TLed by NolepGuy
Chapter 227
At dawn, in the estate where everyone was asleep.
Having outdrunk the Desmond Household, I was swinging my sword in the empty estate yard.
-Bang──!
It wasn’t an elegant sword dance.
It was a crude and monotonous sword dance. Even as a Sword Master, it was difficult to change ingrained habits all at once. To others, I must have appeared to be performing a clumsy sword dance.
-Swoosh.
Holding Tirbing in my hand, I wiped the sweat dripping down my forehead with the back of my hand and smiled lightly.
“It’s different.”
It was unmistakably different.
The sensation I felt.
The stability in my grip on the sword.
The mana coursing through the surroundings.
Sharpened to an extent incomparable to before, it was as though my entire body had become a weapon. Feeling the explosive strength surging through me, I smiled faintly.
“I might even stand a chance against an Apostle.”
Though not strong enough to challenge the ultimate boss of this world, it was reassuring to possess the strength of at least a mid-tier boss. With this, I could avoid an untimely death.
Under the condition of a favorable match-up, I could handle two Apostles.
With a typical match-up, I felt confident I could take on at least one Apostle.
Suppressing the smile of arrogance creeping onto my face, I shook my head.
“I must remain humble.”
There was still a long way to go.
Even as a Sword Master, there were varying levels and differences in experience. Becoming complacent could lead to an untimely death. After all, I had only managed to defeat Olaf because of a favorable match-up, so I couldn’t afford to be arrogant.
I couldn’t just think I could win. I had to win to afford any sense of composure. Reining in my rising shoulders, I exhaled calmly.
“Still.”
“I think I’ve become a teacher who wouldn’t embarrass a Disciple.”
Now that I had reached a level where I wouldn’t lose to Rowen, I felt it was okay to have some pride. Based on the novel’s perspective, I would now be considered a monster.
I imagined it would be written something like this: ‘The Knight of the Fallen Villainess.’
“What nonsense.”
Letting out an empty laugh, I recalled the upcoming events in my mind.
-The Academy Riot.
-Mikhail’s growth.
-Pascal’s appearance.
Pascal. A name I hadn’t thought of in over a year.
It had been a year since I sent the villain who manipulated people’s bodies and loved strange art to prison.
Though he appeared as a significant antagonist in the novel, thinking of him undergoing rehabilitation in prison to fill his empty bank account made me chuckle bitterly.
-Why are you only doing this to me!
He really was a good guy.
I felt I would never forget the benefactor who had helped me repay my debts. If not for me, he would probably be living grandly as an Archbishop by now.
Nodding, I thought of Mantis, who was enduring hardships in prison, and wished him well.
‘The next time we meet, I’ll make sure to put you in a collection jar.’
To be honest, Mikhail and Yuria still couldn’t handle an Archbishop. It was the same in the original work, and even now, an Archbishop’s strength was too overwhelming for mere Academy students to contend with.
Ruin had long since retired, and the Crown Prince only began to grow strong in the later parts of the novel, so their practical combat power was minimal.
At this point, the ranking of combat power would be Mikhail, Crown Prince, Ruin, and then Yuria.
They weren’t falling behind. In fact, they were growing even stronger than in the original timeline. While the explosive growth from overcoming hardships was slightly lacking, the steady progress made up for it, preventing them from lagging behind.
In particular, Mikhail had grown immensely since the last battle, and Yuria, having awakened as the Saintess, was expected to contribute significantly more to combat.
With Hanna at the Academy, Ruin’s absence could be sufficiently compensated for. And if push came to shove, Hans was available, so there was no lack of personnel for their positions.
Only one thing bothered me.
Mikhail’s sword hadn’t broken yet.
Recalling Mikhail’s worn-out sword, I sighed. I couldn’t understand why he was still carrying around that scrap metal.
He’s incredibly stubborn about the most unnecessary things.
“Sigh…”
Mikhail’s sword should have broken long ago. It was a sword that should have shattered when encountering the heretics. That event was necessary for him to learn to wield a sword suited to his physique and to let go of his stubbornness.
He was doing well for now, but that was only applicable to the current situation. As the novel progressed into its mid-section, the enemies they had to face grew stronger. Mikhail’s current sword imposed too many limitations.
Even considering the imminent High Priest of Oblivion, it wouldn’t hold up. Back then, Mikhail had become nothing more than a toy for that maniac.
I knew it. I knew how much Mikhail cherished that sword.
I also knew it was the first gift he had ever received from the Sister who cared for him like a biological father after he was taken in by the nunnery.
But what would change if he stubbornly clung to it and pressed forward? Smiling bitterly, I envisioned Mikhail’s figure in my mind.
“…”
I couldn’t think of a good solution.
If I could have broken his stubbornness, I would have done so long ago. Still, I hoped things would resolve well with only good outcomes.
