The Silence After the Duel
Free time was over. From here on out, it was the main event.
“…?”
Tisha, mid-sip of her coffee and deep in conversation, sensed something strange.
Until moments ago, Kyle had been nodding along, even chiming in with the occasional reply. Now his expression had gone blank.
“Kyle?”
“….”
“Kyle.”
“Ah—ah. Sorry, Tisha. My mind wandered for a second there….”
Kyle was the type who always listened to Tisha’s stories with full attention. She knew that better than anyone.
From the moment they first met, through their arrival at the Academy, and every day since—he had always given her words his earnest care.
Which made his current state all the more unsettling.
“Is something wrong? Is it… because of the duel the other day?”
Worry filled her voice.
Kyle waved both hands quickly at the question.
“No. Not at all. Really, nothing’s wrong.”
It wasn’t a lie. Nothing had happened—literally nothing. That was precisely why Kyle felt so confused. This was completely outside his expectations.
I figured the Minister would summon me the day of the duel. If not then, the very next day. But…
No ministerial summons. Not even a call to the Headmaster’s office.
Those black-clad men who used to approach like silent agents never showed either.
This wasn’t just any fight—it had happened at the freshmen welcome party. And he had shattered a flying sword with his bare fists, no less.
Ah, for the record: only the sword. He hadn’t shattered the person. Doing that would have sent him straight back to gym hell.
This is nerve-wracking… so nerve-wracking…
Part of him felt relieved, yet unease was sprouting in another corner of his mind.
Were they discussing something huge behind closed doors, dragging this out on purpose?
He’d almost prefer a summons and a warning—anything to kill this anxiety. There was a reason people said it was better to take the beating first.
“Hic!”
Right then, a strangled gasp came from behind him.
He glanced back and locked eyes with a female student who had just been approaching with coffee in hand.
“Eek!”
Crash!
She dropped the cup on the spot. The male student following her hurried over, calling, “What? What’s wrong?!”
“Hah!”
He sucked in a sharp breath, spun around, and bolted.
Even as the girl who’d dropped her cup shouted, “W-wait for me!”
Hey now. You should at least look after your girlfriend. Running off alone like that? You’re not cut out for long relationships. She’s going to hold this against you forever.
“Haaah.”
Honestly, it stung a little. No—it stung a lot.
What had he done? At this rate people would think he was a people-eating monster.
He hadn’t started the fight. He hadn’t even brought up the duel first. He’d simply stepped in after hearing some truly insulting remarks. And even then, he’d only broken the sword—never laid a finger on the guy himself.
Yet the current narrative boiled down to this: “The commoner freshman who picked a fight with a noble, demanded a duel, and then obliterated him with overwhelming force.”
“It’s been like this for days now.”
Tisha spoke carefully as she took in the scene. Right now, she was the only one willingly sitting at Kyle’s side.
Technically Ian counted too, but Kyle had already declared that guy off-limits from his end, so he was out.
“Can’t be helped. You fought a duel at the freshmen welcome party and smashed a sword with your fist. I’d flinch away on instinct too.”
Kyle, for his part, considered the silence a blessing.
A summons from the Minister or Headmaster was his greatest fear—but something else worried him almost as much.
Namely, that skilled swordsmen at the Academy might start throwing down challenges.
That duel hadn’t been won through proper swordsmanship. He’d tossed his blade aside and shattered a sword with a single punch.
In a situation like that, any swordsman looking to defend their pride would have every right to step up. And if that happened, the whole thing would snowball.
Endless duels. Eventually the Academy’s top fighters would get involved. Then the currently silent Minister and Headmaster might finally call him in after all.
And right there they could drop the hammer: “You’re expelled.”
I was an idiot. Why did I even do that?
He should have endured. Bitten down hard and held it in.
When they called him weak, he should have bitten his tongue if he had to, just to stay calm. When they said birds of a feather flock together, he should have taken a deep breath and—
Shit. Still, ranking me on the same level as Ian was definitely crossing the line.
Regret was pointless now. The deed was done, the duel finished, and several days had already passed.
In that time a few rumors had spread, but one fact was crystal clear: to most of the Academy’s students, Kyle had become someone you did not mess with.
Not only speaking to him—even meeting his eyes was terrifying.
“Um, Kyle? Is your hand all right?”
“My hand?”
