Midterm Mayhem
Zeron charged straight at Jeremiah without warning. His sword came crashing down, and Jeremiah hastily raised her own blade to meet it. Clang—! A sharp metallic ring echoed through the air. Jeremiah grimaced, her left hand already weaving a quick spell seal. Convergence, launch. A blue orb coalesced in front of her. It was Magic Missile, a First Circle spell. With a sharp whoosh, the magic shot forward from point-blank range.
Zeron simply tilted his head, dodging it with a mocking grin. "Your spell seals are too slow. The trajectory's obvious too. If you can't dodge that, you're a fucking idiot."
"You—!"
Click. A pistol was suddenly leveled at Jeremiah's forehead. It was loaded with non-lethal rounds anyway. Getting hit would just leave a red mark at worst.
"Bang," Zeron said playfully.
Boom—! The gunshot rang out.
"Kyaaak…!"
Jeremiah squeezed her eyes shut in shock, but the bullet never touched her. It bounced off the mana that had instinctively flared from her body and clattered across the ground.
"Oh?"
Was it a habit drilled into her? Whoever taught her had done a decent job. Zeron chuckled and lightly tapped Jeremiah's head with the flat of his blade. "Hey, hey. Again. You get two chances."
"I get it, so get that thing away from me!"
Jeremiah backed away with a scowl, her face flushed bright red with humiliation.
…This time I won't get scared.
With that silent vow, she leveled her sword again.
"Begin."
The moment Zeron's lips formed the word, thud—! Jeremiah kicked off the ground with explosive force. Her sword came slicing down in a clean vertical strike as she leaped.
Zeron cackled as he met it head-on. "Feeling any better about yourself yet?"
"Shut up…!"
"Come on, no matter what, I'm still your instructor."
Clang—! Clang—! The chaotic clash of metal grew faster and faster. At first she'd seemed able to keep up, but Zeron's sword speed increased by the second. Even though she'd taken the initiative, it was Jeremiah who gradually found herself forced onto the defensive. Gritting her teeth, she swung her blade wide once and leaped backward as if falling. At the same time, she drew the pistol from her waist, took aim, and fired.
Bang, bang, bang—!
Two shots to the chest, one to the head. The bullets screamed toward Zeron in the blink of an eye.
"Hmm."
Zeron exhaled as if bored and swept his sword upward.
Clang-clang-clang—! With a single motion, all three bullets were deflected. He was about to swing again to send them flying back when he suddenly froze.
"That'd probably be going too far, huh?"
He shrugged and charged at Jeremiah once more.
The midterm results were exactly as Zeron had expected, with one exception.
The arrogant Jeremiah de Lapien: Excellent. B+.
The flower-brained Depoi: Excellent. B+.
The dead-fish-eyed Colhuer: Insufficient. C.
The gloomy Ed: Outstanding. A+.
The real surprise was just how skilled that gloomy bastard actually was. He handled a sword far better than expected. His combat sense was exceptional. And unlike the current trend of dual-wielding guns and blades, he was a pure swordsman who used only a sword. They shared the same class, and his speech was surprisingly polite. When Zeron had called him "that gloomy fucker," even Medeia had looked puzzled.
Still, the guy gave off a shady vibe no matter how you looked at it. If Zeron had been in his prime, he probably would've slit the kid's throat the moment they met. Ah, those were the days…
Zeron's lips curled into a crooked smile as he reminisced about the past.
"Alright, last one. Come on, kiddo. Hurry up."
Despite his thoughts, Zeron flicked his sword in a lazy gesture, beckoning the little brat forward. She walked out with a surprisingly determined expression.
"Honestly, who'd be stupid enough to fuck up a spar when I'm going this easy on them? Huh? I even brought out the gun I barely use anymore."
"Shut up. It's not like you taught me anything that impressive anyway. You barely even used the gun in the first place."
"Hey now… that's cold. Even if the gun's whatever, I've told you a million times how important fundamentals are."
The little brat snorted and took her stance. It was an unusual posture—her left hand, holding the pistol, supported by her right hand gripping the sword. Most people treated the gun as a secondary weapon, but this stance clearly intended to use the sword as support instead. And for her, that was exactly the right choice.
Because…
"…Then, begin!"
Boomboomboomboom—!
The little brat was a genius with a gun.
The instant Zeron gave the signal, he couldn't help but admire the barrage that followed. Two to the chest, one to each leg, two to the head. They had all been fired nearly simultaneously. And the bullets were spread out in tricky angles that would be difficult to sweep away with a single sword stroke.
