A Knife is the Cure for a Mad Dog (2)

After the short yet seemingly endless academy entrance ceremony concluded, Ethan, who had stood on the podium as the vice-president of the swordsmanship department, quickly scanned the interior of the grand hall.

He was searching for his personal maid, Lilith, among the chaotic crowd of nearly 400 academy freshmen gathered in the grand hall.

She had definitely been seated with him in the front row of the grand hall initially.

Since he hadn’t seen her move during the ceremony, it would make sense for her to still be there if she was waiting inside the hall.

However, the spot where she had been sitting before he went up to the podium was now crowded with freshmen trying to exit after the ceremony ended.

‘Did she go outside first?’

Given how chaotic the situation was, she might have thought it would be easier to wait outside rather than remain inside the hall.

Still, with Lilith’s striking appearance-her beautiful face, distinctive figure, and the peculiar outfit that was half-maid uniform and half-academy attire-she wouldn’t be hard to spot outside either.

‘She’s not causing trouble again, is she?’

Though Lilith was usually wise in her decisions, she had a tendency to act emotionally at times.

At the very least, if she were to cause trouble, Ethan hoped it would happen within his sight so he could handle the situation.

Lately, she had been behaving well without any incidents. Most of the “trouble” she had caused in the past had been situations where she had no choice but to intervene.

Even so, it was unlikely that Lilith would cause a scene on the first day of the academy without reason.

“……”

For some reason, a sense of unease crept over Ethan, prompting him to hurry outside the grand hall.

Years of living with Lilith had honed his intuition-something inexplicable was telling him he needed to find her quickly.

Just as Ethan, after a brief conversation with Princess Seraphine, was about to follow the other students out of the grand hall, someone suddenly grabbed his shoulder, halting him mid-step.

“Can we talk for a moment?”

“……”

Ethan paused at the voice of the white-haired young man who had abruptly called out to him.

Though they had never spoken before, Ethan already knew who he was.

During the entrance ceremony, this young man had stood beside him as the top student of the swordsmanship department.

His name was… Gyeotmwa Josyegigot Volt, if he recalled correctly.

And flanking him were two women who appeared to be the top students of the theology and archery departments.

Though the approach had been rude, Ethan dismissed it, assuming it was just how commoners behaved.

“What do you want?”

“Ah, well…”

Gyeotmwa Josyegigot Volt hesitated, rolling his eyes as he searched for words.

It couldn’t be helped-he had impulsively stopped Ethan in his rush to leave.

Realizing any topic would sound awkward, he decided to cut straight to the point.

“I was just wondering if you had something to say to me.”

“…Something to say?”

“You know, like… something we have in common? Some kind of secret you can’t tell others.”

“…I have no idea what you’re talking about. Even if I had secrets I couldn’t share with others, why would I discuss them with a stranger like you? Especially in front of your… companions.”

“Wh-what?! M-me, the Hero’s woman…?!”

“…Wait, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not ‘his woman’ or anything. We’re just working together out of mutual interest…”

“Hold on, Silena. Don’t complicate things. I’m trying to have an important conversation here.”

“…Hmph.”

Despite approaching with an air of seriousness, Gyeotmwa’s ensuing squabble with his companions drained Ethan’s interest.

His urgent footsteps regained their momentum.

“It seems there’s nothing between us to discuss. My companion is waiting, so I’ll take my leave.”

“W-wait, Ethan!”

“…Since when are we on a first-name basis? Mind your manners.”

“P-please wait! Gyeotmwa Josyegigot Volt-nim is the Hero chosen by the Goddess’s revelation!”

“Does the Aurelia Church teach that Heroes are exempt from courtesy? I doubt even a Saintess would preach such arrogance.”

“Th-that’s…”

Gyeotmwa and Celista fell silent under Ethan’s logical rebuttal.

In the awkward pause, the Hero quietly pondered.

‘…As I thought. He’s definitely experienced at least one regression or possession.’

The Ethan he knew from the game was neither this refined nor capable of silencing opponents with rational arguments.

Something had clearly changed him.

If Ethan had regressed from the future after realizing his mistakes, his wary attitude made sense.

