Episode 22
Chapter 6. Night Training
“…So Ray Granble will compete in both the swordsmanship and overall categories for our class in the upcoming class competition. For the aura category, we’ll take volunteers. That’s all.”
Professor Totten ended the lecture with that announcement. The quiet classroom suddenly became noisy.
“Ray Granble… isn’t he from one of the Eight Great Houses?”
“Didn’t his family get wiped out by the Poison King clan?”
“That blond guy in the middle?”
“Well, good for us. I didn’t want to be the first one competing anyway…”
It wasn’t super loud.
Actually, the ones whispering were at least reacting. More than half the class just stayed silent and prepared for the next class.
Hey, guys?
Did no one hear that I’m joining two events by myself? Isn’t that weird or unfair?
Seriously, what’s wrong with this class?
Why is everyone so unmotivated? Did they really give up just because they didn’t make it into Class A?
About 10 seconds after the professor left—
“This is ridiculous!”
Finally, someone stood up and shouted.
“Why does he get to be our representative? For two events?!”
It was the brown-haired, black-eyed guy two seats away from me. The same guy who’d been glaring at me since day one.
“Just because of his family? Granble? That clan’s ruined anyway!”
Hmm, he’s coming in hard.
But I can take this. It’s rude, but not untrue.
“Why didn’t you just die like the rest? Why are you still here getting in our way? If you were going to disappear, you should’ve stayed gone! Why are you blocking our Craven family from rising up?!”
…Okay, that I can’t let go.
“…So, are you saying I should have died?”
“Yeah.”
…Yeah?
“Why didn’t you die? Why didn’t you vanish quietly? If you had, our Craven family could’ve taken the Granble family’s spot in the Eight Great Houses. But no, here you are, in that pathetic state, embarrassing yourself at the Academy. Or wait—did you dress like that on purpose to get the professor’s pity and be picked?”
“…”
I couldn’t speak for a moment.
I didn’t think he’d go that far. Also… I really need to get a new uniform once I get some money.
Anyway… I understood what was going on now.
He’s saying his family missed their chance to become one of the main houses because I survived. If I had died, Granble would’ve disappeared, and a spot would’ve opened.
Unbelievable.
More than angry, I was just shocked. Who says stuff like this out loud? Is he immature… or just crazy with greed?
Either way, I’m glad I lived.
Imagine a lunatic like him becoming part of the Eight Great Houses. Gives me chills. He must’ve been holding this in for a long time. That can’t have been easy.
“What’s your name again?”
I asked as I grabbed the wooden pen hidden in my sleeve.
It doesn’t look dangerous—but once connected to my body, it becomes sharp enough to pierce armor.
People should take responsibility for their words.
He must know what it means to insult a noble house in public.
You deserve to be punished.
Not killed, of course… but maybe a broken finger wouldn’t be too much?
“I’m Giel Craven! Next in line to lead the Craven house, one of the Ten Sword King branch families!”
He pointed at me with his chin raised.
His finger, huh?
Maybe I’ll just take one finger as payment. Not quite enough for what he said, but still…
“And you—Ray Granble of the ruined Granble house—”
“…”
“I, Giel Craven, challenge you to a Sword King Succession Duel!”
…What?
If he hadn’t said that, he’d be living the rest of his life with nine fingers.
Lucky him. I slowly put the pen back into my sleeve.
Sword King Succession Duel?
Wait… what is that again?
“Ugh… so tiring…”
Outside the dorm, Phil collapsed on the ground, panting hard.
“I’m dying here… So what was it? A Sword King Duel? What’s that?”
“I don’t know the details. My older brother was the heir, so I only heard the name.”
“Still, it sounds important, right?”
“Maybe?”
All I know is that heirs duel to decide the inheritance ranking. That’s about it.
Thanks to that, Giel got to keep all his fingers—for now.
I’ll get a real chance to deal with him later.
“Phew… Your class is a mess too, huh? I thought only ours was like that.”
“What’s C-Class like?”
“Didn’t I just tell you?”
“A mess?”
“A total disaster.”
Phil picked up his wooden sword and shook his head.
“Everyone’s crazy. They’ll do anything to get the professor’s attention.”
“Because of the class competition?”
“Today, like ten people were punching each other and bleeding in front of the professor. He was sweating trying to stop it.”
“At least they’re lively. My class is too quiet. That’s the real problem.”
“What? Didn’t you just get challenged to a duel?”
“That was just one guy. Everyone else was totally silent. No one even reacted when I got picked for two events. It’s so quiet it feels like a library. No one has any motivation. Anyway, shouldn’t you be heading back to your dorm?”
“Me?”
Phil glanced at the sky and frowned.
“Oh yeah. It’s already evening.”
“If you’re too late, won’t you be locked out?”
