Chapter 14

Chapter 14

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Zain]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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Darien, who had been called, turned around. Ronan, who had been staring at him all along, pulled out his sword from its sheath. A few strands of silver light shimmered in the air.

The strands of light passed by Darien’s scabbard and pants. Except for Ronan, no one else saw his sword strike. It was the moment when Darien stepped forward.

Thud...

“Hmm?”

Darien’s scabbard snapped. The longsword, now without support, plummeted to the ground. The blade, upon contact with the ground, broke in half.

Clang!

It sounded as if glass or pottery were shattering. The sharp metallic sound resonated loudly. Darien, who had turned his head belatedly, widened his eyes.

“What, what is this!!”

The works from Duruan’s workshop had turned into two pieces of metal scraps, rolling on the ground. However, Darien’s misfortune didn’t end there. The moment he turned, his pants exploded.

In an instant, Darien found himself in his underwear and let out a scream.

“Aaaargh!”

“Oh my~ What are you trying to show us?”

Ronan clapped his hands while sitting. The cut-up pieces of pants fluttered down to the ground like autumn leaves. The voice of the announcer echoed once again.

“Darien Marshal de Mirodin. Are you not here~?”

“Y-You!”

At this rate, he would be unable to take the exam and get disqualified. Darien breathed heavily and clenched his head.

He couldn’t fathom what had just happened. What in the world happened? My sword! My pants!

Flailing around like a madman, he pointed at Ronan’s waist.

“Th-There! Give me the sword! Right now!”

“I don’t want to, you know?”

“You, fool! Even at a glance, it’s obvious you’re a commoner who doesn’t understand the situation! I am Darien Marquis de Mirodin...!”

“Whether you’re a marquis or a lunatic, I don’t really know, but why did you leave your belongings unattended and try to borrow mine? Were you born because your father couldn’t properly guard his belongings?”

“Wj-What the hell...!”

Ronan stood up, spitting on the ground. Taken aback by his fierce demeanor, Darien hastily stepped back. Ronan picked up a handkerchief that was on top of Marya’s head.

“Step back, you! Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t care. Just accept the tip I’m giving you.”

Approaching with confidence, Ronan inserted the handkerchief into Darien’s underwear. Marya covered her mouth with both hands. The piece of cloth sticking out from under his hipbone swayed like a tail.

“Fits you well.”

“Th-This is insane!”

Originally, this kind of act involving a slip of paper in a lady’s scandalous attire is done, but whatever.

Darien, now completely bewildered, charged towards Ronan, but just then, the announcer’s voice resounded once more.

“If you don’t come in by the count of three, you will be disqualified. One... Two...”

“Go see what they want.”

“Damn it!”

Darien almost cried and rushed into the room. Ronan, back in his seat, picked up a piece of the sword.

“What’s he up to now? Perhaps he’s going to sing?”

“Are you out of your mind? No matter how little I have to lose, what will you do if I get caught doing such a thing?”

“During times like these, you’re supposed to thank me, you fool.”

“You’re crazy...! Even if I’m using a pseudonym, this is...! This is...!”

Marya, who had turned pale, smacked Ronan’s arm. Her trembling lips barely held back a smile. Soon, the boisterous sound of laughter spread, causing the onlooking examinees to shrug their shoulders.

“C-Crazy bastard...! Huk, why did you stick a handkerchief there...!”

“Heh, maybe it’s because a vulgar commoner woman’s laughter sounds just as vulgar. I’d even prefer the sound of my own fart. ”

“J-Just stop it! Enough!”

Ronan imitated Darien’s voice and teased her. Marya clung to the back of the chair and kicked her feet restlessly. Just as Marya had been suppressing her laughter, the other examinees refrained from objecting to her outburst, clearly amused.

“Next person, please come in~”

Soon, the guiding voice resounded again. It hadn’t even been thirty seconds since Darien had entered. Wiping away her tears, Marya stood up from her seat. The sting of her cheeks, the embarrassment, the tension – all of it had faded away long ago.

“I’ll be back!”

