Chapter 126

Name:Academy's Genius Swordsman Author:
Chapter 126

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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“Sunbae?”

Ronan’s eyes widened. The figure stepping out of the carriage wasn’t the wretched son of Baron Dantel. Instead, a woman with sweeping long hair shot a disdainful look.

“Sunbae? What are you talking about?”

Adeshan stood there. Yet, beyond the familiar face, she differed in many ways: a luxurious suit that draped her body, an arrogance absent from her usual warmth. Cold disdain lurked in the depths of her eyes.

Ronan couldn’t pinpoint where to start addressing this. Ronan, who had been left dumbfounded, finally opened his mouth.

“...What are you doing here?”

“Hah, a beggar daring to address me so casually.”

Adeshan chuckled. Then, she strode forward and slapped Ronan across the face. Slap! His face stung with intense pain as it jerked to the side.

“Do you truly wish to die?”

“...Huh.”

Ronan was so stunned that he didn’t even react. A drop of blood trickled from his split lip. Suddenly, a startled cry echoed from inside the carriage.

“Sun... Sunbae?!”

“What’s going on? What happened?”

With clamorous voices, four more individuals disembarked from the carriage. Ronan recognized them instantly. He chuckled bitterly upon seeing their faces.

“This is too much.”

The newcomers were members of the Special Adventure Club: Aselle, Marya, Ophelia, and Shullifen, all dressed like some rich thugs.

Ronan narrowed his eyes. These were the clothes worn by the poachers he had cut down in his previous life. Aselle asked in a bewildered voice.

“Eek! R-Ronan, are you... okay?”

“No.”

Ronan placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. This was beyond a mere curse. It had crossed a line. Aselle, pale-faced, stumbled backward.

“Ah! Calm down!”

“Shut it. You imposters. Why are you mimicking my friends?”

“Ronan, we’re not imposters.”

Marya intervened, grabbing Aselle. Despite Adeshan’s slap, she remained unyielding. Clapping her hands sharply, Marya addressed Adeshan.

“Sunbae, snap out of it!”

“Stop with this nonsense! Trying to imitate lowly poachers!”

“You’ve gone too far...”

Ophelia sighed as she observed the situation. Shullifen nodded in agreement.

Unlike Adeshan, the other four seemed unchanged in personality. Marya quickly leapt forward and caught Adeshan from behind.

“Professor Sekreet warned us. You can’t get too immersed.”

“Let go, what are you doing?”

“Cutie, hurry up.”

Adeshan struggled but couldn’t break free from Marya’s grip. Approaching shakily, Aselle whispered something into her ear, likely some incantation. Suddenly, a short scream burst from Adeshan’s lips.

“Ahh!”

She clutched her head in agony, then slowly looked up. The venom in her eyes had softened.

“Wh-where am I...?”

“You’re in Ronan’s Mental World. Don’t you remember?”

“Did... did I black out again?”

Marya nodded. Adeshan’s eyes wandered around and landed on Ronan. The handprints were still clearly visible on his cheek. Her eyes widened.

“Ro-Ronan! Maybe this is good...!”

Adeshan’s speech and demeanor had reverted to the familiar Adeshan Ronan knew. Trembling, she reached for Ronan’s face with both hands. Her distorted lips barely parted, moistened with emotion.

“Sorry... I’m truly sorry...”

“It’s fine. What happened?”

“T-That’s...”

Ronan asked, but she seemed to struggle to express herself. Suddenly, the servant who had fallen from the carriage stirred.

“Ugh... W-why am I...?”

His hat, covering his face, had flown off somewhere. Ronan cursed under his breath upon seeing the familiar face.

“Damn it.”

“Ronan?”This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.

Braum, facing Ronan, twisted his lips. Blood streamed down his forehead, a direct hit from a rock Ronan had thrown.

His ankle lay in an odd position, an injury from falling off the carriage. Ophelia, standing nearby, approached Braum.

“Braum... are you okay?”

“Ugh... I can hold on. I guess I got too immersed.”

“Be careful. If you get hurt here, you’ll get hurt in reality too.”

“What?”

Ronan’s expression contorted. Grabbing Marya by the shoulders, he asked.

“What kind of bullshit is that? If you get hurt here you get hurt in real life too?”

“...Quite literally. But we can fix it when we go back.”

A screeching sound was coming out from between her bloodless lips. Ronan never loosened his grip on her. Adeshan’s body went limp as she struggled. Ronan, who had raised her body, muttered as if spitting on her.

“More than anything... My Sunbae isn’t as ugly as you.”

Ronan closed his eyes, then opened them. The person he had been holding onto had changed. Adeshan was gone, replaced by a slick-looking young man, tongue sticking out, lying lifeless. He was the son of Baron Dantel, whom Ronan had slain in a past life.

