A Masterclass in Humiliation
"Excuse me for a moment." Without warning, Herion told Sillon to accept Agion's duel challenge and led him to a private room.
Click. He locked the door and immediately spoke.
"Sillon, we don't have much time, so I'll get straight to the point. Instructor Sinia told me about your talent for the Assassination Arts."
"Hmm?" It was sudden, but I wasn't particularly flustered. "Teach Herion." That was what the players called Herion Dedler. I didn't know much about him, but I knew he was highly favored by the player base. A male character being a fan favorite? That's no easy feat. I instinctively sensed that this sudden event with Herion was an opportunity, not a crisis.
"Are you alright? May I continue?"
"Ah, yes. Please go ahead."
"Instructor Sinia recognized your talent early on during the second exam. Fearing you would find yourself in a complicated situation if it were exposed, she advised you to hide it. However, during the third exam, you ignored her advice and revealed your abilities anyway."
"Well, haha... It just kind of happened—"
"I understand."
"Huh?"
"To receive contempt and discrimination instead of the recognition you rightfully deserve... If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have tolerated it either."
I unconsciously averted my eyes. My eyes! The light is too bright...! The absolute trust, understanding, and respect shining in his eyes were so overwhelming that it felt almost burdensome. Now I finally understood why the players were always crying, "Teach Herion, T_T!" in the forums.
"Therefore, Instructor Sinia and I have decided to respect your wishes."
"My... wishes?"
"I know you want to prove yourself to everyone and earn their respect."
To prove myself and earn respect, huh? It felt slightly off from my actual intentions, but I didn't bother correcting him. As he said, it was true that I wanted to secure a solid position and status within the Academy to ensure a comfortable life. More than anything, Herion—no, Teach Herion—seemed poised to give me exactly what I wanted. I played along with high expectations.
"Haha, well... Hearing you put it that way makes me a bit embarrassed."
"It is only natural for someone your age to seek recognition. So—accept Agion's challenge. Face him in a duel and unleash your talents to your heart's content. Prove yourself before the other participants and win their respect."
"Unleash my assassin's talent... Will that really be alright?"
"The other participants won't be able to distinguish your assassin's talent from the movements of Baurer's Sword."
"But..."
"I know what you're worried about. It might be fine right now, but you're concerned about the aftermath—the political fallout." As I nodded, Herion nodded in return.
"Instructor Sinia and I—no, I will take care of that myself, so do not worry." A flash of deep exhaustion crossed Herion's face for a split second, but his voice remained firm.
"So, do not concern yourself with complicated matters. Just focus on your talent. That is what an Academy cadet should do."
"Teach Herion...!"
"Teach? Well, whatever. Do you understand?" I nodded.
"Good. One last question. Are you confident?"
"Confident?"
"I must warn you, Agion Morci is exceptionally talented. He is easily on par with Drin Libringer and Kasha Hanahan. You must defeat him. And a simple victory will not suffice."
"An overwhelming victory." Herion emphasized the words.
"To put an end to this situation without any lingering doubts, you must achieve an overwhelming victory that no one can dare dispute. Are you confident?"
"I-I'm confident...!" My reply sounded a bit dazed, as if I were being pushed into it. To an outsider, it might have seemed unreliable, but Herion read the absolute composure hidden beneath my act and nodded in satisfaction.
Hundreds of participants gathered in a wide circle around Agion and me, forming a makeshift arena.
"Go get 'em, Lord Agion!" "Show that lowborn trash his place!" Amidst the roaring crowd, Herion spoke up.
"As the examiner of the Academy's swordsmanship department entrance exam and an official instructor, I, Herion Dedler, will oversee and referee this duel. I will decide the outcome of this match, and any objection to my decision will be deemed a direct challenge to my authority. Do both parties agree?" Herion spoke with a voice infused with mana, ensuring everyone in the room could hear him clearly.
Nod. Nod.
"Very well. I will now explain the rules of the duel." Snap. Herion flicked his fingers, and a glowing crest appeared on both of our chests. It was a standard damage-absorption magic used in duels.
"The crest will shatter once it absorbs a certain threshold of damage. The first to destroy the opponent's crest wins. Do you understand?"
"Understood." "Understood."
Herion picked up an object. It was the handkerchief bearing the Morci family crest that Agion had thrown down to issue the challenge.
"The duel begins the moment this handkerchief touches the ground. Countdown starting. Three, two, one—" Flutter, flutter. The handkerchief drifted lazily through the air before gently settling on the floor. Instantly, a heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone held their breath, focusing entirely on the arena.
Agion took his stance, gripping his spear. On the other hand—"Huh?" I just stood there, without even drawing my sword. Then, I made the first move. "What is he doing?" "Is he crazy?" I began walking toward Agion. Completely defenseless, without taking any stance whatsoever.
"...What is the meaning of this?" Agion, previously brimming with confidence, looked more dumbfounded than flustered. "Is this some display of superiority? A handicap? If so, I won't hold back—!"
