Chapter 27

Chapter 27

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Zain]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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The other secrets held within the Acalusia Castle were stimulating him. Ronan, who had estimated the plans ahead, rubbed his chin.

“First... I’ll need to get a sword from that blacksmith.”

The invitation to Acalusia was truly an unexpected stroke of luck. He didn’t think he would receive it, and even if he did, he assumed it would be much later.

Ronan recalled his conversation with Adeshan. To pass the test of Acalusia, all he needed were the invitation and skill.

He had his own skills, but there was one problem.

“He handled me roughly.”

Ronan drew his black iron sword. The state of it had worsened since he had met Shullifen before.

Engaging in continuous sparring in its already damaged state had been fatal. If he had known how to communicate, he would have screamed for them to throw him into the forge immediately.

No matter how unselective they were about equipment, this kind of damage was beyond repair. Ronan thought of the metal plaque in his pouch. It had been a temporary memory impairment gift from Shullifen that Iril had fallen for.

“Still, if it’s a secret forge in Gracia, I might be able to get something sturdy.”

Ronan remembered the location of the secret forge in Gracia. The fact that they were on vacation for a few days also helped.

“Today’s Wednesday... I’ll have to wait until the weekend anyway.”

According to the rules of Philleon Academy, students couldn’t leave the grounds on weekdays. Ronan decided to focus on academy life until the weekend arrived.

The party didn’t end until nightfall. The new students moved under the guidance of the dormitory supervisors.

****

Philleon Academy valued skill more than any other educational institution. Scholarships and privileges given to top performers were evidence of that.

For the top 30%, regardless of where they were in the Empire, free transportation was provided. They could access Grade 3 or lower forbidden books for academic research.

They could also receive official invitations to the mage tower or knight order they wanted to enter after graduation. Numerous other benefits were provided throughout their enrollment.

But as the saying goes, fresh carrots can also whip. The dormitory system, divided into three tiers, was a prime example.

The first night of admission. The cries of noble newcomers echoed from the dormitory for the lower ranks, just as always. They were realizing for the first time that the floor and ceiling could creak.

“Are they telling us to stay in a place like this? I’m the son of Count Balbroos...”

“If this is my room, then what are these people?”

The Kratir Ward provided to the bottom 10% (proposed by himself) was a building modeled after the homes of commoners.

Inside the humble wooden building, four noble boys were staring at each other as if seeing ghosts.

The guide spoke calmly.

“Four people share a Kratir Ward.”

“Then where is the servant? Who will organize our luggage and attend to us?”

“There are no maids or caretakers in the Kratir Ward. Please check the living rules and any helpful information written here. Well then...”

“Wait!”

Ignoring the noble boys, the guide left the room. The students’ status was not considered in this matter.

Even if they were from affluent and prestigious families, if their grades were low, they had to lead the life of commoners without any objection. It was possible due to the Imperial family being the entity running Philleon.

In contrast, the upper-tier dormitories were so luxurious that one might wonder if they were acceptable. The Navirose Ward, where the top 10% resided, boasted elegance almost on par with the palace itself.

“...And who might you be, miss?”

Ronan furrowed his brow as he looked at the maid standing in front of his room. The maid with tied-up hair lowered her head slightly and gathered her apron-clad hands.

“Welcome, Lord Ronan. Congratulations on your admission.”

“What do you want?”

“I am the dedicated maid in charge of your service, Lord Ronan. You can entrust me with tasks such as cooking, laundry, and cleaning.”

Dozens of crude maid-related jokes crossed Ronan’s mind in an instant. He managed to suppress his urge and spoke up.

“Just make good food, that’s all I need. I’ve got all my limbs attached.”

“According to the rules, I cannot do that.”

“Then, if I were to smear feces on the wall, you’d clean that up too, right? Or if I peed on the sink instead of the toilet?”

“Yes.”

“Not an easy one, are you? Let’s get along.”

After shaking hands with the maid, Ronan opened the door. The room, about twice as spacious as Nim’s home, was filled with luxurious furniture.

The bed was large enough for three people to roll around, and the dinosaur-like bookshelf was packed with expensive books. Ronan let out a whistle.

“Killer.”

Aselle probably got assigned a room like this too. He could imagine him standing there with his mouth open like a dimwit. While he was leisurely looking around the room, he noticed a pamphlet on the desk.

“What’s this?”

The first page of the pamphlet read ‘Course Enrollment Form.’

Come to think of it, he remembered what the seniors had told him. Philleon students could choose the courses they wanted to take.

Ronan clenched his fist when he saw the words ‘Mana Manipulation.’ No matter how hard he tried to self-study, understanding mana affinity and manipulation proved elusive.

