Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: 10. I Came, I Saw, I Conquered (6)
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#12 Their Side of the Story: Lia El Nermia's Situation.
Honestly, I had sensed the threat from Yuglasia Academy.
But excluding Mercaria, which perpetually ranked third and couldn't be relied upon for combat prowess, the perception of Yuglasia Academy—essentially dead last in battle categories—was far worse than I had imagined.
I worked tirelessly in the student council, explaining the dangers of Yuglasia Academy and urging preparations, but it all came off as nothing more than the empty cries of a thorough—or annoyingly persistent—first-year freshman.
And as a result, Yuglasia Academy swept every victory on the very first day of the Imperial Tournament.
"Even so, the youngest Swordmaster in the Imperial Tournament...?"
A Swordmaster was an existence unto itself, not treated as a mere individual.
A monster who could single-handedly obliterate a mediocre unit.
Unlike mages or magic engineers, whose personal combat ability plummeted without mana, a Swordmaster could keep fighting with just their sword, even if mana ran dry. To allies, they symbolized victory; to enemies, they were an object of terror.
And now, such a being had become the enemy.
"If it's Lady Aris of the Retia Family... she's only 17 now, a year faster than the Sword Princess of the Arais Family."
The Empire's Four Great Prestigious Academies admitted anyone under 20.
They were so renowned that many who failed the entrance exam reapplied the next year.
Even so, nobles typically enrolled at 16 or 17, though cases like mine—entering at 15—weren't unheard of.
No matter how young, if you had the skill to gain admission, the Empire's Four Great Prestigious Academies would accept you.
But even accounting for that.
Among current students, a Swordmaster had appeared only once at Arsia Academy, the school of the sword: Grand Duke Heblein Run Zear.
And even he had achieved it at 23, in his senior year on the verge of graduation.
There was no record in continental history of a first-year—no, a teenager—becoming a Swordmaster.
The only similar case was the Sword Princess, the previous youngest Swordmaster.
But even she had done it not as a student, but as the imperial princess's dedicated guard, with every royal privilege at her disposal.
How could a Swordmaster—let alone a god-tier Summoner—emerge from a student at an academy of Summoners?
Did that mean I'd have to fight a Swordmaster for the next three years—or four, if I clung on this year too?
"This is... something else."
-Is this amusing to you, Master?
"Yeah."
Truth be told, I had been utterly disappointed.
No matter that I came to the academy to escape my mother's marriage pressures, I had high hopes for one of the Empire's Four Great Prestigious Academies—the pillars and future of the empire.
But reality offered an education so pathetic it paled in comparison to that of the Evil Organization, the enemy within the empire.
Watching the noble children form political factions rather than study made me seriously wonder why Howling had failed to conquer the empire.
Of course, those thoughts vanished whenever I remembered the instructor's disciples.
Day after day passed in dull monotony, my disappointment growing, until finally, someone appeared who could provide the stimulation I craved. How could I not be thrilled?
-Master, I'm asking seriously: are you a masochist? You enjoy suffering?
"Didn't the instructor say that without trials and tribulations, you can't move forward?"
-So, did you move forward while taking those beatings from that bat as your trials?
"Sometimes, to advance, you have to retreat!"
-It might sound good if you hadn't used me as the sacrificial lamb for that retreat!
Quiet. The sacrifice of an ox for the greater good has always been necessary.
I merely gave you the touching role of being abandoned—no, sacrificed—to cover the ally's retreat.
Honestly, I did feel a bit sorry about it.
But that's what a bat was for.
"Yeah, bat. I've grown by taking those hits. No matter if it's a Swordmaster—even their brush with death can't compare to my experiences!"
But the next day.
Things unfolded in a way I never expected.
"Graaaah! You thought this would stop me?!"
"Kuhahaha! Even Marsis's greatest genius is just this much!"
"Wh-what?"
I couldn't help but wear an uncharacteristic look of bewilderment.
As planned, I was supposed to compete on day three of the week-long Imperial Tournament.
Even with healers included, mental fatigue couldn't be ignored.
The first two days were scouting matches worth just one point per win, so Marsis had no intention of expending my strength there.
But after an overwhelming defeat on day one, I entered earlier than expected: the flag match.
Teams of six competed to topple the opponent's flag.
It was the only match on day two of the Imperial Tournament worth two points—and the sole win that day.
To claim it, I defeated teams from Mercaria Academy and Arsia Academy.
Then, in the round before semis, I faced my first Yuglasia team.
But they were all nobodies, as the term implied.
Just as expected from unknown students, the two who charged with mediocre summons were easily dispatched.
The moment I reached for their flag after freezing their hands and feet with ice magic!
A bang! And an eerie laugh.
The instant I saw the eyes of the two grabbing my ankle, chills ran down my spine.
"You... attacked your own hands and feet?!"
I'd heard it happened occasionally on real battlefields.
With all healers wiped out, someone cauterizing their bleeding wounds with fire magic.
Or burning off ice restraints binding their body with flames.
But those were life-or-death battlefields.
Trading body parts or pain for survival wasn't a good deal.
This was the Imperial Tournament.
No matter the stakes for each academy's future and profits, I couldn't fathom a student self-destructing to escape.
"More importantly, why didn't the recall magic activate? That should've triggered teleportation ages ago!"
