Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Unforgettable Training Camp (1)
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The academy placed considerable emphasis on equality among students in the same grade.
That made sense—if students who were supposed to compete and grow together held back from showing their true abilities due to social barriers, the very purpose of the academy would lose all meaning.
Nevertheless, students inevitably faced those barriers of status.
No matter how much the academy's rules insisted they were equal competitors, reality told a different story.
Boom!
A thunderous crash echoed. It was Yeoryeong and Jeo's match. A clash between the Cho Clan and the Eustaine Clan. A battle of raw power against the myriad things of the world.
*'The Eustaine Clan are friends to all things in nature... or something like that?'*
From what he'd heard, they could converse with animals and trees. And furthermore, they could even assimilate those traits into themselves. Those rumors weren't lies.
Jeo's fingertips bore bear claws, his legs the explosive power of a leopard. His skin spewed iron spikes whenever Yeoryeong's sword swung toward it, making it seem nearly impossible to wound him with ordinary strikes.
Even so, Yeoryeong somehow landed effective hits on Jeo.
Overwhelming power also meant overwhelming speed. Jeo dodged her attacks through animal instincts and reflexes, but anyone could see that Yeoryeong held the clear advantage.
"The Eustaine Clan hasn't shown their full power yet."
That was when Anya, who had been watching the spar from the side, spoke up. Ban glanced at her pale eyes and asked,
"How can you tell?"
"It's obvious. To unleash their true strength, the Eustaine folks have to transform."
"Transform...?"
Ban stared at her with an expression like she'd suggested eating grass. He'd seen Jeo spar many times before and even fought him himself, but he'd never witnessed any transformation. Anya let out a sigh.
"You'll find out eventually. But those guys hate transforming... Anyway, Yeoryeong's probably winning today too."
And she was right. Moments later, Yeoryeong looked down at Jeo with a bored expression, arms crossed as she asked,
"You're really not transforming? This is getting boring."
"...A true warrior is strong even without relying on his wild side."
"You're weak. So you're not a true warrior."
"I have... nothing to say to that."
Jeo hung his head dejectedly. Watching them, Ban couldn't help but feel incredulous deep down. He'd never once gained the upper hand against Jeo, and that wasn't even his full strength... And now Yeoryeong had beaten that Jeo.
*'Was I only able to hold my own against Yeoryeong because of matchup advantages?'*
He knew he wasn't in a position to complain. He'd gone toe-to-toe with Yeoryeong, who'd trained her whole life, using swordsmanship he'd only practiced for a couple of years. Honestly, he was confident that in a few more years, even the Nine Great Clans—who looked like monsters now—wouldn't seem so lofty anymore.
*'Is my ability a kind of blessing too?'*
If so, maybe his parents had been nobles.
But if that was the case, why had he, a noble's child, grown up as an orphan?
It was a question with no answer for now. Anya glanced up at Ban.
"...You."
"Yeah?"
"You shouldn't carry that sword around so much."
"Why?"
"I can feel it. It's a sinister blade. Things thick with their old owner's traces... eventually attract goblins. That's why you don't use cursed items."
Ban flinched at her words. He suddenly recalled that the Nahar Clan's White Flame was a soulfire.
Had she sensed Yuri's lingering presence within it? Even so, one thing was certain. Ban gripped his Huando greatsword tightly and replied,
"Not for me, at least."
"...Do what you want if you're gonna be stubborn. I've warned you."
"Got it. Thanks."
Anya turned away primly. Leaving her behind, Ban clutched Yuri's Huando greatsword and sank into thought.
*'It's not going to cause trouble.'*
The sword's memories had only brought him gifts. The fact that a boy who'd dug herbs in a backwater village could now stand here among nobles was all thanks to those "cursed" blades.
*'And I still haven't mastered her true Deflection.'*
The Deflection Ban could currently perform was at a 3-Star level.
A force that could deflect more solidly, more fluidly, more sharply.
But the Deflection wielded by Yuri, a 4-Star swordsman, was different.
With one swing of her sword, she could redirect five or six strikes off into irrelevant directions.
