The Ring (2)

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still remember it clearly. Blancart.

It was the worst possible condition—stamina drained to the bottom, mana nearly depleted—yet that single strike had felled the lion. Calling it a cheat skill wouldn’t even be an exaggeration.

Even considering the lion had been on its last legs, the fact that I had pierced through its desperate final struggle and completely overturned the outcome made the “cheat” label undeniable.

It came with the harsh restriction of only being usable once per day, but acquiring it was still an enormous windfall. Not only could I prepare for the upcoming events, but it would also allow me to deal meaningful damage to enemies far above my level.

The condition that both rider and mount had to be mounted made it somewhat situational, but at least I wouldn’t die in the upcoming defeat event. That golden bastard fought on horseback too, so meeting the requirement wouldn’t be a problem.

…But I don’t have a horse.

Maybe I could ask Kafka to carry me?

I was lost in such pointless thoughts when—

Suddenly, Kafka’s telepathy pierced into my mind.

Hmm. It’s the weekend, so heading to the lecture hall would be pointless. Eileen-senpai also said she wouldn’t be doing club activities today, so the club room should be empty. But going back to the dorm room feels a bit… meh.

“The sparring hall?”

I nodded at her question. There was something I needed to confirm.

The message that had appeared when I appointed Kafka as my squire. If that notification was true, it meant I could transfer my skills to her.

My current bread-and-butter cheat skill, Orlando’s Muscle Training Method, for one. Maybe even the secret technique I’d obtained from Angelica—Mad Orlando. I didn’t know how far the transfer would go, but if Kafka could inherit all of them?

It would be no different from the enemy having to fight two of me at once.

The problem was… I had absolutely no clue how to actually pass the skills on.

Would just demonstrating them in front of her be enough?

I was about to head toward the sparring hall with that thought in mind when—

“Ian?”

Someone called my name. The owner of the voice was Angelica. She approached with quick steps and poked my arm firmly with her finger.

“You just woke up. Is it really okay for you to be moving around?”

Her voice was filled with concern. She hadn’t said anything when she visited me in the infirmary, so I’d wondered what was up. Turns out she’d been thinking deeply about me the whole time.

While everyone else had been more interested in grilling me about the ring than worrying about my body… Even though she looks so blunt, she’s actually quite thoughtful—

“Then we can spar now, right?”

Of course there wasn’t. I looked at Angelica’s eyes, sparkling like rubies, and let out a mental sigh. Look at those glittering eyes. How could those possibly be the eyes of someone worried? Those were clearly the eyes of a chef licking her lips while deciding how to cook her next meal.

I knew it… The way you used to beat my body like a sandbag, and now you suddenly pretend to worry about me? Give me back the feelings I wasted, you jerk.

And so, I headed to the sparring hall together with Angelica.

The moment the doors of the sparring hall came into view, I saw a woman with flowing golden hair ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠swinging a perfect downward strike. It was Iris. With a sharp whoosh, her wooden sword came down in a flawless arc. It was a posture that could never be achieved with just a few swings.

Well, it wasn’t surprising. Although she was the heroine in charge of the healing route and seemed to leave everything to the male lead, she was a once-in-a-generation genius who possessed both the qualities of a saint and perfectly hexagonal talent.

If we were talking purely about talent, someone ordinary like me could never catch up.

Still… she’s really working hard.

I didn’t know how long she’d been swinging, but the sweat on her face suggested quite a bit of time had passed. Beads of sweat clung to her skin, soaking through her training uniform and making the already prominent curves of her body stand out even more. Her breathing was ragged.

Yet she didn’t stop her downward strikes. Instead, she swung even harder.

Strange. In the game, she wasn’t this kind of character. Did something happen to trigger her?

Or maybe I’d been staring at Iris for too long. I suddenly felt a stinging gaze from somewhere. Actually, it had been there ever since I entered the sparring hall.

The Iris Fan Club Trio.

They seemed extremely bothered by my presence and had been watching me closely ever since I walked in. The stares felt even sharper than usual—probably because of the ring I’d given her.

Whatever. Let’s not pay them any mind. It’s a good thing if she gets stronger. And it’s definitely not because I don’t want to get tangled up with those three male leads beside her, and it’s absolutely not because explaining the ring would be annoying. Nope, not at all.

That said, with so many eyes watching, taking Kafka out might be a bit awkward. I still didn’t know how to transfer the skills, but if the condition was simply demonstration… then just showing should be fine. But would she even be able to see the outside from inside my shadow?

I sent a telepathic message to Kafka.

Kafka’s answer was indifferent. I nodded as if I understood.

Then there’s no problem.

“Catch, Ian.”

I caught the wooden sword Angelica tossed at me. She must have been itching all over. Whether it was because of her title or because I’d grown used to it, I could now somewhat read the emotions hidden behind her expressionless face.

She was clearly brimming with excitement at the thought of beating me up, and that excitement showed as she swung her sword.

