Am I Really Going to Die?
The crater formed by the Hero's attack began slowly restoring itself to its original state.
…Yeah, the Academy really is something else.
Restoration magic this clean and thorough must cost a fortune.
One thing I felt watching her first move just now.
…She's on another level.
Honestly… I hit a wall.
Against Arbel, I at least had some countermeasures.
Though sure, she was probably going easy on me…
But right now, the sheer difference in our builds is overwhelming.
In this body of mine, even grazing one of that self-proclaimed Hero's attacks would smash me straight into the wall.
You might think I'm exaggerating.
…I wish I were.
…Okay, got a good idea.
"Hey, Professor."
"…Talking down to me?"
"…I'm using polite speech."
I added the yo and the nim—that's definitely polite, right?
"Tch… So, what do you want?"
"How about three exchanges instead of five?"
"…You have no pride at all?"
"What's pride?"
"Hah…."
She let out a disbelieving laugh, but my attitude didn't budge.
What good is clinging to pride?
Ditch it, and at least I can scrape together a meal.
So yeah, ditch it.
"Three exchanges… You think you can win in three?"
"Well… not exactly win, but at least I've got a shot."
"Ha, ridiculous."
Come on, don't dismiss me like that.
Hey, I'm still an elite parachute drop into Class A, you know?
"Fine. Three it is. But it's all or nothing—one match."
"Okay, perfect."
"…Your sentences are getting shorter."
"Just your imagination."
She's so picky.
"Get into stance. We're starting now."
She tells me to prepare while keeping both hands in her pockets, totally defenseless.
Talk about overflowing with leisure.
Well, it's not like I can do anything about it, so I guess it's natural?
…Pisses me off.
"Alright, then…."
Hoo….
Focus.
"Be…."
Be….
I zero in on each syllable.
Reacting to movements alone is too slow.
So instead, I use sound—the faster harbinger that reaches me first.
The instant the sound's direction shifts.
I focus on that sound to react in the moment.
The Hero's voice from her mouth.
My breathing.
The rustle of clothes against clothes.
"Gin."
No ambush…
A start worlds apart from the first clash.
The Hero still hadn't moved a muscle.
But me moving first? Suicide.
I just need to survive three attacks.
No need—or reason—to attack myself.
"…You're no fun."
…I hear that a lot.
So go ahead and drop some fun lines to entertain me.
That'll make things a bit easier for me.
The more info my opponent feeds me, the faster my reactions get.
"Then I'll come at…."
Before she finished, her form vanished.
My eyes lost her, but sound tracked her.
So I just follow the sound.
The speck of mana in my body.
Too little to boost my strength, I channel it to my ears.
Suddenly, sounds sharpen—the ones I heard, and even ones I didn't.
Tracking a single voice in this state? Piece of cake.
Hero's position: right below, to my right.
She's unarmed right now.
Only weapons are her fists and legs.
What's the most appealing attack from there?
Normally, I wouldn't react at all to her strikes.
She confirmed that in the first clash.
Opponent can't react.
Priority one: speed.
Conciseness above all.
Then, lethality.
Not just injury—disrupt their next defense.
Or an unexpected hit to slow their reaction. Fatal in combat.
But for now, it's a test.
No lethal wounds for me.
I showed zero reaction in round one.
Yet here I am retrying, so she knows I've cooked up a counter.
She won't expect me to panic.
Her best judgment now: one thing.
Break my stance.
Her body's tilted right and low.
Attack aimed low at me too.
To break stance from below? Legs, obviously.
Now, the gamble.
Grab my leg with her hand?
Or low sweep to trip me?
…If only my dynamic vision was halfway decent, no need for this bet.
Why does this body never get good news?
What a piece of trash.
…Anyway, 50-50 odds.
I bet on the sweep.
Sweep means clockwise swing.
So, left.
Short hop out of range.
Pure prediction territory.
Reacting visually? Too late. All gut.
Still….
Lucky.
Success.
Only after barely dodging did her form blur into view.
And that blurry form vanished again in a flash.
Hoo… No time to celebrate one dodge.
Slack off for a second, and it's over.
Focus on my mana-heightened hearing.
One sound to track now.
Wind slicing.
Superhuman speed cleaving air.
…Dead ahead.
Straight-up frontal assault.
Next: attack type.
Simple straight punch?
Longer-reach kick?
Grab…?
Straight path means endless options.
Headache….
Normally, you'd see and react.
But not me—so another gamble like before.
Double down on the same bet?
…Idiotic.
Gamble smart: high odds, opens next path.
I dodged left first.
Back or left again? Cornered against the wall.
Third attack lands for sure.
Rule out grappling pulls backward.
Best option for me now?
…Forward thrust.
Timing her motion's end.
Thrust forward to wreck her stance—my best shot.
Easiest thrust for her forward? Kick.
Longest reach, big motion.
Easy to close distance dodging once.
Big motion means poor follow-up, easy to disrupt her stance.
…Okay.
Rule out kick.
No way she'd hand me that gift.
One left.
Frontal straight punch.
Nightmare for me.
Too short-motion to thrust against.
Too skilled for me to block head-on.
Backpedal? Wall.
Left again? Same.
…Right dodge it is.
Looks sloppy, but.
Just as her blurry form starts resolving.
…Now.
Roll right.
Cold gust whistled past my hair.
…Scary as hell.
Anyway, success so far.
Chain to the plan.
Halfway through the roll, core-powered spring snaps me up.
Rolling's a big motion.
Best way to recover, but….
Still fast.
A beat late.
Sound reaction? No—visual, so inevitable.
A silhouette beat me to my rise spot.
Yeah, figures.
She's the Hero, after all.
Impressive skills.
…Good.
Exactly as expected.
Chose big-motion dodge for one reason.
Forces single attack type.
Unlike prior gambles on her evasion.
This time, I locked her attack.
Stance broken mid-air.
Dodging impossible.
She knows—goes high-risk, high-reward.
Sure enough: big swing.
Sweep.
Not stance-breaker like before—pure boot to send me flying.
Perfect.
Exactly what lets my scythe shine.
Sweep: spinning kick.
One foot anchors rotation, other flies.
Block the anchor? Stance crumbles.
Scythe's hook-shaped.
…Ideal for snagging an ankle.
Body still springy, generate spin mid-air.
Hook her ankle on timing.
Stance naturally breaks.
Now… halfway through her spin….
Right… now?
Wait.
What? Both feet on ground?
Whoa… our Hero just grabs my scythe.
Your hand's gonna hurt… just drop it.
My body, gripping the scythe handle, launched higher into the air.
Centered on her, my form arced a semicircle from her front to her back—floorbound.
…No good.
Hey, Hero? Slammed like this, I'm really gonna die?
I said that, right?
…Fuck, screwed.
"What the fu…."
BAM!
A crater even bigger than the first gouged the floor.
And simultaneously—
"If it hurts, that means it's youth."
…Is she insane?