Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Orientation -2-
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Brom—whether Vista or Baxter—is lying in the back, getting his shattered jaw treated by Maxime.
Whether he'd heard the full story from the Church or from Roland, Maxime showed no major change in expression.
The only ones shocked by this situation were the cadets.
From a common-sense standpoint, even a Platinum-rank turning a noble's son into that was obviously far from normal.
Even calling it a class, those blows had clearly crossed the line.
"The flow got interrupted because of one lunatic."
He clicked his tongue at Brom, who still hadn't come to his senses even after treatment.
"If you don't want to end up like that, swing your weapon with everything you've got. You can even kill the instructor if you manage it. The academy will take full responsibility."
"Any cadet who lands even a single effective hit on the instructor this semester will get perfect scores for the entire term. And those with perfect scores won't even need to attend class."
Next up was the Swordsmanship Department.
I remembered him as the cadet who'd answered my question back when we were talking about black mages.
His grip on the longsword was odd.
Leaning his upper body forward, he let the blade hang down low.
"Swordsmanship Department, Jun Crowder."
With the previous cadet's example right in front of him, Jun lowered his stance and circled me sideways.
Unique style. Hunter family?
His walking gait and the angle of his tilted torso were exceptionally distinctive.
The longsword he held looked like it might scrape the ground.
Whoosh.
Jun hurled the longsword in my hand at me, then chased right after it.
Thud.
I snatched the longsword out of the air with my right hand and focused on Jun's own.
A standard-issue dagger hidden in his sleeve slipped out.
So the longsword was a bluff from the start.
I swung the caught longsword upward, sending the dagger flying backward just before it reached his grasp.
Then I laid the flat of the blade against his ankle and struck.
Crack!
Jun spun half a turn in midair and tumbled down.
Crash!
Landing from the spin, he stared up in bewilderment.
"What the... I lost."
"Your mana circulation speed inside your body is too slow. If you're going to pull unexpected moves like that, focus more on your breathing technique to keep up with burst speed."
"...I'll keep that in mind. Thank you!"
Leaving him hobbling off to Maxime while clutching one leg, my gaze shifted to the Knight Department.
"Next."
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"Your lower body's weak. Without leg strength, keeping your stance that high will get your head lopped off!"
"Overloading mana into reinforcement doesn't make it more efficient. Can't you feel the undigested mana leaking out uselessly?"
"Pull your elbows in tight when you slash!"
"Why are you spreading your legs so wide? Trying to get kicked in the groin?"
As one cadet after another piled up as casualties, beads of sweat finally formed on Maxime's forehead.
I'd called this just a taste today, but at this rate... I'd need to bring a few more idle priests for the next class.
"Seria Electra."
A shortsword in one hand.
A round shield in the other.
A perfect balance of sword and shield.
She'd wrapped cloth around her shield-grip hand and bound it tight to avoid dropping it.
That kind of spirit isn't bad.
Shield raised high, peeking out just enough to see, she advanced step by step.
First choice: thrust.
Not the best pick at this range.
"At this distance, even if the whole shortsword blade sinks in, it won't be lethal."
"Nngh!"
She gritted her teeth and swung.
A textbook one-handed sword combo.
Straight out of the manual.
"Cadets lack wrist strength, so against equals or stronger foes, go for lethal thrusts. With this power, you can't cleave bone in one go. Otherwise, you'll just die pointlessly."
Her attacks showed effort and thought.
Anyone could tell she'd worked hard.
Among average swordsmen, she might even hear she had talent.
But Lofty Academy was a gathering of prodigies.
This level wouldn't cut it going forward—that much was true.
As time dragged on, mana depletion mixed with impatience, leading to big, sloppy swings.
I stepped back, dodging her slash.
Pushing her exposed elbow sent her mana-charged sword crashing into her own shield, toppling her flat.
"Ugh."
Her face flushed red from hitting herself with her own blade—nearly matching her hair color.
That impact must've fully dislocated her wrist, the one that blocked the sword.
Still, standing back up with shield raised without a word deserved praise.
Her venomous glare was the polar opposite of Liliane's.
"Raaah!!"
She swung again, but with less force than before, her sword-grip hand trembling visibly.
"Don't get excited. I said thrust, not slash."
Clang!
Her grip gave out, and the sword slipped from Seria's hand.
