Chapter 187

Chapter 187

HEL SCANS

[Translator Peptobismol]

[Proofreader Demon God]

Ah, dammit.

Ronans eyes widened as he looked inside the box. Inside the silk-lined interior lay black and semi-transparent shards of metal, remnants of Lamancha that had been shattered during the fight with Darman.

Well, they managed to find it,

Ronan murmured with a mixture of admiration in his voice. Honestly, he had thought they would never find it amidst the massive collapse. The sight of Parzan officials still working tirelessly like mules was a comforting thought, even if he couldnt see them.

Carefully, he wrapped the shards in the silk spread on the floor. It was a bit disappointing, but it was a good outcome. The shell of Cita was a precious material that couldnt be replaced. Surely, there would be opportunities for recycling.

Maybe it wouldnt be a bad idea to visit a different blacksmith this time, instead of Doron. But

Ronan raised an eyebrow. The box was unreasonably heavy for its contents. The cause became apparent as soon as he removed the compartment containing Lamanchas fragments; another space revealed itself beneath.

Why did they send so much?

White metal shards were piled up haphazardly. Each piece seemed quite hefty, giving off a starkly contrasting impression compared to Lamancha. It was undoubtedly the wreckage of Ymir, destroyed in the battle against Darman.

I cant use this.

Ronan chuckled as he examined the shards. Though he had received them as a favor, even to his untrained eye, their condition seemed far from favorable. Unlike Lamancha, which could potentially be restored into a weapon, it seemed like everything here needed to be melted down and repurposed entirely.

One fortunate aspect was that the hilt seemed intact. Ronan untied the bandages wrapped around it.

Material made from ripped pages of Virja. Perhaps the power resonating with his second core stemmed from here. Reflecting on the word resonance, Ronan flicked his fingers.

It might be useful after all.

If his thoughts played out as he envisioned, there could be decent recycling potential. The power Ymir possessed was ultimately a type of shared sense.

Ronan promptly drafted a production request to be sent to Gran Cappadocia. It was intended for individuals like Iril and Lucy, innocent and good-hearted. He didnt know when he would leave Philleon again, so it was prudent to hurry the production process.

When Ronan removed the compartment containing Ymirs shards, the floor was revealed. A piece of parchment was spread out like a mat.

Whats this now?

Ronan picked up the parchment.

To the owner of the Holy Sword. Participant 44.

Allogins letter was concise. In just a few lines, he expressed gratitude for saving himself and Parzan, along with a brief update. It was straightforward, making it easy to read without any unnecessary formalities.

As Ronan had anticipated, the elders took the recent attack very seriously. Information about Nebula Clazier and their special organization, Lycopos, was relayed to every continent.

It was mentioned that the sword Darman used and the bodies of his followers were collected and undergoing analysis. Ronan nodded satisfactorily.

I hope something useful comes out of the analysis.

The letter concluded with a promise that hed come visit the Holy Sword once the situation was resolved. Despite the messy handwriting and brevity, it carried sincere sentiments. Suddenly, a postscript caught Ronans attention.

Ill introduce you to a suitable forge for the Holy Sword. Ill send a map along with it.

Following that was a mention that he and other elders had included letters of recommendation. Below the letter was a map indicating the forges location. Given that the coastline was to the north, it seemed to be situated in Heiran, the northernmost part of the continent, as mentioned above.nove(l)bi(n.)com

The north, huh?

Ronan rubbed his chin, intrigued. If swordsmen who once dominated the past era esteemed it so highly, the forge must be quite remarkable.

Although he had spent some time in the north in his past life as a Punishment Soldier, he had never ventured as far as Heiran. It was Adeshans homeland, and once the territory occupied by the Beastmen Alliance led by Zaifa. Somehow, he had a premonition that his next destination had already been decided.

I guess Ill have to get a set of leather armor.

When he took out the map, the box was empty. Ronan quickly wrote a reply to Allogin and prepared to go out. Though there was still some time left, it was better to set off sooner rather than later to secure a good spot.

Well then, shall I go?

Having finished his preparations, Ronan set off. As he stepped out of the dormitory, a golden light poured over his face. The weather was warm, but the wind felt cool. It was reminiscent of the day he had entered the academy.