Every time she swung her wooden sword, a tremendous whooshing sound sliced past my ears along with a gust of wind strong enough to brush my cheek. And every time the sound and wind passed, my hands grew slick with sweat.

Damn it. You crazy woman. I was a patient until just now. I was lying in bed for three whole days, you know? Shouldn’t you go a little easier on me?

I sent her a look filled with that small wish, but—

“Alright, let’s begin.”

Seeing the eager expression that practically screamed “I’m going to beat you up right now,” it seemed my wish hadn’t reached her at all. Damn it all.

I swallowed a whole mouthful of curses internally and let out a sigh. Still, I’m not the old Ian anymore. I can even draw out aura now, you know? I’m a Sword User just like you now.

Besides, if I wanted to show Kafka properly, going all out would make for a better demonstration anyway.

I gripped the wooden sword and took my stance.

This is the first lesson.

I activated Insight of One Who Has Seen the End first. After defeating the lion, I had grown stronger and even stepped into the same realm as her—the Sword ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠User stage. At this point, at least a hundred possibilities should appear…

……You’ve got to be kidding me.

The level-up alarm rang twice. I exhaled sharply.

Then Kafka’s telepathy echoed in my head.

The reason Kafka said that was because I was currently sprawled out on the floor like a starfish. Is this for real?

Even though my level was still lower than Angelica’s, I had entered the Sword User stage and reached the same realm as her. On top of that, I had achieved dramatic growth from the fight with the lion. I thought I could finally stand on equal footing with her now.

So why does it feel like nothing has changed from before? Why am I still lying on the floor just like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last time? And why was there only one possibility to hit her?

The single possibility Insight of One Who Has Seen the End had shown me was exactly one. I rubbed my eyes and looked again, but it was still one.

And so I got beaten up by her. Only by shattering her wooden sword at the very end was I barely able to end the spar in a draw.

Does this even make sense? How can the gap not have closed even a little?

With questions swirling in my mind, I activated Insight.

My mouth fell open at her status window. Angelica’s level was 49. She was only one level away from the next stage—Sword Expert.

I had only just stepped into Sword User, yet she was already on the verge of Sword Expert. Just what the hell happened during those three days I was lying unconscious? Did another dungeon break out in the academy or something?

Damn it all.

Thanks to the title’s effect, I received more experience until my level matched hers, so should I be happy about that? Or should I hang my head at the miserable reality that I’d have to keep playing sandbag for this monster for a long time?

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger. Weren’t you supposed to have been lying down for three days?”

Angelica approached me as I lay spread-eagled and offered her hand. Behind her expressionless face, I could see joy. Looking closely, the corners of her mouth seemed slightly raised too. I have no idea what’s so fun for her.

I let out a sigh and took her hand.

“Well, it’s not like I was just playing around the whole time.”

“The whole time? Did you gain some kind of enlightenment in your dreams?”

Angelica blinked her red eyes. At her question, I made a face of utter confusion. Dreams? No, in the dungeon—

Just as I was about to answer, something occurred to me. Come to think of it, information about the dungeon wasn’t disclosed to the students, right? Then Angelica probably wouldn’t know that I had cleared the dungeon. Or would she? Maybe Kafka told her?

I asked Kafka, but—

Kafka answered indifferently. Then why was it known that I had been hospitalized for three days?

“My lady, do you happen to know why I was lying down for three days?”

At my question, she placed a finger on her chin and pondered for a moment.

“Hmm… Professor Skull said there was a reason, but…”

“But?”

“He told me that you tried to subdue Kafka together with him, somehow ended up forming a contract, and then passed out from the aftereffects.”

That’s surprisingly normal. I thought that guy would’ve said something like I passed out after smashing my head on a rock. Or maybe he just gave a rough explanation.

Wait a second. If that’s what he told everyone—

“Then does that mean everyone already knows about Kafka?”

“Well… I suppose so?”

What the—? Then there was no need to hide her at all. Wait, there was something even more important than that…

I need to check whether the skill transfer to Kafka worked.

I asked with a sliver of hope. After getting beaten up that badly… if the transfer had failed, I’d feel incredibly wronged.

Kafka’s anxious murmur.

……

The lack of any answer told me the transfer had failed. So demonstration wasn’t the condition? Then why the hell did I get beaten up? Well, I was going to get beaten anyway… but still. This is so unfair.

I was so frustrated I wanted to vent this anger somehow.

“Charles.”

I walked toward one of the three idiots who had been blankly staring at us—Kim Charles. Startled by my sudden approach, his body flinched. Come to think of it, this might be the first time I’ve spoken to Charles. Wait, whether it’s the first time or not doesn’t matter right now.

“Let’s have a—

Just as I was about to approach him, a small hand grabbed my collar. The owner of that hand was Angelica. What? Is she finally trying to act like a proper attendant or something? A thousand wild thoughts flashed through my mind, but—

“What? You’re still full of energy. We can go again, right?”

The words that came out of her mouth were far worse than any of those thousand thoughts. I’m sorry. Fuck.