Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Back to Rainpole and the Duel
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On the way back to Rainpole.
To give Lutger and his daughter some quality time together, I had lent them a separate carriage and was traveling with my close retainers.
“Phew! It feels good to take off the mask. Even in daily life, wearing one is such a chore.”
My throat hurt from constantly modulating my voice the whole time.
“You’ve worked hard, Als. Allow me to prepare some tea to soothe your throat.”
Eonia rummaged to bring out the honey water I liked, but...
“Eonia. What do you think you’re doing?”
“...Gasp!”
At Ymir’s low warning, Eonia hurriedly switched it to a healthy herbal tea.
“Good grief. How much scolding did you get?”
“It’s simple—if the young master stops being picky with his food.”
“Ugh...”
Ymir seemed intent on driving the point home and started talking about my future diet, but just then—
Flutter! Anton, who was up on the coachman’s seat, caught a messenger bird on his arm and pulled out the letter tied to its leg.
After checking the contents, Anton halted the carriage briefly and handed the letter to me.
“Als, the Caliper forces have begun their march.”
“This soon... They’re serious about this war.”
“Yes. At the very least, they intend to seize all the lands near the border. They’re even bringing along surveyors to measure the borderlines.”
“Drinking the kimchi soup already... What’s Albad’s response?”
That was the key point.
Objectively speaking, Caliper held the advantage. This war was a burden for Albad too.
So there was a chance they might avoid full-scale conflict by ceding some nearby territory.
“According to reports, Grand General Kaien has assembled 50,000 regular troops.”
“They haven’t conscripted ordinary soldiers, then.”
“No, sir. It seems not.”
Given that it was planting season, Albad probably hadn’t drafted civilians either. Doing so could ruin the year’s harvest.
“That said, there’s a good chance no battles will break out...”
Something felt off.
Above all, this war wasn’t in my memories, which made me even more uneasy.
‘The only war I know is the Chimera War. This one was never mentioned in the game.’
Which meant it could fizzle out anticlimactically with no fighting, but I doubted it would be that simple.
Albad Kingdom wouldn’t just let the Salleon faction’s army—with a fake Wade as commander-in-chief—slip away.
“Keep monitoring their movements.”
“Yes, sir!”
The Caliper-Albad war was officially declared.
The Caliper forces swept across the border into Albad territory like a flood.
A great war erupted, but Rainpole remained leisurely, far removed from the western frontlines where the fighting raged. With no conscription, ordinary citizens didn’t feel the war’s touch.
Even back at the academy, the carefree atmosphere lingered.
“That monster’s back.”
“Ugh, gotta smell that stench again.”
“Why doesn’t he just quit the academy already?”
Whispers from the students. Estelle gripped my sleeve tightly.
Before, she’d hang her head at such insults, but now—with a cure discovered—she stared straight ahead, refusing to yield.
The academy instructor, arriving late, sighed at the usual classroom vibe and announced,
“As scheduled, this afternoon’s joint cadet training hosted by Crossing will proceed. Even regular students must attend, so don’t miss it.”
Adults-to-be needed basic cadet training, so regular students were joining this time too.
Still, the cadets were the stars.
“And Ilrain, Theodore, Helman, Liftan, Gillisiam—you cadets may need to demonstrate martial prowess in a tournament if things call for it. Prepare accordingly.”
Estelle’s face darkened at the words “martial tournament.”
Then she turned to me.
“Als, it’ll be... fine. I’ve asked someone I know for help.”
“Someone you know? Famous?”
“I think so. Can’t say the name, though...”
“Haha, then I’ll look forward to it. Besides, not everyone has to do the tournament, so maybe nothing happens.”
But either ignoring me or waiting for his chance, the Hubert guy I’d beaten before piped up.
“Heh! Fat chance! The tournament’s all about superiors picking inferiors. Heard of Rainpole’s Ten Heroes? My brother’s fifth among ’em!”