“Probably… but whatever. Tomorrow’s a holiday anyway. That stupid dorm can burn for all I care. I like it here better.”
“Why? I heard Black Luna is the best dorm.”
“The bullying there is insane.”
Phil stood up and sighed.
“They act like they’re gods. Especially the A-Class guys. They don’t treat me like a person. Even a dead worm on the ground probably gets more sympathy than I do.”
“What about B-Class?”
“Your class? Hm… I think three of them came, but…”
Phil thought for a bit, then shook his head.
“I don’t know. The B-Class kids are all weird. One of them walks around hugging a blue stuffed toy.”
“Oh, I think I know who that is.”
“Forget it. I don’t want to know. Anyway, B-Class leaves me alone, so I’m grateful for that.”
“What about C-Class? Aren’t there others in Black Luna with you?”
“There are. But I’m the only one who’s an orphan.”
“Huh?”
“It’s total crap. Spit.”
Phil glared at the ground, grinding his teeth.
“They’re all acting high and mighty, but we’re all adopted! I’m the only orphan, though? What a joke. Do they think they can hide it forever?”
“You mean they’re pretending they weren’t raised in an orphanage?”
“Exactly. At least half of them, I’d bet.”
“That’s…”
“Stupid, right? What do you think?”
Phil snorted. I answered honestly.
“I’m not sure. But… I think I kind of get it.”
“Not sure, but you get it?”
“I had a similar thought once.”
Hiding your origins…
It’s a bit different, but I also wished the Granble name would quietly disappear sometimes.
“Anyway, not important. Let’s stop resting and start training again.”
“Ugh… the same one again?”
“Yes, again. You need to get used to the basic sword moves. I’ll mix things up like earlier—block as best you can.”
“That was tough…”
Still, Phil got into position right away.
“Guess I don’t have a choice. You said this is Sword Level 2, right?”
“Yeah.”
The official name is ‘Refined Sword.’ It means using basic techniques fluently in real situations.
“I only memorized Level 1 moves yesterday, and now I’m on Level 2? Really?”
“Really. You’re already at Level 2.”
“But I didn’t learn anything new.”
“Using what you learned in different ways is Level 2. You’ve got good instincts—you’ll master it fast. Probably in a few months.”
“Really? You’re not just flattering me?”
I shook my head.
Never.
Swordsmanship is the only talent I truly have. I take it seriously. Phil’s talent was pretty decent, too.
“I’ll start. Block as best you can.”
“…Stop.”
“Stop.”
“Again.”
“Not like that.”
“Again. Use a diagonal deflection, not a flat block.”
“Don’t stretch your arms—pull them in close.”
“Good. Now rotate your body while keeping the sword near you.”
“Tuck your chin.”
“Chin.”
“Chin.”
“…Phil?”
“Can you help me tuck my chin?”
“Why do you always stick your chin out when you block? In real battle, you’d lose your jaw first.”
“Your elbows are too wide. Again.”
“Again.”
“Nope. Again.”
“Again.”
After 20 minutes…
“Enough!”
Phil collapsed on the ground, throwing down his sword.
“Hahh! Huff! I’m dying! What kind of noble trains people this hard? Are you sure you’re from a noble family?”
“I went easy on you.”
“What?!”
“It’s better to fix bad habits early. They’re harder to change later.”
“What’s worse than this?”
“If you fix it now, it takes a day.”
I showed him a clean demonstration.
“This is an attack.”
“…”
“This is defense.”
“Oh, it looks smooth even alone.”
“See the difference?”
“What difference?”
“Watch again.”
I repeated the same movements.
Again.
And again.
“…Oh my god.”
By the fourth time, Phil reacted.
“Wait. That was exactly the same each time. How can you do that?”
“Because it’s the basics. Knowing the basics gives meaning to variations. So we keep repeating until it’s perfect. It takes years to fix bad form later.”
This is the Granble style.
I trained the same way as a kid. Phil finally stood up and got into position again.
After more practice—
“Whew…”
I stepped back to catch my breath.
“Nice job. You’ve definitely improved.”
“Huff… really?”
“Really. Do you feel it?”
“Uh… a little?”
“Good. Then rest 5 minutes, and we’ll keep going. You need to keep at it while it’s fresh.”
“No way. 10 minutes.”
“Okay. 10.”
“Whew…”
Phil wiped the sweat from his face and shook his head.
“Ugh, this is hard. Swordsmanship and aura are totally different. I didn’t know it was this tough. With aura, you just activate it and you’re done. What’s next after this?”
“Newborn Sword.”
“That’s the name of Sword Level 3?”
“Yeah. It means breaking the old form and being reborn into something new. You start training to transcend basic moves and—”
“Stop. That’s enough.”
Phil twisted his body like he was physically rejecting the explanation.
