Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Spar with the Silver Knights
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◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Joshua Prallin had been a student at Previa Academy just four years ago.
It wasn't unusual for a successful former student to visit their mentor, but the timing of this visit was the problem.
Is he spying? No, that doesn't make sense.
A pro wouldn't scout an amateur just to observe practice.
Maybe he's just here to see his sister?
That was the most likely explanation, but the evidence was thin. There was no need to come during a crowded class time.
He could've waited until class ended and called her out then.
As Philip headed to the faculty office with Annis Prallin, he sensed the commotion inside and paused to gauge the atmosphere.
"Joshua Prallin returning to the academy? This is something. He doesn't have many fond memories here."
It was Chief Professor Emil Panoy's voice. Philip tilted his head, as the chief professor rarely visited the office.
"...I have unfinished business here. Chief Professor. If I can't overcome it, I'll be nothing."
This was a new voice. Its owner must be Joshua Prallin.
"That was seven years ago, Joshua. Was it really that traumatic?"
"You can't imagine, Professor. The helplessness and despair I felt back then changed me for the better, but left scars I can't erase. I'm here to face and conquer my fears."
Philip glanced at Annis upon hearing this.
Perhaps because she was from a merchant family, she was watching him carefully. Her expression asked why they weren't going in yet, so Philip smirked and knocked on the door.
"May I come in?"
The chief professor permitted immediately.
"It's your workplace. Why ask? Come in."
Inside the spacious faculty office were the chief professor and a young man in a white knight's uniform.
The other staff seemed busy with classes midway.
"Oppa?"
Annis Prallin called out in a teary voice, but oddly, the young man's gaze was fixed on Philip.
Why's he staring at me?
"Oppa!"
Only after Annis called again did Joshua Prallin look at his sister.
"Annis. My dear sister. I heard you were still in class, but you threw a tantrum again, huh?"
He opened his arms, and Annis Prallin dashed over, leaping into his embrace. Joshua stroked her hair, pressing his cheek to hers after so long apart.
"I couldn't bear it when I heard you were here..."
"You still should've held back."
Joshua set her down as he spoke. Annis hung her head with a sulky expression.
"Go back and prepare for class. Submit an outing pass after and meet me at the main gate."
"...Okay."
As Annis Prallin left dejectedly, Philip met Joshua's eyes. Suddenly, Joshua ground his teeth with a grinding sound.
"...You're Philip Oswald, right?"
"Yes, that's me."
Philip nodded. Joshua stepped forward a few paces.
"Of course you'd remember me?"
Philip thought for a moment before replying.
"Sorry, I don't really remember."
At that moment, he had a hunch. There seemed to be bad history between them.
Soon, Chief Professor Emil Panoy's hearty laughter boomed through the office.
"Hahat! Uhahaha! Exactly! The beater forgets, while the beaten one groans in agony for days."
Don't tell me...
Philip formed a hypothesis from the professor's words.
...Someone the old Philip beat up?
Maybe someone who fought the delinquent Philip back then or got thrashed by him.
Philip turned trembling eyes toward Joshua Prallin.
His breathing was ragged with rage, eyes bloodshot.
If he had a sword at his waist, he'd draw it any second.
"You... don't remember me? Nonsense. You got expelled because of what you did to me. Still pulling cheap tricks, just like before."
Lightning struck Philip's mind.
The senior two years ahead who got beaten half to death by Philip—that's him.
As the puzzle pieces clicked, Philip sighed inwardly.
Facing karma he didn't earn himself was more headache-inducing than expected.
I didn't do it, but I still feel bad.
"Wait. Now I remember. Joshua Prallin. I'm truly sorry about that. I shouldn't have gone that far."
The Philip who beat Joshua was gone; the current one had to bear it.
"Sorry? Yeah, you should be."
The young Silver Knight seemed to barely control his emotions, exhaling deeply.
Philip felt uneasy. It was a familiar scene.
"...I want to apologize too. I thought I'd overcome it, but seeing your face brought the anger rushing back. Truth is, I should thank you. You changed me completely."
Joshua Prallin gave a self-deprecating smile.
"Without that, I'd have lived in arrogance forever. But cutting my pants off? That I'll never forgive. I was a laughingstock for a while because of it."
Philip smiled awkwardly.
After that humiliation, how can he say this?
Joshua Prallin was undeniably magnanimous.
"I really am sorry."
At Philip's apology, Joshua bit his lip.
"I wanted to see you again before the exchange spar, Philip Oswald. Before I crush you in the match. You've changed quite a bit too."
"Time has passed, after all."
"...Yeah. Seven years is a long time."
Joshua bowed to Chief Professor Emil.
"I'll take my leave, Professor."
The chief professor waved dismissively.
"Do that."
As soon as Joshua left, the chief professor smirked at Philip.
"That guy couldn't even look you straight in the eye."
"Pardon?"
"Why do you think he came? He's anxious. Afraid he'll freeze up against you with a sword in hand, so he came to face you early."
Philip tilted his head.
"Did he say that?"
"Of course not. Cowards think alike. You wouldn't get it, though. Anyway, that fool tucked tail. We'll snag an easy win."
