The Scorching Afternoon Sun
The afternoon sun blazed down mercilessly, turning the Imperial Academy's outdoor training grounds into a white-hot furnace. Our first-year Class 1's inaugural combat practical was originally slated for the comfortably air-conditioned Indoor Arena 1, complete with its magical cooling system. But here we were, banished to this dusty, sun-baked outdoor field.
The reason? Simple enough. A few days ago, on our first day of school, the silver-haired human weapon plastered to my side had casually let out a burst of energy and obliterated half the arena's outer wall and ceiling. Right now, it was wrapped in layers of red caution tape, undergoing a massive rebuild from the skeleton up.
Haa… leaving behind that nice indoor AC for this hell.
Sweat, dust, and grunts of effort assaulted me from all sides. These were supposed to be the empire's future—noble heirs and ladies—yet the kids had forgotten the heat entirely, swinging wooden swords and darting around like maniacs.
In the corner of the training grounds, a step away from that sweaty frenzy, a massive hackberry tree cast a cool shade over the prime bench spot. I sat there with my legs crossed, yawning hugely in perfect peace.
Kruu… yeah, chilling in the stands during PE is the golden rule.
Memories of my past life at K-High School flooded back. On sports day, sipping iced coffee under the shade tent while fondly watching the kids dash around in the blazing sun—that sweet teacher leisure.
As Reina's official exclusive squire, I'd naturally scored an exemption from Professor Asher's practical class. While everyone else wallowed in the mud and sweat, I lounged here in my crisp uniform, savoring this honeyed break.
But there was one blemish on my perfect peace.
"Aaaah— this sucks. Do I really have to go? Can't I just skip that crap and stay here with you?"
It was the silver-haired beast, Reina de Astrea, clinging to my right arm and bonking her forehead against my shoulder. Her gloved hands gripped my sleeve tight, lips pursed in a full-on pout. This girl who could freeze the whole arena with a single icy glare was acting like a delinquent high school girl dodging PE just to stick with her crush.
I activated teacher mode, patting her silver hair. "Student, you've got to participate properly in class. You're a duke's daughter—trying to flunk practicals?"
"I don't need scores. Everyone knows I'm the strongest here."
"Aigh, fine. You're the world's strongest in this story, so just go stamp your attendance and come back. Hurry up so we can hang out more, okay?"
After my coaxing, she finally stood with a reluctant huff. "Tch… fine. Since you say so, Cadel. Don't go anywhere—just sit pretty and stare at me, got it?"
"Yeah, yeah. Not running off, so go quick."
She walked to the center, turning back multiple times to wave. I waved back with a soulless smile. Only once she blended into the student crowd did I sink deep into the bench backrest and stretch luxuriously.
Haa, feels like I'm alive. Morning roll call wrecked me with those wild rumors—gotta recharge some lifespan here.
I was just closing my eyes to savor the cool breeze when—
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Rhythmic, heavy footsteps approached, and a massive shadow swallowed the pleasant shade over my face.
"Cadel Evans."
A low, suppressed growl like grinding metal. I squinted up, frowning.
Standing there was a blond giant gleaming in the sunlight—Leonhardt von Leonis, head of the emperor's faction and Class 1's practical ace—glaring ferociously. Veins bulged on his thick forearms, a hefty training sword in one hand.
What the hell's his problem now? So damn persistent.
I looked up at him laden with annoyance. His blue eyes burned like roaring flames, laced not just with battle lust but something bitterly resentful… like the pathetic jealousy of a pure macho shoujo lead.
Aha. I see the issue.
I swallowed a dry chuckle, uncrossed my legs, and sat up straight. Even if he was a transparent pup, he was still a marquis's heir ruling the empire. No low baron like me could cockily prop his chin and chat.
"Young Lord Leonis. Do you need something from me? If it's Professor Asher you're after, he's at the center."
My polite formality and blank expression made him slam his sword tip down by my feet with a thunk! Dust puffed up.
"Don't play dumb! You dodged last time using the lady's training as an excuse, but now you're just loafing in the shade!"
He bellowed, veins popping. Training kids' eyes snapped our way.
"Today, I'll test your strength! Whether a man like you deserves to stand by Her Highness—I'll confirm it with this sword!"
Haa… A long sigh escaped. After a decade in the classroom, you meet these types. Once hooked, they won't quit—passion over brains. Logic just tires your mouth. You need an ironclad adult excuse.
I replied wearily, without hiding my fatigue. "I respect your endless zeal, young lord, but I must decline your gracious offer again. Please forgive me."
"What? Declining again? What's your excuse?!"
I pulled out the ultimate Korean salaryman's evasion: health issues.
"Truth is, last night… ugh, I overdid it tossing and turning all night, and now my back's killing me."
