Academy’s Genius Swordmaster

Chapter 171: The Festival of Swords (14)

Ronan pulled the sword hilt. For a moment, the demon’s hand blurred. A harsh metallic sound shattered the dawn’s silence.

“This…!”

Ronan clenched his teeth as he confirmed his slash was blocked. The demon’s sword was much faster than anticipated. However, it seemed the demon was equally surprised. Ronan, steadying himself, swiftly swung his sword as if determined to finish the job.

Unfazed, Ronan countered without hesitation. Clang! The assailant’s attack, faster than anyone could perceive, clashed in mid-air. In the dimly lit grain warehouse, flames erupted one after another. The collision sound echoed, always a beat late and irregularly spreading.

They paused after about twenty exchanges. The blades, now locked in a fierce standoff, growled like territorial beasts. The demon, staring at Ronan, finally spoke.

“Fast.”

“You bastard, what did you do?”

Ronan retorted fiercely. In the demon’s hand, a sleek single-edged sword was gripped tightly. The sword had a long and gracefully curved design, perfect for swift slashes.

Seeing that the blade was undamaged after colliding with Lamacha, it was evidently a well-crafted sword. Waiting for a response that didn’t come, Ronan tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“I’m asking. What have you done?”

“…”

The tense balance began to crumble as the demon started exerting more force, but it couldn’t match Ronan’s strength. Stepping back, the demon muttered in admiration.

“…You have quite the skill. I don’t think you’re an accomplice to these bugs.”

“Accomplice?”

“Yeah. There seems to be a misunderstanding, so how about putting the sword away first.”

His tone was surprisingly calm, enough to surprise Ronan. With the anger that had clouded his vision now clearing, he focused on the guy’s face. Contrary to expectations, he was an ordinary-looking young man. Wet, disheveled hair had a slightly dull whiteness, and his eyes had a reddish-yellow tint.

‘Betrayer? No, it’s different.’

Ronan couldn’t sense any shimmering mana on him. Apart from the similarity in hair and eye color, the guy’s face didn’t resemble the robe-wearing man. Yet, a few perplexing features, difficult to notice in their apparent normality, confused Ronan. The lack of any discernible emotion in his expression and attitude was particularly notable.

His monotone voice added an eerie touch. In the slow blinking of eyes that showed no hint of emotion, Russell mentioned a past incident where the guy had apparently undergone a skin-changing process, and its side effects seemed evident.

Overall, he felt distinctly non-human. The demon lowered his sword slowly. Ronan, without letting down his guard, pointed the blade at the guy’s throat.

“Explain.”

“All the corpses lying around here were people who tried to kill me. They expected me to come here to eat raw meat and ambushed me at the same time.”

“What?”

“You can tell just by looking at outfits of these bugs. They were so unsure of winning with their swords that they brought all sorts of junk with them.”

The demon claimed to be the victim, asserting that killing them was an act of self-defense. He added that the torturous acts, such as wrist-cutting, were attempts to find out who was behind it.

Ronan surveyed the corpses, and indeed, all six of them were perfectly armed with armor and weapons. Prohibited scrolls and auxiliary weapons were also casually visible, indicating they had come prepared for a full-fledged confrontation.

“…Really?”

Every detail seemed to support the demon’s claim. It was a moment of brief bewilderment for Ronan. Suddenly, the demon, lowering his posture, swiftly moved backward.

“You son of a…!”

Ronan’s eyes widened. Unfamiliar mana, likely Aura, was coiling around the demon’s sword, gathering rapidly.

Instinctively sensing danger, Ronan swung his sword. Simultaneously, the crouched figure shot forward like an arrow. It was an unavoidable distance. Ronan, quickly assessing the situation, struck the assailant in a preemptive attack. As the two swords collided again, the mana coiled around the blade erupted in a blinding explosion. Boom! Ronan’s body was thrown, smashing through the warehouse wall.

“Ugh!”

If he hadn’t parried, it would have been a devastating blow, potentially tearing his limbs apart. In mid-air, Ronan drove his sword into the ground. Clang! A long blade mark engraved itself on the floor as his body came to a stop.

‘Fuck, I let my guard down.’

It was a clear oversight. Despite the intense pain in his back, there was no time to dwell on it. Ronan raised his head, taking in the scene of exploded bodies and a section of the warehouse wall blown away by the blast. As the wind carried away the smoke, the demon, standing still, emerged. With an impressed tone, he muttered.

“…Impressive.”

Droplets of blood fell beneath the demon’s feet. A long wound cut diagonally across his chest, a trace left by Lamacha just before the explosion. Ronan, observing a relatively shallow wound, spat out a curse. If it had gone a bit deeper, it could have pierced his heart.

