episode_0075

Tuesday dawned after the high-ranking demon’s Monday invasion, which had thrown Leone Academy into an uproar.

Aside from the fact that the demons had targeted Rosalie, the exact scale and specific objective of the invasion had not yet been clearly identified, so the Academy maintained a state of wartime readiness.

All regular lectures were suspended. Instead, a type of lecture with the grand title of “Practical Application” was being held.

Well… the collapse of the main building, preventing classes from being held there, also contributed to the Academy’s continued state of readiness.

And…

“It was a truly magnificent duel. Deurosa, was it? She was an incredibly powerful demon. More powerful than any demon I fought while patrolling the front lines…”

“Wow…!!!”

Isera, wrapped in bandages from her left eye down to her neck, arms, and various other parts of her body, had become the superstar of the Academy’s fledglings.

Our Isera, who had sent the high-ranking demon Deurosa to the afterlife after a fierce battle in Maugenndorf Forest…!

However, she enjoyed boasting about her expertise and achievements, so she embellished the true story with a few dramatic elements, slightly exaggerating her accomplishments.

For example…

“She was probably the leader among the demons who invaded Delphi and Leone this time. A high-ranking demon… no, perhaps an even higher-ranking demon?”

This included overestimating Deurosa’s strength, going beyond mere generosity, as she was currently doing about her fierce battle. (For reference, Deurosa was the weakest of the three invading demons.)

“Professor-nim. You fought such a strong demon, weren’t you afraid or hesitant? I encountered a large male demon and my hair turned white.”

First-year Aylin Biggs, an aspiring warrior, had been Lizley’s squad member and stood watch with him.

He didn’t think his skills were exceptionally great, but he had never imagined he would be so terrified by an enemy that he couldn’t even breathe.

Being completely overwhelmed by Haimon’s pressure remained a shameful memory for him.

Isera looked at Aylin, who openly spoke of his embarrassing experience, with an admirable gaze, then smiled contentedly and answered him.

“There’s no need to be too ashamed, Aylin, since you were affected by a high-ranking demon’s pressure. Well, for someone like me, that kind of thing doesn’t work, though.”

“Pressure??”

Azuldar was in constant sporadic conflict with Sephiroth, but having never participated in a large-scale war, their information on demons was surprisingly scarce.

Especially because the front line with Azuldar was a place only for those with incredibly bad luck or those truly obsessed with combat, the lack of information was even more severe.

So it wasn’t strange that first-year fledglings with no war experience didn’t know about pressure, which was practically an exclusive ability of high-ranking demons.

Isera thought she should properly explain demons in a lecture soon and kindly described it to the still-immature students.

“The mana they use is very different from human mana. Setting aside the complex theories, high-ranking demons are beings who, by their very existence, can subjugate mana and the surrounding environment itself.”

“Wow… so we really encountered someone incredibly powerful.”

Isera found the chirping of the cute fledglings very endearing, so she continued her explanation in a softer tone than usual.

“It’s similar to the fear magic used by dragons or powerful dark mages. Anyway, fledglings like you wouldn’t have been able to withstand it properly. Unless you wet your pants, there’s no particular reason to be ashamed.”

“Hahaha!!! Aylin, you didn’t actually pee yourself, did you?”

At Isera’s joke, which lightened the mood, the gathered audience instantly burst into laughter.

Aylin scratched the back of his head awkwardly and replied,

“Ah…! It wasn’t that bad, really. But if the demon had threatened me a bit more, I might have actually soaked my pants…?”

Meanwhile, his ability to smoothly counter with humor without losing his composure was quite excellent.

“Hehe. Your skill at responding to a senior’s joke is excellent. You’ll be well-regarded if you go to the battlefield. Anyway… when fighting creatures like demons, motivation is important.”

“Motivation?”

The fledglings’ eyes sparkling as they listened to War Hero Isera’s unexpected short lecture.

“Yes. A strong desire to live, precious things to protect… the stronger these are in a person, the better they can shake off attacks like fear or pressure. No, in fact, this is essential in battles against demons or dark mages. It’s also called ‘spirit.’ In a do-or-die, one-shot confrontation, the solidity of one’s spirit determines victory. Just like me.”

“Wow….. then what was Teacher-nim’s motivation?”

Isera gently stroked the head of a female student whose eyes were sparkling as she asked, then continued as if it were nothing.

“Love. Do you happen to know the saying that a woman becomes stronger when she falls in love?”

“Oh my goodness!!!! With whom, exactly?”

“There is. Hehe… He’s the one who gave me a lovely gift.”

However, despite her calm and collected tone, the words she uttered were quite shocking. No… perhaps romantic?