Agion's body coiled like a spring. The tip of his spear lunged forward with ferocious speed, aiming to end the duel in a single strike. Is it really going to end this easily? Just as everyone thought the match was already over—
"...Huh?" My body seemed to glide forward, accelerating in an instant to dodge the spearhead by a hair's breadth. Startled, Agion hastily pulled back his weapon and leaped backward to regain his distance. "W-What was that movement?!"
Just then, a voice rang out from the crowd. "Ah! That is Molt Drawing, the foundational footwork of Baurer's Sword!" The owner of the flat, awkwardly theatrical voice was none other than Miz Bowler. Standing next to her, Aidrin asked with a look of utter disbelief, "Miz... what are you doing?" "Taking this opportunity to promote the greatness of Baurer's Sword." "Ah... I see..."
Agion let out a stiff laugh. "That is quite a peculiar... footwork. I hear it belongs to Baurer's Sword. Is that true?"
"Haha, I'm honored if it looked that way. I still have a long way to go."
"How disappointing. To think your hidden trump card was nothing more than—"
"To call it 'nothing more,' you seemed quite flustered just now, Lord Agion."
"Yes, of course I was flustered! To think the person who ranked above me uses such a disgraceful style...!"
Once again, Agion's body tensed. With even greater resolve, power, and speed, the tip of his spear thrust toward me. This time for sure! Just as Agion thought he had me—
"Huh...?" My face suddenly filled Agion's entire field of vision. I had slipped past his spear and closed the distance in the blink of an eye, standing right in front of him. It's over! Panicking, Agion desperately swung his spear. Fortunately, his reaction was faster than my strike. Once again, the distance between us widened.
Wait... But on second thought, something felt wrong. Just now... Had his reaction really been faster than my attack? If I had wanted to, wouldn't I have had more than enough time to land a clean hit? Then why? Why hadn't I attacked? Was I... holding back?
"Urgh...!" The humiliating realization shattered Agion's pride. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "What are you trying to pull?!"
I replied with my usual easygoing grin. "I'm not quite sure what you mean?"
"Ha, fine! If that's how you want to play it!" Agion gripped his spear so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Then let's see you dodge this with that pathetic footwork of yours!"
The Morci family's secret technique, the Wind Spear. Despite the rigid nature of a spear, this style was as swift, unpredictable, and free-flowing as the wind. Agion unleashed a tempest of strikes, fully demonstrating the essence of the Wind Spear. Or rather, he tried to. Falter. "...!" Falter. "...Y-You bastard...!!!"
For an attack to truly become a relentless onslaught, the movements must flow seamlessly from one to the next. But every time Agion finished one strike and tried to transition to the next, the exact same scenario repeated itself. I would glide past the tip of his spear, close the distance, and stare right into his face with a goofy grin.
It was a strategy that perfectly exploited the inherent weakness of a spear. A strategy? No, it was pure toy-play. I was utterly playing with Agion. Like a matador teasing a blind bull with a red cape. If I wanted to, I could have plunged my sword into his throat at any moment.
"How dare a piece of trash like you...!" Unable to contain his rage, Agion pulled his spear back to unleash his ultimate move. Clang!Clatter! "What?!" As he pulled back with all his might, the spear struck an unexpected resistance and bounced out of his grip. What happened?! Dumbfounded, Agion quickly spun around to see what had blocked his weapon.
"Huh...?" A wall. Without realizing it, he had been pushed out of the makeshift arena and all the way back to the waiting room wall. "Whoa, watch out!" "Move aside!" "Get back!" "Make way!" He had been so consumed by my movements that he hadn't noticed himself retreating, nor had he realized the surrounding crowd was parting to give him space.
"..." Agion stared blankly at the wall, then down at his spear rolling on the floor. *Tap.* Someone picked up the spear and offered it back to him. It was me, still wearing that goofy grin.
"We ran into an unexpected obstacle. A spear is naturally at a disadvantage in tight spaces, wouldn't you say?"
The arena formed by the crowd was by no means small. And the waiting room itself, which housed hundreds of participants, was certainly not a tight space. I placed the spear back into the hands of the dazed, frozen Agion. Then, I patted his fist encouragingly, as if telling him to hold onto it tight this time.
Agion stared at me. At the same frivolous, smiling face I always wore. I grinned warmly. "Shall we continue?"
"..." Clatter. The spear slipped from Agion's grip once more, clattering onto the floor. Looking toward Herion, Agion spoke in a trembling voice. "I... I yield..."
I cried out in mock panic. "Huh? What?! You yield?! Lord Agion, why so suddenly?!" I put on my usual frivolous, clueless act.
"..." "..." But the eyes of the crowd looking at me were completely different now. Herion scanned the room, nodded, and declared, "The duel between Cadet Sillon and Cadet Agion Morci is over. By surrender of Agion Morci, the victor is Sillon."