Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Demon Hunt (2)
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Agnes's face came into view.
She wore a rare expression of surprise.
It was all because the protagonist's strike had been that astonishing.
"Lee Han... is the victor."
Professor Ardin announced the result of the duel, barely concealing the tremor in his voice.
Lee Han bowed his head to the B Class spear wielder, showing respect to the defeated.
The spear wielder showed no resentment or inferiority despite his loss.
Just a touch of awe... and fear.
Nothing more.
I checked the sword of the protagonist as he returned to his seat.
The blunt iron sword issued by the academy.
It had been intentionally designed that way to prevent serious accidents during spars.
Yet the protagonist had sliced through a spear shaft with it.
That was possible only because of the protagonist's unique swordsmanship.
Thrust, swing, block—the basics of swordsmanship.
Whether divided into swift strikes or variable forms, all sword styles boiled down to these three.
In other words, if you couldn't thrust, swing, or block, swordsmanship had no meaning.
That's why countless instructors, when teaching swordsmanship, always started with physical conditioning and horizontal slashes.
Because that was the orthodox way.
Swordsmanship couldn't exist without them.
In that regard, Lee Han was a bit unusual.
He always wanted to advance beyond the basic stance.
For example, Agnes followed a path that fused her sword with magic.
Using spells to cover the sword's shortcomings in range and area.
Later, Erina—who would become the Sword Saint—also mastered her own style.
Composed solely of basics, yet breaking free from their rigid frame.
Her own sword.
Lee Han was different.
His sword was trapped within the frame.
He never strayed from the basics.
With sword in hand, he thrust, slashed, and parried.
Repeating those simple motions endlessly.
Without pause or variation.
What enabled those attacks was overwhelming power.
The hero's innate talent.
When he thrust, it shot forward faster than a flash of light; when he swung, it carried the weight of a mountain.
And his blocks were harder than diamond.
With that alone, Lee Han emerged victorious.
Because he was the hero.
'That won't do.'
Such monotonous attacks wouldn't kill the bosses he'd face later.
Least of all the Demon King.
The hero's power was merely a tool.
Its true value shone only when the wielder mastered it.
"What... was that?"
Regardless, it was enough to cause a stir.
That single thrust had been flawlessly clean.
The students—and even Professor Ardin—must have gained something from witnessing it.
Agnes shot to her feet, her face full of admiration.
Since she was blocking my view, I furrowed my brow and said,
"Sit down, Agnes. Don't get carried away."
"Didn't you see that just now, Lord Deron?"
"I did. So what?"
"... "
She seemed utterly enchanted.
Well, who could blame her? That power was mesmerizing.
People didn't call him a hero for nothing.
Still, Agnes veering off her proper path would be a problem.
That was a road meant for the protagonist, blessed with the hero's power.
Agnes needed to walk her own path.
...To that end, maybe I should change her thinking a bit.
"I can understand why you're impressed. It was a clean strike, no doubt. As a swordsman first and a student second, I have to acknowledge it."
"Then why are you so unimpressed?"
"Because it's a sword I can't imitate."
Agnes's eyes widened round.
Not so much at the words themselves, but that I had said them.
But what could I do? It was the truth.
"No technique, no feints. Just a thrust. That's it."
Yet there was one reason Lee Han's attack landed so solidly.
"Overwhelming power. I don't know where it comes from, but it makes that strike possible."
The immense strength granted by his status as the hero.
I was probably the only one here who knew Lee Han was the hero.
How could anyone know a fact even the person himself was unaware of?
Lee Han himself didn't know he was the hero; he just assumed it was his natural gift.
"Only a monster could do that. Not a human. And I have neither the desire nor the means to imitate a monster's sword."
I'd spoken quietly, but it seemed others heard me too.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
But there was no helping it.
The hero truly was a monster.
You could tell just from that one strike.
If Agnes got inspired by that sword and practiced just one technique obsessively, she'd be doomed.
Her sword's meaning lay in its flashy flair, blended with magic.
"Next, Agnes!"
With Lee Han's duel over, it was Agnes's turn.
I tossed a word her way as she rose and headed to the training ground.
"Ignore other people's swords and swing your own."
She looked a bit stiff.
Lee Han's sword seemed to flicker in her mind, so I offered advice.
Fortunately, her tense expression softened a little.
Agnes gave a slight nod and said she'd be back.
**
"Ignore other people's swords and swing your own."
Agnes flinched inwardly.
That advice pierced right through her heart.
'What are you, exactly...?'
She'd been bothered by Lee Han's sword deep down.
Yet he'd noticed and pinpointed it perfectly.
Agnes found Deron utterly baffling.
Still, hearing those words eased her turmoil somewhat.
Agnes drew a blunt sword from the rack on the training ground.
A sparring iron sword with no proper edge and a rounded tip, rendering it nearly harmless.
Enough to knock someone out, though.
Lee Han's sword flickered before her eyes, but Deron's words overlapped and scattered it.
Agnes bit her lip to focus on her opponent.