“Fools.”

The severed bodies of the members, whose heads he had seen rolling before, were now replaced by those of poachers he had encountered once. Ronan turned his head after throwing away the young man.

All the buildings and people had vanished, leaving only a long, wide road stretching into the distance. Suddenly, the now healed Cita and the girl stood before Ronan, looking at him silently.

“So, what are you two?”

Ronan asked. There was no more shimmering mana emanating from their bodies. The girl, smiling cheerfully, gave bow to Ronan.

“Thank you.”

“Woof!”

Cita wagged its tail, barked loudly. Its panting tongue and panting face appeared to be smiling. Suddenly, Ronan’s vision blurred.

“You stupid mutt.”

People who should have died did not. It felt like rectifying past mistakes. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Ronan spoke.

“Don’t ever appear before my eyes again.”

There was no response. When Ronan looked again, they had disappeared without a trace. Nothing but the road remained in the empty space.

“Damn it...”

Ronan sighed, touching his forehead. Despite knowing they were fake, killing people close to him wasn’t easy. At that moment, a familiar voice came from behind.

“Quite impressive.”

An eerie shiver ran down his spine. He hadn’t sensed anyone approaching. Ronan drew his sword, turning his body. A beggar-like figure stood with his hand in his pocket.

“You...”

“You seem to have a keen eye for making the right decisions. You can now move on to the next step.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. The beggar’s face transformed into an eerie shadowy figure, resembling the shadow of his father he had seen before. Ronan instinctively realized that the beggar before him was the source of the curse.

“You’ve grown quite a bit. The rate of growth for mortals is indeed astonishing.”

“Die!”

Ronan reflexively swung his sword, but the beggar effortlessly evaded the light attack by transforming his body.

Continuing to attack one after another, Ronan was only met with the beggar effortlessly evading, changing his form at will. Clang! Grabbing the sword with his shadow, the beggar spoke.

“Calm down. I’m not the one you should be cutting.”

“What bullshit is that?”

“I can offer you the means to escape from here with the power you’ve gained. But before that, there’s something you need to see.”

It was a string of incomprehensible words. Just as Ronan was about to speak, the shadow exploded, engulfing him. Amidst the pitch darkness where nothing was visible, a low, eerie voice echoed.

“You will have to decide by the time you get out of here.”

“......!”

Unable to move his body despite the chilling sensation licking at his brain, it seemed his physical form was melting into a liquid state. His senses were gradually disappearing. It was the moment when even the last remaining sense of hearing was melting away into the distant darkness.

“Knowing right from wrong... it’s like black and white.”

The shadow murmured quietly. Ronan’s consciousness, growing distant, finally ceased. His completely melted body began to flow somewhere else.

****

“Huff! Huff! Ugh!”

Ronan jolted upright. The lost senses had returned. Feeling disoriented, he quickly scanned his surroundings.

“Where am I...?”

It was a simple room. Even Jhordin’s study was better than this. Aside from a bed, desk, and chair made of grayish-white stone, there was no other furniture.

Ronan suddenly, noticing that his visibility was much higher, turned his gaze to his hands and feet. The large palms sticking out of his white sleeves were not his own.

“Damn it, what’s happened?”

Ronan staggered towards the desk. On its worn wooden surface lay several sheets of paper, a feathered pen, and a small pendant. When Ronan picked up the pendant, his eyes widened.

“This is...!”

The roughly carved stone pendant was in a hexagonal shape. It resembled the badge attached to Teranil’s sleeve, the bishop of Nebula Clazier. Suddenly, what Sekreet had said in the past flashed through his mind.

‘Memories of your father.’

He had mentioned that when the curse was cast, memories of his father might have flowed in. Indeed, during the incident in the previous Mental World, Ronan had encountered a Nimbuten created based on his father’s memories.

Was this another instance? As Ronan pondered various possibilities, a short knock sounded, and the door opened. A woman in a white robe, with elongated, pointed ears typical of her race, entered while bowing her head.

“Are you okay, savior?”

“...What?”

“I came here after hearing screams. Were you having a nightmare?”

She was a woman Ronan had never seen before. However, he was familiar with the robe was wearing. Other than the material being a little worn, it was the same as the one worn by Nebula Clazier’s followers. Ronan couldn’t say anything, just standing there dumbfounded. His lips moved involuntarily, and his voice flowed out.

“No, I’m fine.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. No matter what he tried to say, his voice wouldn’t come out. His body also didn’t move as he wished, as if his soul was trapped inside.

“Is that so. That’s a relief.”

The elven woman raised her head. Her strikingly red pupils, like embedded rubies, adorned the beautiful maiden. Smiling gently, she pointed at the door.

“In that case, please come. The innocent are waiting for you today as well.”

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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