Chapter 47
“What, what the hell?!”
“Why did the wind just blow all of a sudden? What’s happening?”
“…They are fighting with wooden swords, right?”
“They said we couldn’t use internal energy or sword aura. How is that even possible?”
Most of the cadets muttered in disbelief as they stared at the one-on-one duel between Ruin and Seron.
Yet, among them were some who kept a serious, heavy gaze fixed on the fight.
Clench—
Selena tightly balled her fists, burning with competitive spirit.
“Haa, I must be crazy. I’ve gone mad.”
Meirin sighed deeply and smacked her own head.
“…Interesting.”
Andrei, wearing a cryptic smile, nodded to himself.
Each reacted differently while watching Ruin and Seron’s duel.
Just then—
“So, who won?”
At that question, all eyes shifted back to the training ground, still clouded in dust.
At that moment—
Crack! Snap!
The sound of something breaking rang out, and the scene at the center of the arena became clear.
Both fighters still stood tall.
But their expressions couldn’t have been more different.
“…Your sword broke?”
Ruin smiled lightly as he asked.
“Yes, it broke.”
Seron looked down at his shattered wooden sword with a hollow expression.
Seeing that, one of the cadets muttered quietly.
“Wait, then… is it a draw?”
“They each broke a sword once, so maybe it is?”
Some thought it ended in a tie, but—
Clatter—
Seron suddenly dropped his broken sword.
“…I lost this match. Ruin Reingrime.”
He admitted defeat in a calm but resolute tone.
“The fact that you broke my Completed Sword Form with nothing but the Basic Sword Style… means my sword is still unfinished.”
The secret technique of the Basic Sword Style’s seven forms—Iron-Blood Slash.
The secret technique of the Completed Sword Form—Meteor Flash.
Normally, if a basic technique clashed with a completed one, the victor would always be the latter.
But in this duel, the one who triumphed was Ruin, who had only used the Basic Sword Style.
So Seron acknowledged his loss cleanly.
Step, step.
Having said all he needed to, Seron turned and walked off the training ground.
“…”
Ruin silently watched his retreating back.
[Hah, he cut down an incomplete ascension with a sword completed in a fleeting moment? Truly, the talent of a millennium…]
The Sword Spirit beside him muttered in awe, but Ruin gave no reply.
Soon after—
“Hah. A guy who crushed an intermediate form with the basics alone… nothing more needs to be said. Winner: Ruin.”
With Instructor Harken’s final declaration, the duel ended.
“…Urgh.”
Thud—
Once out of sight, away from the crowd, Seron dropped to one knee.
His whole body screamed in unbearable pain, as if it were about to fall apart.
“Hnnngh!”
He bit down on his lip, stifling the scream trying to escape.
To Seron, showing weakness like that was unacceptable.
Instead—
Crack—
“Ruin Reingrime!”
He shouted the name of the one who had caused this humiliation.
He wanted to curse him, to spit venom. But—
“Damn it, damn it all! Seron, you stupid bastard!”
The words that left his lips were curses not at Ruin, but at himself.
‘Idiot. You lost because you’re weak. Who else could you possibly blame?’
He always had to stand at the very top, the strongest, the best.
That was his worth—his very reason to exist.
Tch. Pathetic fool.
‘…?!’
Suddenly, Seron’s mind flashed with the worst possible scene.
His father, Oswell, looking down at him with eyes full of disappointment and contempt.
Seron trembled without realizing it.
So you’re no different from Walter.
“No! I’m not like that!”
His future and someone else’s past overlapped for a moment.
“No, I can’t—never that!”
Shaking his head violently, he forced strength back into his legs.
‘I am Seron Reingrime.’
He repeated his name.
‘I am the one who will one day become the strongest swordsman of Reingrime.’
That was why—
He could never show weakness. Not to anyone.
Crack—
“Urghhh!”
Clutching the wall, he pushed himself upright again, teeth clenched, eyes blazing.
“Never again…!”
But just then—
Tch. Knew this would happen. Up you go!
Thud!
“…You are?”