A twinge of pain sharpened her view of the enemy's weapon.
The same type as hers, but slightly shorter with edges on one side only—dual swords.
B Class had dual wielders too, huh.
"Iphin."
"Agnes."
"Duel begins!"
A brief introduction, then Professor Ardin's shout rang out.
At once, Iphin moved first.
Silent steps that made no sound.
Fast, but slow compared to Deron or the Ink Scale Blood Serpent.
A speed she could easily handle.
Clang!
She parried the strike by raising her sword, then circulated the mana in her body.
The air around her chilled.
Frost breath escaped her lips as the training ground floor turned to ice.
"Urk!"
Iphin hesitated at the sudden change in footing and stomped the ground.
He couldn't move properly on the slippery ice.
She'd laid the Icicle Field anticipating that.
Agnes charged at Iphin, mana infused in her feet.
It wouldn't slip her because it was her magic.
A frosty afterimage trailed her sword path.
However.
There was something Agnes had overlooked.
Clang!
She hadn't fully considered the dual swords.
Two blades, shorter than standard but swift and suited for combos.
Iphin raised his right sword to block Agnes's, then swung the left.
Slash.
Caught off guard, Agnes twisted away in panic.
She didn't dodge completely; a stinging pain flared in her thigh.
"...?"
It hurt, but not enough to worry about.
Agnes gripped her sword tighter. A mistake from facing dual swords for the first time.
And mistakes happen only once.
Iphin grinned and backed away, creating distance.
She ground her teeth and poured mana into the floor.
Sharp icicles began protruding from the ice field.
Weapons sharpened by devouring her mana.
Agnes controlled her mana to hurl them at Iphin.
Clang, clang!
Iphin blocked the icicles with his dual swords, then stomped hard.
The field shattered, sending ice shards flying.
He stomped repeatedly, aura in his feet. The ice couldn't withstand it and crumbled.
'Something feels off.'
Something welled up near her grazed thigh.
A mere graze shouldn't affect her like this.
The ice shards blurred in her vision.
Nausea rose, her surroundings spinning.
A sickening sensation she'd never felt before.
"Gah, hack!"
Agnes felt her breath catch. Her throat seemed blocked; air wouldn't come.
She coughed dryly.
No blood like Deron, but her condition had been perfect moments ago.
She couldn't fathom why this was happening.
Her vision spun, her body heavy.
She barely supported herself with her sword.
Her gaze drifted to her thigh.
The cut flesh was turning black.
"Poison..."
Only then did Agnes realize the opponent's sword had been coated in it.
She glared at Iphin, who smirked as if to say, Finally figured it out?
Rage boiled in her mind.
Using poison in a duel and laughing about it?
She could call out to Professor Ardin right now about the poison.
But Agnes said nothing and gripped her sword harder instead.
Coating it so blatantly meant he was confident he wouldn't be punished.
Besides, tattling to the professor would be as good as admitting defeat.
At least one solid hit.
She wanted to land at least one.
Agnes thought that as she steadied her trembling hand on the hilt.
Iphin didn't rush in. He held the training sword in his right, hiding the left, and approached slowly.
No strategy in her head. She couldn't think or execute one.
Iphin showed no caution toward Agnes.
He sauntered toward her like he was out for a stroll.
"Frozen stiff?"
Sword pointed forward, that's what Iphin said.
Agnes didn't reply, focusing solely on his movements.
As he entered her range, she shoved his sword aside and stepped forward.
Crack!
Centered on her foot, an icy world unfurled.
Within it, Agnes slammed into Iphin bodily.
"Kuhk!"
Iphin slid back, pushed by the ice.
No major injury, but fury twisted his face.
Humiliating to be hit like that by someone he'd poisoned.
However.
Agnes thought.
'I want to win.'
Even under these unfair conditions, she wanted victory.
To crave it, seize it.
Like Deron Phillasia had.
She desired victory.
Agnes's blue eyes flashed. Iphin closed in, his enraged dual swords surely still poisoned.
Another hit could be fatal.
Mental fortitude had limits.
Agnes was already on the verge of collapse.
Even so.
She gripped her sword.
Proudly.
Thud!
As if done indulging her, Iphin closed the gap, lowered his stance, and swung his dual swords.
Clang!
The blades lodged in ice.
"What the hell?!"
Iphin grunted, still in his charge pose, struggling to free his half-buried swords.
Agnes looked down at him impassively.
Her heart chilled, mana spreading through frozen exaltation.
The Ice Empress, who would freeze and blanket the world.
The Empress stared silently at the one who had touched her body and murmured.
"Icicle Knight."
⟨ Icicle Knight ⟩
From the ice-covered world sprang the Empress's knights.
The heavily armored ice knights forgave not the one who dared touch their lord.
Thud!
Grabbing his hair, they slammed him into the ground.
Thud!
"Guh!"
Thud!
"Hack!"
In an instant, the training ground floor was stained with ice and blood, and Iphin lay unconscious.
What those present witnessed.
Was the Empress, wearing a brutally calm, icily detached expression.