Chapter 6
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Defeat
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The blessed house, Evans. The kingdom's sole 'Duke house'.
Ten years ago, when the revelation came down from the church, everyone said the same thing.
「If a Hero emerges, it will be from the Evans family.」
A Blessed One could never be mass-produced—that was common knowledge in this world.
Since they existed solely as gifts from the gods, it was never commonplace for two or more Blessed Ones to come from a single house.
Yet the Evans family had produced more than ten so far.
Truly a house blessed by the divine.
And Sera was the Evans family's thirteenth Blessed One.
"Sera, your mother believes in you."
"I believe in myself too, Mother."
It was five years ago, the day the first revelation descended.
The eyes of the entire house fixed on fifteen-year-old Sera.
Sera didn't find those gazes heavy at all.
She thought they were pointless. Even without their expectations, she was confident she could handle it herself.
The finest house.
The highest quality education.
Flawlessly talented parents to boot.
Sera Evans had fully absorbed it all as a genius, so it was no wonder she was convinced she herself would become the Hero.
"Please take good care of me!"
That was probably why.
Sera's personality had formed into one of extreme arrogance, and she struggled to deal with anyone inferior to her.
"Why don't you just forfeit?"
Why even try?
Why cling to hope?
The world was unfair. The victor was predetermined.
Setting goals when defeat was inevitable grated on Sera terribly.
─Sera. It's good to be confident, but you must never grow arrogant.
─There are monsters in this world that you haven't yet seen.
Her mother's words suddenly surfaced, but Sera rejected them.
I can't agree, Mother.
There are no beings superior to me in this world.
The ranking exam was just a minor hassle—I could have taken first place with ease.
Every Blessed One combined still falls short of me.
This Academy is worthless.
Expel all the cadets and leave me here alone for training—that's how it should be.
Watching these unqualified losers is exhausting now.
Especially this one.
What was her name again? Whatever.
The 'blonde loser' was the person Sera despised most in the Academy.
"I don't want to be lumped in with trash like you."
No trace of talent, not even awakened her blessing.
Swordplay was abysmal, and it was doubtful she even grasped the concept of mana properly.
For trash like this to be a 'Hero candidate' alongside me? It's an insult.
So, since we'd crossed paths, she crushed her spirit.
Clinging to this path was pointless anyway, right?
She was just helping her drop out sooner—she ought to be grateful.
But.
"Scared?"
The blonde didn't back down.
Provoking me?
Me?
You, who got utterly crushed in the ranking exam?
'Is she insane?'
The gap between grades was already vast, and the one between the blonde and Sera spanned a full four ranks.
An ant charging solo at a human. No fluke could overcome that.
"......Ha."
Sera was furious.
But she also saw it as a golden opportunity.
Gather as many students as possible and publicly demolish this fool.
Instill terror.
Make sure she never climbs back up.
No—make sure she never even sets foot here.
Then warn the onlookers too.
You lot have no potential, so scram.
So she accepted.
The utterly lopsided duel where one side's odds were zero.
Duel day arrived.
Most professors tried to stop it, but one alone permitted it.
Professor Patrick.
She remembered him as the rule-stickler with zero interest in cadets.
His rigid inflexibility proved useful now.
Under Professor Patrick's supervision, the duel proceeded smoothly.
As start time arrived, the chattering cadets fell silent.
They called over the blonde, who had been stretching alone in the corner. That was when she learned her name.
Roel Griffith. From some unheard-of house.
"Didn't run away?"
"Of course not. I'm going to win."
Her scared face twisting into provocation was utterly pathetic.
"One."
As the count began, Sera drew mana from within her body.
End it the instant it starts.
No need for her blessing.
Overwhelm with pure skill and knock her out in one strike.
"Two."
Still, challenging her to a duel meant she had some trick up her sleeve.
......Nothing visible yet.
"Three."
Didn't matter.
The side unable even to deploy their trick would sink into deeper despair.
I'll force her to drop out.
"Begin."
She exploded her lower body's power in a single step.
Her mana-reinforced flesh cracked the floor ever so slightly as it shot forward.
At the same time, she drew her sword. Not a standard longsword, but a long sword infused with eastern craftsmanship.
Second step.
She arrived before Roel Griffith, who hadn't even reacted.
She spun the gripped sword 180 degrees and slashed from below upward.
Thwack.
The flat of the blade struck dead center on her jaw.
Roel's head snapped back. The strength drained from her entire body—it was visible to the eye.
Thud.
"......Pathetic."
Sera muttered as she gazed at the fallen Roel.
In the end, no real means to beat her.
'Didn't even need to bring a sword.'
She sheathed her blade.
Ignoring the collapsed Roel, she approached Professor Patrick.
Professor Patrick declared the victor with a flat expression.
