Relay Sparring (4): The Assassin's Slip
Yustina's blessing magic showed no signs of stopping.
If an ordinary human had kept channeling blessing magic to supply someone with stamina without rest, their mana would have depleted, leaving them exhausted and collapsed. But as expected of a dragon, Yustina kept pouring the blessing magic into me without giving me a moment to tire.
Well, unlike regular humans, dragons possessed a dragon heart—an immense source of mana—so limits on magic use simply didn't exist for them.
Even so, isn't this too obvious...?
As long as my stamina didn't flag, I had no choice but to keep fighting. Stopping now, when I didn't look the least bit fatigued to everyone watching, would only invite suspicion about why. More than that, it would mean falling right into Yustina's trap.
And so, after claiming victory over Konet, I defeated Charlotte, crushed Yozef, and racked up win after win in a rampage.
Master...?!
I don't know... this is weird...
Things got downright comical during my match with Charlotte. She knew better than anyone that I was the sort of human who collapsed from exhaustion after just a little intense movement. It was only natural she couldn't comprehend how I was still leaping around, still swinging my sword with stamina to spare.
Charlotte had never been much of a fighter to begin with, but today she hesitated even more than usual, letting me win with embarrassing ease.
What's the point of spinning it around more...!
Even as I piled up victories, I kept stealing glances at Yustina. Whether she watched me fight once or ten times over, what difference did it make...? I was losing track.
This was my first time fighting like this, so the bout with Konet had felt the most awkward, but with each repetition, it grew more natural. I was adapting to these new combat styles in real time.
"Hahaha, Sir Deneb! At this rate, you'll take down the entire class single-handedly! Looks like I need to call a halt here!"
"Please do..."
"What was that?"
Yozef put up more of a fight than the other students, but I still dropped him easily. No matter the imperial education, he was still just a student. In pure combat prowess—without magic—I had long surpassed academy level and gone far beyond.
After finishing Yozef and a few more opponents, murmurs began rippling through the students, growing louder by the second.
"Isn't this a bit too one-sided?"
"How are we supposed to keep up in class with a freak like that?"
"Grades? Who cares about grades? My turn hasn't come yet, but I'm forfeiting early. No way I beat that monster."
"His skill is insane, but that stamina... it's beyond human."
"Exactly. He's been darting around, swinging that sword like mad, through more than ten matches, and he looks fine?"
Some even leveled reasonable suspicions.
"He's not using blessing magic right now, is he?!"
"Yeah, now that you mention it, yesterday he..."
"Didn't Professor Dane say something? I think I overheard. Apparently, the guy's got insane talent for blessing magic."
"So you're saying Deneb's secretly using magic to fight while the rest of us aren't?"
"Well, not necessarily... but it could be..."
If Yustina had just buffered me enough to compensate for my poor stamina and bring me to average human levels, no one would have batted an eye. But she'd overdone it, so suspicions were inevitable.
How do I even explain this away?
It wasn't something I'd done myself, so there was no explaining it. And with no one here more knowledgeable about magic than Yustina—not even Professor Perkin—there was no risk of her spell's traces being detected.
Professor Perkin strode over, placed a hand on my shoulder, closed his eyes, and hummed thoughtfully before nodding.
"Deneb Lehinar's mana flow is stable. No magic is being used. I vouch for it myself as your professor. Instead of suspecting others without proof, blame your own pitiful skills."
His curt declaration quieted the murmuring students. But while the voices of doubt faded, Yustina did not relent. Whenever my stamina dipped, more blessing magic. When my arms grew heavy holding the sword, more still. It was no different from chugging expensive potions by the bottle.
After felling a few more students, I finally faced her.
"Next opponent... hmm... Yuz Denbergen!"
Even Professor Perkin, who must have known in advance, drew a sharp breath at the name Denbergen. The arena buzzed for a moment.
Well, she'd attended yesterday's class, but they hadn't taken formal attendance in basic magic, so it made sense. Judging by the surprised reactions, everyone recognized her as Yuz Denbergen, daughter of the academy chairwoman.
Thud, thud.
Her appearance was more mature than 500 years ago, but still youthful. That was only skin-deep, though—she was a dragon girl who'd lived well over 500 years. No one fully grasped her true nature, but they all sensed the weight of her presence and tensed up. I felt it too.
This is gonna be rough.
Watching a fight and being in one were worlds apart. As Elfin had said, when swords clashed, it wasn't just the ring of metal—it was two warriors' emotions and circumstances colliding. In exaggeration, it was like two different worlds smashing together.
Things invisible to mere spectators came into sharp focus once you gripped a sword and faced off. The scrape of steel on steel carried deeper stories.
Put simply: I had to act even more convincingly.
Stay sharp.