“Your instructor, you insolent brat.”
Instructor Arnold appeared with a sly grin, supporting him.
“Let go.”
“Forget it. Shut your mouth and let’s get you to the infirmary.”
“I said let go.”
“Damn it, kid, cut the stubborn act. You don’t remember what I told you before?”
For once, Arnold actually raised his voice in frustration.
“…”
Seron lowered his head without another word.
Arnold sighed, dragging him toward the infirmary, and muttered quietly.
“Don’t forget, Seron. The true victor… is the one who smiles at the end.”
Grip—
Seron clenched his fists and bit down hard on his lip at those words of encouragement.
Two consecutive victories.
And this time, against Seron, one of the strongest candidates of their entire year.
The way the cadets looked at Ruin changed drastically.
Before, they thought of him as nothing more than a freak, a training maniac.
“Does this mean we’ve found our year’s strongest?”
“Not for sure. Selena’s still left. And Meirin.”
“But didn’t they also lose to Seron before?”
“Well, yeah, but still…”
Though some tried to argue, few could truly deny that Ruin was now at the top.
“So he’s the strongest of our age group now?”
“At least within Reingrime, yeah. Across the whole continent? Who knows.”
But while most accepted it—
“Hoo…”
A beautiful girl with aqua-blue hair took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Then—
Clap!
Gripping her wooden sword, Selena Marquess opened them again, gaze sharp.
“…”
Her eyes locked on Ruin, who was resting.
‘The strongest of our age?’
She had never liked him.
From the very start, he had been there before her, outshining her in tests, in training—always one step ahead.
And now—
‘He defeated Seron.’
Though she disliked him, she couldn’t deny the truth.
Until now, Seron had been the only other name compared to hers as a rival in talent and potential.
Yet now—
‘That face of his… I’ve never seen Seron look like that.’
Seron, full of pride and arrogance, had admitted his defeat to Ruin without hesitation.
Which meant even Seron recognized the massive gap between them.
‘I can admit he’s strong. But…’
Selena clenched her jaw.
‘There’s no way I’ll admit he’s the strongest.’
She knew better than anyone why she had come this far, why she worked so hard.
The top seat, the title of strongest—she could never hand those to someone else.
‘I’ll take both—valedictorian and strongest.’
Only that position could prove her true worth.
With a solemn, determined expression, Selena stepped forward.
The cadets immediately noticed.
“Oh? Selena’s moving.”
“Huh, so she’s next?”
“So after Seron, now Selena? Is this a gauntlet?”
Voices rose all around, but Selena ignored them.
‘Your next opponent is me, Ruin Reingrime.’
But just then—
“Selena.”
She turned at the familiar voice.
Behind her stood Meirin, golden hair glinting.
“…?”
“You haven’t even been called yet. Why are you moving out first? Wait your turn.”
“What?”
Meirin casually pointed toward where Instructor Harken stood.
“He hasn’t said anything yet.”
“…”
Selena turned to look.
Harken met her eyes and smirked.
“All right, I think that’s enough rest.”
He rose, ready to announce the next duel.
“Then Ruin’s next opponent will be—”
But Ruin’s voice cut in.
“Instructor.”
Harken tilted his head curiously.
“Hm? What is it?”
“May I choose my next opponent myself?”
“Choose?”
Harken’s eyes narrowed in intrigue.
“Yes. I heard that if one achieves three victories in a row, the rotation ends. This could be my final duel, so I’d like to select my opponent personally.”
Ruin spoke logically, calmly.
“Hmmm.”
Harken stroked his chin, glancing at the remaining candidates—Selena, Meirin, and Andrei.
Clearly, the one most fired up was Selena, her gaze practically burning holes into him.
Finally, Harken chuckled.
“Heh. Not a bad idea.”
He nodded, ignoring Selena’s shocked expression.
“Fine, Ruin. You may choose your third opponent.”
With that, all eyes turned to Ruin.
And without hesitation—
“My next opponent is…”
Ruin looked straight at someone and declared:
“Andrei Reingrime.”
