Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“The match is victory for the side that wins first two times.”

The director stated the rules.

A student introduced himself to me.

“5th of the 9th-year students. I’m Hamilton.”

“5th?”

I looked at the director.

I didn’t think so, does he have ill feelings toward me?

The memory of student days is hazy, but since I went to the middle, I would have been about 15th.

Bringing a skilled one within the top five of the same year was essentially no different from attaching a sparring saying lose.

“I hope there was something to learn.”

Who...?

Me? Or you?

Since the subject is missing, it’s a bit hard to distinguish if it’s arrogant or humble.

“Begin.”

Simultaneously with the signal, Hamilton took two steps.

The clean trajectory he made curved in aiming for my neck.

To evaluate, it’s a truly textbook-like sword.

Still closer to a diligent student rather than an excellent swordsman.

I received his sword, slid it between the guard and the blade, and twisted.

And lightly pushed the guy’s chest.

“...?”

Hamilton who stepped back checked his empty hand with a blank face.

His sword was caught on my sword and sliding down with a srrrng.

“Here.”

I caught and threw it before the guy’s sword fell.

And looking at the director, he opened his mouth one beat late.

“Student Ronan’s victory.”

The director looked at Hamilton and asked.

“Can you match right away?”

“...Yes.”

Hamilton looked dazed, but soon came to his senses and answered the director’s words.

“Then back to position.”

Hamilton loosened his body and stood in place.

And when he took a stance, the director’s signal fell.

“Begin.”

Hamilton swung the sword along the same path once more.

It seemed he wanted to see more clearly how it was done once more, so this time I showed it more clearly.

Received between the guard and the sword, hooked the end of the guard on the sword surface and twisted.

When the sound of leather sliding with a soft sound was heard, this time I kicked up the knee as is.

Hamilton’s hand bounced by the knee faced the sky, and his sword spun round and round and fell to the ground.

“...I lost.”

At first, he couldn’t prepare and let go of the sword as is, but the second time he prepared so he barely held on.

But at the moment he had to re-grip the sword, it was hitting with the knee and dropping the sword.

Sporadic applause sounds were heard.

Hamilton who quietly reviewed quietly admired and extended his hand to me.

“Senior, I’ll be in your care from now on. You’re a master of disarm.”

Although the same year and a student who would learn together, it was declaring that he would treat as senior respectfully from now on.

“With student Ronan’s second victory, the sparring is Ronan’s victory.”

I looked at the director.

Fortunately, no displeasure is visible, so it doesn’t seem he dislikes me.

However, he was looking down at me mixed with puzzlement, bewilderment, and questions.

***

The director was a bit flustered at the situation turning out beyond expectation.

‘Why did he win?’

If Ronan returns as a 9th year, he had to train together with juniors who entered the sword institute later than himself.

At this time, juniors might be careful or awkward because he’s a senior, and the senior might find it hard to bend pride in front of juniors.

If left like this, problems usually arise, so the sword institute had a kind of initiation process prepared to bundle returnees into one cohort.

The process was like this.

First, show the skill of the 9th-year 5th to plant humility in Ronan.

And ask the intention of re-challenge and make him spar in turn with the 10th, 15th, 20th, 25th students.

If he wins even once in between, he would be accepted as a 9th-year student, and if he loses even to the 25th, it would be seen as skill insufficient and the years would be cut.

A test that makes one realize that they are training students of similar skill, not senior and junior, and at the same time checks whether they have the skill to beat the current 9th-year trainees.

For this process to have meaning, Ronan had to lose once.

But how can he clean up the 9th-year 5th so simply?

Look even now.

Completely opposite to what was aimed, the 9th-year 5th Hamilton called Ronan ‘senior’ and bowed his head.

This is a situation that completely fades the meaning of preparing this sparring...

‘Call the top student?’

But the director knew.

Looking at that clean disarm technique just now, even if the top student, it wouldn’t be different.

It was awkward but unavoidable.

Just proceed as promised.

Finish like this now, and decide to look more carefully at how Ronan gets along.

“Good work. Ronan will train together with the 9th year and the remaining 3 months, and go up together as 10th year. Since the student left the sword institute around October, it’s learning about 1 month more, but you’ll understand this much?”

“Yes, Director.”

Seeing Ronan grinning as if satisfied, the mood strangely becomes murky.

Was student Ronan originally a kid like that?

It seems he was.

Originally he seemed to have a bit of troublemaker aura, but why in the few years not seen, that aura has matured for decades and returned is something unknowable.

It seems I’ll get my insides rotten a bit because of that guy from now on...

‘No, what with a student who will leave in 1 year anyway.’

Thinking that the sharp intuition malfunctioned only this time, as the director was about to stand up from his seat, the magic practitioner who had been quietly watching the sparring from the side quietly raised his hand.

He looked loose, but in an instant the sparring ground quieted and gazes gathered toward him.

“...”

Those who were about to stand and leave sat down again.

And everyone in the sparring ground waited for the director’s mouth to open.

“What is the matter, Equira.”

The magic practitioner grins.

“There’s something I’m curious about. I want to make them spar a bit more.”

Ah, there’s another one here.

The aura that brings accidents.

“...Please do so.”

The director sat down again.

If he doesn’t see what he’s trying to do and leave, it seemed the dream would be bad.

“Good. Is there a 10th year?”

“Here. 10th-year student Capian.”

“What rank?”

“13th.”

“Hmm, no top student?”

“I’ll bring him.”

“Yes, whatever he’s doing, just bring him. You can say I called.”

“Understood.”

Capian ran out.

A moment later, a man with a nervous impression entered.

However, there was no hostility in his eyes as he quietly went and stood in front of the magic practitioner.

“10th-year student Argen.”

“You’re the top, right?”

“Yes.”

