Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Like Master, Like Disciple (3)
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All night long, Erendel and I racked our brains together. The topic of our discussion, which dragged on until we'd drained two bottles of wine, was singular.
How do we pick out the usable gems from this pile of trash?
"Can't we just keep it simple?"
I shook the glass with a bit of wine left in it as I proposed a highly efficient solution.
"We call it a graduation rehearsal and rent out an island. Release about fifty magic beasts there. Three days later, whoever's still alive passes; the rest fail. Clean and neat, right?"
You know how it goes in those academy stories in novels—the standard survival exam that's practically a national rule.
They confine monsters to a limited area and score based on kills or survival time. I'd heard this academy does something similar for third-year practicals.
Of course, just once, and even that's with every safety measure in place, like a damn field trip. That's the problem.
But Erendel recoiled at my suggestion, shaking her head vigorously.
"Hey, you lunatic! What the hell do you think those magic beasts are to you? Give me your criteria."
"Hmm... well, dragons, wyverns? And an orc lord or so?"
"..."
Erendel pinched the bridge of her nose.
"They're cute pets by your standards! Did you see the level of these kids? They're shaking so bad they can't even cast properly for fear of mana backlash."
She clicked her tongue.
"Dragons? Wyverns? The whole student body would be wiped out in five minutes flat. You wanna see the academy shut down? Trying to dry up the Empire's talent pool?"
"Hmm..."
I couldn't argue back. I'd momentarily forgotten my standards were from five hundred years ago, on the front lines fighting to prevent humanity's extinction. But were there even any talents here to begin with?
Normally, I'd toss them straight into the meat grinder and make them crawl, but sift rocks from gems before grinding them all to dust, and it's pointless.
To polish a gem caked in mud, you gently wash off the dirt first—not smash it with a sledgehammer.
"Then let's do it in stages."
In the end, I conceded a step.
"Step-by-step training. Start from the basics: burn out the flower gardens in their heads and instill some sense of reality."
I tapped the student roster on the table with my finger.
"With their family honor on the line, they won't lack motivation. And we're the Emperor's proxies, right? Push it as an imperial decree, and they can't complain. That's what power's for."
"True, nobles live and die by honor."
Erendel nodded in agreement.
Our eyes met in midair. No words needed—we were on the same wavelength. Battlefield experience doesn't just vanish.
"Tomorrow's gonna be fun. Curious about your disciple's skills too."
I grinned and downed the last of the wine.
The next morning, in the dean's office.
"Pardon? You mean... a practical exercise?"
The dean blinked blankly after hearing my proposal.
"We'd like to conduct something like a practical to closely assess the students' levels ourselves."
I put on a serious face and invoked my authority as an imperial inspector.
"Judging solely from papers is unfair, isn't it? To truly gauge their potential, we need to see it firsthand and teach them—that's a proper audit."
"Oho...!"
The dean's face lit up.
He didn't know our true identities, but he seemed to think having high-ranking imperial envoys personally instruct students would boost the school's prestige.
"Of course! An excellent idea! It'll be a great honor for the students too! Such a chance to receive noble imperial guidance doesn't come often!"
"So you'll allow it?"
"Naturally! Shall I assemble the entire student body in the grand hall? Or focus on the fourth-years...?"
"First the fourth-years, especially the top scorers and..."
I paused briefly.
"No. Call everyone. The so-called underachievers and troublemakers too—all of them. Mix 'em up to see real skill. Especially that student Yuria—mandatory attendance."
"Understood. I'll prepare right away!"
As the dean excitedly rose from his seat, I added a quiet warning.
"Oh, and Dean."
"Yes?"
"Clear out the infirmary beds in advance."
"...Pardon?"
"And have the healers on standby. Stock up plenty on bandages and potions too."
"What do you...?"
The dean shot me an uneasy look, but I just gave a meaningful smile instead of answering.
"Lessons are learned with the body, after all."
The academy grand hall.
The massive auditorium, built to hold several hundred, buzzed like a marketplace.
"Ugh, what a pain. What's this special lecture crap? I had plans to get a robe fitted downtown today."
"Imperial envoy, they say. Probably just show our faces and grab lunch."
The noble cadets lounged with legs crossed, venting complaints. To them, this wasn't a learning opportunity—just an annoying interruption to their precious tea time.
But the commoner students' eyes burned with intensity. They gripped the frayed cuffs of their uniforms, tense.
And amid the clamor, one section in the center of the hall stood eerily empty, as if under a barrier.
At its heart sat Yuria, legs crossed arrogantly. She yawned boredly, filing her nails.
Creeeak.
The giant doors swung open, and two figures entered. No ornate uniforms or gleaming medals—just a man with a sword at his hip and a woman in a deep-hooded robe.
"What? That's the envoy?"
"Servants? Look at their rags."
Snickers rippled through the students like waves. Ignoring the stares, I stepped to the center podium mic.
Erendel stood behind me, arms crossed, squinting as she scanned the hall. Probably hunting for Yuria.
Good thing. Easy to spot in her outcast throne... er, VIP seat.
"Ahem. Nice to meet you, Empire's rising stars."
I spoke into the magic amplifier.
"No intros needed. Knowing my name won't help your lives one bit. Just call me Supervisor."
"..."
"We're splitting the undergrads now. Sword users to the left, staffs to the right. Move."
"What...?"
"Why's he talking like that...?"