If, like himself, Ethan was a transmigrator who knew the game’s story, it was natural he’d be cautious.

Realizing his bold approach had offended Ethan, Gyeotmwa offered an apology.

“Sorry, Blackwood. I realize now that approaching you so abruptly must have been unpleasant.”

“……”

“But I genuinely wanted to talk. I didn’t mean anything strange by it-it’s something that could benefit you too.”

“…I’m already quite displeased.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to get to know you better. As the top two swordsmanship students, we’d have plenty to discuss, right?”

“……”

Ethan’s guard lowered slightly at the change in tone.

Just as Gyeotmwa was about to press further, their conversation was abruptly cut short by a commotion outside the hall.

-CRASH! CLANG! BANG!!

“…What was that?”

“Wh-what could it be…? Maybe someone’s sparring outside…?”

The elf archer and the Saintess were the first to notice the disturbance, drawing Ethan and the Hero’s attention outward.

The words that followed were enough to make the Blackwood heir react immediately.

“Whoa! The maid! The maid’s winning!!”

“No way, how is she losing to a dagger while wielding that huge sword?”

“……!!!”

At the mention of a maid fighting with a dagger, Ethan abandoned the conversation and bolted outside.

Only one person came to mind.

‘Lilith…!’

So much for her recent good behavior.

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

My duel with Reidenhardt ended far more anticlimactically than I expected.

I had suspected as much from our first exchange.

His swordsmanship was laughably poor, his strikes devoid of weight.

His movements were simplistic, driven only by the thought of cutting down his opponent.

Having watched Ethan and Harold spar twice a week, the academy freshman’s strikes seemed pathetically predictable-my body reacted before my eyes could even track them.

Blocking his sword with just a single silver dagger wasn’t difficult either.

No special technique was needed to counter such brute-force swings.

-CLANG!

“Guh…!”

All I had to do was time a ‘Shockwave’ at the moment of impact to deflect his greatsword with my dagger.

Within minutes, the advantage was entirely mine.

Daggers were generally at a disadvantage against greatswords-shorter reach meant exposing more of my body, and lighter weight meant weaker strikes.

But in this fight, those disadvantages were meaningless.

His simplistic swings were easy to evade, and the lack of power was compensated by the Shockwave upon impact.

With those weaknesses mitigated, the dagger’s true strength could shine.

Its speed-far surpassing that of a greatsword-was its greatest asset.

-CLANG! CLASH! BANG!!

“Guh, ngh…! Aaaah!!”

Reidenhardt desperately tried to land a hit, but his blade couldn’t even graze my uniform, let alone my body.

As gaps in his defense widened, a single decisive strike settled the duel.

-STAB!

“AAAAAH!!”

My dagger pierced his left wrist, and Reidenhardt screamed as his greatsword clattered to the ground.

The duel ended with the sound of steel hitting stone.

-CLANG…

“Aah, aaaaah…!”

…This isn’t as satisfying as I thought it’d be.

Even though he started it, fighting person-to-person still left a bad taste.

Even in a world where severed limbs could be reattached at a church, it didn’t feel right.

“Do you understand the difference in our skill now?”

“Y-you damn bitch…!!”

Clutching his wounded wrist, Reidenhardt glared at me with murderous intent.

You’d think he’d have learned his lesson by now, but his pride seemed thoroughly shattered.

“AAAH! You bitch! Damn you…!!”

“Admit defeat. If you care even a shred for your remaining dignity.”

“I’ll… I’ll kill you! You lowborn wench! In the name of House Reidenhardt, I’ll slaughter your entire family and make you a limbless, tongueless sex slave for my soldiers…!”

“……What did you just say.”

“……Huh?”

A familiar figure appeared before the cursing noble.

Ethan, his Blackwood-crested cloak fluttering, drew the sword at his left hip before I could explain.

His blade flashed through the air faster than the eye could follow.

-SLICE!

Blood sprayed.

A scream of agony echoed.

Reidenhardt’s wrists, still connected, flew into the air.

“AAAH! AAAAAAH!!”

“Say it again. And this blade will emerge from the back of your skull.”

Ethan pressed his second sword against the fallen noble’s throat.

His eyes were colder than I had ever seen them.