Chapter 72: Sparring (1)
“…Pfft… hahaha…”
Sometimes, I couldn’t help but think that Baek Hoyeon’s laughter had an oddly chilling undertone.
It wasn’t directed at me, but whenever she laughed at someone else, there was always this unsettling sense of something lurking behind it.
I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it definitely felt dangerous.
“…Are you enjoying yourself?”
She had occasionally shown that same laugh during swordsmanship club sessions, making me wonder if she secretly enjoyed watching fights.
That said, she didn’t seem to enjoy being in fights herself.
“Enjoying it? Of course. There’s nothing more entertaining than watching a fight. So, tell me—who do you think will win? The blue-haired guy or the one with the white bandana?”
She asked me with genuine amusement, her tone casual, yet bearing the unmistakable poise of a princess.
Well, it wasn’t like the outcome of the match mattered much.
No penalties for losing, and the sparring was only to gauge everyone’s abilities.
There was no need to take it too seriously.
The two male students were evenly matched, neither willing to give an inch.
Though I wasn’t a fan of predicting winners or losers, since Hoyeon suggested it, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a guess.
“The blue-haired one, maybe. The white bandana is holding out well, but there’s a noticeable size difference. Plus, since I don’t sense any mana from him, it looks like he’s relying solely on skill.”
“Oh? Do you think so? I believe the white bandana will win. He seems to be hiding a trump card.”
Even here, we had differing opinions. Their fight was so close that it was hard to predict the outcome.
They blocked each other’s sword trajectories, anticipated strikes, and used their stances to disrupt attacks.
It was impossible to tell who would win.
“So… what shall we bet for?”
“…Bet?”
“Every wager needs a punishment, doesn’t it? Go ahead, propose something. I’m confident I’ll win.”
She was unusually smug, confidently declaring that any punishment would be fine.
Her provocations were almost enough to ignite my competitive spirit.
“…How about… stripping?”
It was a classic punishment, so I suggested it matter-of-factly.
However, her reaction was far from ordinary.
“…That doesn’t add up! What benefit would I gain from seeing your naked body…?”
She hissed at me quietly, clearly annoyed.
Still, her irritation was oddly focused. It seemed I’d need to come up with another idea.
Buying something didn’t feel fair either, considering her overwhelming wealth.
…Ah, maybe this would work.
“Then how about deciding where to go this weekend? That way, it’s mutually beneficial.”
“That… sounds acceptable. Very well, let’s go with that.”
She agreed, likely because the proposal seemed reasonable.
Coincidentally, there was a place I’d been meaning to visit anyway.
It wasn’t an absolute must, but it was a beautiful building I’d like to see with Hoyeon.
“Yes, that’s fine. Oh, it looks like the match is about to end.”
The blue-haired student was overpowering the white bandana, nearly pressing him to the ground.
Realizing that technique wasn’t enough, the blue-haired student resorted to sheer brute strength, and the white bandana barely managed to hold his ground.
Just when it seemed like the blue-haired student would win, an unexpected twist occurred.
The white bandana sidestepped and tilted his blade, causing the blue-haired student to momentarily lose his balance.
Seizing the opportunity, the white bandana struck at the blue-haired student’s neck—
Slashing it. But there was no spray of blood.
The blue-haired student clutched his neck, clearly struggling to process whether this was reality or a dream.
“Finn wins. An excellent match. Return to your seats.”
“As expected.”
Hoyeon closed her eyes and spoke with a strangely irritated expression.
It was honestly cute, but right now, I was more focused on winning my bet with her.
“…Beginner’s luck, I suppose.”
“Next, Baek Hoyeon and Remulia. Step forward.”
***
I had vaguely assumed my name would be called eventually, but I didn’t expect to be up second.
“Oh, Hoyeon, you’re up second. Do you want to predict the outcome of this match too?”
Dogeon, oddly enthusiastic about the sparring, brought up bets before offering any encouragement.
“…Aren’t you going to cheer for me?”
That stung. I’d been planning to cheer for him if his name was called.
“Oh, of course, I’m sure you’ll win, Hoyeon… but still. A match is a match, isn’t it?”
Realizing his mistake, Dogeon quickly cheered for me, but he ruined it by adding an unnecessary comment at the end.
“Hah. Forget it. Naturally, I bet on myself to win.”
“I’ll bet on you too, Hoyeon.”
Why did I even bring up betting? I just wanted to chat with Dogeon while watching the matches.
