Chapter 132
Chapter 132
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: The Head Assistant Instructor
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He seemed taken aback by my casual response, falling silent for a moment.
Finally, he gritted his teeth and gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
“I can’t stand this. I’ll tear you to shreds.”
I spread my hands at his extreme reaction, but he didn't respond.
He just charged forward with a terrifying aura.
“Seriously, is this something to get so angry about?”
As I muttered this, Alkheim, who had been quiet, chimed in.
—Even I think you went a bit too far.
To be scolded like this by the likes of the Dark Spirit King.
It seemed my self-praise had been a little excessive.
In any case, I couldn't avoid fighting him now.
Although I had cut the enemy knight order in two, the blockade wouldn't last long.
Using that stone wall for defense indefinitely was impossible.
It would likely crumble as soon as Mac's spiritual energy was depleted.
‘If I take care of these guys, they’ll have a hard time finding our position for a while.’
That would disrupt the second prince's army's strategy as well.
Step. Crunch.
Soon, the survivors began to appear behind the knight commander.
I immediately looked around.
But my allies had already fled far away.
“Come on, you didn't all have to be so cold and leave?”
Honestly, I thought at least a few of them, captivated by my heroic deeds, would have stayed behind.
Was it because I was too overwhelmingly powerful?
From now on, I should probably try coasting a bit more often.
Like back in Venderford.
“Look at you, acting so high and mighty. Serves you right.”
The knight commander approached step by step, a cruel smile on his face.
He was mocking me, thinking I was flustered to be left alone.
In truth, I was just a little disappointed.
Besides, he seemed to think he could handle me all by himself.
Otherwise, there's no way he'd be walking up to me alone so openly.
“You’re pretty arrogant, old man.”
“This is called confidence, kid.”
“Nope. Wrong.”
“Hah! Don’t deny reality.”
“Doesn't that only apply when there's at least some chance of winning?”
“What?”
Step.
The confidently approaching knight commander stopped in his tracks.
No, it was more accurate to say he couldn’t get any closer.
Because the formless aura I was emitting was pressing down on his entire body.
He must have been feeling an immense, indescribable pressure.
But it would take him quite some time to accept that fact.
‘He sees me as just a mere student.’
What happens when you let your guard down in a real battle?
You just die, that's what.
The moment my opponent hesitated, I was already moving.
Fwoosh!
A sword strike that closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
The tip of my sword, shrouded in a grayish-white aura, pierced through space at a tremendous speed.
“Hup!”
The knight commander sucked in a sharp breath and leaned his torso back.
He had no time to raise his sword, so he tried to dodge with his body alone.
But what I had unleashed was the Heaven-Filling Demonic Moon.
An ultimate heavy sword technique that possessed both power and speed.
It wasn't a move that could be dodged with mere reflexes.
Swish—! Chiiing!
After a faint sound of tearing air, a sound like clashing metal followed.
It came from the knight commander's armor, which had been cleanly sliced.
With a look of horror, he glanced back at his left shoulder.
His movement was slow, as if time had momentarily stopped.
Drip. Pssshhh—!
“Kuaargh!”
And as blood gushed out in time with his heartbeat, he finally staggered violently.
He clutched his left shoulder, letting out a groan.
His face still filled with shock.
“I... I didn't feel any impact…”
That was only natural.
How could a knight who had trained only in swordsmanship his entire life have any experience with killing arts?
Especially not a supreme technique combined with the Riverune swordsmanship.
He probably never imagined something like this could happen while he was wearing plate armor.
That's why he was so utterly astonished.
“See? I told you it was arrogance.”
I rested the Black Dragon Sword on my shoulder and tilted my chin.
The knight commander poured a potion on his wound and shot back to his feet.
“It’s not over yet.”
“How about you stop being reckless and just leave? I don't particularly want to kill you.”
War was a cruel business.
But this was a civil war for the crown prince's throne.
Besides, my opponent spoke as if he'd seen me in Venderford.
‘Which means there’s a high chance he’s affiliated with the academy.’
He couldn't be a professor or a student, so I figured he was probably an assistant instructor or something.
What's the point of killing someone I might know, someone I have no particular grudge against?
This isn't even my war to begin with.
“Mercy... A word that doesn't belong on the battlefield.”
My opponent gave a self-deprecating laugh and lowered his head.
But the atmosphere suggested he had no intention of giving up and leaving.
And I, too, had no intention of letting him go.
So why did I say that just now?
“Let’s just call it an image makeover. Something like that.”
I admit I've been making too many rogue-like remarks.
But now is the time to be reborn as a war hero.
I had to possess the dignity and grace befitting one.
Of course, this wasn't because Ellington had become too mature.
—Just act like your usual self. You seriously look like a complete lunatic.
I know how to read the room, you know.
Just as Alkheim had muttered, my opponent was staring at me with a look of utter disbelief.
Even though I couldn't see his face clearly because of his helmet, I could guess his expression.
“Ahem!”
I let out a loud, fake cough to hide my blushing face.
