Chapter 17: Empire’s Rising Star

Chapter 17: Empire’s Rising Star

[Martial Arts Department Second Place / Ronan]

The cigarette hanging from Ronan’s lips fell. For a moment, time stopped.

The noise of the square subsided, and only the shining silver letters remained, occupying a corner of the narrowed field of vision.

Second place.

Without a doubt, the flashing letters in front of his name were written that way.

Second place? What did that mean? It didn’t seem like a bad thing. Was it a fruit’s name?

Then, Aselle’s voice echoed from somewhere.

“Ro...Ronan! se..sec...second place!”

“Yeah?”

“You are second from the top! You did it!”

Right, that’s what it meant.

Time began to flow again. Ronan, who belatedly regained his senses, lowered his head.

Almost crying, Aselle’s face speaking almost pleadingly came into view. Marya, who had rushed over a moment ago, hung onto Ronan’s neck.

“I told you, didn’t I? Right?”

Marya clung to Ronan’s neck without letting go. Ronan patted her back and looked at the slightly smaller letters next to his name.

[Martial Arts Department Second Place / Ronan: 1st in Practical, 5712th in Written]

“Well...”

He couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. 5712th place, that was a number too regrettable even to consider in terms of ranking. He wondered what score he must have gotten on the practical exam to achieve this result.

“You sure know how to make an impression.”

But he probably didn’t know. What was important was that he was second from the top. There would undoubtedly be various privileges, including scholarships.

[Martial Arts Department Top Student / Shullifen de Gracia : 2nd in Practical, 1st in Written (3)]

If there was one thing bothering him, it was probably the fact that he had beaten Shullifen in the practical exam, right?

Ronan recalled memories from his past life and clicked his tongue.

“If I mess this up, it’ll become troublesome again.”

There was no doubt about Shullifen’s skill, but his distinctive arrogance bothered him.

He was a swordmaster at the pinnacle of human nature, unable to bear the fact that someone was above him.

“Well, shall we go now?”

It was the moment when Ronan turned his body towards his friends. Suddenly, an inexplicable chill ran down his spine.

“Um...”

The cold winter wind felt like it was flipping his whole body over, an uncomfortable yet familiar sensation. The sound of the wind seemed to be echoing in his ears.

“Ah... No way...”

Ronan swallowed his saliva and slowly looked around. His gaze soon fixed on one spot.

A boy in a blue uniform was approaching briskly. Ronan closed his eyes tightly and let out a sigh.

“Dammit.”The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

He recognized the face. Even though he was more than ten meters away, he could unmistakably identify it.

People who recognized the boy’s face split to the sides.

“Wow... Look at that guy’s face. What’s with his... huh?!”

“He...he’s the Empire’s Rising Star.”

“It’s an honor to meet you!”

Eventually, the boy stopped in front of Ronan. Among the three, Marya was the first to react. When she looked up at the boy’s face, her eyes widened.

“Sh...Shullifen?!”

He was tall, with handsome features. His deep blue hair was as rich as the ocean.

Time had certainly passed, giving him a matured appearance, but his cold impression, like a piece of ice, remained unchanged.

He was the boy who would later become the strongest inspector beyond the Empire. Shullifen murmured softly.

“So, you’re Ronan.”

“Yeah? No, I’m not.”

Ronan whistled and averted his gaze. Aselle and Marya’s faces stiffened. Shullifen’s forehead was marked with faint wrinkles.

“Why are you lying?”

“Lying? Who the hell are you to say that? Do you have proof that I’m Ronan? And why are you talking informally with me? Huh?”

“Huh? Where, where are we going?!”

With Aselle grabbing Marya’s hand, they disappeared into the crowd. It was just as Shullifen’s sword strike was about to hit again.

As Ronan brought his sword down, he quickly grabbed his right arm.

“Stop!”

“What the...!”

Shullifen urgently applied force to his arm to stop the sword, but the divine sword was already approaching Ronan. The mithril blade touched the palm of Ronan’s hand.

-Clangggg-!!!

A strange metallic sound echoed loudly throughout the square. It was the resonating sound unique to mithril.

The shock, reminiscent of an earthquake, spread from his hand throughout his body. Shullifen lost grip of the sword hilt.

Ronan seized the opening and struck Shullifen’s face.

Crunch!

Shullifen clutched his nose and staggered.

“Ugh!”

“Truly a phantasmal species. You’ve been dutiful even before birth.”

Ronan chuckled contentedly, looking at the Marpez egg he held in his hand. As expected, the eggshell showed no signs of life.

It was possible because Shullifen’s sword was mithril. Ronan placed the egg back in his pocket.

Then, he yelled towards the stumbling Shullifen.

“Let your head cool off until the entrance ceremony, you brat! A man should know how to acknowledge results!”

“Grr... Stop right there...!”

Ronan turned his back and vanished into the crowd as if being sucked away. Soon after he left, armored guards rushed over.

Recognizing Shullifen, the guards hurriedly supported him.

“Lord Shullifen! Are you okay? What was that sound just now?!”

Shullifen stood up, blood streaming from his nose. He tried to expand his Aura to trace Ronan’s group’s mana, but they were already too far away to sense.

“...Yes. I’m fine.”

“Who would dare to do such a thing? If you could give us a description...”

“Right now, I’m a legitimate new student.”

The guards didn’t grasp the meaning immediately. It took a few seconds for them to understand that it meant ‘don’t raise your voice.’

“Heh... Alright! Understood... No, I get it.”

“Also, it’s not a big deal. I asked for a light sparring match, and the opponent agreed. You don’t need to worry.”

“Still...”

“However... I can guarantee it in the name of the Grand Duke of Gracia.”

Hearing that even the successor of the Grand Duke of Grancia spoke like that, the guards had no more to say. They saluted ceremonially and withdrew.

Shullifen picked up his fallen sword from the ground. His eyes widened as he observed the divine sword.

There was an extremely faint, but discernible, trace of silver on the edge of the sword.

‘What on earth...?’

There were more than one or two strange things.

The sphere that allowed the mithril-edged sword to pass through was a problem in itself, but the biggest issue was that the enigmatic mana that Shullifen had always believed to be Ronan’s was, in fact, flowing out from that sphere.

‘I didn’t sense any mana from him.’

Shullifen recalled the exchange he had with Ronan. Though he hadn’t activated his Aura, he had still infused considerable mana into his sword before the fight.

Without a doubt, Ronan must have thought the same...

‘No, that’s impossible.’

Shullifen briefly considered the possibility that Ronan had fought without using mana. However, he quickly shook his head. It was an implausible scenario.

It made more sense to hypothesize that the rare, covert mana originated from Shadow Mana, as it was colloquially known. If that were the case, everything would be explained.

“Damn it.”

His breath stopped. As his rationality returned, the air suddenly felt colder.

Ronan’s words about understanding the results echoed in his mind. He had to admit that he had become excessively excited due to the shock of achieving second place in the practical exam, where he had been convinced of his superiority.

Shullifen lifted his head. The names of the successful candidates were still inscribed across the sky with stars.

He fixed his gaze on the two letters that were glowing beneath his own name.

“Ronan.”

His grip on the sword hilt tightened. Phileon Academy. He had always thought of the process leading to becoming a Sword Saint as just a passing phase, but it seemed that it might not be so simple after all.

Shullifen began to walk toward the distant street. He felt his heart beating at a different rhythm than usual. The young prodigy didn’t realize that the name for that feeling was anticipation.