The Weaklings
The man who had introduced himself as Schwarz kept his hand extended for a handshake. When Kyle refused to take it, he withdrew with a soft chuckle. The situation could have come across as deeply insulting, yet Schwarz brushed it off lightly, as if it truly meant nothing to him. It didn’t feel like an act—he genuinely didn’t seem to care.
“Schwarz… Never heard that name before. What do you want with me?”
“Hmm. I came to meet a promising young swordsman with a bright future. I was planning to sample that level for myself, but… I’ve changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m full right now.”
The way Schwarz’s eyes sparkled as he said it made one thing clear: this wasn’t some mundane comment about having just eaten. It was psychological, not physical. It meant he had run into something that satisfied him on a deeper level before arriving here.
Kyle was still trying to guess what that something might be when he realized Schwarz had closed the distance. He took a cautious step back.
“No need to look so frightened. You look delicious enough as it is. I won’t touch you right now.”
“…Why do only lunatics like you keep latching onto me?”
“Hahaha. You know as well as anyone that no one reaches Master without becoming obsessed with something.”
Schwarz licked his lips slowly, then turned and began walking away. He slipped between the students, and in the next moment, he had vanished completely.
Kyle stared in the direction he had disappeared for a long moment before turning back toward his dormitory. Schwarz. The name itself was new to him. But that fanatical gleam in his eyes brought one particular title to mind.
The Iron Fanatics… No, I think they called themselves the Holy Weapons.
A terrorist organization made up entirely of Masters. The Empire had bounties on every last one of them, but without so much as a sketch of their faces, catching them was nearly impossible. The reason one of their members had come looking for him was painfully simple.
Because Kyle had messed with one of them recently.
That pathetic piece of shit, Kayness.
A so-called Master calling in his friends because he couldn’t win by himself? That coward wasn’t even a real man. Next time Kyle saw him, he’d make sure the bastard sang soprano for the rest of his life.
With that silent vow, Kyle headed to the private training ground prepared inside his mansion and began swinging his sword. The inspiration that had struck him after witnessing another Master continued to swirl through his mind. He meticulously organized dozens—no, hundreds—of possible sword paths he could use to attack Schwarz, preparing for their inevitable clash.
“Ah, I’m sorry—”
“…No, it was my fault.”
Schwarz, who had been walking in a daze, bowed politely to the middle-aged woman he had bumped into. For a Master like him to be so lost in thought that he failed to sense an ordinary civilian approaching was unusual. But he had an excuse.
He was still basking in ecstasy.
That makes two in two days…
On his way from the kingdom to the academy to meet Kyle, Schwarz had encountered a monster in an unnamed mountain range. It was human-sized with three pairs of arms, each one gripping a sword. Shockingly, the creature had unleashed Aura Blades as it attacked him.
He had never seen anything like it in his life.
Schwarz had grown hard with excitement the moment he drew his sword.
It was perfect. Absolutely perfect—
Even now, remembering the fight made his blood sing. His mind replayed the six swords dancing through the air while his body twitched with phantom adrenaline. He chewed over the memory of that battle again and again. He hadn’t managed to kill the monster, but he swore he would the next time they met.
Lost in those thoughts, Schwarz bumped into another civilian.
“The hell—”
This time, unlike before, he didn’t apologize. Not because the man had cursed at him, but because a sword hung at the man’s waist.
“Who the hell are you?”
“…Even worthless insects like you dare to carry swords these days?”
“What? You little—”
“I’m in a very good mood right now.”
Schwarz locked eyes with the academy student he had collided with. The boy flinched, trembling under his gaze.
“If you disappear from my sight this instant, I’ll let it go. I’d rather not spoil my appetite by cutting down something so pointless.”
“Are you out of your mind…?”
“Language.”
Shhhk—!
The student only realized his lip had been sliced open after it happened. He never saw the sword being drawn. He never saw the swing. As he clutched at his ruined mouth, making muffled noises, Schwarz leaned in close.
“Make it pretty.”
“You son of a—!”
No student was going to stay quiet after having his lip cut off. The academy cadet drew his sword in a flash. Schwarz frowned and walked past him.
The boy looked around in confusion, searching for the man who had vanished from sight, but Schwarz was already gone.
“H-huh—?”
Slice. Slice. Shhhk—!
Dozens of cracks appeared across the student’s body. Then, following those lines, he split into dozens of separate pieces. Leaving behind the remains that looked like someone who had been run through a wire fence at high speed, Schwarz let out a deep sigh.
