Ch.31Sword Saint – 3

It took a full two days for the return of the Sword Saint ‘Rahel Daybreaker,’ once called humanity’s last hope.

All humans who had been anxiously awaiting the outcome were shocked to learn that the Sword Saint’s right arm had been severed. They hurriedly transported armfuls of elixirs from the Emperor’s treasury and poured them like water over her wounds.

At the same time, they were equally shocked to discover that a mountain of undead corpses, estimated to number around one million in volume, had formed at the site of the battle.

Although she had failed to capture the Demon Lord, everyone showered her with praise for annihilating nearly a million undead troops. Yet the Sword Saint herself wore an expression of profound gloom as she received these accolades.

Because she knew the achievement was not truly hers.

After that, Rahel could no longer wield a sword. Nor could she use her right arm. The sensations were too vivid—bones being crushed under the Demon Lord’s foot, skin tearing, flesh being pulverized.

‘I must endure.’

But she couldn’t collapse here. Even if the human Rahel fell, the Sword Saint Daybreaker must not.

She had already become humanity’s hope, just as the Demon Lord had said. Therefore, she must never show weakness under any circumstances.

So she used her left arm instead of her right, and gripped whatever she could instead of a sword, infusing it with mana and swinging it like a blade. People who didn’t know the truth cheered at the sight of such a Sword Saint.

‘…I should have died there instead.’

Rahel thought this several times a day. If only she had died there. If she hadn’t desperately struggled to return alive, but had died gloriously alongside the million undead troops.

Then Sword Saint Rahel Daybreaker would have been praised as a hero who faced an infinite army, cut them all down, and met a moving end.

But although Rahel understood this intellectually, she ultimately couldn’t bring herself to act on it.

‘I don’t… want to die.’

She wanted to live. Even if her life was merely being kept alive rather than truly surviving, she didn’t want to throw it away with her own hands.

After letting out a hollow laugh as self-loathing washed over her upon realizing her situation, Rahel began experiencing extreme phantom pain in her right arm whenever the trauma of that day resurfaced.

There were numerous times when she wanted to cut off her arm just to end the unbearable pain. But again, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Because Rahel was a coward.

The confident Sword Saint Rahel Daybreaker, who had vowed to kill the Demon Lord and save humanity, had become a fragile woman who suffered from severe trauma and phantom pain, silently crying herself to sleep each night.

‘…How?’

Because of this, because her body now reacted instinctively to anything related to the Demon Lord, Rahel was all the more confused. A shock as great as the phantom pain in her right arm shook her mind.

‘How… can I sense fragments of the Demon Lord’s techniques from this child?’

She couldn’t be certain about what was triggering her trauma.

After the Sword Saint left abruptly, claiming she had urgent business while quietly enduring her pain, our gathering came to an awkward end.

“Was she very busy?”

“Well, she is the Sword Saint. It wouldn’t be strange for her to have a thing or two to attend to…”

Brunhild and Aria looked puzzled. Because of the Sword Saint’s flowing garments, they couldn’t see her massaging her arm unless they were directly in front of her like I was.

It seems she might have worn such clothes precisely for that purpose.

In the end, we parted ways with questions unanswered. Naturally, the reason why the Sword Saint had called me aside also became a forgotten matter.

Instead, I honestly told Priscilla when she asked me about it later that night, and her reaction was extremely, tremendously, terrifyingly intense.

‘…At least I managed to convince her.’

Otherwise, we might have both ended up absent for about a week.

Two days after that incident, on Monday of the fourth week, exactly one month before midterms, two special events occurred.

“The Sword Saint Rahel Daybreaker, humanity’s hope and unparalleled hero, has decided to stay at our Bellium Academy as a special instructor for the three years that the Hero is enrolled.”

There was an official announcement that the Sword Saint would remain at Bellium Academy as a special instructor for three years.

“…Those goddamn bastards.”

And Ingrid returned from the Mages’ Association, where she had gone regarding the improvement of area-of-effect annihilation magic.