Clang—! Zeron quickly twisted his body to the left and deflected the two bullets he couldn't dodge. He immediately leaped forward. But the little brat's eyes never left him. Calmly tracking his movement, she fired again.
Boom—! Bang—! Boom—!
This time she'd added slight delays between shots. Zeron twisted to avoid two, deflected one with the flat of his blade, then dropped low to the ground to dodge the last two. Even then, the little brat remained composed.
Her magazine held twelve rounds. Click, slide—clack! The magazine was swapped out in an instant. Thirteen shots total, including the one already chambered.
Boomboomboomboomboom—!
Her pistol spat fire. Zeron dodged what he could at a level appropriate for a student and deflected the rest with his sword. The bullets weren't infused with mana. The little brat wasn't at the level where she could imbue mana while firing this rapidly, but at a student's level, this much was more than enough stopping power. Even if they couldn't pierce mana resistance, the sheer force behind them would make anyone flinch.
So why did he bother blocking with his sword? Because getting hit would feel like shit, obviously.
Zeron's lips curled as he swung his blade. He pressed in close while the little brat desperately fired to keep him at bay. After a brief standoff, click— the hammer fell on empty air, signaling the end of the exchange.
Thud—! Zeron's foot slammed into the ground. The little brat quickly retreated as his form closed in, rapidly swapping magazines. But she was too slow. Zeron was already right in front of her. Gritting her teeth, she swung her sword with her right hand.
Clang—! Her clean horizontal slash was blocked. Zeron smirked at the unexpectedly heavy blow compared to her size. As expected of my pupil. But he showed no mercy. He flicked the hilt of his sword to deflect her next strike, then twisted his wrist.
"Eek!?"
Thwack—! The flat of his blade slammed into the little brat's head with a clear, resonant ring. Zeron burst out laughing at the satisfying sound.
"I keep telling you to work on your close-quarters combat."
"Shut up…"
The little brat pouted and rubbed her reddened forehead. Zeron habitually reached into his coat, then paused and awkwardly shook his sword a few times instead.
"Shall we start the real thing now?"
"Just a second."
The little brat quickly checked her equipment and nodded. "I'm ready."
"Good."
Boom—! With a sudden gunshot, the second round of the test began.
The flow of battle was similar to before. Zeron trying to break through, the little brat desperately holding him back. The class was technically called Practical Swordsmanship, but… whatever. This test was mostly meant to prepare them for the upcoming sparring matches anyway.
Click, slide—clack! While the little brat reloaded, Zeron advanced two steps.
Boomboomboom—! Another barrage. The exact same pattern made Zeron frown.
She's not stupid. She wouldn't repeat the same mistake.
Eleven shots. Twelve. He counted the remaining rounds while dodging and deflecting. One bullet left. The little brat took careful aim—then suddenly hurled the sword in her right hand straight at him.
"Huh?"
Clang—! Zeron knocked it aside, sending her blade flying into the air with a metallic ring. The little brat's lips curved into a smirk. Her aim was locked on his pelvis. His sword, raised to deflect the thrown blade, would take time to come back down. Under normal bullet speed, he could have blocked it easily—but this shot was heavily infused with mana. Increased power. Increased velocity. Her finger pulled the trigger.
Boom—!
At the same moment, Zeron's head snapped to the side.
Killing intent?
His gaze shot toward empty air. Then, like shattering glass, the space itself cracked apart. Zeron's expression hardened as he lowered his sword.
Ting—! The pommel of his hilt flicked the bullet away.
The little brat, unaware of what had just happened, looked disappointed. She'd assumed he would block with the blade, which would've been too late. But Zeron remained frozen in place.
Medeia looked confused but quickly reloaded and took aim at him again.
"Hey, hey. Hold on."
"What? What's wrong?"
Medeia pouted and lowered her gun. Zeron's usually relaxed eyes had sharpened into a savage glare.
"Why are you suddenly so—… huh…?"
Medeia noticed it too. The Rift floating in midair. She glanced at Zeron in alarm. His dull blue eyes, partially hidden behind his shaggy hair, glowed with a chilling light. She swallowed hard.
The regressor remained perfectly still. His eyes scanned the Rift hovering in the air.
Same as always.
Feeling a wave of disgust, he glanced sideways at Zeron. The man was raising his guard, taking a combat stance as if facing the situation for the first time. Despite how careless he usually seemed, he never truly let his guard down. In the back alleys he'd survived, even a moment's carelessness meant death.
Should I deal with it? Or let him handle it?
The decision was quick. Considering what came next, it was an easy choice.
Go ahead and rampage all you want again, Sword Demon. In this life, things will never go your way.
The regressor's eyes flashed blood-red.