“You have no idea how shocked I was. Charging bare-handed at someone rushing you with a sword? In that moment I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed ‘No!’ inside my head.”
Having said that, Tisha carefully took hold of Kyle’s wrist. She drew his hand up before her eyes and examined it with gentle care.
“Hmm….”
This wasn’t a casual glance. She inspected it thoroughly, worry plain in her gaze, clearly checking for any other injuries he might have taken.
“…It looks fine, thankfully. No cuts either.”
“I told you. The John Nassen baronial house puts us through some serious training.”
“You did say that. But I’ve never heard of training making a human body immune to blades. Even if it did, people still flinch in front of sharp edges.”
“Well… true.”
From Kyle’s perspective the whole thing was awkward to explain. He had simply swung his fist on pure instinct. The perfectly reasonable worry of “Will my hand be okay?” never even crossed his mind.
It had felt so natural, so familiar—one clean extension of the arm and everything was settled.
What am I, One-Punch Man?
Obviously not. He refused to trade his hair for power. Being “flawless” was fine, but being “hair-less” was a hard pass.
“I guess those stories were true after all.”
“What stories?”
“Something I heard when I was at the March. That you faced an ogre bare-handed—the one that was after the Margrave. At first I thought it was complete nonsense. How could a person fight a monster with their bare hands? Especially an ogre known for its strength.”
“…He faced an ogre bare-handed?”
A new voice cut in so suddenly that both Kyle and Tisha jumped.
Standing there was none other than the Grand Duchess of Litorio—Elga.
Soft steps.
With elegant poise she walked forward and sat herself right between Kyle and Tisha. The motion was so natural that neither of them could think to stop her.
“Fascinating. Do continue.”
“Lady Elga?”
“How long do you plan on attaching that ‘Lady’ title? Even if using only my name is still difficult, I’d appreciate it if you dropped the honorific. Is that such a hard request? This is the Academy, after all.”
Come to think of it, even Leto now simply called her “Lady Elga.” Emphasizing one’s status at the Academy was something to be avoided, and even seemingly harmless titles were falling out of use for that very reason.
“….”
“….”
Kyle and Tisha exchanged a glance, then both nodded. The silent consensus: give Elga what she wants and get this intimidating woman out of here as soon as possible.
“So, what was the story? I’d like to know as well. Won’t you tell me, Kyle?”
“It’s nothing special. The Margrave was attacked by an ogre, and I happened to save him in the process.”
“You call it ‘nothing special,’ yet every part of it is special. Margrave, ogre, rescue—all of it.”
“I just got lucky.”
“If luck is all it takes to face an ogre bare-handed, does that mean everyone else in the world is simply unlucky?”
The unspoken, almost cute threat was crystal clear: if you don’t tell the story properly, I will keep picking at this forever.
In the end Kyle raised the white flag and gave a brief account of that day.
“…So you faced the ogre that was after the Margrave with your bare hands—and even subdued it?”
“As I said, all I did was block it once. Ian handled the rest.”
“Ian?”
“The male student who was originally supposed to take that duel the other day. He and I both received the Margrave’s recommendation letters.”
“…Ah. I see. The infamous loudmouth with no filter.”
At Elga’s words Kyle nearly snorted aloud. Not a single part of that description was wrong. She had scratched the itch perfectly.
“Still, subduing an ogre bare-handed is far more interesting than simply killing it with a sword.”
“I did spend a few days aching afterward.”
A lie. He had eaten well, slept well, and been perfectly fine. If anything, it had felt like a free workout, which left him in an excellent mood.
“….”
Meanwhile Elga turned her gaze to Tisha sitting across from Kyle.
This girl… right. She said she was interested in shamanism.
The continent was already dominated by magic. Anything else was dismissed as heretical sorcery. And yet here she was at the Academy of all places, studying shamanism—and as a mere commoner without noble backing, no less.
Elga was curious why she had chosen such a difficult path, but she didn’t ask. No matter how carefully she phrased it, the question would never sound kind. Creating unnecessary friction that way would be unwise.
Friends. For now, just friends…
Elga mulled over Kyle’s earlier answer, lost in thought.
What exactly did that word mean?
Did he want more than friendship while Tisha was the one refusing? Or was it the opposite—Tisha wanting more while Kyle held the line?
Hopefully the latter… wait, no. What am I even thinking?
Shake-shake!
Elga suddenly shook her head hard. Kyle and Tisha could only blink at her in confusion.