After returning to the academy and finishing a brief meeting with the chairman, Ingrid immediately called for me and cursed the Mages’ Association with an exhausted face. She seemed to have been put through hell.

As expected of a group of madmen who would jump at anything related to magic without hesitation. There was a reason I gave up on both fame and money.

‘That’s what makes them useful, though.’

If I were to reveal the existence of healing magic, those madmen would become my allies without question. They would tear apart the Starlight Order no matter what they tried to do.

Originally, madmen can be incredibly reliable if you have the means to properly leash and handle them.

“…Ahem. I’ve been talking too much about my own grievances. Anyway, Mira Crate, you no longer need to attend my lectures. You’re also exempt from both midterms and finals.”

After ranting about the Association for a while, Ingrid finally came to her senses after nearly ten minutes and got to the point. She would give me a perfect score as per the conditions of the assignment she had given me.

True to her word, the time when professors started mentioning midterms was approaching. However, the atmosphere was quite different from the exam periods I was familiar with.

Everyone was burning with enthusiasm, saying it was time to show their skills.

Among them were those who fueled their motivation with hostility toward me, but I was so used to it that it hardly bothered me. It also helped that the Viking, the ringleader of such people, had quieted down.

‘I just need to do what I’ve been doing.’

Despite the condition that I needed to be the top student for all three years, I didn’t feel much pressure. That’s because I hardly had anything to prepare separately.

First-year students at Bellium Academy take a total of ten courses. Half of these are theoretical lectures that Priscilla has completely mastered, and it’s not like I’ve neglected my studies either, so I just need to continue as I have been.

Of the remaining half, the area-of-effect annihilation magic course is guaranteed to be a perfect score, and for the practical combat course, Jake has essentially confirmed perfect scores for Brunhild, Aria, and me.

The dungeon exploration practicum, scheduled to resume this week, will change its grading system to an absolute evaluation due to the previous incident. Though this is limited to this semester only.

That leaves two courses, both of which are electives unrelated to grades. If I just ask Priscilla to help me with the theoretical lectures, there’s not much else I need to prepare.

Naturally, my recent interests have been focused elsewhere rather than on midterms.

‘I need to get stronger.’

One concern was about enemies I would have to face outside the academy, not inside.

The Sword Saint was incredibly powerful even while suffering from trauma and fighting with a teaspoon in her left hand, and the Demon Lord was a being who overwhelmed the Sword Saint in her prime.

Honestly, if she had gone all out without worrying about appearances, I think the Sword Saint might have somehow won, but that doesn’t change the fact that the Demon Lord is an exceptional existence.

So I too needed to become stronger.

‘I also need to consider the possibility that Brunhild might not grow as much as in the original story.’

The reason is obviously because of me. She should be building her skills by defeating troublemakers, but there’s a high probability that I’ll beat those troublemakers first in my effort to protect the academy.

What can I do but take on the grinding in place of the experience points I’ve stolen?

“It’s you again, Mira?”

“…This time I’m truly innocent.”

“So you’re saying you did have something to feel guilty about before?”

“…”

And the other concern was the Sword Saint, whose gaze toward me had changed quite subtly.

After returning from experiencing phantom pain, the Sword Saint, now in her position as a special instructor, showed a strangely strong interest in me. I tried to recall if I had done something wrong, but nothing came to mind.

“B-but isn’t that a good thing? The Sword Saint herself is taking an interest in you.”

“That’s the problem, Aria. I mean, how long has it been since we first met?”

Brunhild playfully grumbled that I was getting all the attention again, while Aria genuinely marveled at it while trying to defend me.

Priscilla remained restless.

The Sword Saint’s strange interest didn’t end there. When our group of four decided to form a club, she volunteered to be our advisor without even being asked.

I tried to quickly ask Ingrid to be our advisor instead of the Sword Saint, but sadly, even the title of Archmage fell short compared to the Sword Saint.

“So I look forward to working with you from now on, Student Mira.”

“…”

No, seriously, what’s going on?