“Unlucky.”

“You’re dangerous. Regardless of if you’re an accomplice or not, I have to kill you.”

The demon spoke. Ronan, spitting out the blood that had pooled in his mouth, got up. It seemed the demon had no intention of backing down. Slowly lifting his sword, the demon adjusted his stance. An ominous Aura, reminiscent of the one left by Lamacha, emanated as he focused.

‘He’s planning to end it in one go.’

Outside, it was still dark. Perhaps his sense of smell had adapted, as he no longer felt the scent of blood. Somewhere, the sound of a door being opened or closed by the wind echoed. The figures of the two vanished from view. It was the moment they closed the distance, intending to clash at the midpoint.

“That’s enough.”

“What the hell?!”

Ronan and the demon came to a simultaneous halt, almost stumbling due to the abrupt stop. As their gazes lowered, they noticed a blade, poised as if to touch, hovering near their throats. An elderly man, with a somewhat jagged appearance, held a sword in each hand, aiming at Ronan and the demon.

“You are…”

Ronan’s eyes widened. It was undoubtedly the old man, Allogin, whom he had seen in Gran Parzan. Navirose had introduced him as a former Sword Saint and one of the elders overseeing the Festival of Swords. Allogin, alternating his gaze between Ronan, the corpses, and the demon, spoke up.

“Explain, Nodrek. What mischief have you been up to again?”

“I was merely the target of an assassination attempt during my meal. I can provide enough evidence.”

“An attempted assassination… so, are you claiming that the 44th participant here is the assassin?”

“No. Only the corpses scattered around are the assassins. I thought this one was an accomplice so I needed to eliminate him.”

The demon said, pointing the tip of his sword at Ronan. It seemed like Nodrek was his real name.

“You said earlier that you thought I wasn’t an accomplice.”

“It was merely to catch you off guard. However, I am now confident that you’re not an accomplice. Your intentions differ from these trash.”

Nodrek’s gaze shifted towards the scattered corpses. It was almost laughable how absurdly inept they seemed. Wasn’t he the same individual he declared was dangerous and needed to be killed just moments ago? Allogin, with a wry smile, turned to Ronan.

“Do you have anything to say?”

Within the wrinkled eyelids, the still-shining pupils retained their brilliance. After a moment of contemplation, Ronan shook his head.

“…No.”

“So be it. For now, come with me. Regardless of the circumstances, the two of you need to be interrogated.”

Allogin turned and walked away. The demon followed suit, maintaining a respectful distance. Suddenly, Ronan realized that it wasn’t just Allogin who had arrived at that moment. Whether on the warehouse roof, around the alley corners, or behind the trees, several elderly figures, unseen until now, were strategically placed, seemingly observing them.

‘Elders.’

A chilling shiver crawled up Ronan’s spine. He hadn’t sensed their presence at all until they approached. Even in the midst of battle, their ability to remain unnoticed was remarkable.

Suddenly, Ronan’s gaze fell upon the severed head rolling on the ground. Russell, caught in the explosion, had lost the lower part of his face. In the end, despite being part of the mercenary group, he had met his demise at the hands of the demon.

He had warned him against such foolish actions. Ronan, his lips tightly pressed, gently closed Russell’s still vacant eyes.

“Stupid bastard.”

Riley’s lifeless body lay scattered in pieces, with no intact head to close the eyes on. Ronan, briefly mourning, followed Allogin.

The elders continued their watch until the two disappeared from their sight. Soon after, administrators who had rushed over began clearing away the corpses. When the participants, awakened by the commotion, arrived at the scene, the traces of the tragedy had vanished without a trace.

****

“You look tired. Did anything happen?”

“…No.”

Morning had arrived. In response to Lynn’s question, Ronan waved his hand. They were heading towards the location where the final test would take place.

Ronan had returned to base just in time for breakfast. Dealing with inquiries from the Parzan side took longer than expected.

As the events had unfolded so covertly, except for Ronan and Nodrek, other participants were unaware of what had transpired in the early morning. Ronan, who showed no resistance even when patted on his buttocks, responded with a gesture of exhaustion to Lynn’s questioning gaze.

“Hmm. Doesn’t seem like it.”

In conclusion, the demon, Nodrek, was recognized as acting in self-defense. The evidence that he was ambushed by other participants was too clear.

Through the investigation of the deceased, including Russell, it was revealed that all of them harbored intense grudges against Nodrek. Some had lost family members, others lost friends. Particularly for Reily, the female knight who had participated in the previous test with him, her lover had his wrist slashed by Nodrek in the first test.

However, their personal grievances were not taken into consideration. The reason was simple—Nodrek had never openly violated the rules or committed a crime since participating in the Festival of Swords.