I tightened my grip on my sword.
Then—
"Huh?"
The stamina flooding my body cut off abruptly and vanished.
***
Yustina watched Deneb's fights with piercing scrutiny. Her suspicious gaze scoured for anything off, anything reminiscent of Dane.
Once, twice, three times... over ten times. Her impression?
What is this...?
Truth be told, she couldn't identify "who" taught him just from a few sword swings. She knew Dane's style only because it was him, committed to memory. Lifelong warriors could guess a teacher's lineage from footwork alone, but not everyone could.
Born with magical talent far beyond humans, Yustina had never bothered mastering swords or weapons. Still, she could sense unnaturalness.
At first, his style was so unlike the Deneb she knew that she sighed in disappointment at another dead end.
Deneb was an assassin by trade. In a relay spar like this, he'd conserve stamina, fight efficiently—using the assassin's basics, the Dark Shadow Step, to deflect attacks and exploit gaps.
But why fight like a barbarian berserker...?
Yet Deneb's actual style was the polar opposite. Less stealthy killer, more berserker who threw himself into wounds without care.
Of course, she didn't realize it was Elfin's style.
Spotting it in his match with Konet, Yustina felt a flicker of disappointment, then creeping suspicion.
Isn't that too deliberate?
Deneb was only seventeen. The refined youngest son of a noble house. Trained by fine teachers in a good family, so skill made sense—but that style? A propriety-obsessed noble family teaching their delicate youngest to fight so savagely? It didn't add up.
For his current body, that approach was poison. He might drop one foe with all-out effort, but under relay rules, it was baffling.
A normal style might have evaded suspicion.
So there must be another reason for that choice.
Ironically, it mirrored how Deneb had pierced her disguise: spotting an odd decision and digging for the hidden motive.
Yustina, the chairwoman disguised as a student—Deneb had sensed something amiss.
Deneb, the assassin fighting like a berserker—Yustina detected the incongruity.
Different subjects, same conclusion.
He's hiding it on purpose.
Not proof enough that Deneb was Dane. Knowing ancient script was circumstantial; taking the dagger and this altered style were just hunches.
But Yustina was already 90% convinced. She needed decisive evidence.
"Next opponent... Yuz Denbergen!"
With Professor Perkin's slightly flustered voice, Yuz—no, Yustina's turn arrived.
The other professors, save Headmaster Jerniel, knew nothing, so their surprise was natural. But Yustina ignored it.
She had to wring meaningful clues from this spar. Grabbing a plain sword, she racked her brains and walked forward with heavy steps.
Standing before Deneb, she gripped her blade.
No choice but this.
People revealed their true colors in desperate straits. She'd buffered his stamina with blessings to keep him fighting longer.
But what if she cut it right before the clash, charging without giving him surrender time? Would panic strip away the act, revealing the real him?
"...Huh?"
With that thought, the moment the match began, Yustina severed the stamina blessing and lunged.
Clang!
Yustina's swordsmanship wasn't great. In pure physical combat, she matched a genuine seventeen-year-old girl. Why master weapons when casual spells crushed dozens of swordsmen? One wave of her hand sent magic swords swarming, fireballs raining—no need to move herself.
"Ngh...!"
"Is that all you've got?! Deneb?!"
"Guess I'm a little tired...!"
But Deneb now lacked even the strength to twitch a finger. Anyone but Yustina would have been tough; she was impossible.
She pressed her brief advantage over the drained Deneb—until whoosh—
"Kyaa?!"
"Your side's wide open."
No magic allowed, Deneb's win was inevitable. Stamina blessing gone, body slack, he still faded into shadow with slippery steps, slipping in to pinch Yustina's soft side.
She let out an age-inappropriate squeal at the touch, but
"...!"
Her eyes locked on his feet amid it all.
Was that... Dark Shadow Step?
Yustina didn't even notice dropping her sword, murmuring inwardly. Distracted by the pinch, she'd seen it clearly: Deneb using the assassin's foundational step.
Stamina vanishing suddenly, caught off-guard by her unexpected assault— in that pinch, Deneb forgot the act. Habits etched into the soul emerged.
For him, it was Dark Shadow Step.
...Did she see?
Deneb realized he'd moved like an assassin. Of course, Dark Shadow Step wasn't unique to Dane; all assassins learned it as basics.
But Deneb Lehinar, noble youngest son, knowing it? Bizarre. Especially with his ancient script knowledge, exceptional mental fortitude, and senses.
"Heh, hehehe, hahahaha..."
"...Tch."
Yustina, defeated with dropped sword, faintly smiling. Deneb, victorious but stamina-crushed, collapsing in terror.
To other students, the loser's faint smile and winner's fear looked odd...
But no one grasped the hidden truth behind the match.