Chapter 79: I Shall Name It the Sunrise Cut (2)
Chapter 79: I Shall Name It the Sunrise Cut (2)
“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him for sure. I’ll kill him without fail. I’ll kill him no matter what.”
A man stood alone at the training ground, his face brimming with murderous intent.
He had a glistening bald head and a sturdy, muscular build. With a ferocious expression that suggested he was waiting for his parents' murderer, the man was none other than Jordic Panola.
Several of his classmates stood nearby, all wearing awkward, hesitant expressions.
“Hey, are you really going to do this?”
“Your opponent is a first-year, you know.”
“I don’t think this warrants a formal duel.”
At his friends' attempts to dissuade him, Jordic’s face crumpled into a scowl. He pointed at his own head.
“Oh, so it’s fine because it didn’t happen to you?”
“Well, no, but…”
“If it were you, wouldn’t you hold a grudge?”
Jordic’s friends couldn’t bring themselves to say no. In truth, they had all seen what Jordic’s hair looked like before he’d been forced to shave it all off.
Right now, he was just a clean-shaven bald man, but back then…
‘It was hilarious.’
‘I’ve never seen such a funny haircut in my life.’
‘If that were me, I would’ve died of embarrassment on the spot.’
The mere memory of that hair made the corners of his friends' mouths twitch upward. If the victim hadn't been the second son of Marquis Panola, they would have laughed openly.
“To subject me to such humiliation… and in front of her, of all people…”
Jordic ground his teeth. Being turned into a laughingstock was infuriating enough, but what enraged him most was being shamed in front of the person he least wanted to see him like that.
“I’ll kill him. I don’t care what the consequences are; I’m going to kill him.”
He intended to murder Patrick by any means necessary. However…
Ten minutes passed.
Thirty minutes passed.
Eventually, an hour had gone by, but…
“Why isn’t this bastard coming?”
“Who knows?”
“Are you sure the duel request was delivered?”
“It was. That butler who acts as his attendant took it.”
“Then why?!”
To answer that grief-stricken scream…
* * *
“Do I have to go just because he told me to?”
“Of course not.”
“Right? Where does a brat get the nerve to tell his elders to come and go? Don’t you agree?”
“Your words are absolute truth, Young Master.”
The duel request had indeed been formally delivered.
However, the delivery failed to account for two things: first, that the recipient was a lunatic who didn't care a lick about common sense; and second, that his sole confidant was a follower who would claim "the Young Master’s word is the law and the gospel" no matter what he did.
In the end, Patrick didn't give a damn about the duel. He went to the cafeteria, ate his fill, washed up, and was now lounging in his room with his head resting on April’s lap.
April, for her part, was currently consumed by the sacred mission of cleaning Patrick’s ears, focusing all her attention on the task.
As if determined not to leave a single speck of dust inside Patrick’s ear, she cleaned meticulously and then gave a soft puff of air to blow away the debris.
“Now, please turn over to the other side.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Patrick rolled over on April’s lap and settled back down.
He was living the dream. Truly, his life was remarkably comfortable.
Unlike a certain someone else.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The peace of Patrick’s leisurely afternoon was shattered by the sound of someone pounding violently on the door.
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know. Ignore them.”
“Understood.”
Patrick closed his eyes, intending to take a nap right there on April’s soft lap…
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Ugh, who the hell is it? Seriously?!”
Patrick stood up irritably. He yanked the door open, and there stood…
“Pa… Patrick.”
“You… who were you again?”
“I’m Rap Bendersen. I’m a first-year, just like you!”
“Ah, right. So why are you banging on my door?”
“The seniors are calling for you.”
“Tell them I’m not coming.”
“……”
Faced with an answer that came out without a second of hesitation, Rap momentarily wondered what kind of person he was dealing with.
However, he quickly snapped out of it and spoke.
“They said if you don’t show up, they’ll round up every single first-year and beat them senseless. Actually, a few have already been caught and are being worked over by the seniors right now.”
“Tsk, tsk. That’s too bad for them.”
“……”
The expression on Patrick’s face—one that said it had absolutely nothing to do with him—was entirely sincere.
Rap pleaded with him.
“Don’t be like that, just go. If you don’t, the entire first-year class is going to have a miserable time from now on.”
“It’s fine. Hardship and suffering are the true flavors of life.”
“Ugh! Your friend Matthew was caught too!”
“…Ah! Stew!”
“You remember him now?”
“No, I know him. I know. You mean that guy, right? The timid one… anyway, that guy.”
