Chapter 139: Trolling (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 139: Trolling (1)
I lost, but I got stronger.
Well, it wasn't an impossible outcome.
Usually, when you first start learning something, you learn by getting hit. There’s a reason for that old gaming proverb: “If you don’t know the matchup, prepare to get bodied.”
Of course, I wasn't exactly at the stage where I needed to get beaten to learn, but the levels of the people appearing around me lately had been getting ridiculous.
It felt like the power balance had suddenly shifted.
How should I put it? A balance patch?
Since the Dark Mages were too weak, the Demon Tribe was being introduced earlier. And to counter them, powerhouses from other races were popping up… that kind of development?
“Even so, it’s not like the demons haven't done any damage yet…”
I mused, fiddling with the new magic sword I’d received.
It felt like the Demon Tribe was the type of enemy that didn't take much damage unless you had a specific ability. The problem was that there were far too many people in the Academy who possessed those specific abilities.
There was Daisy, who had actually hunted a demon, and the Fire Spammer, of course. Even the Magic Spammer had abilities that didn't fall short of the Fire Spammer’s.
And according to Boradori, if one reaches the pinnacle of a field—say, the level of a Sword Master or a Grand Mage—it’s possible to win, right?
Granted, Sword Masters and Grand Mages aren't exactly common, but it’s not like the Academy was lacking in such figures either.
“Hmm…”
To be honest, looking at this magic sword made from a ground-up demon, it didn't feel like a powerful new enemy from a manga or novel. It felt more like a high-level expansion area in a game had just opened up.
“Not that getting stronger is a bad thing.”
Lately, the number of Dark Mages appearing even in minor incidents had increased significantly compared to my first year. And since demons were starting to pop up one by one in major events, it wouldn't be strange for them to appear in groups at any moment.
In such a situation, I had no reason to complain about getting stronger.
However, a nagging feeling remained.
So, I decided to check on that lingering doubt.
“Right. Why did you suddenly want to meet…”
“So, did you manage to make any friends?”
“……?”
Well, I’d find out after getting hit one more time.
Generally, humans didn't have a great image of elves.
Almost every elf spoke as if their race was superior to all others, and the majority of them were quite prickly.
Surprisingly, however, elves were kinder than one might think.
Is the elven race superior to others? If you break it down point by point, it’s actually true.
Are they prickly toward humans?
Humans might only know of their past transgressions through history books, but for elves, those events happened just a generation ago. For long-lived elves like High Elves, it was something they had witnessed and experienced firsthand.
The fact that they didn't punch a human on sight was proof enough that elves were a benevolent race. Therefore, unless they were dealing with someone from Dale, they tended to show respect if they owed a debt.
“D-Do you want to die?!”
Case in point.
Even though I’d barged in and immediately hit her with the “Did you make any friends?” line, she still hadn't killed me.
“……”
But this was a bit of a shock.
“Did you learn martial arts too?”
“I’ve practiced self-defense for five hundred years! What of it?!”
I came here to get hit, and boy, did I get bodied.
And it happened before I could even hand her a wooden sword—I got thrashed by her bare fists.
“Ah. I see.”
However, thanks to that, I gained an epiphany.
No, it wasn't an epiphany about the sword. I’m not some kind of masochistic sword fanatic; getting beaten doesn't just magically grant enlightenment every time. If it did, I should have reached enlightenment every time the Captain or the Sword Emperor hit me.
The realization I gained this time was simple.
The difference between three hundred years of swordplay and five hundred years of fist fighting.
It was exactly that.
“You’re really bad at swordsmanship…”
“What?!”
It was funny coming from the guy who just got his ass kicked, but it was the truth. I could tell from those five hundred years of fist fighting.
How should I put it? To use an expression I’d heard before: a million repetitions of a single straight punch?
Yerisha’s swordsmanship felt exactly like that.
Three hundred years of practicing the sword. And the five hundred years of martial arts she just showed me. After experiencing both, I knew for sure.
“You’ve never actually been in a real fight, have you?”
“……”
The Captain, the Sword Emperor, even Ellen.
There were many people stronger than me, and I had lost countless times. But there was one key difference between them and Yerisha.
Their swordsmanship was something they had made their own through countless experiences.
Yerisha’s swordsmanship was something she had merely learned through an immense amount of time.
It was, so to speak, infinitely transparent. An unblemished, pure original of the technique.
She was quite literally a walking textbook of swordsmanship!
“……?”
So, I tossed the sword I’d prepared to Yerisha.
“I suppose it’s hard to get real combat practice without any friends…”
“……!”
I immediately initiated the taunt.
“You are banned from this area for the time being.”
“……”
After three days of taunting her, I was finally banned from the entire elven territory provided by the Empire.
It seemed a High Elf’s patience lasted exactly three days.
“Hmm…”
That was a shame.
I wanted to keep going at least until final exams.
“Well, I need to check other directions too.”
In the wild world of the Academy, pure skill isn't everything.
As expected of a RoFan world, while political maneuvering was rampant, it was also a place where using items was highly encouraged.
It was a battle of pure pay-to-win, without even a monthly subscription fee. You could tell just by looking at the shops surrounding the Academy, which were packed with all sorts of artifacts.
And at the top of that food chain was Daisy, the only owner of a Mythic-grade item on the server—no, in the Academy.