Anyway, at Isera’s bombshell statement, the female students shrieked, and the male students somehow blushed with expressions like, ‘I don’t know who it is, but I’m envious. I wish it were me…’

When she turned her eyes, Isera’s gaze fell upon her gloves, almost completely ruined by the fierce battle… Yet, the gloves somehow exuded a loving feeling they hadn’t possessed before.

Isera gazed at her tattered gloves, mentally replaying the fierce decisive battle with Deurosa for a moment.

*

At that time… what was I like, again?

“Mutual destruction… that won’t do. When this battle ends, I have to confess to him.”

First of all, the line I uttered right before the decisive battle honestly made me feel incredibly cool, even after saying it myself.

Thinking back, it was truly tragic and cool…! As expected, Isera Bernstein, the ‘girl crush’ queen!

Moreover, with my mana overflowing, my unique solid yet heavy blue magic… it must have been a truly formidable sight.

Mana Overflux is the secret technique of warriors like me, where one’s mana heart is driven to rampage, and blood vessels are temporarily expanded, dramatically increasing physical abilities and aesthetic appeal.

If Ras had seen this tragically beautiful sight in the forest that day?

I guarantee, he would have abandoned Rosalie, Pisces, Irha… all those dazzling beauties, and rushed into my arms, calling out “Teacher-nim!”, such was the line and the force of my presence.

For 32 years, I never properly held a man’s hand; my life was nothing but constantly grabbing collars and throwing people around.

Fighting, martial arts, training, battlefields… if there was a woman of iron and blood, wouldn’t it be Isera Bernstein?

Because my life was stained with blood, sweat, and combat, I actually hoped love would come to me fatefully.

Being drawn to Ras… At first, I thought it was rather unsightly for an old professor to be drawn to a young student, but after all, fate is something you can’t help.

*swoosh-*

While I briefly thought of Ras, the ‘me’ in my memory had already exchanged twenty blows with Deurosa.

When that damned demoness left a stab wound on my beautiful, firm abdomen, I smashed her jaw with my elbow.

Of course, demons are as tough as steel cables, and Deurosa had already reinforced her body with mana, so she merely flinched for a moment before quickly regaining her composure and continuing the offense and defense.

Once again, this time, a quite long and arduous battle continued.

My body quickly bore several non-trivial stab wounds, but I stubbornly pushed forward like a tank, landing as many effective blows as possible.

My precious gloves, imprinted with the Mark of the Iron Horse, and my punching power, enhanced several times over, landed blows on Deurosa, breaking and re-setting her bones multiple times.

However, even with the demon’s excellent regeneration, if she kept getting hit, she wouldn’t be able to maintain it.

After that brief exchange, both of us were quite exhausted, breathing heavily as we faced each other.

“Haa… haa…”

“Ugh… why are you so persistent…!”

The one who spoke irritably seemed to have focused all her attention on defense, intending to fight defensively.

With her skill, she would have noticed that I had forcibly overfluxed my mana.

So she must have thought that if she just dragged out the fight with a focus on defense and evasion, I would self-destruct…

But that was her misjudgment.

I, Isera Bernstein, had sparred to exhaustion for a very long time at the Academy with opponents above my rank… especially those whose strength, stamina, and defense were even better than demons’.

Rosalie Berhart.

My good colleague, and the greatest rival to my love.

To be honest, I’ve never actually beaten Rosalie.

Of course, from my keen observation, Rosalie had hit a kind of growth wall, and since I was steadily growing, I would catch up to her soon enough.

‘Hehe~ Isera…! Wouldn’t it be better to improve your raw strength a bit more? You’re fast, but what if your arm gets caught and broken like this??’

‘Grrrah..! You cowardly divine power user…! If it weren’t for divine power…!’

‘Nah~ Even without divine power, I always win in raw strength~’

The sight of a pitifully wailing Isera Bernstein and the annoying Rosalie briefly appears, but let’s set it aside as it has no bearing on the current cool playback.

Anyway, Deurosa, who had engaged in an endurance battle in the ceaseless fight, seemed to have belatedly sensed that something was wrong.

Rosalie was an extremely annoying and detestable bully, but at the same time, she was a healer good enough to be called the best of her era.

That’s why I could continue to increase the duration and stability of my Mana Overflux, setting aside any worries about breaking a bone or becoming crippled.

Roughly by eye, someone seeing me for the first time might think, ‘If I just endure for about 10 minutes, I’ll win.’ But I can last up to 30 minutes in this state without Rosalie’s help.

Therefore, Overflux is my, Isera Bernstein’s, trump card, designed to draw out an opponent’s carelessness and misjudgment.

I once again took the initiative and went on the offensive.

I met her swinging kukri and the rough, heavy mana she emitted with my two gloved hands.

The precious gloves Ras had given me were gradually tearing and getting destroyed, but very cleverly and usefully, their most crucial function, the Mark of the Iron Horse, remained intact.

The trajectory of the kukri, which would stab, be blocked, then swing horizontally.