“……”
It was obvious. He genuinely hadn't remembered who Matthew was right away.
And in truth, even knowing who he was didn't change much.
Patrick shrugged.
“So what? He needs to go through some of that. He lacks grit.”
“What does grit have to do with anything?!”
“Now, now. Doesn't grit sprout from the soil of adversity and trials?”
“……”
It was, quite literally, the logic of a devil.
* * *
Grind. Creak.
The sound of Jordic grinding his teeth was so loud it seemed they might shatter.
Beside him, other third-years tried to intervene.
“Calm down a bit.”
“Calm down? Do you think this is a situation where I can be CALM?!”
The third-year who had spoken flinched, momentarily annoyed by the outburst. Why are you taking it out on me?
But on the other hand…
‘Well, I suppose he has every right to be pissed.’
“Dammit! That cursed bastard, why the hell isn't he coming? WHY?!”
Jordic was slowly losing his mind.
The other third-years, who wanted to back out before things escalated further, looked at the maddened—or rather, already insane—Jordic and found themselves stuck.
“Dammit, first-years!”
The enraged Jordic called out to the freshmen again. He spoke to them through gritted teeth.
“Collective responsibility. Everyone, line up!”
The first-years' faces darkened. They knew the hierarchy in the Knight Department was absolute and that seniors could administer corporal punishment.
But wasn't this too much?
‘This is going too far.’
‘Senior or not…’
‘If it weren't for House Panola, I’d really…’
The first-years trembled with humiliation. However…
“Does anyone have a problem?”
When Jordic released a burst of intimidating pressure, the first-years hurriedly lowered their heads.
It wasn't just his family name; they simply lacked the strength to oppose the violence standing before them. In the moment, power that can be exercised immediately is far more relevant than principles or authority.
Seeing the first-years with their heads bowed, Jordic snarled.
“You spineless cowards… Step up one by one! Clench your teeth!”
The first-years began to line up dejectedly.
But then…
“St… St… Stop… please!”
One of the first-years bravely stepped forward.
Or perhaps "bravely" wasn't the right word. Given his trembling voice and shaking legs, it was obvious to anyone that he was terrified.
However…
“Th… This isn't right. I know that even as a senior, you shouldn't be doing this.”
Out of all the first-years gathered there, only one person had squeezed out the courage to speak up.
Jordic looked at him with an impressed expression.
“Oho? And what is your name?”
“It’s Ma… Matthew.”
It was Matthew, the commoner.
“Matthew? Ahhh… so you’re the one?”
Jordic knew who Matthew was. As for how…
“You were the starting point of this whole mess, weren't you?”
The very reason Patrick had crossed House Panola in the first place was because of Matthew.
‘Don’t tremble. Say what needs to be said.’
Matthew clenched his teeth, tightened his core, and forced his voice out.
“I know why Patrick and you are at odds. It’s true that I am the cause. But the root of it all was…”
“The root?”
“Because your brother, Royist, used unreasonable violence against me. Patrick was only helping me.”
“Right. I suppose he was.”
“S-so…”
“So what? You’re saying you guys did nothing wrong?”
“……”
“Then it’s all my fault, I suppose.”
A smile spread across Jordic’s face. It was a smile filled not with kindness, but with murderous intent.
“I’m trying to get revenge for something my brother did wrong, so I’m exactly like the villainous noble in a storybook. Isn't that right?”
“…That’s not what I meant.”
“No, you’re right.”
“……”
“But you see.”
Jordic draped an arm around Matthew’s shoulder.
“What exactly can you do about it?”
“Th—Gah!”
Matthew collapsed with a scream as intense pain flared in his face.
Before he knew it, Jordic’s fist had slammed into his jaw.
A follow-up knee strike caught Matthew in the solar plexus, and as he fell, Jordic stepped on his head.
“I asked what you can do about it, huh?”
“Ugh… uuuugh…”
“Did you think a brat with no power or influence could change anything by preaching?”
“A… a knight… stands for justice…”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.”
“Ugh…”
As Jordic applied more pressure with his foot, Matthew groaned in agony, feeling as if his skull might crack.
Jordic spoke with a cold, detached expression.
“You’re a greenhorn who knows nothing of the world. Even if I killed you right here, it wouldn't be impossible to frame it as an accident.”
“……”
“And what? Justice? Chivalry? Do you think anyone’s going to side with you just because you spout those words? Look at your classmates. Is a single one of them stepping up to help you?”
