15
Chapter 15
Two weeks had passed. I was training hard in swordsmanship.
In truth, the training was simple: I'd get beaten up by Glacia, get healed by the Healer, get beaten to a pulp by Glacia again, and then get healed once more.
No scars remained, as the healers at Arcadia Academy were world-class. But even if the physical wounds vanished, the emotional ones lingered. The daily accumulation of pain manifested as sheer stress.
"Isn't there a way to make this hurt less!?"
I asked with a hint of rage, but Glacia replied as if it were nothing.
"There is no educational effect without pain. Swordsmanship is the art of survival. You only learn when your survival is threatened."
Damn it, she's not wrong, but it hurts like hell!
-Whoosh!
Glacia swung her blade wide, as if wanting me to feel some pain for once. But she lightly dodged my sword and thrust her blade toward my neck.
"Gah!"
I couldn't breathe for a moment. Unimaginable pain surged through my neck. Is this really something a heal can fix?
"Dammit..."
Why on earth did I agree to learn from Glacia? Someone else would have started slowly with the basics. This is why those from the Back Alley are... Just as I was thinking that, Glacia said something unexpected.
"You've improved a lot."
"What?"
"That last attack was one that forced a counter. You lack talent, but you have a good sense for it."
No talent, but a good sense? What's the difference? Aren't they the same thing?
"Your muscle flexibility, innate physical ability, skeletal structure, and mana sensitivity are all somewhat lacking. Your body isn't suited for the sword. You have no talent."
I know that already! That's why I've been failing everything.
"Instead, your ability to understand the Sword Path is exceptional. You were born with the creativity and the ability to think about how to attack efficiently. Your body can't keep up, but your mind certainly can."
I see. So she's saying my body is a disaster, but my brain is fine.
"Since your body is so poor, your mind has to suffer."
I decided to ignore Glacia's useless addition.
"However, if you fight while never forgetting that you are weak, you'll be able to pull your own weight anywhere. It won't be hard to avoid failing grades, either."
After two weeks of just getting hit, humility had become second nature to me.
"It's important to have an objective understanding of your own skills, so I'll prepare a stage for you."
"A stage?"
"A special stage where you can intuitively grasp exactly where you stand."
A stage to intuitively understand my skills... What kind of stage could she possibly be talking about? I was puzzled at first, but it didn't take long for me to realize what Glacia meant.
-----
"I wondered if you'd actually show up alone."
A voice echoed through the Training Ground. Andre, Enrique, and Hugh—the trio who usually bullied me.
"I read your challenge letter. Coming at me one-on-one without Glacia? You've grown quite arrogant since I last saw you. Do you actually think you've become strong?"
Andre spoke with a sneer. But what on earth was he talking about? I had no idea.
"What challenge letter?"
Andre clicked his tongue and stomped his foot.
"Don't play dumb! Isn't this the challenge letter you sent me!"
Ah... damn it. Glacia told me she'd set up a stage and to come to the Training Ground on Sunday at 8 PM, and this is what she meant? It seemed Glacia had orchestrated everything.
"My memory isn't great, so what did it actually say?"
"Haha! Typical of a fool who failed the last exam. It was a letter requesting a one-on-one duel to avenge the humiliation of being bullied until now!"
He really does tell me everything I need to know. Come to think of it, is he actually a nice guy?
Just as that thought crossed my mind, he picked up a wooden sword.
"Draw your sword. I'll show you the difference in our bloodlines."
"Sigh... Fine. Let's do this, you brat."
I was starting to get sick of these guys. Now that I had the Princess's recognition, I figured it was time for these punks to be graduated from my life.
As I picked up my wooden sword, Andre bowed according to noble etiquette and then lunged at me without hesitation. I was startled by the sudden attack, but while my mind panicked, my body reacted calmly. It was all thanks to getting beaten to a pulp by Glacia.
When I dodged his first attack, Enrique and Hugh looked on in shock. This was a completely different side of Charles, who until now had no athletic ability whatsoever.
I could tell Andre was flustered too. When Charles had asked him before why he bullied him, he'd claimed it was because he was a Fallen Noble, but that likely wasn't the truth. If so, why would he target Charles specifically among all the commoners?
