Chapter 22 - Night Outing.
"...So, for this class-to-class match, Ray Granvelle has been chosen for both the swordsmanship and mixed combat categories. For the remaining aura category, we will take volunteers. That is all."
Professor Totten finished his lecture with this announcement.
Thanks to it, the usually quiet classroom became noisy for the first time in a while.
"Ray Granvelle... isn't he from that Eight Great Houses?"
"The one whose family was ruined by that Poison King Cult attack…"
"That blonde guy sitting in the middle?"
"Good for him. Stepping up for the first class-to-class match is a bit…"
It wasn't a huge commotion.
The kids mumbling quietly were relatively better.
More than half just prepared for the next class without reacting.
Kids?
Did you not hear that I'm participating in two categories alone?
Shouldn't that feel a bit unfair?
I don't know.
What happened to this class, anyway?
Why is everyone so unmotivated?
Did they truly lose all will the moment they couldn't get into Class A, just like the professor said?
Then, about 10 seconds after the professor left the classroom.
"This is ridiculous!"
Finally, one guy jumped up from his seat.
"Why is he chosen as the class representative?! And for two categories?!"
It was the brown-haired, black-eyed guy sitting two seats over.
The same guy who had been glaring at me whenever he had a spare moment since the first day.
"No matter how much it's about family influence, this is too much. Granvelle? A ruined family anyway, what gives them the right?!"
Hmm, he's coming on stronger than I expected.
But I can tolerate this much.
Even if it's unpleasant, it's true.
"Why aren't you dead, still alive and blocking my way? If you were going to disappear, you should have all disappeared together. Why are you still alive, blocking our family's promotion?!"
But this, I couldn't let slide.
"So…"
Surely, he didn't mean it that way.
Believing so, I rose from my chair.
"Are you saying I should have died?"
"Yes."
Yes?
"Why didn't you die? Why didn't you just disappear cleanly? If only you had died, our Craven family could have entered the Eight Great Houses. If only you had died. You're a ruined family, why come to the academy in such a pathetic state and be humiliated? Ah, did you intentionally put on that look to gain the professor's sympathy? Is that why you were chosen as the class representative for the matches?"
"…"
For a moment, I was speechless.
To openly spout such outrageous words.
Anyway, I need to get a new uniform as soon as I get some money.
My head suddenly felt numb.
Anyway… Thanks to him, I understood the situation.
He was saying I blocked his family's chance to be promoted to a main house.
If only I had died, the Granvelle family would have naturally disappeared, creating an empty spot among the main houses.
My goodness.
That's… something.
It was shocking.
Surprise outweighed anger.
To openly say such things, no matter how much you covet something.
Is he immature?
Or just crazy with greed?
Whatever it was, I'm glad I'm alive.
The thought of such a deranged guy swaggering around as a person from the 8th great houses gives me chills.
He seems to have a lot of pent-up resentment; how hard must it have been for him to hold it in all this time?
"What was your name again?"
I gripped the pen body I had tucked into my sleeve as I asked.
It was an ordinary wooden pen body without a nib.
But the moment it connected to my body, it transformed into a weapon capable of piercing armor.
People must take responsibility for their actions.
He must know what it means to insult a family in public.
You deserve to die.
Of course, outright killing him would be a bit much… But perhaps cutting off or breaking something would be okay?
"I am Giel of the Craven family! The next successor of the Craven family, one of the 10 Minor Houses of the Sword King!"
He lifted his chin and pointed at me with his finger.
A finger, huh.
Should I just take one of those this time and let it go?
It feels a bit weak as a price for the insult, though…
"And you. Ray of the Granvelle family."
"…"
"I, Giel Craven, challenge you to a Sword King Succession Match!"
What?
If he hadn't said that, he would have lived his whole life with nine fingers.
He's a lucky guy.
I thought to myself as I put the half-drawn pen body back into my sleeve.
Sword King Succession Match?
So… what was that again?
***
"Ugh, cough. This training is tough…"
Phil, sitting slumped in front of the dormitory, gasped for breath and asked, "I'm dying… But what? Sword King Succession Match? What's that?"
"I don't know the details either. My brother was the one to inherit the family. So I just heard such a thing existed."
"Anyway, isn't it important?"
"Probably?"
A duel between those with succession rights, where one's succession rank rises or falls depending on the outcome.
That was all I knew about the Sword King Succession Match.
Thanks to that, Giel avoided the crisis of almost living his life with nine fingers.
After all, there would be an opportunity to properly punish him later.
"Phew… Anyway, your class is a mess too. I thought only ours was."
"What's the atmosphere like in Class C?"
"I just told you."
"A mess?"
"It's the worst kind of mess."
Phil picked up his dropped wooden sword and shook his head.
"Everyone's crazy. They're biting and tearing at each other, trying to get into the professor's good graces."
"Because of the class-to-class match?"
"Even today, nearly ten of them were punching and bleeding in front of the professor. The professor was sweating trying to break it up."
"That sounds lively and good. Our class is too quiet, that's the problem."
"What are you talking about? You just received a duel challenge, didn't you?"
"That was just him going at it alone. The other kids are completely quiet. I'm participating in two categories by myself, and there's no reaction. Break time is as quiet as a library. Everyone's unmotivated. But shouldn't you be heading back to your dorm soon?"
"Me?"
Phil quickly looked up at the sky, frowning.
"Right. It's already evening."
"You won't be able to get in if it's too late, right?"
"That's true, but… never mind. It's a holiday tomorrow anyway. Let that damn dorm just go to hell. This place is much better."
