Ch.217. The Sword of the Fool (3)

Honestly.

The Demon King had expected the boy to be mentally cornered or experience dozens of frustrations in that hell that wasn’t quite hell.

He assumed that while the boy would eventually stand up again, the process wouldn’t be easy.

But what’s this?

‘He doesn’t falter even once.’

Though he didn’t express it outwardly, he must have felt countless frustrations inside.

He must have shuddered every moment, gripped by overwhelming loneliness and self-doubt.

The Demon King had planned to let him struggle a bit before sending him back to reality if things looked too difficult.

Even if the boy voluntarily expressed his hardships and complaints, that would be one thing.

But without ever blaming others or declaring surrender.

The boy remained utterly focused.

‘He resembles the Hero in this aspect.’

If there was any resemblance, it was particularly in those amber eyes, like pure gold.

Judging by appearance alone, Ermina’s features seemed more prominent.

The silky black hair, and overall delicate features that made him pretty.

But his temperament? His spirit?

More precisely, his tenacity? Willpower?

In some ways, the most essential aptitude and nature of heroes.

Kariel had that similarity to Rueld.

…Though now worn down, his inherently innocent nature and inability to easily blame or curse others.

The tendency to internalize and accumulate feelings until falling into self-loathing and depression.

From any perspective, it would be correct to say he resembled Ermina in that regard.

‘However.’

It’s still too early.

Too soon to make definitive judgments based on just this.

The Demon King still had much to learn about Kariel.

Some might say he’d figured out at least 90%, that he knew almost everything.

But many questions remained unanswered.

‘Is this the final point of interest? Since it’s also entertainment, I’d like to unravel it slowly.’

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Logically.

When a teacher and student are at the same level or the difference is marginal,

the concept of proper teaching becomes difficult to establish.

Moreover, the Imperial Academy at the empire’s center is among the continent’s most prestigious institutions.

The position of instructor there means being counted among the continent’s finest educators and experts.

However.

They are still human.

Each has their circumstances—being swayed by power, concerned with reputation and performance,

trapped by approval-seeking, or pursuing even greater ambitions.

While some dedicate themselves to their profession as educators with responsibility and pride,

others are reluctantly pushed into the position or have it thrust upon them.

Or some view the process merely as a stepping stone to reach higher positions.

Lembert, approaching thirty this year, was often criticized for being mediocre and inadequate in every aspect.

If anything was recognized about him, it was his swordsmanship? His excellent physical condition?

It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried.

But the walls of talent and effort were even thicker.

When he struggled for eight hours, those “gifted ones” devoted several more hours than him.

They honed their skills, sparing no time for rest, let alone leisure.

‘Why live like that?’

What do they gain from such hardship?

The Demon King is dead, isn’t he? So why train so diligently?

He doesn’t regret his choices.

But as one year became several, and five years became ten.

Their positions had completely diverged.

Perhaps.

Was it because he had no chance to prove himself, to achieve merit?

If only he were given an opportunity.

If only he could be chosen by a holy sword or sacred relic.

Sometimes blaming his family, sometimes regretting not having worked harder in the past.

But realizing that reality wouldn’t change no matter what, and it would only be difficult.

And so, he became just like the adults around him.

So.

Born as the Hero’s child, rumored to have been so impressive as a child.

Yet turning out to be so incompetent.

And not even making an effort.

If that’s the case, why not just wield a pen instead of a sword?

…Does he think it’s easy?

What exactly did he learn from Lord Rueld?

If I had a father like Rueld…

…I too could have become a hero.

“Stop! STOP—!”

Lembert was forcibly pulled from his thoughts.

A student was crying out in distress, face planted on the floor.

The student had decent skills for his age.

Solid fundamentals and good innate qualities.

Almost like seeing himself from back then.

But since becoming a swordsmanship instructor, Lembert had seen countless individuals with talent similar to his own.

What he had considered special or somewhat unique about himself had ultimately only placed him at the edge of extraordinariness.

Setting foot in the Imperial Academy meant this much was acknowledged.

So.

…to be helplessly flattened on the ground like that was unacceptable.

Though it was just a practice match, such a disparity was problematic.

Especially when the one who had reduced the student to this state was.

The hero’s disgrace.

The dragon’s lizard tail.

The one called the Incompetent’s Incompetent.

…Kariel Brendiar.

This was simply… impossible, something that should never happen.

Everyone watching was visibly perplexed, unsure how to process the current situation.

“Next.”

With the wooden sword resting on his shoulder and an expressionless face, he pronounced.

“……”

With dry eyes, he calmly surveyed those who had scorned and mocked him.

Lembert felt cold sweat forming.

Why be nervous?

He’s just a student after all.

There’s nothing remarkable or special about him.

His mana control is still a mess, and the energy and momentum he emits are as feeble as a candle flame that could be extinguished by a gentle breeze.

Even his physical movements are more pitiful than those of a wooden scarecrow.

Then why.

…did he win?

Upon reflection, Kariel hadn’t subdued his opponent with swordsmanship.

He had struck the opponent’s chin with the back of his hand as soon as he dodged an attack.

Then, after calmly deflecting the struggling opponent’s attack,

He tripped him to break his balance, grabbed his left arm, and twisted it behind his back.

“……”

And what did he do with the wooden sword he was holding?

Nothing.

He just held it.

Without blocking the opponent’s attacks, without swinging it lightly or thrusting it threateningly,

He just held it.

‘Was that rumor… true?’

The unbelievable news that even Patina, the youngest female member of the Golden Dragon Knights, had been defeated by him.