I had no intention of belittling Daisy’s skill, but realistically, 80% of her current combat power came from that magic sword.
That’s why I’d geared up as well.
Of course, I couldn't get a Mythic-grade item of the same caliber. But it was an item crafted by a renowned Dwarf using materials I’d personally gathered from hunting grounds.
Its name: Magic Sword Season 2 (Infused with Demon).
As for its effect…
“This is the true power of magic.”
“Guaaah! I’ll curse you, Adam Smith!”
It was the amplification of the fire and ice powers I’d gained from the Yin-Yang Pill.
“Even a third-year senior was defeated!”
“Damn it, is there no mage who can beat that bastard?”
“Get a fourth-year! No, a TA! No, get a professor! This isn't just a duel. This is a challenge to the very field of magic!”
Using the swordsmanship I’d learned while being beaten by a High Elf, combined with the magic sword crafted by a Dwarf and infused with a demon, I was able to turn the training grounds upside down.
Just as the weak Magic Spammers were falling one by one before the power of racial integration—the combined strength of three races…
“I shall be your next opponent.”
Someone I’d never seen before appeared in front of me.
“Damn, he’s finally here!”
“Your villainy ends here, Adam Smith!”
“Kneel before the true power of magic!”
“……”
The crowd, though.
Specifically, the Magic Spammers who had already lost to me at least once were the ones shouting the loudest.
“Don’t… don’t raise your voice.”
The man in front of me even controlled the crowd as if he were used to it.
“Adam Smith. You have been far too arrogant.”
“……”
“That is why I have come personally.”
“……”
“…Surely you don't mean to tell me you don't know who I am.”
“……”
At his words, spoken without a shred of doubt, I silently averted my gaze.
…That was the greatest courtesy I could offer him.
“……Do you really not know?”
Since he insisted on asking, I had no choice but to nod silently.
“Do you truly not know my name, Demacia?”
“……”
It was awkward.
It was definitely the first time I’d heard the name, but for some reason, it felt familiar.
How should I put it?
If I’d heard that name last year when Silence invaded the Academy, I feel like he would have been the first one killed.
But since it was indeed my first time hearing it, I had nodded, and yet…
“What?!”
“How rude!”
“You don't know the name of the top-ranked student in the fourth-year Magic Department?”
“To not know the Academy’s strongest mage!”
“……”
I felt wronged.
I couldn't even remember the name of the top-ranked student in the fourth-year Swordsmanship Department. How was I supposed to remember someone from the Magic Department?
“Quiet.”
However, Senior Demacia—the top-ranked fourth-year in the Magic Department, the ‘official’ strongest mage in the Academy, and possessor of a name that belonged in the Swordsmanship Department rather than the Magic Department—calmed the jeering crowd and looked at me.
“If you do not know my name, I shall simply make you remember it.”
I’m sorry, but I’ve already remembered the name.
Making me remember a name despite being a Magic Spammer was quite an achievement that would surprise anyone who knew me.
“Come at me.”
“……”
Unfortunately, that was as far as it went.
There is a long-standing law in Academy stories.
It’s called the Golden Generation.
Of course, this isn't just limited to Academy stories; it’s a trope common in most subcultures. It’s a device used to highlight the protagonist, their rivals, or their companions.
This applied to the RoFan male leads centered around Daisy as well. To provide justification for this, the original work added the Sword Emperor and the Grand Mage as plot devices to draw them all to the Academy.
And this hadn't changed much even now, with the original plot heavily altered. If anything, the level had risen overwhelmingly compared to the original.
Of course, depending on the work, there are cases where seniors stronger than the protagonist’s generation exist.
Unfortunately, according to Boradori, there were almost no senior characters who acted as an insurmountable wall for the protagonist’s group, let alone any who were helpful.
Senior Loreliya, who was at least decent, was in the Villainess position. Other senior characters did appear, but most were either insignificant or used as one-off villains.
And this was the result.
“Urgh, it is my defeat…”
“……”
The other Magic Spammers fell into despair at the sight of Senior Demacia collapsed on the ground.
“It’s a lie!”
“Senior Demacia!”
“The strongest man in the Magic Department has been defeated!”
To be honest, even excluding my sudden growth and the existence of Magic Sword MK-2, my previous fight with a different Magic Spammer had been more difficult.
That was the extent of the gap between the protagonist’s generation and those before them.
…Honestly, it was even worse than I expected, which was a bit flustering.
Thanks to that, the atmosphere was a mess. How should I put it? Not just the Magic Spammers, but the students from the Swordsmanship Department looked shocked as well.
“……”
In an atmosphere filled with chaos, astonishment, and various other emotions, I had to make a choice.
Should I let the mood stay ruined like this? Or… should I sacrifice myself to change it?
“Sign this.”
“……?”
At my serious tone, everyone’s eyes turned toward me.
Feeling their gaze, I tossed a match into the powder keg.
“Sign that I, Adam Smith, am the strongest mage in the Academy.”
“……”
“……”
“……”
A brief silence followed.
But soon, the mouths of countless mages began to fly open.
“@!%#!@^@#$&#@$%&#$&”
“$@##@$%^&#$%&$%#@%$@*&^%(^%”
“%$%^&()&^@%$@#^%$&^”
I couldn't understand what they were saying, but seeing them storm the dueling ground en masse, it seemed I had successfully become a troll.