Chapter: 310
The road to hell is usually paved beautifully. That’s why those who don’t know their destination happily march toward it, and even those who do find solace in the path’s beauty, dragging their heavy steps along.
“Charles accepted the challenge, huh? Looks like he wants to go another round with me!”
“No, that’s not—”
As Rutis burst into a happy grin, Erich seemed to have something to say but promptly shut his mouth. No matter how you slice it, he doesn’t stand a chance of out-logic-ing this crazy value-system prince.
Instead, perhaps feeling sympathy toward Charles, who must have accepted the challenge with the mindset of drinking poison, Erich stared somewhat sadly at his textbook. It’s nice to see my little brother can feel for others.
‘Sorry, buddy.’
I also sent my condolences and apologies to Charles, who shouldn’t even be here. If Erich, just observing, feels this way, how much worse must it be for me, a participant? Charles must have felt a heavy influence from my recommendation when he accepted. I’m one of those paving the road to hell.
Sorry, but what can I say? When I first heard Rutis chose Charles as his target, I was aghast. Yet, when I think it over, there isn’t a better nominee.
‘It’s tough to find someone like that.’
A simple strong student is easy to find. Erich’s stronger than Charles, and even if you take him out, there would probably be five or six others around.
But to accurately gauge another’s skill while comprehensively assessing your own and engage in a harmless sparring match—that’s a realm beyond mere strength. That’s true artistic mastery. You need to be at least a veteran training instructor to even attempt it.
Thus, I wrote a recommendation letter for Charles, securing his success in exchange for the pain that comes with his abilities. All I can do for him is this.
“I wish Charles were from Ainter.”
That comment from Rutis, sounding wistful, made me shut my eyes for a moment. That cruel brat would have inevitably chased after him had Charles been Ainter’s noble. Thank goodness Charles is from the Empire.
*
When I heard the news that Rutis had selected his sparring partner, I wasn’t particularly interested. Poor Charles had become the royal sparring dummy, but that was as far as my concern went. Unlike Rutis, I had no intention of naming a sparring partner.
If I had thought I’d end up like Charles, I might have reconsidered.
“Teacher.”
“Oh, Louise.”
I found myself in the Principal’s Office at the summons of the chief teacher of the Magic Department. The chief teacher, who respects my mentor, has frequently called on me since the new term began, but this was my first time summoned to the office, not to the chief’s personal research lab.
And as soon as I spotted the mountain of papers piled high on the chief teacher’s desk, I understood the reason.
“I’m sorry to bother you while you’re busy. These are the students who have named you as their sparring partner for the upcoming practical exam.”
Looking at the towering stack of papers, my body instinctively stiffened.
‘Is this all? Is every single one of them naming me…?’
‘There’s too many.’
A chill ran down my spine; exaggeration aside, it felt like an entire class of second-year magic students—no, it’s not an exaggeration; it genuinely feels like that.
“There are many applicants, but there’s no need to worry. You just have to pick one out of them anyway since it’ll be a one-time sparring match.”
His words accidentally put my mind at ease. One-on-one sparring was the norm, but had it not been for that usual constraint, I might have faced endless duels with all second-year mages at once.
However, aside from the relief, I felt a heaviness in my heart. Why were all these mages choosing me as their sparring partner? Did I look like some tantalizing prey, or did they harbor some grudge? Either approach wasn’t the most pleasant situation.
‘I’ve lived a good life, you know…’
I never imagined I would become a public enemy in the blink of an eye. Did I really spend my life in vain until now?
“Don’t think too deeply about it. They consider it a life honor to spar with you.”
Having noticed my gloomy expression, the chief teacher smiled slightly and reassured me.
“Mages would jump into a fire just for the tiniest revelation. And here you are, the only disciple of Grand Duke Krasius, standing before them—there’s no way they’ll just let it slide.”
“Is that so?”
“When a mentor’s influence is potent, it inherently reflects on their disciple. Experiencing your magic firsthand would be immensely beneficial.”
He nearly spilled the beans that if he were still a student, he would have chosen me too, and only managed to nod in agreement.
Right. It’s not out of revenge or competitiveness; they genuinely want to experience my magic for themselves.
‘That’s even more dangerous.’
I shivered again, but now for a different reason. It’d be less daunting if they had some grudge—mages’ curiosity can be way more perilous.
During my time as a magic student, how many mages have I witnessed? They all appear normal on the outside, but once it’s about magic, their personalities shift dramatically, becoming overly serious and reckless. They say it’s crucial for mages to maintain their sanity at all times, yet…
‘Who should I pick?’