Marya energetically made a fist before confidently striding forward. Her long blonde hair, tied up, exuded a sense of dignity. From the front row, Ronan waved his hand.

“If you want to smile, then smile.”

Ronan smiled. The door opened again precisely five minutes later.

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Sharp yet graceful, it resembled the marks of a passing breeze. Though still immature, it was undoubtedly Shullifen’s sword mark. He felt anew that he had returned to the past.

“I’ve become incredibly shallow and coarse now that I’ve regressed.”

Kravir turned his gaze to Navirose, the woman with a tawny complexion, who was sitting beside him.

“That’s right, the armor has been scarred like this only about three times in nearly a hundred years. Do you know who did it before? It was none other than...”

“Let’s continue.”

Navirose, who had been silent all along, suddenly interjected. Her tone was so natural that it didn’t even seem impolite.

Clearing his throat, Kravir turned to Ronan again.

“I apologize for the lengthy explanation. Madosros Kyeong!”

Clang.

The knight raised his sword diagonally in defense. A red gleam sprang forth from the gaps in the pitch-dark helmet. The examiners’ attention was firmly fixed on Ronan.

“Show us everything you’ve got.”

“That’s right.”

Ronan grasped the hilt of his sword and with a glint of dark steel, his arm vanished from sight. The trajectory of the sword remained, passing just by the knight’s neck.

Caaalng!

A delayed clang resonated through the air.

...That was all. One of the examiners raised an eyebrow and asked,

“...Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Ronan sheathed his sword. The questioning examiner nodded with a hint of dissatisfaction. The other examiners wore similar expressions, either matching his or looking puzzled. The prayer room instructor burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! It’s not as impressive as your confidence, it seems. Perhaps we should see you next year?”

“Prayer room instructor, please maintain your composure.”

“Haha, my apologies. But truly, isn’t this just ordinary? Was I the only one with expectations?”

The other examiners didn’t say anything.

He had secretly been hoping for even a bit of a reckless attitude, but even that couldn’t be sensed in Ronan’s technique. It was a fast slash, but that was it.

It wasn’t even fast enough to escape those whose senses had been heightened by mana, nor did it possess any remarkable finesse.

The only thing that bothered him a little was the fact that he couldn’t feel any mana at all.

Whether it was because it was hidden by subtle mana, or if it was because he was in poor condition and couldn’t sense it today.

If it was the former, it might have been worth considering, but that possibility was almost nonexistent. One of the examiners finished grading and lowered their glasses before speaking.

“Right, good work. You can go now...”

“Oh my.”

At that moment, both Kravir and Navirose almost simultaneously stood up from their seats. The startled examiners became agitated.

“He-Headmaster?”

“Instructor Navirose? Why the sword...?”

Even Kravir, the headmaster who was known for his expressive emotions, and especially the stoic Navirose had never shown such a reaction before. Furthermore, she held a nodachi in her hand. Navirose glared at Ronan.

“You, what are you?”

“Yes? What do you mean?”

Navirose’s peculiar expression looked as if she had found the enemy who killed her parents, or had discovered a treasure she had been searching for all her life. She glared at him once again.

“I asked what your true identity is. Who did you learn the sword from?”

Ronan didn’t answer. He glanced at each examiner’s face and scratched the back of his head.

“Huh, did that show?”

“Ha.”

Navirose smirked. She rushed out without hesitation and stood in front of Ronan. The prayer room instructor let out an astonished cry.

“In-Instructor Navirose!”

Suddenly, Navirose drew a nodachi from its sheath and pointed it at Ronan’s throat. There was no tremor in the blade, even as it stopped a paper’s width from his neck.

“Wow.”

Following Navirose’s gaze, Ronan raised his eyes and met her gaze. Her deep green eyes blazed like the depths of a forest. Navirose spoke.

“So, you did see it?”

“Yes. The diagonal sweep you did while making three turns. How did you do that?”

For a moment, a hint of doubt flickered in Navirose’s eyes. Without sheathing her sword, she spoke.

“Yes, three times. Just like the tricks you demonstrated.”

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Zain]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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