The chief professor, in high spirits, strode out briskly.
...Gotta prepare harder than I thought.
Philip resolved quietly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The exchange spar between Silver Knights and Previa Academy was a major event, but unfortunately not open to the public.
The academy didn't mind, but Silver Knights seemed wary of exposing their knights' prowess widely.
Thus, observers were limited to the dean and trusted professors from the academy, and the captain and commanders from Silver Knights.
In the swordsmanship training ground restricted to instructors and regular knights, Philip faced the Silver Knights.
"Long time no see, Chief Professor. Last time was five years ago, I think."
Payen Blusset, captain of Silver Knights and an Aura Master, greeted Chief Professor Emil warmly.
"Bringing active-duty guys to beat educators? You've gotten cocky while I wasn't looking."
The chief professor replied curtly, clearly displeased with the setup.
He'd accepted for pride, but knew the staff were at a disadvantage.
"How am I supposed to handle these youngsters? They whine without knowing better, and here we are. Since it's like this, let the young ones clash."
Payen Blusset was a middle-aged man with a light impression.
But like Professor Emil Panoy, he was a sword master who wielded Sword Beam; his knights wouldn't be weak.
"Who goes first? How about us old folks spar after so long?"
The chief professor asked slyly, but Payen Blusset laughed and waved it off.
"I've honed my sword on battlefields for twenty years. No confidence against you, who's rested ten. Losing obviously is for the young; not for old timers like me."
"You'll die of old age then. Beat me before you croak from decrepitude."
The chief professor provoked again, but he didn't bite.
"Wait another twenty years; your joints will ache too. Challenge then."
Philip felt his chest swell watching the childish banter between the over-sixty elders, glancing at Felicia beside him.
"...Embarrassing. Seriously."
She seemed to think the same.
"Professor Cumbel, you first? Elders go first in these things."
At the chief professor's call, waiting Professor Freizer Cumbel replied promptly.
"Yes, Chief Professor."
Payen Blusset pondered briefly and summoned a knight.
"Brian."
"Yes."
"Sir Cumbel hasn't fought in ages, so be careful not to hurt him."
"Understood, Captain."
The knight stepped forward. Blue epaulets on his uniform marked him as a squad leader.
"..."
Professor Cumbel said nothing, but the vein bulging at his temple showed his anger.
Few swordsmen enjoyed being called has-beens.
The chief professor instructed Professor Cumbel.
"Don't kill him."
Swallowing his rage, Professor Cumbel replied.
"...Got it."
As it was live blade sparring, both donned gear.
Silver Knight Brian wore silver breastplate, pauldrons, boots, and gauntlets; Professor Cumbel used his old golden set.
After checks, they faced off in the arena center with swords drawn.
"It's just a spar, so admit defeat cleanly when you think you've lost."
Both nodded at Payen Blusset's words.
"Begin."
Professor Cumbel attacked first at the signal.
A thrust to the left chest. Brian twisted away, but the tip caught the strap of his pauldron, loosening it.
One piece of gear gone in a single exchange.
It looked accidental, but Philip knew: he'd anticipated the dodge.
"Hup."
Knight Brian's eyebrows twitched in surprise. Professor Cumbel pressed on.
His Sword Aura-clad blade tore through the space between them repeatedly.
Brian countered with Sword Aura, heavy clashes booming each clash.
...Impressive.
Philip admired Professor Cumbel. His moves were one step ahead of Brian's.
It should've ended quickly, but Brian remarkably reacted to nearly every attack.
He's not blocking knowingly—he's sensing it.
Whether innate or trained, Brian's crisis sense was superhuman. His reflexes and physicality even surpassed Professor Cumbel's.
Dozens of exchanges followed.
"Huuuup!"
Realizing stamina would lose it, Professor Cumbel drew on his aura. He hated to admit it, but two weeks of training hadn't restored his old endurance.
Time for a gamble.
In a split second, Professor Cumbel's sword tip flickered multiple times.
Brian knew the next was a thrust.
But where? His training prepared for any target, but this felt different.
The tip whispered arm, shoulder screamed chest, feet and hips swore legs.
Conflicting info from all cues; the young knight closed his eyes.
Trusting the feel from slicing demons in darkness.
The match decided in the next breath.
"...I lost."
Professor Cumbel raised his hand in defeat.
Victory to Knight Brian.
His sword at Professor Cumbel's solar plexus; the professor's had only grazed Brian's thigh.
"Tch, come back."
The chief professor clicked his tongue, calling Professor Cumbel.
"You did enough; no complaints. Bad luck. That knight couldn't read you—got lucky."
"Agreed, Professor. But how do you judge without luck?"
"Shut it, Payen. Unless you want me to half-cripple your knight next."
The Silver Knights captain knew Emil Panoy meant it, so he zipped it.
"You're next, Instructor Oswald."
Philip, watching, sighed at the call. He didn't want to fight in this mood.
Wanted to after winning one.
"Yes, Professor."
No choice. Philip slowly loosened up, preparing.
The past two weeks' prep was solid. Whether it'd work? Only crossing blades would tell.