Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Sparring (2)
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Following Arien to the academy's training grounds, I found students lined up and waiting.
The vast space was divided into sections for all sorts of training.
Some were simply swinging swords, while others tested newly learned spells.
Everyone was pushing themselves to grow stronger, each in their own way.
"Hahaha! Not bad, Lian. Shields are great, but how about trying some hand-to-hand?"
"Hmm... I'm not sure yet."
A distant thud! made me turn my head.
There was Lian sprawled flat on his back, with Lucas laughing heartily beside him.
'What, were they wrestling or something...?'
It seemed the quintessential bare-knuckle brawler, Lucas, was teaching Lian some moves.
'Lucas really does have that romantic flair.'
Despite his family's objections, he'd insisted on forging his own path with nothing but his fists.
Even though punches fell short in reach, power, and safety compared to a sword.
When Lucas's father—a knight who'd once made a name for himself—had demanded to know why the obsession with fists,
-"Hey, you brat! Why only fists, huh?!"
-"Hahaha! Father! Because a real man lives by romance and dies by romance!"
It was a bittersweet tale that nearly gave the old man a heart attack.
But after the Demon King was defeated, word spread that Lucas had pummeled demons barehanded—and more than anyone, his father beamed with pride, finally acknowledging his son.
"What're you doing? Hurry up."
While I was distracted watching Lucas, Arien's voice called out to me.
He was frowning, clearly uncomfortable in the crowd.
Without waiting in line like the other students, he kept pushing forward.
Before I could even wonder why, I followed—and soon, a row of individual training rooms came into view.
'I'd heard S-Class students get their own private rooms...'
This was my first time actually visiting one.
In the game, I'd just click the "Train" button. No need to come here.
Anyway. Glancing around, I spotted someone approaching us from afar.
A man whose sturdy, well-balanced physique exuded strength, but whose face was etched with exhaustion.
"Well, if it isn't Arien. Here to use the training room? And who's this new face beside you?"
"I'm Rowen. I came to spar with Arien."
This was Professor Matteo, who'd taken over as S-Class homeroom teacher in Serin's absence.
As their advisor, he must have been stationed here.
"Sparring, huh. Even if you're from A-Class, Rowen, you won't stand a chance against the top student."
"Actually, I'm not from A-Class."
Professor Matteo furrowed his brow, as if he'd misheard.
Well, no surprise. There wasn't anyone currently who could give Arien a proper spar.
Not even Estelle, who held second place.
So dragging in some unknown student must have caught him off guard.
"Hm. No Rowen on the S-Class roster. You weren't skipping classes or anything, were you?"
"No, sir."
His expression soured further as he muttered, 'Not S-Class or A-Class...?'
"Then... B-Class?"
"Sorry, no."
"...C-Class?"
"...No."
"Then it must be D..."
As I kept shattering his assumptions, dropping lower each time, Professor Matteo's eyes widened in confusion. He suddenly glared at Arien.
"Arien. Care to explain what's going on here?"
"Well, it's..."
"This isn't what I think it is, is it?"
He probably suspected it was one of those cases where someone used "sparring" as an excuse to bully weaker students.
'No malice on his part, though.'
With his strong sense of duty to guide every student right, Professor Matteo was just worried Arien might be veering off course.
"Professor Matteo. Arien's not like that. He's actually close friends with me, for starters."
"...What?"
"He offered to help me with some guidance sparring."
He hadn't expected me—the one involved—to defend him. The professor looked puzzled.
'Arien seemed pretty flustered too.'
He was hesitating, eyes trembling, clearly unprepared for this.
I had to step in and clear up the misunderstanding.
Once I explained everything, he realized his error and looked apologetic.
"I'm truly sorry, Arien. Spending too much time on the battlefield... I've got this bad habit of jumping to conclusions. Can't seem to shake it."
"..."
"It's entirely my fault—no excuses. Let me apologize again."
"...It's fine."
Thankfully, the misunderstanding cleared up quickly, and Professor Matteo's apology wrapped things up.
But Arien still hadn't relaxed; his hands were trembling slightly.
"Arien. You okay?"
"...Yeah.."
"I should've spoken up sooner. Sorry for the needless hassle."
"I said it's fine...!"
As I spoke to him, he finally started to calm down, his rigid posture loosening bit by bit.
Though what was there to snap about?
He seemed to realize his slip-up mid-sentence, a flash of panic crossing his face.
Well, he wasn't used to situations like this, always being so prickly.
Not used to receiving apologies, period.
The more I thought about it, the more his reaction made sense—and the more I pitied him.
"Alright. Head on into the training room."
He looked like he had something to say, lips twitching.
But Professor Matteo ushered us along, so whatever it was went unsaid.
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"Grab whatever weapons you like and warm up. If you need specific gear, just say so."
The private training room was surprisingly spacious and comfortable.
Fitness equipment, rest areas, even a dedicated sparring arena.
Not as packed with artifacts as Serin's personal room, but the walls were lined with high-quality weapons at a glance.
◆[Training Sword] A high-quality sword forged by a skilled blacksmith.
Grabbing one that looked just right, I instantly understood its description.
Nothing special ability-wise, but it was light yet sturdy, with perfect balance.
"Once you're ready, step into the arena. I'll activate the barrier, then we'll begin."
Arien had picked a suitable sword too, swinging it a few times before heading to the arena.
Step, step.
As I walked to the arena, I couldn't quell the tension building inside.
'Sparring with Arien, of all people.'
A duel with no one less than this world's protagonist.
Sparring Serin had taught me plenty, but he'd felt like an insurmountable wall.
Arien would still outclass me by miles, of course.
But if I gave it everything I had, I'd at least know where I stood here.
And amid the nerves, a subtle thrill stirred.
'So this is what it feels like to be the Hero's rival.'
As the man destined to be his rival, I felt a strange welcoming excitement at meeting my worthy opponent.
"Hoo..."
"..."
At the arena's edge, staring at Arien, I took a deep breath to loosen up.
He waited with a sullen expression.
Seeing it somehow eased my tension, and a laugh slipped out before I knew it.
"Let's have a good one, Arien."
"...You too. Rowen."
⚔ STATUS ⚔
[Arien Cravel]
◆ Title: Hero
◆ Stats
⚡ Strength: 51
💨 Agility: 53
💪 Vitality: 49
✨ Mana: 55
◆ Traits
[Swordsmanship Lv. 6]
◆ Skills
- [View Details]
◆ Unique Traits
[S: Insightful Gaze]
[S: Heightened Senses]
Just before the spar began, a translucent window appeared as I looked at Arien.
No wonder he's top of the class.
I'd worried he might not have grown properly, but that was unnecessary.
His stats were unbelievable for someone who'd been at the academy less than a week.
He was living up to the title of greatest Hero in history with overwhelming specs.
"Give it everything you've got, Rowen. I won't hold back."
As he gripped his sword and assumed his stance, an overwhelming aura—different from Serin's—radiated from him.
'...This won't be easy.'
I knew full well I couldn't win...
Yet a smile crept across my lips anyway.
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