Chapter 45
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: You Shouldn't Have Done That
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(5)
10.
In front of the Military Department's armory.
Ullan had arrived at his destination. It was to attend the final lecture of the day: Weapon Techniques.
Having arrived about ten minutes past the start time, he planned to apologize to the instructor right away.
But contrary to his worries...
The lecture hadn't even begun. The instructor hadn't shown up yet.
"Why isn't the professor here?"
"Heard he's running a bit late?"
"Really? By how much?"
"About twenty minutes, I think?"
Good thing I'm not the one who's late.
He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"Ullan!"
A familiar voice called out.
It was a girl with her pale blonde hair tied up high.
Ivela Elead.
'Ah, right...'
Did she say she was taking Weapon Techniques too?
As he recalled what he'd vaguely overheard that morning, she dashed right up to him. With a cheerful greeting, she said,
"How were your classes?"
"Nothing special."
Objectively speaking, plenty had happened.
But to Ullan, they were all trivial matters, so he answered that way.
Ivela, on the other hand, seemed a little different from her usual self.
"You look a bit tired."
"D-Do I?"
"Did something happen?"
"Eh, nothing big. Just ran into someone from the previous lecture I don't care to associate with..."
Her expression darkened for a moment.
But only briefly.
She quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway, I'm good now! Still got plenty of stamina left."
She clearly didn't want to dwell on it, so Ullan let it drop.
At that moment.
Thud, thud!
Someone approached from the distance.
"Sorry I'm late."
A rugged face and gravelly voice.
The moment he saw the man, Ullan remembered where they'd met before. He was the professor who'd overseen Ullan's first special exam: the Grand Melee.
"I'm Ethan Arnop, your Weapon Techniques instructor. Before we dive into the lecture proper, let me get this out of the way first."
After that brief introduction...
Ethan got straight to the point.
"I don't know any of your skills."
"......"
His sharp gaze swept over the group.
No one averted their eyes.
Pleased by this, Ethan curled the corner of his mouth into a grin.
"I don't know what weapons you all handle or which ones you're clumsy with. So today, we're doing simple spars to gauge your abilities."
Despite the abrupt announcement of spars, none of the students stirred.
They'd already gone through something similar in prior Military Department lectures.
"First, look over there."
He pointed toward the armory interior.
When he threw open the firmly shut door, a sight greeted them: countless weapons lined up neatly.
"Grab any weapon from in there and show me what you've got. But if I catch anyone using mana, it's an instant loss, so watch yourselves."
Mana use raised the risk of serious injury.
That's why Ethan warned that he'd halt any spar the moment mana was detected.
"Each spar lasts five minutes. It's a one-on-one tournament format. If it doesn't end in time, winner's decided by effective strikes."
There were thirty-two students enrolled in Weapon Techniques.
The perfect number for a tournament.
"Finally, the ultimate winner gets a shot at squad leader for the semester."
At those words, the students' eyes gleamed.
Squad leader was a Military Department exclusive—a role much like class rep.
And the perks were substantial: easier access to supplies, grade bonuses, and a permanent record in your student file.
"Spars start with pair one. Dyan Mortesi! Ullan Bator! Step forward."
The moment his name was called, Ullan moved.
He chose his most familiar weapon: an axe. His opponent, a boy, picked a long spear.
Whoosh! Swish!
The spear whirled threateningly.
Spinning it like a windmill, he clearly had confidence in his spear skills.
But then...
"Finally, my chance."
Hostility flickered in the boy's eyes.
As if he held some grudge against Ullan. Grinding his teeth, he spat,
"Last time, I got careless and you dragged me around. But not this time—I'm not going easy on you."
"What're you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb! You humiliated me in the Grand Melee, right in front of everyone!"
The boy kept growling fiercely.
Ullan, meanwhile, looked utterly baffled.
It wasn't denial; he genuinely didn't remember the face. Watching from behind, though, Ivela knew exactly who it was.
'...Dyan Mortesi.'
One of Himmel's crew.
The guy who'd been grabbed by the collar and used as a human shield by Ullan during the Grand Melee.
'Thought he dropped out after getting hurt.'
Didn't expect him to pass.
Meanwhile, Dyan kept ranting with a twisted scowl.
"Because of you, I was stuck in the hospital for a whole week. Missed the entrance ceremony too."
