Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Tournament
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“Enough.”
A low, heavy voice struck inside their heads like a hammer, stopping them in their tracks.
The cadets frowned at the sudden ache in their skulls and turned toward the source of the voice. The Dean was walking toward them.
‘Hoo...’
The Dean found the current situation deeply regrettable.
He had even offered a regenerative elixir as a prize for Do-yoon. Unlike the other instructors, the Dean believed that Do-yoon could make a strong showing in the tournament despite his mana handicap.
Of course, beating Sophie or any of the other top candidates was impossible. But the tournament's winner would be one of four anyway.
If luck had been on his side with the bracket, Do-yoon could have claimed a prize. But.
‘...An unexpected variable has arisen.’
Normally, a cadet carrying a weapon without authorization or cheating would have been caught immediately.
But the Cradle was in an uproar right now. All the instructors were distracted by the unprecedented issue of the Boss Monster Killer.
‘It’s all my fault.’
Even he, the Cradle’s top authority, had been preoccupied with the Killer matter. How could his instructors have stayed on top of things?
It was all due to his own shortcomings, the Dean thought.
‘...But now is the time to focus on my role.’
Mistakes could be fixed later. More importantly, sorting out the current mess was the proper conduct for a Dean.
He fixed Torn with cold, sunken eyes.
“Torn.”
“W-What?”
Torn replied with a voice he couldn’t control, trembling despite himself. It felt like something was tightening around his throat.
The Cradle was one of the most vital facilities for the Allied Forces. No nation would place just anyone in charge of such a place.
A mere freshman Apostle like Torn could barely withstand the Dean’s gaze, honed by a true powerhouse.
The referee instructor nodded to the assistant instructor. With the Dean stepping in like this, the situation was effectively over.
Hundreds of duels were underway. There wouldn’t be any swords left in the warehouse. They’d need to move fast to procure one.
The assistant instructor gave Torn a pitiful look before sprinting toward the swordsmanship cadets’ arena.
“The Cradle will thoroughly investigate this incident to determine whether it was mere administrative negligence or someone’s malicious act.”
“...Why are you telling me this...”
“And if it’s proven that someone intervened—and if that person is a cadet—they will be referred to the committee for cheating in the exam and concealing an unreported weapon.”
“...”
Apostles fresh from other dimensions had highly unstable mental states, making them full of potential risks.
That was why carrying weapons, poisons, or the like from other dimensions without reporting to the Cradle was strictly forbidden. They had been drilled on this multiple times in the first week.
“We don’t even need to bring cheating into it. Unauthorized weapon possession will be judged as harboring terrorist intent within the Cradle.”
“W-What...!”
“You will be expelled from the Cradle and lose all protections and benefits provided to cadets thereafter.”
His words were as cold as a death sentence, chilling to the bone.
Expulsion from the Cradle meant being branded a risk factor. Regardless of your stats, you’d be seen as a potential criminal who could burden any group you joined.
Naturally, no guild or organization would take on such a liability.
Torn cried out in a fit of hysteria.
“T-That’s insane! Terrorism over a single rusty spear like that...? T-That’s ridiculous framing! I never intended anything like that!”
Someone let out a deep sigh. It was that idiotic a response. He might as well have admitted his guilt outright.
Naturally, no one sided with him.
The atmosphere was ice-cold. He had no allies here.
Even without his earlier statements, in a clash between a problem child like Torn and a model cadet like Do-yoon, it was obvious whose side the organization would take.
“Of course, if it’s just negligence, no one will face such punishment. So Torn has nothing to worry about.”
“Y-Yeah, right. Who would do something like that? But...”
“I’ve got the sword!”
Torn’s words cut off. The assistant instructor who had gone to the swordsmanship cadets’ arena returned with Do-yoon’s sword.
“B-But...”
However, the sword he brought wasn’t in great shape either.
Rust spotted the blade here and there, and the edge was full of nicks.
It was far better off than the spear Torn had tampered with, but still useless for real combat. Especially against a massive hammer.
Torn, who had been grimacing under the Dean’s scrutiny until moments ago, simply grinned at the sight of the sword.
“Ah...”
“It’s in bad shape again...”
The cadets reporting it sighed in regret.
“Thank you.”
Do-yoon calmly accepted the sword.