If she had let him win because they were close siblings who had a special relationship since childhood, that would be understandable.

But was that something worth spreading rumors about?

In other words, if his expectations were so poor that even such a minor victory became rumor-worthy… that might make sense.

But wouldn’t that just be another insult to Kariel?

“Getting cocky over one lucky win. Fine! I’ll face you myself!”

Another student stepped forward with a confident expression, as if making a big decision.

A student ranked at least twenty places higher in swordsmanship than the previous one.

The young heir to a viscount family seemed not to have even considered the possibility of defeat, so confident was he.

…But.

“??”

Kariel struck with his sword held in reverse grip.

The end of the wooden hilt.

The wooden pommel drove straight into the opponent’s Adam’s apple, causing him to clutch his throat and collapse ungracefully with a choked sound.

“……”

Kariel’s gaze as he looked down showed not a hint of wavering.

No, even that’s not quite right.

‘Is he being cautious?’

No, it’s not caution.

That’s…

The gaze of a predator contemplating whether to end its prey’s life.

The fact that the prey is still alive.

Means the situation hasn’t concluded yet.

“Next.”

His foot twitched slightly, but it didn’t lead to any further movement.

‘Just now…’

He could have easily kicked the head or stomped on the neck or face.

But he didn’t go that far.

…In other words.

With reason rather than emotion, he was thoroughly controlling and regulating himself.

All the results so far clearly proved this.

“……”

By now, Kariel’s gaze was fixed on Lembert.

Those eyes that seemed to have lost their light.

Those turbid, sunken eyes.

They seemed to be probing into his innermost thoughts.

Lembert felt a chill.

“Shall we continue?”

What?

“Next.”

He had only defeated two opponents.

Why was no one volunteering to be next?

Wasn’t Kariel the one they had looked down on so much?

The one they had belittled so thoroughly?

Even now, he looked unsteady just standing.

So why… had those who had stepped forward so confidently been subdued like children?

“W-why use bare hands in a sword duel…”

Even the student who tried to point this out loudly.

Surely knew how cheap and sordid such an excuse was.

Perhaps because no one joined in agreement.

His words naturally trailed off.

“Then come forward and prove it.”

More precisely.

When Kariel fixed his gaze on him, he was crushed.

“If you want, I’ll use a sword too. But… be prepared to get hurt. Because I’m still short on experience and skill, I haven’t yet mastered how to control my strength.”

Without displaying any hostility.

A calm warning, like pronouncing factual content.

That calm attitude, that quiet stillness, was making the situation even more unsettling.

If.

If I had power.

If I had been ignored, ostracized, ridiculed, and constantly bullied unfairly because I lacked power.

If I had been innocently bullied.

Could I really.

…Be so calm like him.

Neither cold nor hot, without even lukewarmness.

Show an attitude close to indifference.

Even if arrows of resentment were aimed at him.

Those with no room for excuses were numerous here.

And that point.

Was evoking ominous sentiments in everyone’s hearts.

“……”

Which target would the arrow of revenge aim for?

When would the bowstring be released?

When would the arrow be shot?

Above all.

…What was he thinking?

What was his purpose?

The more they observed and watched him.

The more impossible it became to understand his inner thoughts and intentions.

The seed of anxiety planted in everyone’s minds finally sprouts.

As fear.

As the unknown.

Like invisible fangs about to settle on the nape of the neck.

The eerie sensation of hard teeth, sharp edges brushing against skin and fine hairs.

All of it felt so real, so palpable.

“Huk!”

A female student gasped.

When Kariel’s gaze turned toward her, she involuntarily sat down.

“What will you do?”

Kariel asks Lembert directly.

As a teacher, instructional sparring with students is acceptable.

But that’s the limit.

Going beyond that is not allowed.

To be evenly matched with a student who should be taught?

There’s no greater dishonor.

Even if not evenly matched, to allow a few moves while dominating?

This too is dishonorable.

So.

If the situation wasn’t one where he could claim overwhelming superiority.

There was absolutely nothing to gain from confrontation.

“……”

No, that’s not it.

Had he ever worried about this until just recently?

Against that Kariel?

Against that disgrace?

Against the Incompetent’s Incompetent?

“I can’t go around slitting throats and stabbing hearts one by one.”

Suddenly.

With the same stoic expression, Kariel blurted out a brutal statement.

“It’s time you realized.”

This is.

“This is a development that can no longer be avoided.”

As long as you are a swordsman and a knight.

“This is my final warning. Choose.”

Will you stake your life?

Or.

“Will you keep this at the level of a simple duel?”

“K-Kariel. You can’t speak to your teacher like—”

“Don’t play word games. Isn’t this what you always babbled to me? Your talking ends there. If you talk more.”

I’ll kill you.

……

He didn’t make a sound.

He only moved his lips, but to Lembert who was watching, the content was conveyed very clearly.

“Y-you insolent…”

“……”

Why.

Someone who threatens to kill people.

Still shows no emotion?

You could show even the slightest reaction, couldn’t you?

Yet, his words carried weight.

That was what made no sense at all.

Regardless.

As if giving him ample time to prepare, Kariel calmly walked forward and pointed his wooden sword.

“Then I’ll ask for a move.”

Kariel felt a hint of compassion.

Because I was naive and foolish.

Because I was weak and incompetent.

Because I too easily allowed your claws and fangs.

This unfortunate incident was triggered.

This too might be my fault if anything.

So.

‘Though I didn’t start it, if it was ultimately triggered and began because of me.’

Breaking that rotten chain.

Is entirely my duty and responsibility.