"Go get treated."
"...Thank you."
She bowed her head deeply, picked up her sword, and shuffled off.
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"Next."
Finally, the moment I'd been waiting for—the protagonist's turn.
Face stiff, he stood before me and drew his longsword.
-Robert, fighting!
-You got this!
The heroines cheering him on? Yeah, definitely the protagonist with narrative weight.
"Robert Bolt."
The Red Myer rumor confirmed it.
A Korean soul dwelled in that body, just like in the game.
From my records, he had an incomprehensible personality—bizarre at times, spineless others, and thoroughly self-centered.
The biggest issue: boundless leniency toward himself.
In the game, it manifested as positively overcoming crises.
In reality? Who knows...
Akarite was an older work, so the protagonist shared traits with old-school light novel protags.
Selective deafness kicking in whenever a heroine said something crucial.
Entangling himself with multiple without committing to any.
Unable to decide, fearing the others would leave if he picked one.
Idiot. Just catch 'em all.
Not being an adult game preventing that choice?
Even after achieving everything possible over three academy years, in the end, he tried dragging his girl back to Korea to escape Robert Bolt's parents—not his own choice.
To me, it was frustratingly indecisive.
At least better than the trash before him.
He might not know the world was a created fiction like I did, but as a dimension-hopper, protagonist luck followed him.
Parents fed him the best to raise the family name.
Just walking the road, he'd stumble on hidden pieces or damsels in distress purely by chance.
Innate skills were top-tier; no need for secret elixirs—his physical prowess was already elite.
The world practically revolved around him.
He'd probably struck out in Red Myer recently, but innate talent doesn't vanish.
Boom!!
He charged, leaving a clear footprint etched into the solid ground.
Best speed so far.
I sidestepped slightly and tripped him; Robert rolled alone, kicking up a dust storm.
"Guh!"
He closed in, swinging his longsword.
Not just movement—the swing itself had mid-heavy heft, based on an excellent physique.
Truly superb physical ability.
Consistent training on that foundation would make him a famed knight, hidden pieces or not.
However.
What the hell is this guy?
I was struggling to keep a straight face, that baffled.
This wasn't swordsmanship.
Just a strong kid flailing wildly.
The kind of hack-and-slash that'd only work on low-IQ monsters.
Hardware top-class, software garbage.
Me, wasting brainpower on this fool until now?
I clenched my fist without thinking.
Closing his eyes?
"Did you just close your eyes? Scared of getting hit? Please tell me I saw wrong."
"...?"
Slap!
My backhand snapped Robert's head sideways.
A stream of blood spurted from his mouth.
"Again."
"Raaah!!"
Glimmers of light flashed sporadically during his swings.
Things not going his way, so he kept unconsciously activating skills.
Worked fine on mediocre monsters—one skill to sweep them.
One-tool reliance over personal skill, huh...
Saw him squeeze his eyes shut again the moment he got hit.
This clown holding a sword? My eyes nearly rolled back.
"Not a single cadet here closed their eyes in fear of pain. You're the absolute worst."
"I..."
This wasn't a hidden piece or elixir issue.
It felt like the martial realm I'd devoted my life to from past lives to now was being insulted, defiled.
"Hold on!!"
"What?"
The heroine who'd tumbled earlier after a few rounds.
She looked after her own well but had a hot-tempered streak that escalated things— not my favorite.
Maxime's treatment must've wrapped up; no wounds visible.
"...Even a Platinum-rank can't just handle touching this many nobles, right?"
"Of course I can."
Wonder what she'd say.
Protagonist lame, heroine following suit?
"This barbaric class... I'll report to my parents and formally object to the academy!"
"A mere cadet defying— His Majesty's direct imperial decree?"
"...?"
This young lady seemed lost why my words went there.
Meanwhile, the protagonist glancing at Rike instead of his defender? Legendary.
"This class is based entirely on the imperial edict from the palace. Didn't every cadet here submit consent forms? Raising objections anyway... you get it, right?"
"...Even so, your blows are too harsh right now!"
"Too harsh? This is just a taste for the first class—what are you on about?"
I felt the cadets flinch at my words.
Ignoring Robert chewing his busted lip and the heroine comforting him, I called the last Swordsmanship Department waiter.
"Next."
She rose unsteadily and stepped forward.
"Rike Skadi..."