Ch.38EP.12 – The Knight Wore a Black Octagonal Hat (1)

In truth, Ihan didn’t have to accept that challenge.

Why?

‘There’s nothing to gain from it.’

There was nothing to be gained by accepting that proposal.

Above all.

‘What am I supposed to do with these things that aren’t even people yet?’

Young masters, seedlings, and chicks.

To him, the cadets were nothing more than fragile little animals with a long way to go.

‘Though some of them are better than most knights.’

The Barbarian’s descendant, the Sword Master’s offspring, the Mercenary King’s disciple.

And our returner too.

Those ones were different. But only them—the others were hopelessly inadequate.

To make an extreme comparison, like eagles versus mice.

‘Is something weaker than an assistant instructor even human?’

Ironically, excluding those four, the strongest was Damian Pollet.

Ihan’s three-year assistant instructor (slave).

Amusingly, if the others were mice, that guy would at least be a cat.

As expected of someone from a prestigious knight family, his fundamentals were solid, and his combat techniques were quite excellent.

He was consistently showing progress in the steel wire jump rope training that Ihan was putting him through.

Absurdly enough, if the four people mentioned earlier had top-tier talent, then Damian would at least be in the upper tier.

His personality was the problem—everything else about him was impressive.

Anyway, given the situation, Ihan had absolutely no intention of making them play games like proxy battles.

Putting those things out there now would only lead to embarrassment.

…However.

“Instructor! I’ll do it, the proxy battle.”

“Are we supposed to be afraid of mere mages?”

“How dare those spell-casters challenge us! Ha! This is an insult to knights!”

“I’ll bring back their heads.”

“Send me. I’ll make them wet themselves at the mere mention of the Swordsmanship Department.”

“…These brats.”

As expected of knight candidates, even if they were just cadets.

‘That’s right, knights can’t just stand by when spell-casters come charging in.’

They understand something.

‘These ones are growing well.’

Ihan wiped his tingling nose bridge, hiding his emotion.

He was beginning to understand the feeling of a master who takes pride in his disciples’ growth.

* * *

Perhaps moved by his disciples’ intense determination, Ihan was somewhat inclined to accept the proposal, but first decided to hear what nonsense the man had to say.

Sure enough.

“‘The winner of this proxy battle must unconditionally follow the orders of the other party during their teaching career.’ …Did I read that correctly?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re funny. What kind of childish condition is this?”

As expected, the condition was beyond ridiculous—it was downright dirty.

“Ha, just decide whether you’re in or not!”

He seems to realize his condition is outrageous.

Such a crude condition.

His immaturity is clearly showing in this aspect.

‘I misunderstood because of his appearance and way of speaking.’

Since talented mages are so rare, there are naturally few mages in the department.

That’s why someone so young could hold a professor position.

…Though the probability that he got it because of his appearance can’t be ignored.

Anyway, apart from being a mage and looking 82 years old despite being 28, everything else about him is amateurish.

Not only is his thinking shallow, but he can’t suppress his fiery temperament.

When he reaches a more mature age, such aspects might improve…

‘No, someone like him would just become more sinister.’

He’s already so brash at his young age—what happens when he ages with power and strength to back up that attitude?

Such people become sinister.

Truly the type Ihan hated dealing with.

But right now, he was easy to handle.

“I refuse. This doesn’t benefit me at all. Why should I take orders from a mere spell-caster?”

“What! B-but conversely, I would follow your…!”

“Your?”

“…I would follow your orders, don’t you realize what a valuable opportunity this is!”

Odwal quickly corrected himself, not wanting to be educated by Ihan’s fist, but he remained confident.

And for good reason—it was an opportunity to give orders to a mage.

This was clearly more valuable than gold.

From his perspective, it was a condition that recognized his own worth, and one he had sufficiently contemplated.

“…I’m curious, what exactly do you want to order me to do with this condition?”

“Hmph, you—I mean, first I must rescue Lady Irene from your clutches.”

“What else?”

“I’ll make you kneel!”

“…And?”

“After that, of course… Ahem, nothing particular beyond that.”

“……”

…What a peculiar lunatic?

Is he really volunteering for a slave contract just for that?

When Ihan pointed out this absurdity, the man flared up and shouted.

“For a mage’s honor, anything!”

“…Good grief.”

He’s a bad person with a broken personality and a discriminator, but strangely, everything about him is half-baked.

This is a Magic Department professor?

What impressively childish behavior.

‘I thought he might ask me to introduce him to my connections, but just that?’

Not even human experimentation, just giving a few orders.

‘Honestly, even if he makes such a pledge, he could just break it…’

It was a promise made on each other’s honor, but Ihan had no honor to uphold in the first place.

The same went for pledges made in the name of the knighthood.

All that mattered to him was his life and the muscles he was anxious about losing.