But seeing how seriously he was taking it, I started regretting my suggestion.
Feeling slightly annoyed, I descended into the arena.
No one had called it that, but with its colosseum-like design, it was hard to see it as anything else.
The weapon rack held many blades, but none matched what I used back home.
I didn’t love the idea of asking that psycho professor for help…
“Professor Georg.”
“What is it, Hoyeon? Do you need a weapon? I would think someone of your caliber wouldn’t require one.”
…Seriously? He’d been subtly underestimating me before, but now he was being openly dismissive.
At the time, I dismissed it as a peculiar charm, but now that I knew Georg was a complete lunatic, I felt an overwhelming urge to snap.
“A blade as long as my leg. Please craft one for me.”
I kept my tone curt, effectively telling him to shut up and just make the weapon.
Surprisingly, instead of crafting it on the spot, Georg reached into a subspace and pulled it out. Without a word, he walked to the corner of the arena.
“Take your positions.”
“…In the name of our great ancestor, Remus, I look forward to an honorable duel! My name is Remulia! Prepare yourself!”
My opponent was a talkative girl who seemed to chatter on endlessly. It must be a noble custom to follow such tedious rituals.
“I’m Baek Hoyeon.”
Naturally, I had no reason to bother with such formalities. I didn’t have any ancestors or titles worth naming anyway.
Remulia seemed taken aback—offended, even—by my brief response.
“…Ready, begin.”
At the signal, my opponent charged straight at me.
The way her body was imbued with mana suggested she practiced a mana breathing technique.
If I’d known this earlier, I might have bet differently…!
“…Hngh.”
Despite her build being similar to mine, she packed a surprising amount of strength.
Annoyed by my lack of pleasantries, she launched a relentless assault. But…
Compared to my father or my brother, her attacks were laughably weak.
“This ends now!”
Growing overconfident after I continued to defend without counterattacking, she attempted an overly ambitious and wide-open move.
I landed a clean strike to her solar plexus.
“Gah…?!”
Caught off guard, she collapsed forward with her sword still raised in the air.
I would have gone for her neck, but as expected of someone adept in mana breathing, she recovered from the shock quickly enough to block with her blade.
What a shame.
“…You don’t even know mana breathing… how did you…?!”
Her chatter persisted.
The momentum of her earlier onslaught was gone, and she hesitated to approach.
Well, if she won’t come to me, I’ll just go to her.
Though she seemed skilled at attacking, she was far less adept at defending.
Unlike her earlier aggression, she barely managed to block my strikes.
Her blocks were last-second reactions, leaving scratches accumulating all over her body.
She must’ve been used to dominating weaker opponents.
Her frantic attempts to escape only fueled my determination to keep her cornered.
Even if my skill was modest, it was still my father’s swordsmanship.
There was no way I’d lose to someone like this.
“…Ah!”
I struck her sword aside and slashed cleanly across her exposed torso.
Even if I couldn’t defeat the A-class in the swordsmanship club, opponents like this were no problem.
As before, there was no blood. The minor wounds on her body vanished as if they’d never existed.
Confirming that her torso was intact, Remulia clenched her fists in frustration, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I lost… I was so close…”
You thought you were close? Dream on.
“Baek Hoyeon wins. Impressive, Hoyeon. I didn’t expect you to be skilled in swordsmanship. A great duel from both of you. Return to your seats.”
Am I not allowed to use a sword?
I glared at Georg before carefully returning the weapon to its rack and heading back to my seat.
“As expected of you, Hoyeon. Your skills are fitting for the A-class!”
“How many times do I have to tell you? That was pathetic.”
If it had been my father or my brother, they wouldn’t have wasted time exchanging pleasantries—they’d have attacked immediately.
And even if they listened to greetings, they’d have sliced their opponent in half mid-sentence.
Compared to their swordsmanship, my strength and technique were embarrassingly inadequate.
But even something this lackluster could be useful in certain situations—like now.
“…That aside, it’s 2-1 again. What should I do? Looks like I’ll be deciding the destination.”
“The outcome of a match isn’t certain until the very end.”
The overly straightforward remark left me with no rebuttal.
“Fine… do your best.”
I hadn’t decided on a destination yet, but I was thinking of revisiting that pet shop.
The bizarre creatures there had piqued my curiosity.
As another student stepped into the arena, we resumed our betting, guessing who would emerge victorious.