"Hurry up, or I'll make you walk on your heads instead of legs."
Kwach!
The air grew heavy as lead. Just a casual mana release, but the aura from someone who'd clashed life-or-death with demons in the Great War carried no serenity.
Overwhelmed by my presence, the students scrambled apart. In seconds, the hall divided left and right.
"Alright, today's simple."
I plucked a wooden training sword from the rack.
"Sparring."
"Pardon...?"
A front-row guy in shiny plate armor blinked.
"Sparring? We're carrying real swords, though..."
"That's why I'm using a bokken—I'll go easy. Draw steel against you lot, and it's not sparring; it's slaughter."
"...!"
Insult. To honor-bound knights-in-training, nothing stung worse. Their eyes blazed with fury.
I tapped my shoulder with the bokken. Naturally, no plans to use a real sword or demon blade on these kids.
"Rules are easy. Scratch me once—even brush my collar—and you pass. Fail... well, imagine it. Tomorrow, I'll drill basics into your bones."
I smacked the floor with the bokken.
"Confident ones first. First come, first served."
A tall, blond guy strode forward confidently at my call. His armor bore a flashy house crest; his sword screamed masterwork.
"Leo, eldest son of the Count of Lotric."
He glared at me.
"Supervisor, you seem like some desk-jockey without combat experience—bit cocky, aren't you? Real swords aren't toys."
Shing—
He smirked and drew, blade glinting coldly.
"I won't take responsibility if you get hurt."
"That all? Give it everything. Aura Blade's fine."
"...Pardon?"
Leo's face stiffened.
"Use Aura Blade. Coat your sword in mana for reinforcement. Basic knight stuff, right?"
"..."
Leo's eyes wavered. The students behind him looked flustered too.
"What? Do it. Why stand there gawking with a bare blade?"
I tilted my head, feigning ignorance.
"No way... fourth-years can't even manage it? Empire knight aspirants?"
"That's...!"
Leo's face flushed crimson.
"Aura Blade is an advanced technique only elite knights can wield! How could a mere cadet like me...!"
"What?"
A laugh burst out.
"Advanced? You're joking. Coasting mana on a blade—advanced? Back in my day, cooks used Aura to chop meat finer."
"Don't lie! That's absurd...!"
"Absurd's your skill level. No mana affinity training? You didn't skip it for 'knight' training, did you?"
Conscripts mimicked it after three months' drill, and now it's 'elite'? This country flushed its future down the drain.
"Hey, you little shit—ugh, forget it. My fault for expecting anything."
I shut my mouth before saying more. Yapping would just raise the odds of half-killing him.
"Come at me anyway. No Aura? Pour out everything you've got. Let's see how great Lotric swordsmanship is."
"You'll regret this...!"
Leo gritted his teeth and charged, pride wounded.
And the next instant...
Kwang!
A massive boom echoed as Leo slammed into the wall. Nothing fancy—just a preemptive punch before his attack landed.
"Ugh... urk..."
Leo foamed at the mouth and passed out.
"You fail. Training starts tomorrow. I'll have Aura flowing from you in a month."
The students paled. Better to drop out than train under that monster, their faces screamed.
Then—
"Excuse me."
A flat voice broke the silence.
"Send us home quick if we finish fast?"
All eyes snapped to one spot. The slouched girl in the corner raised her head.
Yuria von Erendel.
Hands in pockets, she sauntered forward.
"Said first come earlier. Everyone's chickening out, so I'll do it."
"Oho..."
She's got the spark.
"Good. I like the guts. Step up. Magic division goes to this lady beside me..."
I pointed to Erendel, but Yuria shook her head.
"No."
"Huh?"
"I'll take you."
Her finger pointed squarely at me, not the robed Erendel.
"You look stronger than her."
"..."
Erendel's shoulder twitched beside me.
"Why? Mages should fight mages for fairness."
"In the North, they taught to take the boss to end it quick. You're the boss here."
Yuria aimed her staff matter-of-factly.
"Don't wanna waste time on small fry. One-shot and grab lunch?"
Crack.
Erendel's staff grip splintered. I bit my lip to stifle a laugh.
This is getting fun.
"Hold on."
Erendel stepped forward.
"Student, eyesight issues? Or abysmal mana sense."
"...?"
Yuria eyed her annoyedly.
"He might be boss, but my magic's superior. And charging a swordsman head-on? Suicide. Didn't they teach basic tactics?"
"Hey, lady."
"What...? L-Lady?"
Erendel's robe quivered at the forbidden word.
"Mana pool doesn't make you strong. This old guy's way more dangerous—why butt in?"
Yuria tsked pityingly.
"Move. I don't hit the elderly."
Snap.
The sound of reason snapping echoed through the hall.
"Scram."
Erendel shoved me aside.
"Training policy change."
"Didn't you say no fighting your disciple?"
"Shut it. A disciple blind to her master... I won't sleep till I break one of her legs tonight."
Erendel raised her staff.
"I'll reteach you from scratch. Etch it bone-deep, into your soul."
"..."
A master charging her disciple for calling her 'lady'... heartwarming.
I watched, then turned to the students.
"You lot. Anyone who knows defensive magic—pile it on. Shields, barriers, whatever. Layer 'em up."
"Why all of a sudden...?"
"Or get caught in the crossfire and die."
A master-disciple clash—both hotheaded mages.
This? Best enjoyed from afar with popcorn.