“What’s for lunch today, I wonder.”
“Hey! Don’t ignore me!”
I decided to ignore him.
*
*
*
The joint cadet training between Caliper and Crossing took place at the academy’s drill grounds.
Cadets showcased tactics and personal skills to the city’s elites and regular students.
It drew 300 Crossing regulars stationed in Rainpole, making it quite the spectacle.
Like a grand parade.
The real highlight was the cadets—who’d become officers someday—displaying their martial arts.
After the unit marches and drills, the arena was set up.
Rules were simple: Active superiors nominate inferiors for a spar, teaching a lesson.
‘I’ll win just enough and call it.’
No need to show off flashy. It was a trivial affair unworthy of it.
‘Fifth of Rainpole’s Ten Heroes, huh? Decent superior, then?’
But standing at the arena’s center wasn’t him, but someone else.
“...”
A slender man in a steel-blue helmet.
Behind him stood Crossing officers—including Hubert’s brother—rigid like wooden dummies. Probably Rainpole’s Ten Heroes, as Hubert bragged.
‘One, two, three... nine. Ten with the one in the arena.’
This must’ve been Anton’s arrangement. He’d swapped my opponent to someone safe, not Hubert’s brother.
Handled discreetly, no risk.
Glancing at Anton in the stands, he narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the man.
“Hey, Ilrain. He’s pointing at you. Get out there.”
The man silently beckoned me.
“Whatever.”
Still, good for a warmup. Against a senior officer, I could move freely without aura. Should hold my own sans aura.
“Honor on the line—fair and square! Ready!”
I lowered into stance, spear aimed at him. He dragged his drawn sword along the ground.
Never heard of such a ready pose.
‘Underestimating me? Ha, everyone’s so cocky.’
Hard to see under the helmet, but he seemed to smirk.
‘Let’s see how long that lasts.’
As the spar neared, bored spectators perked up.
Academy kids filled the seats—my class and lowers too.
Estelle clasped hands in prayer. Lutger guarded her side with Ymir, eager to see “that Als punk’s mug.”
Hubert fumed, wondering why his brother wasn’t up.
“Begin!”
Thwack! One step dash. Spear in his range.
Swoosh! Spear tip at his sword. He smoothly withdrew his hand, evading.
‘Don’t wanna draw blood, but...’
Aimed off vital, thrust once.
“Haat!”
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh! Seven swift strikes—my max speed sans aura reinforcement. Master did thirteen barehanded, so I’m far off, but this should shock him.
Expected him to eat a few or backpedal, but whoosh! He dodged in place.
“Oh...?”
Dodged my max speed?
‘Thrusts won’t cut it. Not bad.’
Time for technique.
Step closer, whoosh! Spear at his head. He dodged; I swung with grip strength.
‘Chester Style Secret! Dark Moon!’
Spear blade’s narrow but sharp—swung right, can slice.
Dark Moon: Thrust high, evade pulls swing to slyly sever carotid.
No neck here, so shoulder.
‘Done.’
But thud! He grabbed the shaft left-handed before swing.
“What!?”
Weapon caught. I yanked to retrieve, but his grip was immovable.
‘No aura, yet?’
Similar build, yet this power gap.
“Haat!”
Closed in, using his hold to pull me fast—left fist at solar plexus.
But whoom! He swung the spear.
‘Can’t drop it...!’
Right-handed grip, I resisted max, but his strength exceeded.
“Tch!”
Released quick, ducked the sweep, elbowed groin. No spear, go vitals beyond solar plexus.
He scoffed lightly, stepped back easy evade.
“Heh.”
“Haa! Haa!”
Distance opened; situation clear.
Disarmed—over.
Ref thought so, but he tossed my spear back.
‘Skill gap...! That laugh just now. No way...!’
Gripped it; he revealed true colors.
Black aura rose, demonic aura swirling his body.
Crowd buzzed.
He leaned forward.