"Why? I heard Black Luna is the best dorm."
"The hazing there is terrible."
Phil got up, sighing.
"They think they're humans on top of the sky or something. Especially the Class A guys; they don't treat me like a person, whether I'm a peer or a senior. Wouldn't they look at a trampled earthworm more kindly?"
"What about Class B?"
"Your class? Hmm, I think three of them came there too…"
Phil thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"I don't know. All the Class B kids are strange, somehow. They all seem dazed. One guy carries around some kind of blue doll."
"Ah, I think I know who that is."
"Never mind. You don't need to know. Anyway, the Class B kids don't matter. I'm actually grateful they don't pay any attention to me."
"What about Class C? There are other kids from the orphanage who went to Black Luna besides you, right?"
"There are. But I'm the only one not hiding coming orphanage background."
"Huh?"
"It's a damn dog-eat-dog world, I tell you. Ptooey."
Phil glared at the ground and gnashed his teeth.
"They all act so high and mighty. They all came here as adopted children, but I'm the only one from an orphanage? That's hilarious. Do they really think they can hide it forever?"
"You mean they're hiding that they're from an orphanage?"
"Definitely. At least half of them."
"That's quite…"
"Isn't it pathetic? What do you think?"
Phil snorted as he asked.
I answered honestly, as I felt.
"I don't know. I feel like I might understand it, somehow."
"You don't know, but you feel like you understand?"
"I've had similar thoughts before."
Hiding one's origins.
The circumstances were different, but I, too, had once thought I wished I, and the Granvelle name, could just disappear without anyone knowing.
"It's not an important story. Anyway, let's stop resting and train again."
"Phew… Again, that just now?"
"That just now, again. You need to get used to basic sword offense and defense first. I'll mix things up and attack like before, so try to block accordingly."
"That was intense."
Phil grumbled but quickly got into his stance.
"As a student, you gotta do what you're told. But you said this is the 2-star stage of swordsmanship, right?"
"That's right."
Its official name is Practice Sword. It refers to the stage where one can perfectly master basic swordsmanship and use it appropriately in any situation.
"I just barely memorized the 1-star stage, Basic Sword, yesterday, and now we're going into 2-star? Is this right?"
"This is right. You're already at the 2-star level."
"But I haven't learned anything new?"
"Applying what you've learned is 2-star. You have good intuition, so you'll master 2-star quickly. It probably won't take a few months."
"Really? You're not just hyping me up to make me feel good, are you?"
I quietly shook my head.
No way.
Swordsmanship was my only innate talent and my mental solace.
So, when it came to swordsmanship, I had no intention of making empty remarks.
Phil's swordsmanship talent was actually quite good.
"I'll go first. Keep blocking."
"…Stop."
"Stop."
"Again."
"Enough."
"Again. Just now, you should have deflected diagonally, not blocked horizontally."
"Enough. When rotating, keep your arms close. Pull your elbow towards your body. Yes. There, curl your body as you turn, and don't extend the sword straight out, keep it close to your body."
"…Tuck your chin. Chin."
"Chin."
"Chin."
"…Phil?"
"Could you just tuck your chin a bit?"
"Why do you always stick your chin out when you block? In a real fight, your chin would be cut off first."
"Your elbow is too wide. Again."
"Again."
"No. Again."
"Again."
"Again."
About 20 minutes passed like that.
"Stop!"
Phil, just like 20 minutes ago, threw his wooden sword down and lay flat on the floor.
"Huff! Ugh! Blech! I'm dying! What kind of young master teaches so intensely? Are you really from a main family?!"
"This was going easy."
"What?!"
"It's good to be precise when establishing the initial stance. If bad habits keep repeating, you'll suffer more later."
"What more suffering could there be?"
"If you fix it now, you can fix it in a day."
I quickly demonstrated the basic forms of offense and defense.
"This is attack."
"…"
"This is defense."
"Oh, it looks plausible even when you do it alone?"
"How about it, do you see the difference?"
"What difference?"
"Look again."
I demonstrated the basic forms of offense and defense again.
Again.
And again.
"…My God."
After repeating it four times, Phil's reaction changed.
"What? They're exactly the same? How can you do them exactly the same?!"
"Because this is the basic. Only when you know the basic do changes have meaning. So you have to repeat it until you get it right. It takes a tremendous amount of time to fix later. It can take years, and even then, it doesn't get fixed well. So it's better to do it thoroughly the first time and then move on."
This was the Granvelle style.
I also started learning swordsmanship this way when I was young.
Only then did Phil get up and slowly begin to take his stance.
How many times did we repeat the offense and defense then?
"Phew…"
I regulated my breathing and stepped back.
"Good work. You're definitely better than before."
"Gasp, whew… Really?"
"Really. Are you getting the hang of it?"
"Uh… a little?"
"Then let's rest for 5 minutes and do it again. You have to keep going when you've got the feel for it."
"No. 10 minutes."
"Alright. 10 minutes."
"Phew…"
Phil wiped the sweat profusely flowing down his face and shook his head.
"Ugh, I'm tired. Swordsmanship and aura are completely different. I didn't know it had to be learned this hard. With aura, you just activate it… But what's next after this?"
"Newborn Sword."
"Newborn Sword is the name of the 3-star swordsmanship stage?"
"Yes. It's the stage where you go beyond the form of the Basic Sword and enter a new realm. As the name suggests, it's training to break existing forms to be reborn…"
"No, no. Stop."
Phil twisted his body, refusing the explanation with his whole being.