Chapter 146: Candidate

Chapter 146: Candidate

“Instructor Navirose has summoned you. She has something to say regarding the Festival of Swords”

“The Festival of Swords?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. He had heard of it a few times before—an assembly or ceremony where exceptional swordsmen from across the continent gathered. There were even rumors that the legendary Holy Sword was hidden somewhere in Parzan, where the ceremony was held.

Come to think of it, when he returned from the Mental World and met up with Navirose, she mentioned that the Festival of Swords was approaching soon. Ronan was about to follow Shullifen out. However, Aselle grabbed his sleeve, stopping him.

“Just a moment.”

“Huh?”

Aselle hesitated, lips twitching as if he was restless. Ronan turned to Shullifen and spoke.

“I’ll catch up soon. You go ahead.”

“Don’t be too late. It’s in Arena 1.”

Shullifen left the room. Ronan spoke after the sound of footsteps had completely faded.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I need to show you this.”

Rummaging through his belongings, Aselle pulled out a black book.. It was “The Vijra of Destruction,” a forbidden book, written by the Savior. As he flipped through the pages, he reached the last one and unfolded it. Ronan’s eyes widened.

“This is...”

“After returning from Rodolan, it changed like this. Or more precisely, a page was added.”

Aselle stammered, and he seemed uneasy. It looked as if the paper was directly cut out from ice. The last new page was completely stained white.

An eerie cold air was escaping from the page, which was clearly made of different materials. As Ronan took a closer look, he saw small letters engraved on it. Ronan raised his eyebrows.

“What’s written here? Frozen... Field?”Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

“It’s a spell and the technique for using ice magic. It’s written in great detail. When I think I have learned everything, the content automatically changes to the next level...”

“What?”

“I don’t really understand either. Why did this happen?”

Aselle continued, stumbling over his words. It seemed like the book spontaneously progressed to the next level of knowledge as soon as Aselle felt he had mastered the current one.

Among the information, there were even spells and techniques that were unknown in academic circles, and Aselle was able to manipulate ice at such a fast pace thanks to the book. Ronan frowned.

“It feels unpleasant.”

It wasn’t just about usefulness; the fact that an inanimate book was behaving like a sentient being was unsettling. As Ronan was scrutinizing the last page, a familiar voice was heard.

[Nice to see you.]

“Kyaaah!”

“Shit, what is this?”

Aselle jumped in surprise. Ronan instinctively snatched the book and threw it. Thud! As Aselle backtracked rapidly, he stopped as his head hit the wall. After catching his breath, he spoke in a teary voice.

“Wh-What was that just now? Huh?!”

“...It was definitely that b*tch’s voice.”

It was the voice of the Winter Witch. At that moment, Ronan was looking around with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

[Aya... but isn’t it a little too much to throw me away?]

The witch’s voice was heard again! Ronan turned his head in the direction of the sound. Vajra was lying open on the floor. He slowly opened his mouth.

“...What did you say?”

[That’s right, child. It’s been a while since I last saw you.]

“...I want to learn.”

With closed eyes, Aselle nodded. He needed to become stronger to prevent such incidents from happening again. Ronan chuckled and sheathed his sword. The voice of the witch echoed.

[That is indeed the right decision. Beautiful child.]

****

In the end, Aselle chose to become the witch’s apprentice. Ronan left the room feeling relieved only after witnessing the witch and Aselle proceeding with the Mana Oath, a lesser version of the Blood Oath.

‘He’s ecoming bolder. About time.’

Ronan chuckled to himself as he walked down the corridor. As Aselle’s eager gaze faded from his mind, he ruminated on how that guy, who struggled to even kill a goblin properly, had grown so much.

Lost in various thoughts, he suddenly arrived at Arena 1. Shullifen and Navirose were already there, engaged in a conversation.

No other students were in sight. Locking eyes with Navirose, Ronan grinned.

“The hero who ended the endless winter has arrived. Thank you for sparing time for a humble teacher.”

“Damn it, stop making fun of me.”

Navirose chuckled. Fortunately, her complexion seemed much better compared to the last time. It seemed the emotional scars from losing to Zaifa had healed to some extent.

“It was a joke. Was there something urgent?”

“Yeah, a friend had to make a life-changing decision.”

“If that’s the reason, nothing can be done. Stand next to Shullifen.”

Ronan did as instructed. Navirose’s expression grew serious. Alternating her gaze between the two, she spoke.

“Yesterday, I received a message from the Holy City of Parzan. They said the Festival of Swords will take place in mid-next month. You’re probably familiar with it, but it’s a prestigious event where only those of a certain skill level can participate.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. It seemed like she called only the two of them separately for a reason. Shullifen raised his hand and asked.

“It seems to have been brought forward from the original schedule. Any reason for that?”

“I don’t really know. The elders in Parzan decide on the dates. But it’s a fact that this is an unusual case. Usually, they strictly adhere to the schedule.”

Navirose shook her head. Judging by her expression of puzzlement, it seemed like she found it equally strange.

“I believe one of you should go, representing all the grades.”

“...One?”

“Yes. Only one teacher and one student from Philleon Academy can attend. Only the stronger of the two of you can accompany me to Parzan.”

As soon as they heard those words, Ronan and Schlieffen looked at each other at the same time. A moment of silent acknowledgment passed between them. They both wore an air of detachment that suggested no intention to back down.

“No intention to yield, right?”

“Thought you knew I don’t joke.”

Ronan chuckled softly. The serene atmosphere transformed abruptly into something fierce. Shullifen, gazing at him silently, muttered lowly.

“Can’t be helped.”

For an instant, a palpable tension seemed to rise from Shullifen’s shoulders. It echoed the solemnity he’d shown when vowing to uphold their oath almost two years ago. It seemed he felt a considerable weight about the upcoming event of the Festival of Swords.

‘Is it that important of an event?’

Ronan raised an eyebrow. Frankly, he held no particular feelings about the Festival of Swords. It was information unheard of even in his previous life—a celebration whose primary significance, the Holy Sword, was quite literally a fantastical and elusive existence.

But if you were to ask whether he intended to step back, that wasn’t the case either. Ronan’s attention was directed towards the gathering of the strongest swordsmen from various regions.

Considering the possibility of free sparring, it seemed it would aid in honing his skills, and perhaps, he could find a reliable ally. That’s when Navirose spoke up.

“I’ll decide who will go three days before we depart for Parzan based on the outcome of a duel.”

Ronan and Shullifen nodded. Up to this point, it was as expected. Unexpectedly, Navirose uttered something entirely unanticipated.

“But there’s a condition. You are prohibited from sparring among yourselves for the remainder of the month.”