And a black-purple mana, flickering like a snake, not aligning with the blade’s trajectory, targeted me.

A competition of feints and lethal blows, extending stubbornly yet flexibly, and extremely swiftly, like a two-headed cobra.

However, I maintained a state of high concentration, dodging all lethal blows and getting close to her.

When dealing with assassins, it’s always right to keep luring them into a direct confrontation.

My powerfully extended fist once again aimed for her abdomen.

Good, good job! Me in my memory!

But Deurosa was also a strong opponent, not lacking as an excellent match for me.

“Where do you think you’re going…!”

As soon as she saw my fist coming for her abdomen again, she leaped at me instead, ramming me with her shoulder.

There was a *thud* sound… and from what I remember, that hurt quite a bit, but Isera Bernstein is not a woman who gets pushed around in a brawl.

Standing firm with the majestic momentum of a mountain, I immediately spun around as if shedding power, concentrating mana in my back, then counterattacked by striking Deurosa with my back.

Bernstein-style Practical Martial Arts, Iron Mountain Push (鐵山靠).

“Gah…!!!”

My body, rigorously trained and solidly reinforced with mana, was a formidable weapon all over.

Deurosa, who had redirected her mana to attack and created a brief defensive delay, took significant damage and was sent flying.

“Ugh… you dirty trickster…!”

It’s only natural to unleash a flurry of blows on a foul-mouthed demon.

I immediately caught up to her using lightfoot technique, which I always diligently practiced.

Bernstein-style Practical Martial Arts, Thousand-Li Step (天里一步).

As if walking a thousand li in a single stride… I had surged right up to the flying demon’s nose.

And just as I had expected, she exhibited the exact characteristics of a dirty assassin, performing ‘feigning weakness while throwing hidden weapons’.

Several purple shurikens, imbued with incredibly strong penetrating mana, sprang out from under her cloak and flew towards me.

It must have been some kind of homing attack, where she pulled out mana threads from her fingertips, tied them to the shurikens, and then attacked.

When fighting demon tricksters who threw hidden weapons, many used this kind of long-range weapon control, so I concentrated mana in my eyes and searched for the mana threads.

The moment I twisted my head to dodge, a fine yet sharp mana blade suddenly grew from the thread as a surprise attack.

“…!!!”

It was a mana blade that grazed my eye area shallowly, and I dodged it by less than a hair’s breadth.

My left eyelid was sliced, and blood burst out with a *gush*, but it was fine.

Isera Bernstein, hardened by the battlefield, paid no mind to her blood-red vision.

She also ignored the shurikens that continued to embed themselves after she gave up a slight portion of her vision.

She avoided only the most fatal vital points, and intentionally took hits on slightly less critical parts of her vitals.

*crunch-*!

I remembered the demon’s uniquely unpleasant magic and the assassin’s poison seeping into me like a deadly potion, making my mind and body grow distant.

But at that moment, I was determined to strike the bone, even if it meant taking a deep cut to the flesh…!

I am only now replaying that fleeting moment that followed.

The moment of do-or-die is when you can inflict a fatal blow on your opponent, and it is also the moment you must wager your life.

What did I think of at that moment, a gamble with my life on the line?

Ras Etgard.

I fleetingly recalled his sun-like smile for just a moment.

I want to live.

To live, to meet him… not with a light, playful emotion, but with something a little more serious and shy…

It was perhaps because I held such a fervent wish that what turned the tide in that desperate moment was a technique Ras used.

Ras Etgard Style, Butterfly Afterimage.

The footwork Ras used in his final clash during his duel with Garett.

A technique as elegant as a butterfly landing on a flower and then flying away, yet fast enough to leave an afterimage.

That adorable student, who chattered away and explained it to me with a beaming smile when I subtly asked him after their duel, and even my own appearance at that time, replaying it now, were ironically lovable.

Unfittingly for this dark and terrible battlefield.

Carrying such a tragic yet fresh, incongruous scent, I, at that moment, left an afterimage and got behind Deurosa.

“Kuh..! Still doing this!”

And as afterimages often do, the butterfly’s wing fluttered twice, allowing me to penetrate Deurosa’s side and strike the area where her liver was located.

The surprise liver blow made Deurosa freeze as if time had momentarily stopped.

Having seized the opportunity to unleash a barrage, Isera Bernstein, a woman of fiery passion, merely delivered a merciless beating.

Bernstein-style Practical Martial Arts, Black Wolf Flurry (黑狼聯武).

Fists and feet, honed for years in the freezing lands ruled by the Northern Archduke on the Azuldar front, tore and ripped into Deurosa like a pack of black wolves.

“Augh…!! Aaargh…!!”

The demon, getting hit by a flurry of blows so intense she couldn’t breathe, eventually let out an unsightly, weak scream.

This time, I extended my Chin Na.