Lately, the necessity of handling mana has become more pressing. He felt acutely the awkwardness of being in front of sensitive magic users like Aselle, feeling like he was blind even when his eyes were wide open.

“Damn it, even if it means getting dirty, I’ll learn.”

Imagination and affinity for mana were the things he couldn’t figure out no matter how much he tried. Seeing the words ‘Imperial Swordsmanship,’ his interest was piqued. As someone who never properly learned swordsmanship, proper swordsmanship intrigued him. Just looking at a rotating sword made it seem useful.

“Fine... I guess there’s no helping it. Alright, give it a try. But be prepared if you fail. I’ll increase the training intensity several times over.”

“Yes.”

Ronan assumed his stance. Avarda narrowed his eyes. Mana flowed into his eyes, enhancing his dynamic vision. He intended to dismiss Ronan mercilessly if his form deviated even slightly.

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Zain]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

Join our Discord for release /invite/dbdMDhzWa2

Read ahead on our /helscans

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“Then, First Form. Begin!”

Ronan swung his practice sword. There was no wavering in his flawless form. Avarda, who had been silent for a moment, spoke again.

“...Second Form. Begin!”

Ronan swung his practice sword once more. Avarda chuckled softly.

“Heh, I should’ve known. Third Form. Begin!”

The sound of hitting the practice dummies had ceased some time ago. All the new students were staring at Ronan in amazement.

Finally, Ronan demonstrated the Ninth Form, then lowered his practice sword. Avarda, who had remained silent for a while, opened his mouth with an exasperated expression.

“...I’ve seen enough.”

“Yes, well.”

Without a word, Avarda took out a silver piece of paper from his pocket. It was an early completion certificate. Ronan accepted it, feeling a sense of bitterness as if it were a tissue with a used tissue.

“You don’t need to take this class for the remaining year. Your grades will be recorded as perfect.”

“Um... thank you.”

“Right. Don’t become conceited and make good use of the remaining time.”

Having received the early graduation certificate, Ronan left the training ground. Avarda, watching his retreating figure, muttered to himself in disbelief.

“He’s Beyond expectations to the point of being terrifying.”

Ronan’s forms were flawless. Compared to Shullifen and even himself, who had been wielding a sword for over twenty years, there was hardly any difference.

If it was true that Ronan had never learnt Imperial Swordsmanship, then he possessed an incomprehensible talent. Avarda chuckled softly, then turned his head towards the new students.

“You little chicks!! Can’t you swing your swords any faster!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Don’t let moss grow on your elbows that way! Faster and more accurately!!”

Avarda’s tone brought back memories of his demon-like days as a military instructor. Startled new students resumed striking the practice dummies.

Thump!

Thump!

The sound of hitting the practice dummies continued for a long while.

****

“What the...?”

Ronan sat down on a bench by the lake. Suddenly finding himself with free time, he had nothing to do.

Staring blankly at the lake, Ronan drew his sword. He demonstrated the Imperial Swordsmanship forms he had just learned one by one in the air. All nine forms were reproduced perfectly.

“Why is this so easy...?”

Ronan tilted his head in confusion. Unlike Navirose’s rotating swords, he didn’t need to repeatedly analyze and mimic the forms.

Though there were slight differences in the stances and sword movements, it was no different from reproducing them at a glance. It wasn’t completely pointless either. Following the instructions, he felt that his movements and the sword forms had become more efficient.

He felt confident that he could easily defeat a swordmaster who only used Imperial Swordsmanship. However, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness, different from what he had anticipated.

“Ugh... this wasn’t what I expected from the class.”

As Ronan rummaged through his pockets, he pulled out a tobacco stick. He realized that the time that should have been dedicated to sweating had been completely emptied.

Should he do some stamina training? As he leaned back on the bench, supporting himself with both arms and gazing at the sky, a voice came from behind.

“What are you doing here?”

“Huh?”

“It’s probably Avarda’s Imperial Swordsmanship class time. Wasn’t it a required subject for new students?”

The voice was commanding yet dignified, one that Ronan had undoubtedly heard before. Ronan turned his head backward. He saw the dark green uniform worn by senior instructors.

Ronan’s pupils dilated.

“Navirose?”

“Address me as Instructor. And remember, smoking is prohibited on campus.”

With fair skin and gray hair, the former Grand Swordmaster, Navirose, stood there. Ronan took the cigarette out of his mouth and stood up from his seat.

——————

HEL SCANS

[Translator – Zain]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

Join our Discord for release /invite/dbdMDhzWa2

Read ahead on our /helscans

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