Thus, I became increasingly troubled. Which of those excited students should I choose to avoid future trouble?
Of course, they wouldn’t hold a grudge for not becoming a sparring partner, but the lack of ill will means they might act unpredictably. After all, fear stemming from the unknown is the most intense, isn’t it?
‘Ah.’
My turmoil ended swiftly.
“Charles Oléid—truly an exceptional knight. I signed up right away to face him this year too!”
Rutis’s words from the club room echoed in my mind. The tenacity of continuing the bond from last year’s duel had persisted this long.
Alright, I’ll do the same. If I have to pick someone, it’d better be someone I know. Sounds good.
*
This year’s practical exam ran just like the last year’s. With Villar and the other three countries’ forces scattered here and there for precaution, the Principal and I checked all the sparring arenas ourselves.
Moreover, since everyone was experienced, they moved smoothly without needing instructions. It was like they knew where would be great to have some bodies around. I felt pleasantly satisfied when we passed by a compact trio from the three countries, all working together seamlessly. Working with skilled people feels great.
Ultimately, after running around the duel areas with the Principal, we reached the spot where Rutis and Charles were dueling—
“Wow, impressive!”
“Yes, a truly remarkable student.”
I just witnessed a knight’s heart-wrenching struggle.
Rutis and Charles were locked in a fierce clash, but looking closely, Rutis’s attacks steadily landed on Charles while Charles focused his strikes along routes very easy to parry.
However, it wouldn’t be right to say Charles was getting completely dominated, as he also avoided any fatal blows. It felt more like the incidental wounds one naturally accumulates in battle.
‘What kind of lunatic is he?’
Even after witnessing it last year, it’s still astonishing this time around.
Sure, deliberately losing is simple. All you need to do is shove a limb into your opponent’s path, and it’s over. But then your opponent wouldn’t be oblivious.
But Charles managed to pull it off. He fought flawlessly enough to make it look effortless—engaging in gritty combat while neither he nor his opponent sustained serious injuries. It’s almost miraculous.
‘This should wrap up soon.’
One by one, noticeable wounds began to appear on Charles. His movements then picked up as if others would see him as struggling.
But in reality, Charles was preparing to go down at just the right moment after putting forth all he had. If one move succeeded, there’s a chance of survival; if not, that’s game over.
“Oh, how disappointing.”
“Yes, it was a razor-thin margin. Had he succeeded, they would have been back at it.”
As expected, the result was failure. Even the Principal let out a deep sigh, remarking on how close it was.
‘Top tier.’
And there I was, watching Charles fall while honestly smiling.
That smile must appear to others as a beautiful acceptance of the outcome.
‘…Should I get him into the royal training program?’
It’s a serious consideration. Powerful knights are easy to find, but finding one like Charles is rare. Serving as an instructor teaching martial arts to royals sounds like just the gig.
“Outstanding again! We’ll rely on you next time too!”
The dreadful proclamation from a red-haired guy on the dueling ground was surprisingly welcome just this once.
Having sparred with royals for three solid years at the academy grants one an impressive title. Sparring with royals means it wouldn’t be too hard to take on the imperial family as well.
I should discuss this with the Vice Captain later. Considering the vice captain would be looking for someone to educate their grandchildren.
*
Coincidentally, just as Rutis’s duel ended, Erich’s match began in a different arena. Just like last year, I wondered if their student numbers are sequentially adjacent? Although it doesn’t bother me—it makes it quite convenient to watch.
“That was amazing! Was Erich the fastest to finish?”
They were so close that I think the fight ended before we even arrived at the dueling area. Seira’s comment was probably correct; it might just be a record for the shortest battle.
“I got lucky. Normally, it would’ve taken longer.”
Erich, with a twinkle in his eye, flashed a small smile at Seira. However, there was a slight stiffness in his expression that hinted at something weighing on his mind.
‘What gives?’
I involuntarily tilted my head. What was up with him? He wins without a scratch in what should be a perfect victory—what more could you want?
…Well, I guess I won’t worry too much. There could be other matters on his mind besides the duel.
*
Though I smiled as much as possible for Seira’s sake, my mood wasn’t quite stellar.
I had dedicated my entire winter vacation to rigorous training on my territory, achieving some decent results. I even felt confident that I could win against anyone in the academy except for Rutis.
‘I aimed to finish it within five moves.’
Yet here I am, struggling through seven.
‘I should have sacrificed an arm.’
Truth is, I could have ended it within five moves. Had I approached him ready to embrace injury, I might’ve wrapped it up right away.
It seems I’m instinctively avoiding injuries; perhaps I need to train that as well.
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