*'4-Star... That's still pretty far off.'*
It hadn't even been a few months since he'd reached 3-Star. Considering that most graduates' swords were around 4-Star level and 5-Star was rare... It wouldn't be strange if it took years just to reach 4-Star.
But Ban didn't waver.
He was used to long distances by now—he could run them fast.
There was only one thing he had to do.
Never stop.
§
Citadel Academy's new semester began when February was half over.
There, Ban saw many faces he hadn't encountered before. Not just returning students, but plenty of lazy freshmen who hadn't bothered showing up to the training grounds before term started.
"You are the pillars and backbone of this nation."
Those were the words of Professor Sandel, who taught "What is a Knight?"
"And I'm not saying this to praise you, but to implore you. I dare say that you, walking the path of 'knights,' are the most important people not just in this academy, but in this world."
"Look to the North! The Kalsmori Library, hailed as a sanctuary of philosophy and art—what happened to it and the sages within overnight? The library burned, and their wisdom withered before it could bloom."
"Because they scorned martial might."
"When wraiths and monsters invaded from those dark frontiers, they couldn't protect a single thing and crumbled."
"And we lost the North."
"I'm not here to scorn wisdom."
"I'm saying that to protect that wisdom, what we ultimately need most is strength... you all. So that humanity's borders don't shrink again."
"So that everything we love isn't trampled once more."
"You must be strong."
That was the kind of class it was. Even the more sensitive students shed tears. Ban, who hated complications, found himself clenching his fists without realizing it while listening to the professor's eloquence.
But it wasn't just Sandel's rhetoric. In every class, professors stressed over and over that 'knights' were the academy's greatest reason for existing.
That was understandable. With half the students being knights, it was obvious Citadel Academy favored them. Budgets, classes, even dormitory locations—all prioritized knights.
The classes were incredibly diverse. Not just ordinarily varied, but excessively so. If someone had told Ban there was a "Running" class at Citadel Academy, he would've thought they were mocking him and gotten angry.
After all, anyone could run.
Teaching it as a class? It defied common sense.
But the academy's common sense was different.
"You haven't been running all this time."
"You've just been deluding yourselves that you were."
"Your limits are farther than you think."
"You can run longer. You can run faster."
"Run."
Ban had to run not just until his lungs burned at his throat, but until his breath stopped entirely. He thought he'd reached his limit, but the professor never agreed. At Citadel Academy, limits didn't exist—at least not officially. Limits were a symbol of weakness.
It was the class almost every student hated most. Starting every day with morning runs? Plenty loved sweating in combat training, but few enjoyed mindless running.
Yet no one questioned the class's value after seeing the professor's "Running" just once.
The flow of air, the spring of muscles, the laws of the world—it all felt different.
In the instant he took his starting stance, he was already beyond their field of vision.
*'If they ranked that running by Stars... what level would it be?'*
Impossible to say. But it felt like 3-Star, 4-Star, or maybe beyond.
After witnessing that, Ban couldn't complain about the grueling runs that felt like they would burst his lungs. He had to expand his limits.
He had to admit that the limits he'd imagined existed only in his mind.
For the same reason, he and the other students followed classes like "Breathing," "Far Sight," and "Listening" without complaint.
Swordsmanship was subdivided just as finely. There were no broad "Swordsmanship" classes for first-years. Instead: "Blocking," "Deflection," "Thrusting," "Slashing," and so on.
It felt like the academy treated them as total beginners who had just started fighting. As if they couldn't properly block, thrust, or slash at anything. It bruised their pride and frustrated them...
But Ban loved it beyond words.
If he returned to Shionel Village now, he could overpower even Aidan. Not just there, but in most cities, he'd be treated as a force to reckon with.
And yet, they treated such strength like babbling infancy.
How high must their standards be to act that way?
His blood boiled.
As long as someone told him he wasn't strong yet,
He could keep getting stronger.
§
It was around a month after the semester started.
Slashing.
Thrusting.
Blocking.
Repelling.
Deflection.
The swordsmanship professors, infamous for their grumpiness and strictness—even they were left speechless before Ban.