Ch.29I Was So Bored I Felt Like Dying

There was a brief commotion, but it was quickly resolved.

The man who had been facing Asha was carried to the infirmary, shedding red tears between his legs and foaming at the mouth.

They said that while potions and healing blessings would restore the organ itself, he would have to accept the dysfunction caused by psychological trauma.

Asha, seemingly not having intended such devastation, laughed awkwardly while breaking into a cold sweat.

Perhaps no one would have the courage to challenge Asha to a duel until graduation.

I too have no intention of even mentioning the word “duel” to Asha ever again.

With that mechanical device’s charging power, normal defenses would be easily broken through, and when such an unstoppable attack targets the lower region…

It was truly a malicious tactic seemingly designed to bring about human extinction.

The gazes directed at Asha and me now contained nothing but fear.

“Ahaha… I caused an accident. Back home, I never considered the height difference.”

“Well, at least no one will bother you anymore. Not ever.”

Asha laughed, the corners of her eyes twitching.

—-

Despite having a victim, the duels continued as if such sacrifices were expected.

Nothing particularly special happened in the first group after that.

Demian swung his greatsword and sent his shield-bearing opponent flying in a single blow, shield and all.

Edgar cast healing blessings on himself and fought a battle of endurance, eventually securing his opponent’s surrender after they tired from attacking.

Knut didn’t participate in any duels at all.

I heard Demian had challenged him to a duel but was refused.

Perhaps he’s also wary of revealing his capabilities to me.

Eventually, the second group’s duels began.

Ophelia, who had been half-closing her eyes lazily, tossed away the Mana Herb she’d been chewing and headed toward the center of the training ground.

“That mage seems to concern you, Haschal?”

Noticing my gaze, Asha spoke to me.

I nodded.

Of course she concerns me. She’s an important character, after all.

“Come to think of it, you were focused only on that woman during the entrance exam too. Her name is… Ophelia, right?”

“Yes. Ophelia. I just get the feeling she’s much more skilled than she appears.”

“Is that so? Well, some people want to hide their abilities. Everyone has their reasons.”

Ophelia van Sigmillus. The second daughter of Count Sigmillus.

A young prodigy who manifested magic at the age of five.

Despite her early genius, she only displayed mediocre abilities after growing up, so she’s no longer a person of particular note.

She ranked around 4th in the entrance exam.

A rank that perfectly reflected her inner desire: not wanting to stand out too much, but not wanting to be ignored either.

She’ll probably maintain that attitude until she faces a genuine life-threatening situation.

Ophelia’s opponent was a young man wielding a long spear. He pointed his spear at her and charged.

Ophelia leisurely raised her left hand, then flipped her palm and clenched her fist.

With a sound like dozens of pebbles being crushed at once, the young man’s spear crumpled in all directions.

Then Ophelia lightly flicked her left hand.

With a thud, the young man’s body bent in half.

Without time to scream, he flew through the air and collapsed on the ground, coughing and writhing.

As Ophelia drew her hand downward through the air, another dull impact sound rang out, and the young man’s body went limp.

He was clearly incapacitated.

Unlike the 1st-3rd ranked mages, there were no flashy flames, lightning, or thunderous sounds, but it was an impressively concise and precise response.

“She fights well indeed. Not much of a spectacle though.”

“She’s more dangerous in one-on-one combat. You can’t even see her attacks.”

Attacks with no warning signs or visible manifestations—the only way to counter them is to use all your senses to detect them.

Either directly sensing mana through a sixth sense or perceiving air currents through touch.

Neither option is easy.

After finishing her duel, Ophelia took out a long Mana Herb, glanced in our direction, and started puffing smoke again.

She seems quite interested in me, though I’m not sure why.

It’s not a look of hatred or anything. More like curiosity.

Eventually, all the duels in the second group ended, and finally, it was my turn.

I headed to the center of the training ground with Millia.

Demian, unsure whom to cheer for, just said something like, “Both of you do your best.”

I’m not sure how telling both fighters to do their best counts as cheering for either of us.

Still, Millia seemed to take it as encouragement, smiling happily as she gripped her scabbard.

—-

“Third group, prepare for duels.”

Standing face to face with Millia, I drew the steel longsword I’d received from Nigel.

I could feel dozens of sharp gazes fixed on me, almost making my skin itch.

Right. They want to know if the rumors about me are true.

If the princess of the Ka’har, a barbarian race, is truly strong enough to defeat a dozen knights in an instant.

If the stories about my brutality are accurate.

They’ll find out soon.

…Though I have no intention of proving the latter against Demian’s childhood friend.

Well, with potions and healing priests available, minor injuries shouldn’t be a problem, right?

I lightly placed my left hand on the blade of my sword and pointed it toward Millia.

Millia gripped a narrow rapier in her right hand, staring at me with a stern expression.

A small round shield was attached to her left wrist.

A small shield and a rapier. Not a wise choice against me.

I wasn’t planning to use Imperial swordsmanship.

It would be wasteful to reveal my techniques against her; basic swordplay and brute force should suffice.

Everyone already knows about my physical abilities from rumors anyway.

I glanced briefly toward the spectators.

As expected, Knut was staring at me without blinking.

…He’s becoming more and more irritating. Perhaps I should eliminate him sooner rather than later.

Suddenly, a bitter smile crossed my face.