A grappling technique similar to joint locks, passed down by a comrade on the battlefield who used to boast about having visited the Eastern Continent.

With my left hand, I crushed her collarbone by pressing down on it, simultaneously tearing it away.

At the same time, with my right hand, I struck Deurosa’s jaw, then shoved my hand into her gaping mouth and just…

That’s how the high-ranking demon Deurosa met her end, with most of her upper body torn apart.

“Haa… haa… This is killing me… But I can’t die yet. Ras, I absolutely cannot die before I confess. Hmph… I’ve become quite a crazy woman. Or rather, perhaps the emotion of love is inherently terrifying…?”

Even her appearance, gasping for breath and collapsing to the ground like that, was somehow wild and incredibly attractive.

Good.

With that level of charm, I, too, am sufficiently competitive.

With my heart filled with utter satisfaction, I finished replaying the fierce, bloody battle.

As expected, Professor Isera Bernstein is the best…!

*

“Hehehe… hehehe… Isera Bernstein is smiling…”

“…????”

Watching Isera, who had been standing with her eyes closed for a moment, suddenly muttering bizarrely with a somewhat lecherous, narcissistic smile, the students were enveloped in doubt and a faint sense of dread.

However, even her lecherous appearance was quite plausibly beautiful, so it was by no means an unpleasant sight.

Isera’s mental replay in her inner world was long, but her thoughts were slightly detached from physical time, so not much actual time had passed.

This kind of mental replay is only possible for those who have entered a state of mental imagery or are on the verge of it.

In other words, Isera, who had gradually grown stronger, had developed to the point where she was on the cusp of mental imagery.

Ironically, in Ras’s life before his regression, Isera never entered the state of mental imagery until her death.

She was an excellent martial artist, but she lacked some psychological elements necessary to enter the state of mental imagery.

The first step to mental imagery usually begins with ‘vividly and meticulously drawing out the hidden true inner image based on intense emotional states.’

I want to be strong.

Although it was what she had longed for her entire life, the power granted by her motivation was too weak to manifest mental imagery.

Because her accumulated martial prowess was immense, she had raised her level almost to the very brink of mental imagery, but ultimately, she lacked that subtle final touch and ended up losing and dying in her last battle.

However, in this life, having returned, she quite coincidentally blossomed a trivial but precious flower of emotion… And this feeling, small and insignificant like a wildflower, was rapidly making her stronger.

As she had said, love was the way to make a woman—no, a person—strong.

“Hehe… Suddenly, I miss my little Ras. He must have woken up well-rested by now…”

Her voice was a bit loud, so the students ended up hearing all of this embarrassing endearment.

One particularly curious female student bravely raised her hand and asked,

“Professor-nim..! If I may be so bold, why do you keep saying ‘my little Ras’? I’ve been curious about it for a while now…!”

Taking the question from the bright-eyed female student, Isera uncharacteristically fell into a moment of contemplation.

‘Hmm… I guess we’re something like… lovers? We often eat together, trained together a few times, and most importantly, I even received these gloves! Hmph… but a woman who’s too forward is just a burden.’

Having rationally sorted out her thoughts, Isera returned to her usual charismatic professor self.

“He is my direct disciple. I discovered his talent and intend to raise him as Isera Bernstein Jr.”

The students, hearing Isera’s solemn and magnificent declaration, gasped faintly and envied Ras.

The female student who had asked the question, as if she were a fan of Professor Isera, was actually clamoring to be made a direct disciple herself.

“Ahhh…!!! Wow!! Ras is so lucky. Professor-nim! Please make me one too. Like ‘my little Flora’! Pleeease~!!”

“Me too! Why is only Ras ‘my little Ras’! I’m even shorter than Ras, Professor-nim!”

As expected, several students, including Aylin, who usually admired Professor Isera, joined in the mood and requested to be called ‘my little XXX’.

‘No way. I don’t even call our cute Irha “my little Irha”!’

But naturally, Isera had no intention of bestowing her glorious endearment on anyone other than Ras.

Having sorted out her thoughts, Isera came up with a clever solution that would address the students’ demands and, at the same time, nip any future favoritism controversies in the bud.

“To anyone who defeats Ras in a one-on-one match, I shall personally bestow the title of direct disciple.”

“Ah…!”

A move that even Isera herself thought was quite brilliant.

First-years at Leone couldn’t possibly defeat Ras.

In her view, the first-year rankings were about to change soon anyway.

‘Hehe… As expected of me, once called the “schemer of the North” in my youth. Isera Bernstein Jr…. Yes, raising one wouldn’t be bad. Ras Etgard Jr. would also be fine…’

Isera, gazing calmly at the students who had become quiet as if struck dumb, continued to ponder about ‘Juniors’ like the passionate woman she was.

It was a sight that Isera Bernstein herself found utterly delightful.