Then, I pointed my Black Dragon Sword at the knights who had gathered around my opponent.
“This is a fight you brought upon yourselves. So don’t blame me.”
At that, the knights glanced at each other and started muttering among themselves.
“What the hell is he rambling on about all by himself?”
“I think he picked the wrong character concept.”
“He seems crazy, let’s not engage him and just go. Help the commander up, quickly.”
What, those lackeys of Frantz?
I, too, had a knack for getting on people's nerves.
But it seemed these enemy knights had received special training from Frantz himself.
To think they could provoke me, a man of unshakable composure, so strongly.
“Hmph! I have no choice. I, the great and fair, must endure. I will take you all on. Feel free to come at me all at once!”
No matter how much they slander and personally attack me, my spirit will never break.
For I am to become the savior of the third prince's army, a sacred presence on the battlefield.
—Tsk tsk! You're obsessed with playing the hero.
“What did you say, you punk?”
But with that one comment from Alkheim, my cool pose completely fell apart.
At the same time, as if to vent my frustration, I swung my sword forward.
A large sphere shot out at incredible speed.
The gray mass flew right up to the knights before exploding with a low hum.
Thwoom—! Fw-fw-fw-fw-fw!
Crystals of aura scattered in all directions.
Swept up in a storm like a blizzard, the knights fell one after another without even a scream.
An immense number of aura fragments had pierced their bodies all over.
‘It's nice being able to use my secret techniques freely.’
I was, after all, the man who had reached the pinnacle in Venderford.
Now that I was known as Jerome Klevitz's disciple, it wouldn't be strange for me to use sword arts other than the Imperial Sound Lock Sword.
Besides, the Heaven-Severing Demonic Chain Sword was a style whose traces were not easily identified.
Making up an excuse would be a simple matter.
“Anyway, was there too much of a gap between my words and actions?”
I gave a dry laugh as I looked at the second prince's knights, who had been annihilated by a single sword strike.
If I hadn't been pissed off by that punk Alkheim's provocation, I could have maintained my heroic dignity.
Tap.
I tapped Calipe lightly to show my displeasure.
—Hey! Don't touch my head!
“That was your head? Wait, do you even have one?”
—You believe that? Pathetic.
“Wow, if I had the power, I'd totally mess you up.”
—Then draw Calipe. Let’s have a go right now.
“...Not now, later.”
—Scared?
“Shut up, Mr. Dark whatever-your-name-is.”
Ignoring Alkheim's voice cluttering my mind, I approached the pile of corpses.
I wanted to confirm the identity of the knight commander, which I'd been curious about.
I found the body with one arm missing and removed its helmet.
But an unexpected face was revealed.
“This person is... the head assistant instructor?”
***
The next day, at the second prince's army headquarters.
Immediately after receiving his aide's report, Frantz frowned and rose from his seat.
“Sir Godard was killed in action?”
“Yes, that is correct. They pursued the enemy to the Alente region, but it seems they were isolated by a supernatural phenomenon.”
“Supernatural... what?”
“The consensus is that it was likely magic.”
The aide cautiously presented a drawing made by a scout.
Though it was a bit crude, one could easily see that a massive stone wall had split the knight order in two.
“Unbelievable. To lose a battle we had all but won so pointlessly!”
Frantz glared at the strategy map, his simmering anger showing.
How hard had he worked to lead the civil war in their favor up to this point.
He had secured the support of the Gray Tower and the surrounding lords, and even succeeded in forming an alliance with the Reilhash Kingdom.
All by exercising his unique diplomatic skills.
To have created such a perfect situation, only to gain nothing from it.
No, frankly, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call this a defeat.
“I-I apologize.”
The aide apologized in the tense atmosphere.
Even though he himself hadn't participated in the battle.
He had bowed his head on impulse, feeling as if he had to.
Frantz gave a light wave of his hand.
“This is not something for you to apologize for, Aide Caleb. This is the responsibility of the commander who led the battle.”
“...”
“By the way, who was it that defeated Sir Godard?”
“Well...”
At Frantz's question, the aide trailed off, glancing around nervously.
His eyes seemed to ask if it was okay to report the truth.
The second prince's expression became peculiar.
“Don't hesitate. Report the truth.”
“Ah, yes, sir. The one who cut down Sir Godard is reportedly a person named Ray Carter.”
“...The student council president?”
Frantz's eyes widened for a moment, and he trembled, his fists clenched tightly.
To think that man had sided with Ellington... frankly, it was incredibly annoying.
Ray Carter was, after all, recognized as the strongest in Venderford.
Among their peers, who formed the core of this civil war, there was likely no one who could defeat the student council president.
It seemed a special measure would be necessary.
“It seems it is finally my time to step forward.”
Just then, a man who had been sitting quietly in a corner rose to his feet.
He was a striking figure, with wavy, graying hair and a large scar etched across his face.
Frantz nodded, a satisfied expression on his face.
“I'll be counting on you. As revenge for Sir Godard... crush that bastard.”