Having fled all the way to the Empire to escape the Ka’har who indiscriminately slaughter innocent people…

Yet here I am, thinking about killing someone who likely has legitimate grievances against me, simply because he might become an obstacle.

Perhaps I’m not so different from them after all.

No.

I am me. I’m not Hersella of the Ka’har.

I’m Haschal of Remnant Academy.

I have no intention of bearing her karma.

Knut’s grudge is directed at Hersella’s sins.

For me, it’s nothing but an unjust venting of anger.

So if he insists on becoming my obstacle…

…I’ll have no choice but to kill him.

I can do whatever it takes to survive.

Refocusing my troubled mind, I tightened my grip on the sword hilt.

Finally, Carlain’s command rang out.

—-

“Haaah!”

Millia charged toward me with quite a desperate expression.

The ground beneath her feet slightly caved as her body shot forward quickly.

The blunted tip of her sword, coated with hardening mucus, came toward my solar plexus.

But it was too slow.

I swung my longsword sideways, easily deflecting it.

Millia lost her balance and staggered past me.

I twisted my waist and swung my left arm behind me.

Millia barely blocked it with her shield and was pushed back with a groan. Her arm trembled.

She’s ridiculously weak. Is this really the level of a knight-in-training?

I sighed, transferring the cigarette I was holding to my left hand.

“Haah. Why don’t you just surrender?”

“Not yet!”

Millia gritted her teeth and kept thrusting her sword at me. A shower of silver streaks poured forth.

They appeared so slow to me that they resembled snowflakes rather than raindrops.

I stepped forward and swung my sword in a diagonal arc.

Clang!

All the streaks disappeared at once, and her arm was flung upward.

I kicked her exposed abdomen with moderate force.

“Kugh!”

With a choked gasp, Millia fell backward.

“I’m saying this for your own good.”

There’s nothing for me to gain by beating you up.

“Kuhuk, kek… kehek…! Shut… up…!”

Spitting and coughing for a while, Millia gritted her teeth, used her sword like a cane, and stood up.

Haah… I should just end this with one blow.

I put the cigarette back in my mouth and placed my left hand on the sword hilt.

If I overwhelm her completely in one strike, she won’t be shocked by her own lack of skill.

Rather than despairing over her weakness, she’ll think I’m simply beyond the level of a freshman, like Demian does.

My thrust, too fast for her to even react to, pierced through her shoulder.

“Kyaaaah!”

Blood spurted out.

Protective gear and hardening mucus meant nothing.

If the blade becomes dull, I’ll just pierce through with the dull edge.

Bits of mangled flesh clung to the tip of the sword that protruded beyond her shoulder.

“Kuh, uuugh…! Aaaaargh!”

Screaming in pain, Millia gritted her teeth, grabbed my longsword, and tried to stab me back.

Good. At least your fighting spirit is admirable.

I tilted my head to avoid the thrust and grabbed Millia’s right arm.

A crushing sound came from Millia’s right arm as my vise-like fingers compressed it.

Her right hand went limp, and the rapier she was holding fell to the ground.

Millia’s mouth opened wide in extreme pain.

I barely suppressed the instinct to shove my fist into that mouth.

If I did that, Millia would be incapacitated.

And Demian would probably become my enemy.

As I pulled the longsword out of Millia’s shoulder, another spray of blood soaked my face.

The smell of blood circled my nostrils, and the heat flowed down my cheeks to below my collarbone.

Millia let out a moan.

“First, grow up a bit.”

I lightly struck her temple with the pommel of my sword.

Millia’s eyes rolled back, and she collapsed limply to the ground.

Blood from her shoulder formed a pool, and her body twitched convulsively.

…She’s not dead, right?

—-

Millia was also taken to the infirmary.

Compound fracture of the right arm, and some shoulder muscles torn off, they said.

But with proper treatment and rest, she should recover roughly within a day.

Feeling a bit concerned, I scratched the back of my head while checking Demian’s reaction.

“Are… you okay? I sent your childhood friend to the infirmary.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry, Haschal. She’ll recover after just a day of rest. Millia gave it her all, so she’ll understand.”

It’s a clean and mature attitude befitting a future hero, but not really what one would normally say to someone who seriously injured their friend.

…Well, if that’s how you feel, so be it.

Demian said he was still worried about Millia and asked Carlain if he could visit the infirmary.

Carlain thought for a moment before giving permission.

Probably because Demian had already finished his own duel.

Asha said she had a new idea and returned to the special quarters.

Is that even allowed for a special admission student?

—-

I wiped the blood from my face and spat out the blood-soaked cigarette, lighting a new one.

The disgusted looks from the students secretly satisfied me.

This is working well.

If I repeat this just once or twice more, I can definitely instill fear in them.

They said that after all the third group’s duels ended, those who wished could participate in free duels all morning.

I’ll take down two or three more then.

I won’t need to be considerate like I was with Millia, so I’ll make it decisive.

The question is whether there’s anyone hot-blooded enough to fight me…

I looked around at the freshmen, but most of them avoided eye contact.

This is troublesome.

Then, my eyes met Ophelia’s.

Ophelia, who had been watching me while fidgeting with the long herb in her mouth, nodded once and then walked toward me with clicking footsteps.

What’s this? At this point, Ophelia shouldn’t be seeking others’ attention.

“You there, Ka’har woman. Your name was Haschal, wasn’t it? Princess of Aishan-Gioro.”

Ophelia addressed me.