“Fine, but don’t break your promise.”

“I swear on a mage’s honor!”

“Then I swear on the name of Baltar Grace.”

“…Swearing on that man’s name? Good! That’s trustworthy!”

Click!

And so the gullible mage rejoiced as if his plan had already succeeded.

Not knowing there was a knight who considered Baltar’s name less valuable than dog food.

* * *

“—Some of you may have already heard, but in one month, you will face off against the mage cadets.”

“What form will the competition take?”

“[War Game].”

“…The mages used their heads.”

“Kunta, don’t you know what that is?”

“To explain simply, it’s a virtual war.”

“?”

“In other words…”

War Game.

It refers to a game where you roll dice, devise strategies, and move pieces on an enlarged map to conduct a virtual war.

But its meaning has evolved somewhat in the present.

To provide nobles with greater stimulation, it has transformed into a ‘real war environment’ War Game.

Gacha, no…

It has evolved into a money-wasting game.

They purchase a forest or abandoned plain, hire mercenaries or retired soldiers to wage war on their own, and the nobles watch this spectacle.

What Ihan had played a few times in his previous life as an auto-hunting phone game, the nobles had constructed more viciously through their extravagant spending.

Just watching others wage war for entertainment.

There could be no greater evil.

“…It feels like playing with people’s lives.”

Kunta’s sincere sentiment.

Arno nodded in understanding.

However.

“That aspect certainly exists. But this game doesn’t only have negative elements.”

“?”

“For knights, soldiers, mercenaries—those who live by the sword—it’s quite beneficial.”

“How so?”

“It’s easy to gain practical experience and indirectly experience war. Yet the risk of death is extremely low.”

“Is that possible?”

“It’s a regulation set by the kingdom. Not following it means incurring the royal family’s displeasure, and few are foolish enough to ignore that.”

“Ah…”

Kunta finally understood.

Indeed, if one could experience both combat and war through a proxy war with significantly reduced risk to life, it would be invaluable.

Especially for Barbarians, where typically five out of ten die in conflicts.

“Because of this, some mercenaries specialize exclusively in War Game missions. Isn’t that right, mercenary?”

“That’s right. It’s quite lucrative. In our industry, there’s a lot of fighting over who gets these jobs, hehe.”

Although they disliked being entertainment for nobles, it was a profitable venture in the mercenary industry, which was already facing declining job opportunities.

And with less risk of death or losing limbs, it was even better.

With Garand’s testimony, even the seedling cadets who weren’t familiar with War Games breathed sighs of relief.

…However.

“Kunta has more questions. Arno said earlier that the spell-casters used their heads. What does that mean?”

“Ah, that? It’s simple. Mages have the highest win rate in War Games.”

“…Huh?”

…His following statement left everyone dumbfounded.

“In war, firepower is ultimately what matters. Rather than individual strength, a destructive strike is more efficient and quickly subdues the opponent. In that sense, magic is overwhelming in War Games. …Though for a knight of Instructor’s caliber, even overwhelming firepower would be useless.”

Everyone’s gaze briefly turned to Ihan.

Certainly, someone like him could single-handedly destroy a castle in a siege.

But conversely:

“…So you’re saying we’re at an overwhelming disadvantage?”

“T-that can’t be…!”

“I-is this okay?”

A bewildered atmosphere spread.

The seedlings were especially affected, and the chick ladies looked gloomy too.

The young master group showed less surprise, but they too were visibly troubled, not having expected the competition to be a War Game.

Having watched War Games since childhood, they knew how formidable mages’ firepower could be.

However, while tense, they were determined not to lose.

After all, knights are the protagonists of the battlefield.

No matter how much firepower one has, it can’t match a knight’s breakthrough power and spirit.

And even as cadets, they lived with the goal of becoming knights.

So even in an unfavorable War Game, they were confident they could win…

“—Oh, by the way, you young masters won’t be participating in this War Game. Only the seedlings will.”

-!!!?

This time, with a silent exclamation of shock, all the cadets looked at their instructor with the same thought.

…He’s insane.

Regardless of what they said, Ihan was serious.

“This is what you chose.”

You said you would fight the spell-casters.

You declared you could win.

Then you must keep your word.

“Unfair, you say? You haven’t learned combat techniques? Don’t worry, you still have a month.”

A month might seem short, but it’s quite a long time.

Some people lose 20kg in a month, while others train for a month to run a full 42.195km marathon.

Thus, a month is sufficient time for a person to change, or rather, transform dramatically.

“If you just listen to me, that is.”

The cadets didn’t see it, but in Ihan’s back pocket, a hat was sticking out, boldly asserting its presence.

A black octagonal cap.

It was just a plain black octagonal cap with no special features, but somehow it exuded an ominous atmosphere.