“…That just killed the mood.”
Frowning, he shook the blood from his blade and slipped back into his blissful daydream—the overwhelming swordplay of those six relentless arms.
After finishing his morning training, Kyle left his mansion and headed toward the school buildings. He tilted his head when he saw soldiers blocking the middle of the road. A crowd of curious onlookers had gathered around them, murmuring among themselves. Unable to suppress his own curiosity, Kyle joined the throng.
“What’s going on…?”
“There’s a murderer in the city…”
“The academy needs to handle this quickly…”
Ignoring the worried chatter of the residents, Kyle pushed forward to see what the soldiers were blocking off. A blood-soaked section of road. It looked like someone had died there. The strange part was the sheer volume of blood—almost as if every drop in the victim’s body had been emptied at once. Considering that losing thirty percent of one’s blood usually meant instant death, the amount here was unnaturally excessive.
“Please step back. You cannot come any closer.”
The soldiers only gave mechanical warnings, refusing to answer any questions. Someone had been murdered. That was the only fact Kyle took with him as he continued on to the academy, where he learned far more than he had at the crime scene itself.
“Hey, I heard a second-year senior got cut down on the street yesterday.”
“For real? What happened?”
“You didn’t hear? They say he was sliced into 108 pieces… It’s embarrassing for the Knight Department, honestly.”
The moment Kyle overheard the knight cadets talking, he realized they were discussing the bloody patch he had seen in the city. A second-year student had been murdered. Killed by the sword. Without any chance to fight back. As the rumors pieced themselves together in his mind, one possibility rose to the surface.
…No way.
The crazy swordsman who had told him he was “full” after seeing him. The member of the Iron Fanatics—no, the Holy Weapons. It had to be the Sword, Schwarz.
“Kyle.”
At that moment, the class representative called his name. Kyle looked up and learned that Gawain was looking for him. Upon hearing that Gawain was waiting in the headmaster’s office, he headed there immediately. He already had a pretty good idea why he was being summoned.
When he reached the headmaster’s office, Kyle opened the door without knocking and stepped inside. A powerful wave of energy washed over him.
“You’re here.”
The usual sly, snake-like headmaster and the man who normally looked like nothing more than a grumpy old veteran were nowhere to be seen. One of the academy’s cherished students had been brutally murdered. There was no way they could stay calm.
Kyle lightly brushed off the combined pressure from both men and walked further into the room.
“Old man, you called for me?”
“You already know why.”
“An academy student was killed.”
“I saw the traces. It was the work of a Master. I know it wasn’t you—but just to be sure, I’ll ask. Did you do it?”
At the same time, Kyle sensed mana flowing from the headmaster. It was a truth-detection spell. Kyle accepted the magic without resistance and shook his head.
“It wasn’t me. But I do know who the culprit is.”
“…You saw him?”
“Not exactly, but the circumstances point to one person.”
Both the headmaster and Gawain leaned forward, eyes gleaming. Who is it?
Kyle met their gazes and answered.
“Schwarz. A member of the Holy Weapons.”
“The Holy Weapons?”
“They’re also known as the Iron Fanatics.”
“…That madman is inside academy territory?”
When Kyle gave a small nod, Gawain’s grip tightened on the armrest of his chair. The wood began to splinter under the pressure of his strength. At the same time, Gawain fixed Kyle with a piercing stare.
“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you two are adults.”
“Kyle Meyer. We did not call you here to exchange jokes.”
“You don’t even understand something this simple?”
Kyle looked at the headmaster—who was pressing him aggressively—with open disdain. When the man raised an eyebrow as if to say Explain yourself, Kyle slowly laid out his meaning.
“You two are adults. If you had known a terrorist was inside academy grounds, you would have rushed out to fight him immediately.”
“Of course we would have. That is our duty.”
“And that’s exactly why you can’t.”
“…What?”
While both men tilted their heads in confusion, Kyle pointed at them in turn with a perfectly calm expression.
“An old man who hides in his room and doesn’t even know how to fight anymore.”
“…?”
“An old fossil who got injured in the war and can’t even use half the strength he had in his prime.”
“You… What the hell are you—”
Watching the two men beginning to boil with rage, Kyle leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.
“How could I possibly trust weaklings like you?”
They were simply too weak. Far too weak for him to rely on.
“This is a job for the young. I’ll handle it myself.”
In the end, it meant he was the only one who could protect this academy.