"......"
"So today, right here, I'll settle that Grand Melee score. I'll carve the Mortesi family's spear arts into your flesh and bone!"
His eyes blazed with fury.
Ullan's remained impassive.
No matter how hard he racked his brain, nothing came up. Just as he was about to give up...
"Hold it. Both of you, weapons down."
Ethan suddenly stepped into the training ground.
As if he'd just remembered, he explained the rule he'd overlooked earlier.
"Forgot to mention: for these spars, you each pick your opponent's weapon."
"......Pardon?"
"Observe your foe carefully and hand them the weapon they seem worst with. Improves your odds. Ullan, you're up first."
No sooner had Ethan finished than...
Dyan's face crumpled.
'No way that's fair!'
It gave away what weapons you handled well.
Worse, Dyan was hopeless with anything but the spear. That's why he'd signed up for Weapon Techniques—to learn others.
Never imagined this twist.
As he stood there flustered...
An unexpected whisper reached his ear.
"Pick the spear."
"W-What...?"
"You handle it well."
An answer he hadn't anticipated.
Dyan stared blankly. Watching on, Ethan asked with interest,
"You sure about that?"
"Quite sure."
"Mortesi are famed for spearwork."
"My tribe's famed for fighting."
Ullan replied indifferently.
Confidence that it didn't matter what the opponent wielded. Such arrogance drew a hearty laugh from Ethan.
"Fair enough. Suit yourselves."
Wrapping it up casually, he turned to Dyan.
"Your turn. Pick Ullan's weapon."
The words barely left his mouth when...
Dyan ground his teeth.
'That cocky barbarian bastard!'
He'd seen it clear as day.
The guy's skill with spears.
Yet Ullan picked it anyway—meaning he was so sure he'd win easily. To Dyan, it was a grave insult.
'Dares to look down on me?'
His eyes flashed with venom.
He gripped his spear tight.
'Fine, if that's how you want it...'
He had his own ideas.
Lips pressed shut, Dyan strode off. Earlier, while eyeing the armory depths, something had caught his attention.
Moments later.
Back outside, Dyan hurled his chosen item at Ullan's feet.
Thud!
A heavy object hit the ground. Ullan stared at what Dyan had tossed.
"This is..."
A rectangular object like a box.
Words printed on it:
【Fundamentals of Swordsmanship III】
-Records Imperial Intermediate Swordsmanship!
-Vast data over 580 pages!
-Recommended for skilled swordsmen!
In short...
A fairly thick "book."
11.
The book lay plainly before Ullan.
Was it the sheer absurdity of the situation?
A brief silence blanketed the training ground.
But it didn't last. A sharp voice shattered it.
"Professor, I object!"
The voice laced with strong anger.
It was Ivela. Glaring at Dyan with contempt, she protested,
"That's not a weapon! For a fair spar, make him pick again!"
Her shout ended, and the other students nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, even so, that's too much."
"Right, how do you fight with a book?"
"Though with that barbarian, who knows... maybe he could."
Opinions poured in from all sides.
Ethan sided with her.
"No idea who stocked books in the armory, but that ain't a weapon. So give Ullan a proper..."
Weapon. No more games.
That's what he'd meant to say. But Ullan beat him to it.
"I'm fine with this."
"......What?"
"Can use it as a weapon."
He brushed the dirt off the book.
And recalled a memory from his past life.
One of the Abyss Lords.
The battle against the Swamp Lord.
Its minions had one maddening trait.
'Mineral weapons didn't work.'
Steel, silver, spirit stones, monster bloodstones—anything forged from minerals was useless.
Only wooden weapons, holy power, or magic could take them down.
'But...'
Dilia had been away at the time.
The only heroes on hand were Sword Princess Ivela and a knocked-out Saintess.
The swamp minions were closing their encirclement.
In that dire moment, he'd spotted a glimmer of hope.
Something not made of minerals, but hefty enough to pack a punch when swung.
The Holy Bible.
'It worked like a charm.'
Over a thousand pages thick.
Heavier than a decent hand axe.
Perfect as a bludgeon. Ullan had smashed every minion flat and barely broken through the siege.
As the recollection ended...
Ethan asked with a furrowed brow,
"You serious?"
"Curious? I'll show you."
How to fight with a book.
