Class Assignment Exam (2)
Screech—their swords let out a scream called friction. Ignoring it, he channeled his strength and smacked the opponent's blade away with force.
Clang! Surprised by the unexpected power, the guy bulged his eyes and leaped back, creating distance.
Yep, good call watching Theo.
"Grrr...."
"......"
Looking down at the guy who was now foaming at the mouth and passed out, Aren couldn't help but crack a wry smile. Well, he played the bait role perfectly, so no need to chew him out.
"What, surprised? Didn't expect some real talent mixed in with the freshman riffraff, huh?"
"......?!"
Growling outright with blatant provocation, Aren's words made the guy's pupils shake.
"...What are you talking about?"
"Cut the crappy acting now that you're busted. I already know everything."
Aren flashed a mocking grin at the guy trying to play dumb too late. But the bastard shrugged it off, acting all nonchalant to the end.
"You his friend? Getting emotional, are we? I just won fair and square."
"Oh yeah? And taking the life of someone you've already beaten is just fine?"
Aren shrugged mockingly as he shot back, making the guy scowl. Yeah, it was bullshit from the start. If this creep was really just a test participant, he'd have gone for the gem in Theo's bracelet, not his life.
And that sword strike just now... it was no joke.
Aren had clocked it from that single clash. This guy wasn't some academy student level.
Especially...
"I was waiting anyway. Knew some punk like you would show up."
"...What?"
In academy stories, you always get raids at the entrance ceremony or spies stirring shit among the students—total cliché. He'd had a bad feeling about this class assignment exam from the get-go, but the guy popping out right on cue almost made him laugh.
Now it's confirmed.
Still, Aren owed this spy a thanks. Thanks to him, Aren could be dead certain that the pathetic lump passed out next to him—Theo—was the protagonist.
Time to repay the favor, then.
Hummm—
"Sword Aura..!"
As Aren infused mana into his blade, a hazy Sword Aura rose like heat shimmer. The guy's mouth dropped open in shock.
"How is a freshman Sword Expert?!"
"No time for explanations. Hurry up and spill. What's your deal? Got some group backing you? Why target this guy? Any other collaborators? What's the infiltration plan?"
Aren rapid-fired questions like a machine gun. The guy twisted his face like it wasn't worth answering and gripped his sword tighter.
"Tch, die!"
"Nah. I'm faster."
Whoosh!
"......!"
Clang!
Without even taking stance, Aren lunged forward and swung his mana-charged sword with all his might. The guy blocked it. His blade shimmered with the same dark crimson mana as Aren's.
Aren didn't flinch—instead, he grinned.
"Getting hasty, huh? Real skills slipping out."
"Ngh..!"
Biting his lip in fury at Aren's jab, the guy spat, "...Which side are you on?!"
"Nah, that's what you need to tell me."
The icy rage in his voice matched his mood perfectly.
Clang!
The guy parried Aren's sword cleanly and reset his stance. Dark crimson mana rose from his body like haze, settling into his blade. Not some hack like Aren—a mature Sword Expert. The pinnacle of first-class.
This guy might even top Camilla.
Tsk, that's trouble.
"I'll rip your tendons and make you talk about how you knew."
"Fuck off."
Aren flipped him the bird casually, and the guy charged right in.
Screech!
Screeech..!
Ngh, tough bastard. The sword's weight, the density of mana in it—leagues above anyone Aren had fought so far. Especially that bloodlust pouring off him. No, killing intent. Thicker and heavier than the grand duchess's earlier.
Clang!
Ching!
"That all you got?! All talk for charging in so cocky!"
"Bluffing much?"
But the guy's face wasn't so smug either. With every clash, the leisure drained away.
Shwick!
"......!"
The moment Aren slipped for a split second, a sharp blade aimed at his shoulder. He barely dodged, sweeping the guy's sword upward from below.
Whoosh!
"Guh..!"
Out of nowhere, flames burst from the guy's left hand. Aren bulged his eyes and barely pulled back. But his reaction lagged a hair, singeing his right arm.
Damn, stings. More importantly, what the hell? Wasn't this guy a swordsman?
Aren eyed the guy's right hand. A small paper talisman inscribed with tiny script clutched there.
"Didn't think I'd waste this on a punk like you... but can't drag this out anymore."
Magic Scroll..!
That pricey shit?! Gritting through the burn, Aren went to regrip his sword when the guy flicked his right hand, launching something into the air.
It popped with a bang midair...
"...Fuck, you got all kinds of tricks."
Dozens of ice arrows materialized, aimed right at him. This is cheating, right?
Shwick!
Aren dove into the barrage slicing through the air. But the guy wasn't standing still—he slipped through the arrows and closed in instantly, swinging.
Aren's eyes tracked it, but an ice arrow nailed his sword arm. His body lagged following it.
Just as the guy's blade reached to split his skull...
Squelch!
The grotesque sound of flesh tearing rang out.
For a split second, his brain blanked. Not because his head was rolling—no.
Just...
"Y-You fucking bitch... sneaking from behind like a coward..."
The sword had pierced not him, but his attacker.
Dark red blood poured from the guy's mouth, his gut fully run through.
And from behind him, a familiar face emerged from the shadows.
"...Fool. You expect fairness on the battlefield?"
"Sh-Shit..!"
Thud.
The guy's body crumpled onto the cold dew-kissed grass. The woman behind stepped fully into view.
Black jacket newly slung over her shoulders—otherwise, exactly as before.
"Bronheim... Grand Duchess..?"
Saying her name, she approached with her signature emotionless face.
Silvena Bronheim. The northern grand duchess herself, here to save his ass.
Shhh—
As if announcing the fight's end, the white mana coiling her sword like frost on dawn grass dispersed with a quiet hiss.
Sword Aura, huh. As expected, top-tier skill.
"You okay? Hurt anywhere?"
"Yeah, perfect timing. Arm's a bit singed, that's all."
Aren shrugged at her as she checked him over. Concern flickered in her eyes at the burn.
She clearly thought she'd been late.
"Anyway, I overheard... who the hell is she?"
"Beats me. We'll find out. Was wondering myself."
"...Not a legit student here for the test, that's for sure."
"Bingo."
Aren grinned at her quick uptake, brushing dirt off his clothes. Thanks to the grand duchess's killer entrance, one mess down...
"......!"
...or so he thought, relaxing—until the passed-out guy stirred, hand dipping into his pocket.
Too late. Another Magic Scroll, same as before.
Aren launched himself on reflex.
"Grand Duchess!"
BOOM──!
Their voices overlapped in that instant, swallowed by the massive explosion.
＊
Riiiing—
A shrill tinnitus rang in her ears. Silvena hadn't even registered what happened.
By the time she came to, the guy she'd just saved was already hurtling toward her.
"Grand Duchess!"
Whoosh!
His urgent shout hit first, then the sensation of being yanked away.
Her vision flipped, consciousness blanked briefly, then snapped back.
What just happened?
A massive crater scarred what had been lush grass moments ago. Blinking blankly, Silvena tilted her head slightly.
"Hah, huff..!"
There he was, braced over her on his elbows, panting raggedly.
Did he just shield me from that explosion?
Her thoughts finally kicked in properly. But the daze lingered all the same.
Northern grand duchess. Raised in the frozen north that worshipped strength alone—to be protected by someone.
By a man, no less, whom she'd always seen as weak.
Realizing it, a faint masculine fragrance tickled her nose.
"You okay?"
As if his own battered state didn't matter.
Meeting his eyes as he checked on her first...
"I-I'm fine. You, on the other hand..."
For some reason, she couldn't look him straight in the eye.