Yuria had started awakening as the Saintess, and Mikhail was achieving adequate growth. All that was left was for me to live well.
At least now, I could breathe a sigh of relief.
Smiling faintly, I called out a familiar name in my heart.
-Status Window.
[Ricardo Lv. 92]
[Job]
Swordsman – (Sword Master)
Butler – (Household Master)
[Stats]
Physical Strength: 251↑
Stamina: 301↑
Agility: 223↑
Mana: 400↑
[Traits]
◈Offensive
[Swordsmanship Lv.7↑], [Combat Skills Lv.5], [Dagger Techniques Lv.5], [Greatsword Techniques Lv.5], [Spear Techniques Lv.5]
▣Defensive
[Poison Resistance Lv.5], [Fire Resistance Lv.4↑], [Magic Resistance Lv.5↑], [Lightning Resistance Lv.5↑], [Cold Resistance Lv.4↑], [Dark Magic Resistance Lv.6↑], [Curse Resistance Lv.5↑], [Mental Resistance Lv.7↑]
◉Skills
[Aura (A)]
[Genius of Weaponry (S)]
[Regeneration (A)] ▶ [Body Regeneration (S)]
[Limit Break (L)]
[Rain Thunder (L)]
[Rehabilitation’s Touch Lv.2]
└Vitality consumption is significantly reduced.
└Fundamental healing becomes possible.
It had been a long time since I last opened the Status Window.
It felt like ages since I last looked at it. When I first arrived in this another world, I checked it daily to confirm if my training methods were correct. But at some point, I stopped looking at it, taking the Possessor’s Privilege for granted.
It was a tool that showed what abilities I possessed, akin to a simple manual or a wrong answer notebook. While it had helped me a lot, it was now an element I rarely checked.
I couldn’t view the Status Windows of others, nor could I access information about them. Since this world didn’t have the concept of a Status Window, I naturally stopped using it. I had fully assimilated into this world, after all.
The mirror that reflected only me now displayed numbers different from the past.
Compared to a year ago, my growth had been steep, and in the meantime, my resistances had significantly strengthened.
With a satisfied smile, I swung my sword again.
To slowly adapt to the unfamiliar strength and to ensure the Young Lady would never use Dark Magic again, I diligently swung my sword.
And as morning broke.
-Air Raid Alarm!!!!
Once again, the estate echoed with a resounding shout of spirit.
*
-Tick.
The stopped clock hands began to move.
Yuria stepped onto the chair, replacing the battery in the broken clock with a satisfied smile.
-Tick.
-Tick.
With a satisfied smile at the now-moving clock hands, Yuria stepped down from the chair.
The current time was 10 PM.
Waking up alone in the hospital, Yuria carefully sat down after evenly covering James with the blanket he had tossed off in his sleep.
“Father.”
-…
“Are you sleeping?”
Yuria touched her Father’s cheek with a smile. Despite it being only 10 PM, Yuria’s Father was already asleep. He couldn’t win against his daughter’s insistence that he focus on recovery.
Leaning close to her snoring Father’s ear, Yuria whispered softly.
“Father, you know…”
“…”
“I think I’ve fallen for someone.”
-I know. I’m handsome.
“He’s really handsome.”
-Don’t cry.
“He’s incredibly kind.”
-Who is it? The one who made you like this.
“He takes great care of me.”
Yuria held her Father’s hand tightly as she spoke. His calloused hand bore the scars of the years he had spent raising her alone.
Tickling the rough palm of her Father, Yuria smiled and said.
“You know.”
And then, with a small laugh, she added.
“I think I really like him.”
A lot.
Yuria’s clock began to move.
*
Letters were being written on a white sheet of paper.
To the Noble of the Outskirts.
To the Academy’s Nemesis.
To the memories of someone who once thought of themselves as a Friend of the Past.
Olivia was writing a letter.
-You Are Invited.
Darbav anticipated that Olivia’s letter would become a topic of gossip and cause a great uproar.
-A ball will be held.
-Yes.
-At your house.
-No.
-Then at ours.
-Fine.
Desmond remains steadfast.
Olivia is part of Desmond.
Darbav’s plan to solidify Olivia’s position by hosting a ball in her name.
Watching the Young Lady sitting at the desk after a long time, writing invitations, I asked.
“Young Lady.”
“Eeeek…”
“Young Lady?”
The Young Lady, wiping her runny nose on the letter paper, glanced at me and gave a shy smile.
“Ricardo.”
“Yes.”
“I have no friends.”
Darbav was making the biggest misunderstanding.
“Here! Invitations.”
“Oh…”
Looking at the Young Lady’s invitations, I gave a bitter smile.
“Shall we send one to Hanna too?”
“Yes.”
“And to the Proprietress as well.”
“Let’s do that.”
“And…”
The Young Lady didn’t realize that she had no friends.