The assassination attempt had ultimately failed, and those who had attempted it had become infamous criminals. It was a tragic outcome, but there was no sympathy, as their methods were far from righteous. It was just a miserable situation.

“Woah, this is the final gateway to the Holy Land…!”

“I’m thrilled.”

Those who had finally arrived at their destination marveled at the spectacle. The arena where the final test would be held was more beautiful than any building they had seen in Parzan. The oval-shaped arena adorned with white marble and jewels resembled a jewel box offered to the gods.

As they reached the arena, the participants split into their respective factions and lined up. The number of participants had visibly decreased due to the recent tragedy. Amidst the grumbling of participants wondering about the reduced numbers, a familiar old man appeared before them.

“I sincerely salute all of you for coming this far. As you already know, the final test will be a one-on-one duel between participants from Aran Parzan and Gran Parzan. I, Allogin, and Sword Saint Zaifa will oversee this sacred duel.”

The supervisor in charge was Elder Allogin. The severe demeanor he had shown the previous night had disappeared, and he appeared again as a benevolent old man. Standing next to him was the weary-looking Weartiger, who seemed to find the whole situation bothersome. Glancing over the participants, she muttered.

“I’m Zaifa.”

The participants erupted in cheers. Although her greeting was far from polite, most of the participants were in awe as if they had met a god from their revered religion. After all, the Sword Saint of the Empire was an idol for everyone who wielded a sword.

“Are you okay, Instructor?”

“Be quiet.”

Navirose glanced back, taking a deep breath, desperately suppressing her emotions. With blood vessels pulsating at her temples, it seemed she was enduring considerable heat. Allogin continued his explanation.

“The opponents for the duel will be randomly selected. Only the participant who obtained the priority nomination in the third test can designate their opponent. The one who incapacitates the opponent within the designated time wins.”

Due to a reduction in the number of participants from Aran Parzan, possibly due to the recent tragedy, Allogin added that four participants from Gran Parzan received a bye. The draw was promptly conducted, and Lynn, along with two others, ended up not having to fight and proceeded directly to the Holy Land. Lynn threw the winning lot at Ronan.

“Ta-da.”

“Worked out well.”

“See you later. Ask me again at the Holy Land; I’ll really think about it then.”

Ronan responded with a sly smile. Lynn lightly smacked his buttocks and ascended to the spectator seats. Soon, with the majestic sound of horns, the final test began. The first and second matches were determined in order of those who had obtained the right to choose.

“Now, participant number 1, Nodrek. Please choose your opponent.”

Allogin spoke. For a moment, a silence fell over the arena. Rumors about the demon had already spread widely among the participants. People either bowed their heads or avoided eye contact to steer clear of him.

‘He’ll probably choose me.’

Ronan calmly prepared himself to fight. He was half-certain that Nodrek would choose him, especially considering he had declared the intention to kill him earlier. Judging by his words, it was hard to imagine any other purpose for this test than legitimate homicide.

“I choose you.”

As expected, Nodrek’s response was swift. He stretched out his hand as soon as Allogin finished speaking. However, the person he chose was completely unexpected. Ronan frowned when he saw that Nordrek’s index finger was pointing directly at Navirose.

“…Huh?”

“Navirose. You’ll be my opponent.”

Nodrek spoke. His voice remained dry, but his tone was rough, as if he had transformed into someone else. Everyone in the arena was stunned. Even Zaifa perked her ears as if finding it intriguing. The bewildered murmurs quickly spread among the participants.

“Oh, my goodness.”

“Did he lose his mind? No matter how confident you are in your skills, that’s just…”

Despite being chosen, Navirose showed no particular reaction. Calmly ascending to the arena, she looked at Nodrek and opened her mouth.

“Do you know me?”

“Better than anyone else.”

“I don’t know you. There were rumors that you are a disciple of the Ferocious Sword Croden. Are you trying to settle the score with your master’s enemy?”

“Disciple.”

Nodrek grinned slyly. The horn announcing the battle roared to signal the beginning. In an instant, Nodrek’s figure disappeared from view. Ronan, who was watching, widened his eyes in surprise.

“Huh?”

For a moment, he missed the movement. It was a speed far beyond what it was when they fought earlier. Navirose swung her sword forward simultaneously with the collision. Quaaaang! An explosion occurred with a deafening sound, and her body was thrown into the air.

“Ugh…!”

The power of the explosion was significantly stronger. Navirose, balancing herself mid-air and landed on the ground. The rising smoke from the explosion obscured the view. She wiped her nosebleed with her sleeve and muttered softly.

“You were alive, Ferocious Sword.”