Chapter 120: Heterogeneous Species (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 120: Heterogeneous Species (2)
After listening to the Minor Sword Emperor’s lament, I decided to check Daisy’s track record.
Surprisingly, there were people who kept track of individual students' records, so the search was relatively easy.
“Certainly…”
Her head-to-head record: 29 wins, 4 losses.
It was a terrifying win rate.
…Or so I thought, until I discovered a startling secret hidden within Daisy’s stats.
Daisy (Swordsman): 29 wins, 4 losses.
Note the parentheses: Swordsman.
Which meant…
Daisy (Mage): 22 wins, 5 losses.
That’s right.
Daisy’s records were split into two categories.
This allowed me to say with absolute certainty:
“This is proof that swordsmen are superior to mages.”
“What kind of nonsense is that…?”
The Fire Spammer muttered, her eyes flashing at my words.
But the truth remained unchanged.
“Her record as a mage is significantly worse.”
This was data accumulated by the RoFan heroine herself, putting her body on the line. What better evidence could there be?
“D-Daisy is in the Swordsmanship Department! Of course her swordsmanship record is better!”
The Fire Spammer tried to counter, but—
“Yeah, and she’s only been there for three months. Before that, she was all-in on magic.”
When I pointed out the 'Lifetime of Magic' vs. '3 Months as a Class-Changed Swordsman' comparison, she shut her mouth.
“Repeat after me: The sword is mightier than magic.”
“Magic is mightier than the sword…”
“This girl, seriously?”
If she had just gracefully accepted defeat, I wouldn't have gone this far. But since the Fire Spammer couldn't admit it, I finally had to say it.
“The top magic-spammer of the Magic Department got smoked by me in magic, didn't she?”
“Kyahhh!”
Reverting to her rabid dog state, the Fire Spammer yanked at her tie.
“It’s a duel!”
She was about to whip the tie at me when Uncle Aeryun snatched it out of the air.
“Do that later! That’s not what’s important right now!”
“It is important! This is something I must do on behalf of all mages of the past, present, and future!”
Bringing the past, present, and future into this?
“Hmm… is being a magic-spammer really that big of a deal?”
“Kyahhh!”
“Adam! Stop egging her on! We can’t hold the meeting!”
“I’m not egging her on…”
I was being sincere. I was just stating the facts as they were, so I felt a bit wronged.
After Uncle Aeryun’s desperate efforts to calm the Fire Spammer down…
“Grrrr…”
…Well, seeing as she started growling again the moment our eyes met, I guess he didn't succeed completely.
“I did some investigating after hearing that there’s a high probability of Dwarven royalty coming,” Uncle Aeryun said, ignoring the Fire Spammer as he got to the main point.
“……”
“Indeed, looking at it from that perspective… considering the tendencies of their race, I’ve been able to narrow down a few likely candidates.”
Uncle Aeryun let out a deep sigh before listing the primary suspects for admission.
“First, for the Dwarves… it’s almost certain. It’s Prince Alphonse, the one Adam mentioned. Unless someone the Empire’s intelligence doesn't know about pops up, or the Dwarven King suddenly becomes a dictator… there’s no one else likely to come but him.”
I had expected as much. I listened, taking it in stride.
“And as for the Elves, a High Elf…”
“Wait a second.”
“Why on earth would the Elves be crazy enough to send a High Elf?!”
A fierce protest erupted from the freshmen’s side at those words. Of course, it wasn't because the freshmen were ignorant. The existing club members likely felt the same way.
“Statistically, the probability is even higher than that of the Dwarven Prince.”
“On what grounds?”
“When I inquired with the Elves, they said so themselves…”
“…They just told you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't we know before?”
“They said they didn't think to tell us because we never asked.”
“……”
It was so absurd that, honestly, I probably would have assumed they wouldn't tell us either.
“And as for the Beastkin… they say they don't know.”
“What kind of nonsense is that now?”
“They haven't decided yet.”
“……?”
“Don't look at me like that. It literally means they haven't picked anyone. They said since they’re sending someone anyway, they’re holding a tournament to send their strongest warrior.”
I mean, why go to such lengths just for an Academy study abroad program?
“And then there’s the Dragonkin… we can’t get in touch with them.”
“Why?”
“Because we never could.”
Apparently, even the Imperial Intelligence Bureau has zero information on the Dragonkin.
“Then how did you hear they were coming?”
“The other races just mentioned that the Dragonkin were coming along with them. That’s it.”
“Aha.”
So, to summarize Uncle Aeryun’s report: a High Elf is confirmed. A Dwarven royal is almost certain. The Beastkin aren't sending royalty, but they are sending their strongest fighter. And for the Dragonkin, we only know that they’re showing up.
I see.
“Good luck with that.”
This time, I’m washing my hands of this.
“Wait! You’re dropping out just like that?”
“No matter how you look at it, dealing with other races is too much.”
This went beyond international relations; it could cause issues on a racial scale. Of course, if we could build a good relationship like we did with Bell, that would be great… but the moment things went sideways, it wouldn't be strange for diplomatic ties to be severed for at least a hundred years. I’d heard that since most other races live longer than humans, the moment they get upset, they stay upset for a baseline of a century!
“That’s true…”
The Fire Spammer, having regained her senses, nodded. It wasn't just that; unlike Leon, Dale had a lot of bad blood with other races, so they had to be even more cautious. To be precise, it wasn't Dale itself, but the history of mages. It was said to have happened during the so-called Age of Barbarism, a time when other races were oppressed simply for not being human. Since Dale was the representative nation for mages, they had no choice but to be mindful of the other races' feelings.
