Ch.28From a Distance, It Seems Like a Comedy, but up Close, It’s a Tragedy.

As expected, the frivolous-looking man approached Asha with a smirk and requested a duel.

Was he trying to make crude advances toward Asha, a dwarf?

Or did he think her small stature, barely half his size, would make for an easy victory? His intentions were difficult to discern.

If the former, he was a pervert; if the latter, simply a fool.

Either way, the outcome was obvious, so I needn’t concern myself.

Asha had an incredibly high critical hit rate against humanoid opponents, so he’d probably get seriously injured.

Though I wasn’t sure how that would manifest in reality.

“What should I do, Haschal?”

Asha turned to me with a troubled expression.

Fair enough—the skill gap would be obvious to her too, so she probably had no desire to entertain his unpleasant intentions.

“Why not humor him once? It might actually make things easier later on.”

“You think so?”

When Asha nodded agreeably, the man brightened up and walked away.

In the end, he never once looked in my direction.

It wasn’t hatred or contempt—he simply seemed too uncomfortable to even speak to me, so I didn’t press the issue.

“Who are you planning to duel with, Haschal?”

“Well, I’ll have to look around. I’m not sure if anyone would want to duel with me.”

“There’s Knut, isn’t there?”

“That wouldn’t end as just a duel. Absolutely not.”

I could tell just by looking at his eyes.

The caution with which he stared persistently at me without ever approaching first.

Those were the eyes of a predator, calmly observing its prey, waiting for a moment of vulnerability.

So he wouldn’t request a duel first.

He probably wasn’t yet confident he could tear out my throat.

My nerves were constantly on edge in response to his swamp-like hostility.

If I provoked him, he’d probably lose control and lunge at me.

However, I had no intention of requesting a duel with him either.

We might be keeping our distance now, but once we crossed weapons and unleashed our fighting spirit, neither Knut nor I would be able to suppress our murderous intent.

Regardless of who won, one of us would die and the other would be gravely injured.

I’d probably win, but that would only serve to cement my notorious reputation.

Ah, Professor Carlain might intervene before that happened.

That is, if I retained enough sanity to heed the professor’s words.

Better not risk it. At worst, I might end up swinging my blade at the professor too.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s a shame, but I’m sure we’ll get to see it someday.”

Asha nodded and began checking her equipment.

…I’d rather that opportunity never arose.

—-

So, what should I do?

I took out a cigarette and twisted it between my fingers while scanning the regular students.

Where might I find a suitable opponent?

Someone neither too weak to be useful nor too strong that I’d have to reveal my full capabilities.

If I could decisively defeat such an opponent, few would dare challenge me afterward.

This wasn’t a situation where I could improve my standing through goodwill or trust.

While most special admission students might not harbor ill feelings toward me, the Imperial citizens would view me with prejudice regardless of what I said or did.

First, I needed to demonstrate strength.

Fear was necessary. Enough fear that even those who despised me would reluctantly follow my commands when given forcefully.

If I could at least get these people to listen to me, there might be fewer victims in the upcoming first episode.

Students who made eye contact with me unanimously averted their gaze.

None of them had any backbone. Was I really that intimidating when it came to actual fighting…?

Perhaps I’d already fulfilled the fear requirement.

Still, I needed to prove my strength.

There’s a big difference between hearing rumors and witnessing something firsthand.

I needed to approach them first to find a dueling partner, so I stood up and walked toward them.

The crowd before me parted like the Red Sea.

It was an absurdly comical sight.

At this rate, they might as well start calling me Moses.

Only a few seemingly capable individuals remained in place, watching me.

Mostly the main characters.

First, Edgar, who was openly glaring at me with furrowed brows.

Rejected. Carelessly antagonizing a Church figure in the Empire could land me on a pyre rather than establishing my position.

There’s also a second-year special student who’s a saint candidate, and I’d rather not get on her bad side either.

Since I’m not specifically a heretic as a Ka’har, he probably wouldn’t pick a fight with me first.

Besides, since potions don’t work on my body, I should actually try to befriend the Church for my long-term health.

I might even need to consider conversion if necessary.

Though I have no idea what Ka’har religious views are like.

Since magic resistance is considered a divine blessing, perhaps they’d welcome my conversion as a magic-resistant person?

