Chapter 42: The First Letter (42)
Chapter 42: The First Letter (42)
A full day had already passed since my clash with Senior Elsie’s gang.
Quite a lot had happened in the meantime. Not only did I have to endure Celine’s nagging about why I kept doing such dangerous things, but I also had to sit through a long-winded lecture from the Saintess when I stopped by the temple just in case.
I argued that it was an unavoidable action to protect my honor as a noble, but in return, I had to pretend to be moved by her sermon on how honor is not more precious than life.
The priests of the Holy Kingdom didn't understand how important honor was to a noble. To them, life was a mission bestowed by the Heavenly God Arus.
So, when someone spoke of "honor" and treated their precious life as if it were a mere scrap of straw, it was understandable that those in the position of healing them would find it absurd. While it was the nobles who courted danger, it was entirely the priests' role to save their lives.
Since cultures differed from country to country, it couldn't be helped. In any case, no matter how much I tried to persuade her, there was no way the Saintess would change her mind. Thus, there was only one answer.
Listen to the old-fashioned lecture with one ear and let it out the other, all while nodding as if deeply impressed.
If you do this for a few minutes, most priests will nod back with a satisfied smile. The Saintess was no exception.
"Brother Ian, I am glad you were so moved by my words. Most Imperial nobles usually dislike listening to me, but you are an exception. This, too, is the grace of Arus."
As she spoke, a sense of pride she couldn't hide lingered in her pale pink eyes. She puffed out her chest as if feeling triumphant, which made the already prominent curves of her bust stand out even more.
I cleared my throat with a "Ahem" and looked away. Then, I crossed myself.
O Arus, please forgive your son, born into sin.
However, the Saintess seemed to mistake my sign of the cross for a gesture of deep emotion. I could tell by how her movements became subtly larger as she grew even more excited.
Thanks to that, her voluminous breasts boasted their elasticity. I swallowed a groan and crossed myself once more.
O Arus, come to think of it, it’s not my fault I was born male, is it? I shall accept this as a gift from the Lord. Immanuel.
Having finished my self-justification in an instant, I stole glances at the Saintess while pretending not to. She merely maintained her benevolent smile until the very end.
"Since Brother Ian, whose reputation has been soaring lately, possesses such deep faith, the Lord in heaven must be pleased. I hope we have more opportunities to talk in the future. Immanuel."
With that, she glanced at me and gave a soft eye-smile. At that final moment, I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze directly, overcome by a sense of guilt.
According to myth, humans are beings molded together by the Heavenly God Arus and the Evil God Omeros. It is said that while Arus created the intellect, Omeros created the body, which is why sin still remains in the human flesh. It was exactly as the myth said.
It was truly a sinful body.
Not mine, but the Saintess's.
I had to shove those sacrilegious memories into a corner of my mind as I left the temple.
There were many other matters to attend to. First was the constant staring and whispering that followed me everywhere.
It reminded me of the day I first woke up after losing my memory. If anything, it was even worse now.
The rumor that I had defeated Seria in a duel felt unrealistic to most, and there were only about a hundred witnesses. It was a rumor that could be dismissed as me just getting lucky.
However, the place where I attacked Senior Elsie was right in the middle of the Academy. For such a spectacle to occur within the Academy, where violence was strictly forbidden, was rare enough—and it was even rarer for a third-year student to take down a famous fourth-year figure.
Furthermore, the fact that the opponent I defeated was Senior Elsie played a huge role in the spread of the rumor. Who was Elsie Lainella? Was she not the "Little Villain"?
Of course, if anyone dared to utter even a syllable of the word "little" in front of her, they would have to be prepared for a brutal retaliation, but the nickname was already widely used behind her back.
Short stature, doll-like features. Looking only at her appearance, she was certainly a cute and lovely girl.
But her foul mouth, insolent personality, and the way she went around intimidating students with her gang gave her the exact opposite image. Her behavior was no different from that of a common street thug.
That was why she was called the "Little Villain." It sounded like a somewhat cute title, but there were quite a few people who shuddered at her cruelty.