For student safety, the Imperial Tournament used special magic tools.
They automatically teleported the user to the infirmary upon detecting significant pain or threat!
Pain from blowing off their own hand should've summoned them there instantly.
"Heh heh heh. Even geniuses are greenhorns, after all."
"We Yuglasia students, who've fought the Silver Devil—did you think we'd get recalled from this little pain?!"
"Pain? Was there pain? I thought a mosquito bit my arm."
"Me too. It stings from the mosquito."
"They're insane..."
It was an explosion that shredded part of their mana-resistant uniforms.
Up close, you could hear sizzling from their burns.
Anyone laughing it off as a mosquito bite in that state wasn't sane.
They were crazy. Utterly deranged.
"We lost yesterday."
"If we lose today too, we'll face that devil next."
"I'd sooner sell my soul to another devil than face the silver one!"
"Ugh?"
In that moment, staring into their madness-filled eyes and hearing their frenzied cries.
For the first time since leaving the organization, I felt that emotion again.
'Sc-scary...'
Fear!
'I gotta run!'
They weren't strong.
Clearly weaker than me.
But I had no confidence I could win.
It was human instinct.
The primal urge to survive, transcending reason and emotion, screaming for me to flee.
"Ugh?!"
I tried to back away as instinct demanded, but the two gripping my ankles one by one had no intention of letting go.
"He... deal... ruined."
"You're going down here."
Their grip was so tight it hurt.
This level of obsession was the first since No. 1000's determination to eat.
"Eek! I-I'll just go...!"
"Heh heh heh! Finally, our turn to use that line!"
"Niserwin Professor called it nonsense, but now it fits!"
"Ugh? You're freezing your hands to my ankle?!"
They muttered something bizarre as the spell activated.
The chill from their hands sought to freeze their arms and my ankle together.
"'You can come in as you please, but not leave!'"
With those words, their arms and my ankle fused as one.
"I'll kill you, Surtr!"
Murder was strictly forbidden by Imperial Tournament law.
But right now, my reason had half-flown out the window.
"Calm down, Master! Even to restrain you, they froze their own hands! They must've held back on their own bodies! My flames... Ah, not melting?"
Among the many unfair contracts between Surtr and me, Surtr couldn't harm my body.
He tried moderate flames to melt the ice on my ankle, but it held.
"Freeze, freeze, freeze again!"
"Even if our hands shatter, an absolute glacier that won't melt!"
"You crazy bastards?!"
"Just kill them already!"
It's cold. Sensation fading below my ankle.
But I'd faced similar in the instructor's hellish training.
This madness, though—this obsession? Only once before, from a senior in the organization talking about the instructor, a woman named Sia.
'Amazing, Instructor!'
How had the instructor—no, Instructor—endured such fanatic obsession?
My respect for him surged even as sensation vanished from my ankle.
"I don't know! I really don't!"
If it'd been a massive attack sending me to the infirmary, fine—but I couldn't stay with these grinning weirdos any longer.
"Burn, burn, burn it all!"
They were weaklings. But more terrifying than any foe.
If I didn't kill them first, they'd kill me!
So strike first.
"Burn, burn more! Burn everything!"
"Master, too dangerous!"
Eyes closed, I envisioned the sword of the giant who burned a world.
"Burn it all, burn until the world is erased!"
The small spark in my hand soon took shape.
"Levatein!"
The flames forged a massive sword.
Surtr's ultimate weapon, which ended a myth!
"Ooh, cool!"
"But so what? It won't even scratch the Silver Devil anyway."
"Yeah, true."
This wasn't the real Levatein.
Our contract wasn't equal enough for the true one.
Even so, it was a demonic armament borrowing Levatein's power.
A weapon rivaling divine arms—yet they remained utterly calm.
"This is your last chance. Release the spell, and you won't lose your hands."
It wasn't that Surtr's power couldn't melt the ice.
Weakened or not, the great demon Surtr was restrained by contract from harming my body.
But wielding this armament myself didn't count.
"Scary. But..."
"Aren't you too late?"
"Wha—huh?"
A clear killing intent hit me.
In a student event, even against enemies, killing intent came from only one place!
"Dieeeee!"
"End it!"
Charging were a massive gray wolf and a mid-tier wind spirit.
"Damn it!"
I slashed the gray wolf with Levatein and incinerated the wind spirit with fire.
"Shit..."
Big trouble. Marsis's team, including me, were our academy's top forces.
The opponents? A team of total nobodies, not a single name worth noting.
That's why I let my guard down.
Just two had me like this.
The rest of Marsis's flower-in-a-greenhouse students couldn't beat these maniacs!
"Heh heh heh. I lost yesterday. Lose to another academy now, and we're undead until we drop."
"Hahaha, same here. Well, our whole team, precisely."
The emerging Yuglasia students looked utterly wretched, one by one.
Yet not one of the six had straggled.
Meaning...
"Now, just take you down..."
"Then no devil—we're all Yuglasia next!"
"Die to save us!"
"Block it, Surtr!"
Not a single sane person among them.
Like an ancient battle where berserker drugs turned every soldier mad.
Indiscriminate attacks ignoring allies.
Even as flames from Levatein should've sent them to the infirmary, their relentless assault wore me down until I fell.
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: #12 Their Side of the Story: Lia El Nermia's Situation
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