Next was Ophelia, who had a long mana herb between her fingertips, pretending disinterest while secretly glancing my way.

She wouldn’t be a bad choice… but her personality is quite prickly, so I’ll just keep her in consideration for now.

Then there’s Demian.

…He seems like someone who’s hiding his true abilities and wouldn’t be easy to defeat.

Still, I definitely needed to befriend him anyway, so I should use this opportunity to break the ice.

Even if his appearance irks me.

I turned my head to look at Demian.

Millia, who was clinging to his side, shrank back warily.

Demian turned toward me and smiled with an inscrutable expression.

It was the kind of refreshing, bright smile befitting a protagonist, but something about it…

It was hard to pinpoint exactly, but there was an uncanny, alienating quality to his smile that set him apart from others.

Like looking at a doll without emotions.

No, that’s not quite it either.

I can’t place it. Must be my imagination.

Demian is the hero among heroes, a righteous and just protagonist with a fitting personality.

I approached Demian, intending to at least strike up a conversation.

“Hey, blondie. Demian, was it? I recognize you from the entrance exam.”

“My name is Demian, but what do you want? Don’t tell me a special admission student wants to challenge me to a duel?”

No. I’d rather not duel you and reveal all my cards to Knut.

“Nothing like that, just wanted to talk. I’m Haschal Median Aishan-Gioro. Call me Haschal, or Mr. Haschal, whatever you prefer.”

“Talk?”

Demian tilted his head.

“I saw you during the entrance exam, and you seemed pretty skilled. Let’s be friends from now on. I like capable people.”

How should I befriend him?

I’ve introduced myself, so I should probably start with a handshake, right?

As a gesture of goodwill, I smiled slightly and extended my right hand.

Demian stared at my hand for a moment before reaching out.

“Don’t fall for it, Demian!”

Millia stepped in front of Demian, blocking him, and glared at me with trembling eyes full of hostility.

What’s her problem?

Does Millia hate Ka’har too? I don’t recall that being part of her character.

“What’s with you? I have business with the guy behind you, not you.”

“M-Millia? Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“I-I heard Ka’har practice marriage by abduction! Be careful, the way she’s flirting makes it obvious she’s after you!”

What?

The cigarette fell from my mouth onto the ground.

Damn it.

That was expensive.

“I wasn’t flirting…! And I have no such intentions…!”

My teeth clenched in indignation.

If anyone’s flirting here, it’s you…!

I just thought he’d be useful in the long run, so I wanted to establish a decent relationship…!

“T-then what? Why would the Ka’har villainess suddenly approach Demian? Anyone would find it suspicious!”

“Millia, that kind of talk is disrespectful to others.”

Demian restrained Millia.

Yes, he gets it. It’s extremely disrespectful. How dare she.

“But…!”

“Enough. Haschal, was it? I’m Demian. Looking forward to working with you.”

Demian took my hand and shook it up and down.

I should be the one looking forward to it. After all, he’ll be my lifeline in the future.

“…I don’t accept this.”

Millia muttered dejectedly.

How petty.

I’ll need to manage her too, to prevent her corruption. What a headache.

“So what? Are you his lover or something? Why are you so intent on interfering?”

“L-lover? No… but friend! Yes, childhood friend!”

Millia proudly puffed out her chest as she exclaimed.

Though her cheeks were bright red and her eyes trembling.

This is truly pitiful.

She’s so rabbit-like that I can’t even bring myself to be angry.

I should just say something reasonably convincing.

“Lover or childhood friend, I have no interest in men weaker than me, so please relax. I only approached him because he seemed like a worthy warrior to fight alongside.”

“…You’re that strong? I’ve never seen anyone our age stronger than Demian.”

Millia muttered skeptically.

She has no idea.

If I went all out, the protagonist could be reduced to meat chunks within thirty exchanges.

Of course, I’d be expelled, and the world would probably end.

“If you don’t believe me, want to duel? I’ll go easy on you.”

Being Demian’s childhood friend, I shouldn’t be too rough with her.

Her skill level is a bit ambiguous for showcasing my strength, but at this point, most people are roughly on the same level except for a few.

Besides, if she refuses, Ophelia might be my only remaining option for a duel partner.