****

As usual, the entrance ceremony for the 780th batch was held in the main square. Stands and platforms conjured by Katirs magic were already set up.

Members of the Elite Adventure Club had already taken the front rows of the stand. Aselle, noticing Ronan, waved his hand.

R-Ronan! Over here!

Youre here early.

Ronan sat down next to Aselle. Normally, only second-year students, excluding freshmen, were expected to attend, but if there were no classes, students were free to watch the ceremony.

The Emperor chuckled softly, seeming quite immersed in the role-playing. A few bodyguards standing directly behind him stared at Ronan as if they wanted to kill him.

I read your report well. Youve made remarkable contributions from your first mission.

You flatter me.

I should acknowledge your efforts. Let me know if you need anything.

I dont particularly need anything Ill think about it slowly.

Ronan shook his head. It seemed like a lot of people were eager to give away things these days, including Navardose. About thirty minutes later, the grandstand was filled with spectators.

The second-year students, who would surprise the freshmen with a warm welcome, were lined up on one side of the main square. Before long, the fresh-faced newcomers stepped into the square, as if bursting with energy, despite some still carrying traces of winters grasp.

Oh, theyre here.

Some of them were seen when the continent was still engulfed in winter. Itargand was walking casually, blending in with the crowd.

Something interesting must be happening.

It was much more interesting than receiving new recruits in the Punishment Squad, who might even die tomorrow. Katir, standing on the podium, addressed the freshmen.

Welcome, everyone. I am Krava Katir, the current principal of Philleon Academy.

Cheers erupted. It seemed they had managed to resolve things somehow, judging by the improved expressions. Navardose had yet to appear. Behind him stood a tense group of faculty members, presumably having heard the news.

Before we begin the entrance ceremony, I would like to introduce someone to you. Please welcome our distinguished guest who has come from afar. Lets greet them with a big round of applause.

A guest?

Who could it be?

The previously calm grandstand started to buzz with curiosity. Katir let out a meaningful laugh, suggesting he had planned something.

Suddenly turning, he reached out towards an empty space next to him. Suddenly, as if materializing out of thin air, a majestic chair reminiscent of a throne appeared. Katir, with a slight pause, began speaking.

Now, lets welcome them. The Primordial Flame and the Wings of the Divine, Navar Hmm?

What?

Ronan furrowed his brows. Katir, who was speaking, froze. The chair was there, but Navardose, who should have been sitting on it, was nowhere to be seen. Katir couldnt hide his confusion and muttered.

H-hold on, where did he?

The faculty members began to murmur as well. Something was going wrong. It was supposed to be a speech directed towards the bewildered freshmen. Pwaaah! Suddenly, a gigantic magic circle appeared in the sky above the main square. Simultaneously, a mana storm swept through the square.

Aaarghhh!

Wh-whats happening all of a sudden?!

Screams erupted from all over. The transparent barrier that Katir had set up for the surprise welcome shattered into pieces. The second-year students, now revealed, were in disarray.

Th-the barrier?!

My clubs promotional banner is flying away!

It was utter chaos. The sudden appearance of the seniors startled the freshmen, but unfortunately, there were far too many sources of astonishment at the moment.

The gigantic magic circle, large enough to cover the entire field of vision, had individual lines glowing like lava. Soon, the center of the magic circle opened up, revealing the head of a massive dragon. The sheer size, surpassing that of most buildings, overwhelmed even Katir, who ended up screaming in terror.

Aaaah!

Mom.

Itargand, looking up at the sky, muttered in disbelief. Now, people were fainting left and right.

Then, from the rolling eyes of the dragon, a bright flash emitted. For a moment, everyone in the main square closed their eyes.

When they opened them again, they saw a woman sitting in the vacant chair. Her red dress and her hair flowing gracefully down her shoulders, shimmering in a color reminiscent of the dragons scales seen just moments ago. She looked down at Katir haughtily and spoke.

I apologize. I had to deal with something, so I had to deal with it urgently.

Silence fell. Katirs face turned pale. It seemed like the performance was quite different from what had been agreed upon.

Uh uhh

Though it seemed like all was lost, as an adult, he had a responsibility to handle the situation. Katir, with a forced smile, turned to the freshmen.

Everyone please welcome Lady Navardose.

HEL SCANS

[Translator Peptobismol]

[Proofreader Demon God]

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