At Jordic’s words, the first-years lowered their heads even further.
Even the other third-years looked somewhat uncomfortable.
In truth, if one were to discuss chivalry—or if one were to clearly distinguish right from wrong as a noble—it was obvious whose side they should be on.
But that wasn't how reality worked.
Jordic, the second son of Marquis Panola, was also a likely heir to the title.
The people gathered here had too much to lose to choose to oppose Jordic out of a momentary sense of justice.
Having much means having much to lose.
Those born into prestigious families and raised in privileged environments are taught never to let go of what they possess. To that end, they are prepared to disregard principles and logic when necessary.
Just like right now.
‘Dammit… dammit…’
Matthew was filled with resentment.
He had entered the Royal Academy with high hopes and dreams of becoming a knight. But he never imagined the reality he would face would be such a gutter.
What was this about being a place where the kingdom’s finest talents gathered?
An educational institution to foster the leaders of the kingdom’s future?
What a joke.
This was merely a miniature version of the power structures they would face in society, designed for them to experience it beforehand. There was no noble honor or chivalric dignity to be found.
“Oh? This brat is crying.”
Jordic mocked Matthew as he looked down at him.
“Heh… are you finally starting to grasp reality? You naive child?”
“……”
Resentment, injustice, and the tears shed upon facing the filth of reality—to Jordic, they were nothing more than objects of ridicule.
Jordic looked down at Matthew and said, “Say it with your own mouth. ‘I’m sorry for acting out of turn when I’m a nobody. I’ll live quietly like a shadow from now on.’”
Jordic wanted submission.
He wanted this brat, who had offended him by speaking the righteous truth, to surrender and bow his head. By doing so, his victory would be absolute.
In Jordic’s world, it was only right for a powerless brat to bow and scrape before someone like him.
So, wasn't this good for the boy? He was learning the correct way of the world before he became an adult. However…
“…No.”
An unexpected word came from Matthew’s mouth.
“Huh?”
“……”
“Did I hear that wrong? Why don’t you say it again?”
“I said no, you piece of shit.”
“Oho…”
“……”
“It seems you’re even stupider than I thought.”
Jordic grabbed Matthew by the collar and hauled him up. He spoke with a chilling expression.
“Do you really think I won’t kill you?”
“……”
“Right. You might think that. It’s true that killing someone inside the Academy makes the cleanup a headache.”
When Jordic said this, the ones who felt the most relief weren't the threatened Matthew, but the other third-years.
As he said, if a senior killed a junior inside the Academy, the problem would become severe. Everything up to this point could be dismissed as common disciplinary action between seniors and juniors, but a death was a different matter.
They didn't want things to escalate any further. But then…
“But there’s something you don’t know.”
Schwing.
Jordic drew the sword from his waist with his other hand. He spoke to the pale-faced Matthew.
“The pride of Jordic Panola stands above your life, and even above the Academy’s rules.”
“Hey, Jordic.”
“Stop it.”
The other third-years tried to intervene, but Jordic’s cold gaze kept them at bay.
Jordic looked at Matthew and gave him one last word.
“ I’ll give you one final chance. Apologize and bow your head right now. If you don’t…”
Ptui!
Matthew spat in Jordic’s face.
In that instant, the surrounding air turned ice-cold.
“……”
“……”
Amidst the ominous atmosphere, Matthew smirked at the frozen Jordic.
Jordic’s stunned face, looking as if he couldn't comprehend what had just happened, was strangely satisfying to see.
Matthew spoke to that loathsome face.
“Kill me if you’re going to, you trash.”
“Ha… Hahaha. Right. So that’s how it is.”
Genuine murderous intent flickered in Jordic’s eyes. And then…
“Fine! I’ll grant your wish!”
Jordic’s sword swung toward Matthew’s face without a moment’s hesitation.
“Nooo!”
“Jordic!”
The third-years screamed in horror as they tried to stop him, but it was too late. Jordic’s blade had already reached Matthew’s nose.
Matthew squeezed his eyes shut.
‘So this is how I die. But I have no regrets. I’m only sorry I couldn't fulfill the wishes of my father and grandfather. And my sister… will she cry a lot without me? I told her I’d return as a knight, but she’ll be so sad if I return as a corpse. But she’ll overcome it, and one day…’
“Huh?”
It was strange.
Why wasn't he dead?
Matthew slowly opened his eyes. What he saw was…
“How dare you do this to my best friend, Stew?!”
It’s Matthew, you bastard.