“A duel? Why me…? If that’s what you want, shouldn’t you duel Demian?”

“I’d rather not draw too much attention from that direction.”

I nodded slightly toward Knut.

He’s still glaring at me. Terrifying.

When not in class, I should always have Nigel accompany me.

“Hmm…”

Millia hesitated. So, she doesn’t think she can beat me?

At least she has some self-awareness.

“If you win, I promise not to approach Demian anymore. On the name of Aishan-Gioro.”

“I’ll do it.”

That was her most resolute voice yet.

…She’s really trying hard.

“…Does my opinion not matter here?”

Demian muttered.

And that’s how my dueling partner was decided.

…I hope I won’t cause her corruption if I win here?

—-

Twenty minutes passed.

At Professor Carlain’s assembly call, all the freshmen gathered in front of the parade ground again.

Following the professor’s instructions, only those who chose to duel remained in the center of the training field, while spectators withdrew to the perimeter.

About sixty people? Surprisingly, not many had opted for dueling.

While the religious faculty was mostly priests, I hadn’t expected half of the knight and magic faculties to choose to watch.

Professor Carlain frowned deeply, clearly displeased, but perhaps because of what she had said earlier, she didn’t get angry.

Though she did quietly mutter about how pathetic they were.

Since the training field couldn’t accommodate all 30 pairs dueling simultaneously, the duels would be conducted in three rounds with 10 pairs each.

“Now, I will commence the first basic dueling session of the human combat lecture. If we finish all 60 participants with time to spare, we’ll continue with volunteers. First group, prepare yourselves.”

Asha was in the first group, and I was in the third.

“A match ends when one side surrenders or allows an attack that would render them combat-ineffective. Weapons will be coated with hardening mucus to make them non-lethal, but if anyone deliberately tries to kill their opponent, I will intervene. Pay particular attention to controlling the power of your magic.”

“Hardening mucus?”

“It’s adhesive from rock slimes. It hardens upon impact, making a sword function more like a blunt weapon. Though it doesn’t last long.”

I didn’t know such a thing existed.

Learning something new.

Eventually, twenty students coated their weapons with the mucus and gathered in the center of the training field.

Carlain signaled for the duels to begin.

I lit a new cigarette and watched Asha and her opponent.

“Then, I’ll begin.”

Asha stroked her lance once before connecting it to the metal frame on her right elbow.

A clicking sound was heard.

“Using a lance while standing on the ground, not even in mounted combat…?”

Asha’s opponent, the frivolous man, held a broad one-handed sword and a round shield, covering his upper body with the shield.

It was a typical defense against a lance charge.

It might have worked if his opponent were human.

When Asha pulled a lever near her shoulder, a heavy engine sound emanated from the machine on her back, emitting smoke through the exhaust port.

Flames ignited from the vents on her back and waist.

Next, she turned switches on the outside of both knees, and with a ground-shaking boom, Asha’s body rose about 3cm off the ground.

Flames and strong winds blasted from beneath her feet, continuously tearing up the ground.

“Huh…?”

The man, startled by the levitating dwarf, stared blankly at the sight.

Asha pointed her lance at the man.

It was a textbook stance—tucking the large lance under her armpit and securing it with the metal frame to prevent it from drooping.

“Charging jet pack activation confirmed. Boost charge, set.”

…Is it really necessary to say that out loud…?

Well, I guess that’s Asha’s personal fantasy. Let’s be generous and let it slide.

“Taaaaaaah!”

With a battle cry, a storm of flames erupted from Asha’s back.

Leaving a red trajectory in its wake, Asha’s lance rushed through the air.

The astonished man gripped his shield firmly.

—-

…There was a fact that the man, Asha, and even I had overlooked.

Asha was a dwarf, and until she came as a special admission student this time, all of Asha’s opponents were probably other dwarves.

The man’s shield perfectly covered his upper body as per proper lance defense, and Asha’s stance was also textbook, aiming for the opponent’s chest.

The problem was that Asha’s height was only about half that of the man.

…And consequently, her point of impact was that much lower.

A terrible scream echoed throughout the academy.

I shuddered at the horrific tragedy brought about by the difference between the two races, realizing an uncomfortable truth:

The reason why Asha had such a high critical hit rate against humanoid enemies.