The answer was that Charles was an easy target. He had no talent for the sword or magic, making him a simple victim. But things were different now. Though Andre was attacking Charles with everything he had, Charles didn't take a single hit, parrying or dodging every single blow.
'He's nothing compared to Glacia...!'
Glacia's attacks seemed effortless, but each one was fast and lethal. Compared to her, Andre's strikes might have looked similar in form, but they lacked any real substance. They weren't fast or sharp; Charles could parry them with minimal effort.
"You Fallen Noble...!"
Andre's attacks grew more aggressive. However, Charles didn't budge, blocking every strike. As the fight continued, Andre began to gasp for air. Heaving breaths echoed through the area.
'Already? We've barely even started.'
Glacia could beat him for an hour straight and still be perfectly fine. Yet here was Andre, panting after only a few minutes of attacking.
"Are you actually weak?"
Having been beaten to a pulp by him before, Charles had assumed Andre was strong, but fighting on equal terms proved otherwise. To think he'd been crushed by someone like this... he felt a wave of emptiness.
"Shut up, you lowborn scum!"
Andre lunged forward with a scream. He performed a basic attack taught relentlessly at the academy—an upward strike from bottom-left to top-right, followed by a spin to attack from the left again. Having experienced that move countless times with Glacia, Charles easily ducked and struck Andre's leg, launching his first counterattack.
-Crash!
The blow to the leg sent him crashing down noisily. He let out a scream.
"Aaagh! My leg, my leg...!"
His leg wasn't even broken. He was simply exaggerating the pain from a mere hit.
"Are you seriously this weak...?"
Why did I let this guy beat me? If I had fought for real, wouldn't I have won? Just as he wondered, Andre shouted.
"What are you just standing there for! Hugh, Enrique! Take him down!"
"What? You said this was one-on-one!"
"Shut up, you lowborn scum! Duels are for nobles!"
Hugh and Enrique lunged simultaneously. Andre quickly scrambled up to join them. Blocking was easy when it was one-on-one, but three against one was a different story. Charles backed away, blocking as many attacks as he could, but he was gradually pushed back by their sheer numbers.
He held out for about three minutes. He kept retreating, trying to bait them into missing. The problem, however, was that the Training Ground had a limit. Once pinned against a corner, Charles could no longer fend off three swords.
The attacks from three directions were overwhelming. Andre, desperate to avenge his earlier humiliation, rained down merciless blows, while Enrique and Hugh struck Charles without hesitation.
Despite the immense pain, Charles felt a strange sense of euphoria. He had lost now, but he felt that with a bit more training, he could win. He decided he'd ask Glacia to push him even harder next time. And in that moment.
"Enough."
Everyone froze at the sound of the beautiful voice echoing through the Training Ground. When they looked toward the source, Glacia Ehrenberg was standing there.
"That's enough. All of you, return to the dorms."
At those words, Enrique and Hugh hesitated, while Andre, the leader, stepped forward boldly and shouted.
"Who do you think you are, telling us—"
"Unless you want to die."
As Glacia drew her wooden sword, the trio scrambled to flee. She approached Charles and held out her hand, and he took it to stand up.
"How was it?"
"It hurts like hell."
"Not that. Didn't you feel you had a chance of winning?"
She was right. He felt that if he were just a bit more accustomed to the blade, he could have won.
"Those boys learned the typical academy-style swordsmanship. They obsess only over form. In contrast, you learned by being beaten by me, so you are naturally stronger. As I said, swordsmanship is the art of survival."
It was true. He never imagined he'd catch up to Andre in just two weeks, though the fact that Andre was essentially worthless played a part.
"Two weeks."
Glacia said.
"Let's train for two more weeks. I'll make it so you can beat those three idiots on your own."
"Is that even possible in two weeks?"
"As long as you're prepared to be beaten to a pulp."
So, getting beaten is a prerequisite after all.
Then, options appeared in his mind.
[1. I hate getting beaten. I'll likely avoid failing, so let's stop here.]
[2. But don't you want to personally beat the crap out of Andre?]
After thinking it over.
I decided.
[2. Even if I finish the lessons, I have to beat the crap out of Andre first.]
For the next two weeks, a path of suffering opened before him.