“Is that how it’s going to be? I heard Leon recently opened up trade with the Beastkin!”
“That’s exactly why we need to be careful—to protect that trade.”
Since trade had opened up more easily than expected, it could just as easily be closed. The Empire had done a lot for me… well, quite a bit, actually. But even so, the Empire wasn't my homeland. There was no need for me to risk myself to help them.
“Urgh…”
In the end, our relationship was a business one. Realizing this, Uncle Aeryun let out a line like a third-rate villain, his face full of resentment.
“Y-you’ll regret this!”
And, surprisingly, those words came true.
“Gah!”
“Hmph. Nothing special.”
Hmph.
With a small snort, Bell looked down at her fist.
‘I knew I was strong.’
Her self-esteem had dropped a bit recently after being kidnapped by a Dark Mage and rescued, then hanging around with those strange people. But this tournament had restored her confidence.
“The winner: Bell!”
She had defeated the Tiger Tribe warrior, a strong candidate for victory who had called himself the Mountain Lord. Now, just two more wins and she’d be the champion! Her spot at the Academy would be guaranteed.
“That’s our Bell.”
As Bell stepped down from the arena, soaking in the cheers for the victor, someone approached her with a bright smile.
“……Hmph. At least I’m not like a certain someone who uses cowardly tricks.”
Bell puffed out her cheeks and answered bluntly upon seeing who it was. Her name was Ruri.
“Ah. This is what you call power. Are you jealous? If it bothers you that much, you should have been a princess too.”
She was none other than the Princess of the Beastkin, the daughter of the Beast King.
“The world is ending, truly… Since when did the Canine Tribe, a tribe of warriors, start talking about power instead of strength…?”
Bell lamented as she looked at Ruri, whose trip to the Academy was already set in stone.
“Since when? Since my father got stuck with the Beast King position…”
Ruri simply retorted, unfazed.
The Beast King. The being who represents all Beastkin.
Regarding the existence of the Beast King, many rumors existed in the human world. Some said the strongest among all Beastkin becomes the King. Others said a wise being capable of ruling the wild races becomes the King, and so on.
However, these were merely based on human standards of kingship. The position of Beast King had been a history of 'dumping the burden' since its inception.
The first Beast King had suffered as the 'group leader' for all the Beastkin's collective projects. To appease that first King, the other tribes granted the Beast King one specific power:
—The next Beast King is chosen by the current one.
Of course, since the Beast King had to represent all Beastkin, they supposedly looked for minimum qualifications before choosing a successor. But since Beastkin were mostly cut from the same cloth, history showed the job was usually dumped on whoever the current King disliked the most.
“Damn Feline Tribe…”
And the previous Beast King, from the Feline Tribe, had dumped the job on their traditional rivals, the Canine Tribe. Thus, the Beast King of this generation was from the Canine Tribe.
“And because of the rules, we can’t even get revenge.”
If rules hadn't been set, a cycle of revenge—or rather, a cycle of dumping the job—would have continued between the Felines and Canines. To prevent this, once a tribe took the mantle, they were exempt until at least five other Kings had been crowned. Revenge was impossible.
That was why, when the topic of exchange with humans came up among the races, Ruri had argued fiercely to claim one of the Academy tickets.
She was called a princess because her father was the Beast King, but what were the actual benefits of being a princess?
“I don't want to work anymore!”
It was work. Since all Beastkin hated working… the Beast King’s family had to represent the race and handle all their administrative affairs!
“…I’m running away. It’ll increase the workload for the rest of my family, but I’ll suffocate if I stay here.”
If anyone tried to stop her, she’d knock them flat. Bell could only shake her head as she watched the Beastkin Princess harden her resolve.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
In the midst of rhythmic hammering, a small Dwarf lifted a weapon.
“Hmm. With this, I won’t suffer defeat even in the human Empire.”
Alphonse, the Dwarven Prince, wore a confident smile at the sight of the magic sword imbued with powerful mana.
“And here you said skill is what matters most for a swordsman.”
“Yet you’re packing all that gear.”
“Man, what is our King doing? Letting his kid use the kingdom’s assets to show off.”
“There go our taxes, melting away.”
Alphonse scowled at the comments, but he was royalty nonetheless. Royal dignity had to be maintained. Therefore, he used the best method to shut his subordinates up.
“As a token of my appreciation, today’s drinks are on me!”
“Long live the great Prince Alphonse!”
“Kyah! This is the life!”
“The Prince really knows how to treat us!”
The Dwarven craftsmen cheered at the sight of beer barrels being rolled out and magic-treated mugs filled with ice.
“Next is the armor! I shall wear the weapons and armor you’ve made to conquer the Imperial Academy and prove that Dwarven craftsmanship is the best in the world!”
“Alphonse! Alphonse! Alphonse!”
“Prince Alphonse! You’re our hero!”
“We believed in you!”
Watching the craftsmen continue to churn out magic swords and armor even while drunk, Alphonse gained confidence.
Though he might not possess the greatest talent on the continent, his skills were by no means lacking. He was confident he could put up a good fight even against the one they called the Minor Sword Emperor, who was so famous in the Empire.
And if he, with his skills, had magic swords and armor made from the finest materials by the greatest craftsmen?
‘It might seem a bit unfair, but tools are part of a craftsman’s skill.’
Alphonse was certain he could win.
“……Eh?”
But in the not-so-distant future, that certainty would be effortlessly shattered by a magic sword from an entirely different dimension.