"O…ver…did?" His fierce scowl twitched.
"Yeah. Drained every last drop, ended up pulling an all-nighter wide-eyed. Legs are jelly—can't even stand."
Pure facts. After Reina's surprise candy stick-feeding at the cafe terrace yesterday, I'd spent the night in the dorm suppressing my raging 17-year-old hormones. Stiff from her bold skinship, I woke with killer muscle aches.
I continued innocently lamenting my chronic fatigue. "No energy left to hold a wooden sword. You get it, right? A man's stamina doesn't recover overnight after a night like that."
"……."
"So, duel another time? I'd love to, but body's not cooperating."
I shrugged pitifully. This should work—like poking an old man's sore joints. Even a hot-blooded kid has a conscience.
But Leonhardt, listening silently, looked off—gravely so.
"L…last night……."
His massive frame trembled like aspen leaves.
"All night… t-tormented… overdid it……."
His blue eyes shook like in an earthquake.
"……!!"
From neck to ears, he flushed tomato-red. I swear steam whooshed from his head. Clack—roll— His proud sword dropped, kicking up dirt as it tumbled.
"Y-you beast worse than an animal……!"
"Huh?"
He clutched his burning face and backed away in disbelief.
"How… how could you do that to Her noble Highness…! All night… back breaking…! Guh!"
Hands over face, he bolted across the arena. His broad back heaved pitifully in the distance.
"……."
I blinked blankly at the abandoned sword and fleeing blond bulk.
Whoa… kid's a mountain but such a softie.
Drops the duel and runs at 'back pain.' Duh, knifing a sick guy with shaky legs just tarnishes his honor. Good kid.
Oblivious to becoming the stud who ravaged the duchess all night till his back snapped, I smiled contentedly and reclined again.
"Next practical eval! Duchess Astrea, step forward."
Professor Asher's distant call reached me. Reina, waiting in the sun, glanced my way.
Too far for details, but she mouthed something wide, words drifting: something like "Back soon, don't look away."
I waved big, ignoring the hassle. Satisfied, she turned to face Asher and opponents.
Three male students stood for her eval: Leonhardt von Leonis—who'd just fled shoulders shaking—Kaien von Luca, and Vargas von Er.
Man, Leonhardt's still messed up.
Even from afar, his bulk was rigid. Instead of aiming his sword, he trembled on the spot, face tragic like he might cry. Cheeks extra red—my back pain confession lingered.
I watched chin-propped from the bench depths. Asher pointed to sword racks, but Reina waved it off.
"Whoa, even rejecting wooden swords?"
"Insane, barehanded against those three?!"
Nearby girls' whispers hit my ears. Sharp-eyed brats, commentating the distant action.
Reina dangled her gloved hands loosely, chin up—not a warrior's stance, more a worker awaiting quitting time.
"B-begin!"
Asher's shout, long whistle. Three charged with yells, swords whistling.
Then—swish.
A bizarre crack rippled pressure even to my bench.
BOOM!!
"Guhk!"
"Ugh!"
Short screams. The aces slammed down like crushed by an invisible giant.
Silver aura erupted from Reina's feet, shimmering haze flattening dust. Couldn't see the exact move from afar, but results were brutal: three stuck in dirt pits, immobile. Big Leonhardt especially—frogged flat, not twitching.
Exactly 1 second. Whistle echo hadn't faded.
"……."
Chilling silence blanketed the grounds. Asher dropped his roster, frozen. Nearby girls gasped, hands over mouths.
Reina ignored the fallen, turned, dusted her skirt, shed her chill aura like a lie, and pat-pat-pat dashed to me.
"Cadel!"
The human weapon who'd KO'd three empire elites plopped before the bench.
"I finished super quick, right? Didn't even take off gloves. So hug me now. Yeah?"
She shoved her fresh face in, hugging my waist. Violet eyes sparkled like a kid awaiting reward.
I glanced between dirt-caked sprawl of Leonhardt's crew and the nuzzling silver beast in my lap.
Whoa…
Speechless at her ridiculous power.
"Y…yeah. Super impressive, ahem. Quick finish. Good job."
I patted her silver hair awkwardly with a grin. She beamed world-owning joy, burrowing deeper.
But whispers pierced from the stunned arena.
"……Impossible. Leonis and two others in 1 second?"
"And that duchess… cuddling the baron's lap like that?"
"Why? What did Evans do to make the empire's top sword cling like a fool?!"
Glares at me had shifted—hostile now.
…Huh? Why are they eyeing me like they wanna devour me?
I paused petting, frowning. She'd shown off power, yet arrows flew at me.
The kids' eyes mixed defiance—"unacceptable"—with weird disgust at the guy taming this lethal beast. My cozy bench shade felt distant now.