And yet, that Senior Elsie, even with her gang, couldn't handle a single junior.
Surprise, luck, and various circumstances had worked in my favor. However, rumors don't spread by meticulously accounting for every minor detail.
In the rumors, Senior Elsie had already become a pathetic senior who had suffered the ultimate humiliation—some even said she had wet herself out of fear of me.
At that point, her noble honor was non-existent. She would have to carry this as a dark stain on her history for the rest of her life.
The rumor about her wetting herself might even require her family to step in. She was born with such beautiful looks, but if such a scandalous rumor spread, it would only block her path to a good marriage.
As time passed, I did feel a little sorry for her.
After all, all Senior Elsie did was bring her gang to drag a powerless junior to a deserted clearing to beat him half to death, right?
Of course, that only ended up as an attempted act, and there was no telling what other wicked things she might have been planning, but still.
On second thought, I didn't feel that sorry. Justice always prevails.
Naturally, the rumors continued to spread even after a day had passed. In fact, they were mutating and evolving. Such was the nature of hearsay.
It seemed the rumors had reached Reto's ears as well. He started snickering the moment he saw me.
"Whoa, look who it is. Isn't this the Academy's famous 'Hand Axe Young Master'?"
"What's with that nickname?"
"Hand Axe Young Master"—my face immediately contorted at the bizarre title. But seeing my reaction, Reto only laughed louder, as if he were about to die of joy.
He patted my shoulder, struggling to contain his mirth.
"Pfft, ha... No, I heard you use that hand axe every time you're about to wreck someone. Teahn got done in by a hand axe, Senior Elsie got done in by a hand axe... Thanks to you, hand axes are apparently the trending sub-weapon at the weapon shops these days."
I let out a hollow laugh, "Ha," finding the whole thing absurd.
The reason I used the hand axe was simply because it provided an element of surprise as a sub-weapon. Most swordsmen found it difficult enough to master just one sword.
The path of a swordsman was long and arduous. Most swordsmen preferred to spend the time it would take to master a sub-weapon on refining their Aura instead.
But as my case proved, a sub-weapon can provide a powerful advantage in actual combat if one can handle it proficiently. You can still fight even if you lose your sword, and the mere appearance of a new weapon with a completely different reach and speed can confuse the opponent.
It was even better if, like me, one was skilled in throwing weapons. Whether it was a sword or a hand axe, throwing them could create various variables.
However, this was only possible because I satisfied those very difficult conditions.
Using a sub-weapon unskillfully carried the risk of exposing fatal openings. Furthermore, a sub-weapon like a hand axe had a shorter reach than a primary weapon. It was only natural that the danger increased.
If my body hadn't instinctively known how to handle a hand axe after I lost my memory, I wouldn't have even dreamed of adding a sub-weapon. And yet, the weapon I used was suddenly in fashion.
It was ridiculous. It didn't seem like a very practical choice.
Reto wasn't someone who wouldn't know this. No, perhaps that was why he was enjoying it even more.
He was the archetype of a twisted magician who knew how to sublimate others' pain into his own pleasure.
I couldn't help but lament inwardly—why were all magicians like this?
"Isn't it funny? Some people are actually being serious about it. They say your primary weapon is actually the hand axe, and you've been hiding your skills with a sword... Pwahahaha!"
"Stop laughing."
I said it because Reto's excessive enjoyment was strangely irritating, but his laughter didn't stop. He even went as far as to praise me.
"Still, hehe... you did well, man. If you want to make a name for yourself, you need an impressive image like that, right? Now, wherever you go, if you just lightly lift a hand axe, everyone will probably scream and run away."
"There's no way it's that bad..."
Unable to resist Reto's insistence to test it out, I pulled out my hand axe. Immediately, the students walking through the middle of the Academy began to steer clear of me with eyes full of fear.
No matter how I thought about it, this was an unfair reputation. I wasn't that scary of a person.
*
The evening training session with Seria was not much different. The clash between Senior Elsie and me had become the topic of conversation again.