‘Coming!’
Clang!! Blocked his charging sword with shaft—insane speed.
‘Insanely fast!’
Didn’t even sense approach.
Instinct flared; blue aura surged on my spear, devoured by his black—not a glimmer.
No one spotted my aura.
“W-what’s that aura?!”
“Handling aura like that!?”
Martial experts gawked. Hubert’s brother paled.
No time to check.
‘This guy too!’
Clang! Repelled sword, chased with three vital thrusts—he feathered dodges, closed gap.
‘Fell for it...!’
Thud! Fist to gut.
“Guhk!?”
Aura-laced—breath stopped, rolled floor.
“Als──!!”
Estelle’s scream.
Rose fast for follow-up, too late.
Above: pitch-black aura longsword falling. Beyond my comprehension.
‘Dead!’
No dodging; next hit kills. Gap that clear.
But then.
“...!”
Ting! Ting! Ting!
Daggers from stands forced him to abandon attack.
Ymir glared fiercely from crowd, the thrower.
His hesitation:
“Hyah!”
Clang!! Crimson-black aura strike intruded, shoving him back.
“Anton...!”
Anton stood guard, stern.
“Enough! Match decided! Spar ends here!”
Announcer frowned.
“Who’re you? Bursting in to stop...”
“Defying superior’s order?!”
Anton unhelmed; officer snapped to attention.
“A-An-ton, sir!? M-match over! Over!”
But opponent spoke.
“What? True superior said nothing—over?”
Anton sighed, expecting it.
“Juras, sir. Enough joking.”
“Hmph.”
Click! Helmet off—Juras, as suspected.
He leered down.
“Not bad, Als. Sharp spear tip. Wanted Chester Style you wield, but today’s enough.”
“Hah!”
Deep sigh inside.
‘That lunatic!’
Unpredictable as ever.
*
*
*
Juras crashing the cadet training was straightforward.
“Sorry, Als. Seems Juras heard I’d arranged things.”
Anton’s plan: Swap opponent, blunted weapon.
Zero injury risk.
Juras learned, subbed himself.
“Not your fault. Lunatic’s elsewhere.”
The lunatic chuckled nonstop.
“Tried teaching you a lesson?”
“What grand lesson makes you crash kids’ play?”
“Beware hubris. You entered lax, no guard—assuming inferior foe.”
“That’s...”
“Fine for peerless master, but see? Couldn’t handle my strike.”
“Who’d expect someone your level in kids’ game?”
“Your skills look kids’ game to me?”
“Tch.”
Ilya Master, silent till now, shook head.
“Not wrong, Als. I’ve said it: Treat every bout life-or-death, stay vigilant. Unavoidable result, but hubris in heart? Fix it.”
“Sigh... Yes, conceded. Wasn’t cautious.”
Could’ve refused via Anton—nix match or training.
Rash entry? Hubris maybe. Doesn’t excuse Juras’ madness.
“So? What brings you? Not just to dunk on me.”
“If so?”
“Get lost.”
“Hahaha! Yes, business. Else why come?”
Handed Anton appointment scroll.
“Juras, sir. This...?”
“Anton, from now—you’re Rainpole’s Chief Administrator.”
“...!”
“Knows what that means.”
“City’s full authority delegated...”
“Exactly.”
Eyed me.
“All Duke’s arrangement. Eases your Rainpole ops.”
“King Paraine...”
With Anton under me, Rainpole’s mine effectively.
Caliper turf separate, not total.
“You’ve plans for that too? Rainpole no random base.”
“No comment. That all?”
“One more—main point.”
Juras gave Caliper-Albad war report.
As Crossing’s top commander, intel flowed fast.
“Read last part. This morning’s.”
─Southern Caliper forces routed Albad army. Pursuing hot.
Lost words.
“This...!”
“You get it. Yes.”
Juras grinned coldly, thrilled.
“At this rate, Caliper might fall.”