“You spar with that one.”

“Understood.”

He seemed not to know the reason, but Argen obediently stood in the sparring ground.

“Ah, senior Ronan. Have you returned?”

“Yes. Long time no see.”

It wasn’t a big connection.

However, that guy was a fighting cock who challenged spars regardless of year, so I had clashed a few times.

I don’t think he was top, but it seems he managed to snatch the top before graduation.

“Do you know the face? If you go easy, it’s not fun.”

The magic practitioner grinned.

“I’ll give a prize to the winning side. Hmm, was it Ronan? For that one, something to give just comes to mind, but I don’t know what to give the top. Hmm, yes. If the top wins, I’ll give this sword.”

When the magic practitioner tapped the scabbard of the pure white sword at his waist, strength entered Argen’s eyes.

That looks a bit expensive.

The point that there was no time was regrettable.

I want to propose to lose and sell and divide the amount in half.

“Let’s end it in one match. No complaints?”

“Yes.”

“Now, begin!”

Argen immediately aimed for the head.

It was a movement as if hitting the head with strong force and passing by.

Since he put all his strength with a large stature, if belatedly putting the sword against there, it would be pressed down as is and hit the head.

It was sufficiently practical swordsmanship, but still a bit slow.

I accurately hit the falling tip of Argen’s sword and deeply extended the sword.

When Argen’s sword greatly missed and stamped the ground, my sword was touching the guy’s wrist.

Argen looked down at the sword that was lightly up on his wrist, then corrected his posture and cleanly acknowledged defeat.

“I lost.”

Then a murmur arose in the sparring ground.

10th-year top.

Essentially the person expected to be the strongest among all students.

Even such a person was won in a simple way no different from the sparring with the 9th year, so even though most were lower-year students, they began to feel something odd.

Pushing through such commotion, the magic practitioner who made that sparring happen opened his mouth smiling.

“Look at that. What kind of student is that. He uses the sword better than me. Hey, you said you returned. Where did you train for decades and come? Why do you use the sword so well?”

“I trained in my spare time.”

“Hahaha. What, a talent that wasn’t there suddenly bloomed or something? You can just graduate.”

And the magic practitioner talked about the promised prize to Ronan.

“You just leave. I’ll write the graduation certificate.”

The sword institute director pressed his forehead.

***

Is he serious?

He’s saying he’ll graduate me right here?

“Equira.”

“Why? Why does a kid like that have to rot for 1 more year in the sword institute. Don’t you see he lightly beat even the 10th-year top?”

The director closed his mouth.

“It’s skill that should do guidance sparring. If keeping in the sword institute, he should become a teacher, not a student.”

“There is no teacher who is not a magic practitioner in the sword institute.”

“So just graduate him.”

“Early graduation is an extremely rare precedent.”

“Well said. It means it’s not something that never happened? Then confirmed.”

The magic practitioner who said that looked at me and laughed.

“Hey, was it Ronan? You earned 1 year haha. Know that you’re lucky. I happened to directly supervise and judged correctly.”

“Thank you, Equira.”

“If you call like that, does it specify? It’s David. Call me Sir David.”

David Equira.

The youngest son of the Equira family.

There are really many epithets attached to him later.

The lazy genius of Equira, the arrogant fool of Equira, the surviving bloodline of the future Equira family head, the runaway Equira, the wandering sword of Equira, the demon hunter of Equira...

He survived even in the fierce succession structure and until I died, his name was heard not infrequently going around cutting demons.

‘I heard that even from Equira, every time they sent a magic practitioner, they returned with a disability, so from some point they let him go.’

It wasn’t the first meeting for me either.

There was no chance to get involved in student days, but in the later years, I was entangled together in a demon-related incident and saw the face from a distance.

I remember that even then it was a young face not much different from now.

Yes, if it’s the youngest son of Equira, he will be able to graduate the sword institute training.

Judging from that free-spirited personality, he will probably suppress all opposition and keep the promise.

But there was a problem.

I still have no intention of leaving the Equira family.

“Then Sir David. May I ask one more favor?”

“Yes?”

The sparring ground quieted.

Even the director who was persuading David as if troubled turned his head with a whoosh and was looking at me.

Opening his eyes wide and slowly shaking his head, the worry of an adult not to make a mistake is felt.

But you know.

I’m also an adult.

“Yes, let’s hear it once.”

David still maintained the smile, and was looking down at me with a loose feeling.

He seemed very curious what kind of request I would make.

“I want to enter as a direct disciple.”

David also seemed not to have imagined that request, and made an unexpected expression.

And part of the silence became a snort.

Wanting to become a direct disciple means wanting to become a magic practitioner.

Is that something that becomes just by wanting.

Even Equira bloodline is mercilessly discarded if not meeting the conditions.

There were those who frowned and clearly made an uncomfortable expression, and those who shone their eyes as if just interesting how the student’s mistake would be resolved.

And David opened his mouth.

“You use the sword well. Swordsmanship talent is sufficient.”

“Thank you.”

“But there’s one more thing to prove. You can show it, right?”

“Yes.”

“If you say that and don’t show it, it might be a bit disappointing. But if you show it, I’ll take responsibility and push you, pull you, dress you, feed you...”

I quietly raised magic power.

During the few days staying at Baron Fallos’s house before boarding the carriage, going back and forth the Spirit Vein Forest, I absorbed a tiny amount of magic power from the spring where magic power gathers, exactly enough to do this.

Only the Magic Root can hold magic power.

When I moved the magic power sleeping in the Magic Root, it rotated in place and raised a faint radiance.

Silence came.

Below the heart. In the highest position, a brilliant red light enough to attach the epithet of gold.

A Magic Root of the same appearance as the Emperor in the legends was emitting light from the body of a 9th-year student.

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