Seria's aquamarine eyes were sparkling. It was a look of admiration and respect directed at me.
No, I'm actually weaker than you.
But I didn't have the heart to reject the respect of a junior I cared about, so I didn't add anything further.
Seria had even brought a newspaper published by a school club from somewhere. It was the same newspaper that had written bad rumors about her before.
Personally, my perception of that newspaper had soured since then, but Seria didn't seem to mind, perhaps because she hadn't seen that particular article. In fact, she was so engrossed in the article that her eyes were shining.
She held out an article to me. The headline was as follows:
[The Discipline of the Little Villain! How far will the rebellion of the neglected Imperial lower nobility go?]
"Rebellion? How can they use such presumptuous words toward a noble..."
I could only mutter that in bewilderment after reading just that one line.
Treason was a capital crime. It was the same in any country. Therefore, whether they were from the Empire or the United Kingdoms, nobles usually avoided even mentioning similar words.
And yet, even if this was the Academy, to use an expression like "rebellion."
I already felt a headache coming on. Furthermore, the term "lower nobility" clearly implied that "high-ranking nobility" stood on the opposite side.
There was no benefit in getting on the bad side of the high-ranking nobles who held power both outside and within the Academy. Even though I had only read one line, I felt a wave of mental fatigue.
However, contrary to my feelings, Seria spoke to me in a slightly excited voice. Though, to anyone else, the difference would have been so minute they couldn't have distinguished it.
"Senior Ian, to think you defeated that Elsie Lainella... You're amazing."
"No, I just got lucky."
And I benefited a bit from suddenly drawing a real sword, and the opponent letting their guard down.
If we had fought one-on-one in a head-on confrontation, could I have beaten one or two of that gang?
Even that was a generous self-assessment based on the fact that my skills had been growing rapidly lately and the practicality of the hand axe as a sub-weapon.
Of course, the fact that a third-year was talking about "one or two" fourth-years already meant I had considerable skill. It was something to be marveled at, even upon second thought.
It hadn't even been a month since I lost my memory, but my skills were growing at a rapid pace the more I experienced real combat.
However, there were limits. At best, I was at a level where I could be evaluated as "strong in actual combat," and my basic skills and mana capacity were still only slightly better than before.
Ultimately, true strength doesn't come from variables and unpredictability, but from solid basics and mana capacity. Supplementing those would be the task I had to solve in the future.
But regardless of what I thought, Seria seemed simply happy that I had defeated a famous and skilled senior at the Academy. A faint sense of joy lingered in her eyes.
"Still, the fact that Senior Ian is amazing doesn't change. How did you think to launch a surprise attack at that moment?"
"I don't know, I just felt like doing it."
It was a somewhat strange statement, but Seria marveled, saying that a true master's intuition is indeed different.
At this point, I was almost embarrassed. If I were to face Seria now, assuming we both used Aura, I would lose nine times out of ten. Being praised so highly by such an opponent made me feel uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat with a "Ahem" to change the atmosphere. When Seria's questioning gaze turned toward me, I brought up a topic that had just crossed my mind.
"By the way, I met her."
"...?"
"Your half-sister."
"Ah," a soft gasp escaped Seria's lips. Her expression turned somewhat gloomy. To be more precise, "daunted" would be the right word.
It seemed her half-sister was that much of a giant wall to Seria.
Well, she was the top student of the Swordsmanship Department among the fourth-years, the highest grade in the Academy. I could roughly guess her skill level without even experiencing it.
Seria asked me cautiously.
"...How was she?"
"The meeting was too short to make an assessment. Surprisingly, she was quite friendly toward me. Oh, and."
I clapped my hands as a memory that had just surfaced came back to me. A look of confusion appeared in Seria's eyes.
And in the next moment.
"We decided to meet separately tonight. Just the two of us."
Seria's face froze cold.
The light instantly vanished from her jewel-like eyes. It was such a dramatic reaction that I couldn't help but be flustered.
Why was Seria acting like this?