor judgment.
In a way, it was only natural. Formal classes had only begun a week ago. The martial arts curriculum was still focused on basic physical conditioning. The magic curriculum was devoted to understanding the properties of mana and the fundamental structure of spells. Neither side had begun proper training in actual mana usage yet, which meant the students' current abilities weren't much different from what they had been before enrollment.
Caspar, already in his mid-twenties and trained by a knight family, versus me, the minimum-age enrollee who had grown up sheltered in a merchant household. Anyone could see who held the advantage.
That was why the students who saw the two of us facing each other in the clearing whispered among themselves.
"Wow, he actually showed up. No fear at all."
"He just doesn't know his place. They say the Midas family treated commoners viciously wherever their influence reached. Guess he never fixed that habit."
"Don't be so harsh. At least he didn't run away and came out with his head high."
"More importantly, shouldn't someone stop this? Is it even allowed to have a private duel inside the academy?"
The students who remembered my performance during the entrance exam focused on a slightly different detail.
"Wasn't Midas's weapon a crossbow? Why are they both holding wooden swords?"
"Time was short, so he probably couldn't prepare proper arrows. You can't use real arrows in a duel. Unlike swords or spears, once they're fired you can't stop them midway."
"...Does someone who cares about that use poison during the entrance exam?"
"...Good question."
"Before any of that, why did we have to fight for our lives just to enter a place meant for studying?"
"Beats me."
While some students wrestled with that fundamental question, Loto was making a fuss to Ligret and the others.
"L-Ligret! Shouldn't we stop this even now? The size difference is huge, he can't use his usual weapon, and it's way too disadvantageous!"
Crow, listening from the side, cut in. "Don't talk nonsense. The situation has blown up this much. If he suddenly tucks his tail and runs now, his academy life is over. Better to take a few hits and lose fair and square than that."
Akasha continued, "Fiore, what is your brother thinking? He didn't seem like the type to do something this reckless."
Fiore answered, "I'm not sure. It looks like things went differently from his original plan, but I don't know what he's thinking right now either."
Pino said, "The surrounding reactions are about thirty percent saying Chrome was wrong, ten percent saying that noble Caspar was wrong, and the rest are neutral."
Rabaul frowned. "To think they consider Lord Chrome more at fault than a man who arbitrarily inserts himself into another's relationships, obstructs them, and tries to suppress them with violence. I cannot comprehend it."
Rabaul's words sounded reasonable at first glance, but in truth this was largely because of my ambiguous position. The Hundert family wasn't particularly distinguished, but they were still nobles of the most powerful empire among many nations. Many noble-born students naturally felt antipathy toward a commoner like me provoking one of their own. On the other hand, from the commoner students' perspective, I wasn't charming enough to warrant their support. First impressions occupy a large part of people's judgment, and students who didn't know me personally couldn't help being influenced by the bad rumors about the Midas family. Whatever image I showed in this duel would solidify that vague impression even further.
"......"
Ignoring the surrounding chatter with one ear, Ligret stared fixedly at the two of us standing in the center of the clearing.
Caspar opened his mouth with a sneer. "I'll at least acknowledge that you didn't run away and actually showed up."
He looked far more relaxed than before, largely because he could feel that public opinion was not at all unfavorable toward him. If the earlier Caspar had been a rude bastard who drew his real sword on a mere commoner's provocation, the current him was a noble representative delivering a stinging lesson to an insolent opponent who didn't know his place. It hadn't been planned from the start, but inwardly he was quite pleased with how things had turned out.
Caspar lifted his chin arrogantly. "Even now, if you kneel and beg for mercy, I can generously forgive you. The outcome is obvious, and I have no particular desire to bully the weak."
Of course, he wasn't actually showing consideration for me. It was pure performance to show those around him that he was being merciful.
I let out a small laugh. "Enough talk. Let's just start."
"...Ha! Arrogant to the end."
The attitude that had irritated him so much earlier now seemed merely laughable to the current Caspar. He even felt relieved that I wasn't backing down easily. The sin of the insect before his eyes was far too heavy to be settled with a few words.
Don't think I'll finish this quickly. I'll crush you thoroughly, step by step.
Caspar took one step forward and raised his wooden sword. The opening strike that signaled the start of the execution swung toward me.
Thud!
A dull sound rang out. Beyond the wooden sword that struck my right shoulder, the tingling impact transmitted through his palm made him smile reflexively—and—
"Are you done?"
The indifferent eyes gazing at him through the golden monocle made Caspar's own eyes bulge.
My empty left palm slapped his right cheek with full force.
Or rather, smacked it.
SLAAAAAP!
With a terrifying sound, Caspar's head snapped violently in the opposite direction and he staggered backward. In the sudden silence that fell over the spectators—as if the previous commotion had been a lie—only Ligret muttered quietly.
"...That's what happens when you poke a guy who's hiding how nasty his temper really is."