“...Cadet Han Do-yoon. If you wish, we can postpone the match. We just need to wait for one of the ongoing sword matches to finish. With a sword like that...”
“No. This will do.”
“Pardon?”
Do-yoon walked calmly to his designated spot. The instructor wondered if he’d misheard.
“Do you really intend to fight with that sword?”
“Yes.”
“Hoo...”
The instructor sighed.
‘This is bad.’
Han Do-yoon seemed thoroughly pissed off. That was why he was acting so recklessly.
Even choosing to use a sword made no sense. Achieving mastery in fist arts at such a young age was astonishing enough—how much swordsmanship could he have learned on top of that?
If it were a spear, maybe, but a sword out of nowhere? And grabbing that worthless thing out of pride?
‘I’d be furious too in his shoes...’
But this wasn’t right. For his own sake, someone had to stop him. Han Do-yoon had a great reputation among the instructors, making it even more necessary.
A referee overstepping into neutrality wouldn’t look good, but the instructor pitied Do-yoon’s situation more.
“...Cadet Han Do-yoon. I understand how you feel, but for now, cool your head...”
But he trailed off mid-sentence.
‘...Huh?’
He looked into Do-yoon’s eyes. Fixed on Torn, his pupils held not a shred of emotion.
No anger, no scorn, no injustice. Just... cold irises that didn’t look human, staring at Torn.
‘W-What... is that?’
Were those really the eyes of a man in his twenties?
A chill crawled up the instructor’s neck. He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm and involuntarily stepped back.
“A-Alright then... We’ll proceed with the match.”
At his declaration, the onlookers sighed in unison. It was over. The outcome was sealed.
“Ah, seriously...! Just hold back a little...!”
“I get being mad, but...”
“That fucking cow bastard. I wanna kill him for real.”
Everyone condemned Do-yoon’s decision, but they understood on some level. The situation was too unfair for him.
And at the same time, they jeered at Torn.
“Cow bastard! Criminal scum!”
“What a worthless breed...”
“Let’s see who the superior male is! You think you’re a fucking male!? Cut your dick off!”
But despite the backlash, Torn burst into laughter.
“Puhahaha! Yeah, let’s have at it! We’ll decide who the superior male is through fair competition!”
Just when his plan seemed doomed, his opponent’s pride had turned the tables in his favor again.
‘Stupid human!’
If another match ended and a decent sword arrived, he’d be in trouble. He pressed the referee.
“Start the match already!”
“...”
The instructor openly frowned. But with Do-yoon acting like this, he couldn’t intervene further.
“...Both cadets, step forward.”
There was no other choice. As Torn said, they had to proceed.
Watching this, the Dean stared at Do-yoon in bewilderment.
‘...Why? He’s not one to let pride get the better of him like this.’
It was completely at odds with the Do-yoon he’d observed before.
Just as he wondered if Do-yoon had always been like this, someone beside him exclaimed in admiration.
“Whoa...! He really is the national representative Han Do-yoon!”
‘Hm?’
The Dean turned his head. It was a cadet from swordsmanship class. He must have just finished his match and come over after hearing the rumors.
But there was one peculiar thing.
‘An Earthling?’
He was an Earthling, just like Cadet Han Do-yoon.
“...Cadet. What did you just say?”
“Huh? What about?”
“Didn’t you call Cadet Han Do-yoon a national... something?”
“Oh, that.”
Not realizing who was in front of him, he chattered excitedly. It couldn’t hurt to get friendly with the instructors, who were like scouts.
“I’m from the same Earth country as him, and his name and face rang a bell all this time.”
“Cadet Han Do-yoon?”
“Yeah. So I thought about it, and it turns out he has the same name as our country’s kendo national team member?”
“Pardon?”
“But he was using fists and spears, so I figured it wasn’t him. Now he’s stepping up with a sword, so I must’ve been right! That’s Han Do-yoon, the kendo national representative!”
The Dean didn’t follow. It seemed Han Do-yoon was some famous sword figure, but...
“What’s a ‘kendo national representative’?”
“Huh? Oh, right, no such thing here. Uh... well...”
He pondered how to explain it.
Then, a perfect fantasy-world term flashed in his mind. Yes, this was it!
“Sword Saint! He was the Sword Saint on Earth!”
“...!”
The Dean was left speechless.