"......Duel over. Winner, Sera."
She wasn't especially thrilled.
Of course not. Nobody cheers after squashing an ant.
"Knew it."
"What gave her that confidence?"
"Beats me. Hilarious, though."
Only the fellow ants jeered in delight at Sera's victory.
"Stupid Roel."
Sera turned to them.
"What makes you any different?"
The sharp barbs once aimed at Roel now targeted them.
"I'll say it plain: you're all the same garbage. Drop out with her tomorrow. The Hero will be—"
That was when it happened.
"......?"
Cold sweat began beading in her palm.
"B-behind..."
Sera whirled around at the words.
There stood Roel.
As if nothing had happened, gripping a wooden sword.
Sera said nothing.
More precisely...
"......Hic."
She could do nothing.
Thump.
Thump.
Her heart pounded wildly.
She couldn't control her breathing.
Her legs grew steadily weaker.
'Gonna... hurl...'
Sera began to stagger.
Her stomach roiled violently, and her legs finally gave out.
She collapsed. Right there in front of everyone.
"Haa, haa......"
Sera realized it then.
This was terror. Terror of a 'monster' her brain refused to process.
"Haa, ha, ugh, urp."
She barely held back the vomit.
Drenched in cold sweat, she stabbed her sword into the ground and barely hauled herself up.
And she thought.
'That' thing wasn't Roel.
"Hello, Sera Evans."
That gaze—impossible to believe belonged to Roel—pierced straight into her.
The air itself grew heavy. The weighted air crushed down on her body relentlessly.
"U, uu......"
It felt like she was being squashed.
An incomprehensible sensation dominated her entire body.
Just meeting eyes was this intense.
Her survival instincts screamed.
Run now—all her senses demanded it.
But she wouldn't.
When facing terror, the elite never fled.
Sera gripped her sword tightly.
As her resolve hardened, her 'blessing' enveloped her body protectively.
As if promising to stand with her, it lent her its power.
The calming sensation let her overcome the fear somewhat.
Right—no way she couldn't win.
If that really was Roel Griffith, she had to be weaker than Sera...
"......Here I go."
Sera didn't know.
That her very judgment was already shattered.
"Uwaaaah!!"
She let out a battle cry and charged.
She vaguely heard Professor Patrick trying to stop her, but ignored it.
Sera Evans' awakened blessing—Swiftness.
A terrifying speed no eye could possibly track.
She swiftly drew her sword and thrust at Roel's abdomen.
"......Ah."
The next instant, Sera's sword was broken.
No clue when it had snapped.
One thing was certain.
The broken shard was clutched in Roel's hand.
"Fast."
Roel gave that appraisal of Sera's speed, then moved her wooden sword.
Thump.
Thump.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump—
The alarm blared once more.
All her senses detected death this time.
Her mind buzzed noisily. It urged her to flee.
Her legs had frozen solid; she couldn't.
The wooden sword swung from below upward.
It didn't touch Sera. It had deliberately missed.
Kwaaaaaaaa!!
It was Cleave. The pinnacle technique achievable only by master swordsmen.
The training ground floor shattered hideously, dirt erupting in all directions.
Along the sword's path, the wall and ceiling were sliced clean through.
Thud.
Sera's eyes rolled back as she lost consciousness.
It hadn't even touched her—just the aura alone was enough to shatter her mind.
Her head slammed into the sand.
Warm liquid trickled between Sera's legs.
An irrefutable defeat for Sera Evans.
"Heok."
Roel opened her eyes on the bed.
The first memory to surface was of the duel just beginning.
"......I lost, huh."
This memory meant one thing.
Defeat at the very start.
Our brains don't record the moment of knockout, after all.
Her body definitely ached all over.
Even moving one arm was a struggle...
No, even so—was it this bad?
Did they trample me while I was out?
─You overdid it. Your training kept it from being worse.
"Ah, Demon."
As she stretched with a sullen pout, a welcome voice rang out.
Roel brightened instantly and asked the Demon.
"Overdid it?"
─Ah, no memory, huh? Just take it at face value.
It was baffling.
I blacked out at the start—how'd I overdo it?
Roel stayed blank, so the Demon added,
─You won, Roel.
"What?!"
The utterly absurd claim made Roel blurt back reflexively.
"H-how?!"
─Too complicated to explain.
"Explain anyway!"
─Just head to school. You'll figure it out.
"Ah, just tell me! School's tomorrow anyway."
─It's today.
?
"Today?"
─A full day passed. Ten minutes left. Better hurry.
Roel froze.
So I'd been out a whole day?
And today was the first class...
"Crazy!!"
Roel scrambled to get ready for school.
Roel probably had no idea.
The kind of stares awaiting her at school today.