Ullan spoke earnestly. Moments later, Ethan burst into absurd laughter.
"Hah! Alright, let's see it."
If the guy was game, who cared.
Permission granted...
Click!
Dyan leveled his spear tip.
Poised to charge at any second. Ivela shot Ullan a worried glance.
'No idea why he didn't switch weapons, but...'
With Ullan, it'd probably be fine.
He was already at advanced knight level.
Factor in the prowess from the Hero's Trial, and Dyan was no threat.
So she'd trust him and watch.
Her teal eyes sharpened.
"Coin drop's the signal."
Ethan flicked the silver coin mid-sentence.
It spun rapidly through the air.
All eyes locked on it until it hit the dirt.
Tok!
The dull thud was the cue.
Dyan moved first.
He closed the gap in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation, he thrust his spear.
The tip tore through the air.
Ullan raised the book.
Puk!
A clean block.
Dyan's eyes bulged. Not from the block itself, but because his hands stung like hell.
'What the...? This ain't a book, it's...'
Felt like stabbing a wooden shield.
In that split second...
Whoosh!
Ullan swung. Spotting it, Dyan retreated hastily. He passed on the opening to attack.
'Can't let those hands grab me.'
Recalling how it'd been swung like a shield before.
Dyan clutched his spear and circled, waiting for an opening while keeping distance.
Then...
Flap!
Ullan's book flew open wide.
'Now!'
Intentional or slip-up, it was a chance. Dyan's eyes flashed as he lunged without pause.
'Even if it's a trap...'
He could pull back quick.
Mortesi spear arts excelled at strike-and-retreat. Dyan smirked triumphantly.
'That's it!'
Pierce the torso right through the book.
The sharp spear hurtled in with savage momentum.
But then, the triumphant tip halted right before Ullan's nose.
Snap!
As if seized by a hand.
"......Huh?"
At first, Dyan thought Ethan had stepped in.
But no.
The spear was caught, but by the book itself. Ullan had slammed it shut, snaring the tip.
'Hmph! Pathetic trick!'
Scoffing, Dyan yanked.
A thrust now meant victory.
But the spear didn't budge.
'What? Why won't it move?'
Panicking, he tried to reel it back.
Failed again. No matter how hard he pulled, it held fast.
Then Ullan twisted the book.
Crack!
Something snapped.
The trapped spear shattered in two.
"......!?"
It broke as easily as a toothpick.
As Dyan reeled in shock...
Boom!
Ullan was suddenly upon him.
Realizing too late, Dyan paled and flailed his hands.
"W-Wait a sec!"
Weaponless, his odds were zero.
He was about to surrender when...
The book's title reflected in his eyes.
Fundamentals of Swordsmanship. The garish cover closing in smacked him square in the face.
Pwak!
A satisfying crack.
"Gaaaaah!"
Dyan screamed.
It hit like a steel shield to the face—dazed and reeling.
He staggered, unable to steady himself. But Ullan's onslaught wasn't over.
Pak! Pwak!
Two more blows in quick succession.
Blood gushed from both nostrils.
"Guh! Guh...!"
Blood streamed from his nose.
Dizziness hit; he dropped to one knee. As Ullan reared back for the finisher...
"Enough! Stop there!"
Ethan charged in.
Ignoring Dyan entirely, he clapped Ullan on the back.
"Winner: Ullan."
No one contested the call.
Everyone had seen it plain as day.
While Dyan got emergency treatment, Ethan asked curiously,
"Ullan, got a question."
"Shoot."
"Why not smash with the edge?"
Would've hit harder.
The Fundamentals series was notorious for its blunt corners. Used right, it doubled as a mace.
Yet Ullan never once used them. Ethan voiced his puzzlement, and Ullan answered flatly,
"That'd shatter his skull."
"......"
After that curt reply...
No one in the area could laugh.
It felt entirely plausible for Ullan.
Dyan, who'd actually taken the hits, shuddered violently upon hearing it.
"Ahem! Next spar, let's go!"
Ethan's flustered shout kicked things off again.
The spars continued.
How much time passed?
Soon, the final match loomed.
Ullan stepped onto the training ground. He stared silently at his opponent across from him.
Pale blonde hair whipping in the wind.
Teal eyes burning straight and true.
His opponent was none other than Ivela Elead.