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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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This damned regression might actually offer a chance to escape. The thought made Egenir practically giddy.
‘I feel like doing a little jig.’
[T/N: jig is like a dance for u non american folks]
A way to properly utilize the accumulated knowledge rivaling even the teachers.
Pinnacle and Trait.
These two essential factors were the hidden pieces unlocked by the 8th regression. Had he known this, he would have gladly died repeatedly to reach the 8th turn sooner, skipping all the other bullshit.
“Ah, beautiful weather.”
The second day had arrived.
Shelton, rubbing sleep from his eyes, urged him to grab breakfast.
Everything was perfect.
The boys’ dormitory. This place, which should reek of all things unpleasant, felt strangely comforting. He headed towards the dining hall, a humble space crammed with low-ranking nobles and commoners, devoid of substantial funding.
“Potatoes.”
The same damn breakfast he’d eaten until he was sick of it.
Pathetic potatoes, a meager serving of bacon, and soup. He accepted the familiar meal with a satisfied nod and sat at a table. Shelton, who usually kept his distance, sat directly across from him, his affinity clearly boosted by the Dragon Swordsmanship incident and the confrontation with the Central Royal Noble faction.
“Well then, bon appétit.”
Egenir’s expression had grown increasingly grim with each regression, usually displaying a detached, gloomy demeanor. It was the typical air of a low-ranking noble whose life was essentially screwed, a common loner trope.
Most people ignored him, but his newfound cheerfulness, fueled by the possibility of escape, drew the attention of several other boys.
“Nice to meet you. You’re Egenir, right?”
“Yep, I’m Egenir. The one who wants to escape this school more than anyone.”
While he’d said escape, the other boys interpreted it as ambition.
‘Is he aiming for early graduation?’
Nothing left to learn.
There was a special provision for third-year students to graduate early after completing the first semester. Early graduation guaranteed an elite career path for even commoners, and with some luck, even a noble title depending on the kingdom.
Egenir, barely a step above a commoner himself, saw the potential to rise above his meager barony.
“Ambitious, huh?”
“A swordsman should dream big, right?”
Having declared early graduation as his goal, he attracted a group of low-ranking nobles and commoners, all brimming with youthful ambition.
Egenir, who had openly challenged the Central Royal Noble faction and possessed the rare Dragon Swordsmanship skill despite his apparent lack of a trait, had become the talk of the town.
“To think you’d fight Sestern on the first day. Impressive.”
“Sestern? Ah, that pig?”
“You’re the only one who’d call a Count’s son a pig.”
“So what? I’m not afraid of some brat throwing his weight around.”
Uncommon ambition.
The sight of him smiling while eating the dry, flavorless potato salad, a meal fit for commoners, impressed them.
‘What’s so impressive? More amazing things are coming.’
Egenir swirled the potato salad with his fork, observing them.
“You learned Dragon Swordsmanship through self-study?”
He’d only told Cecilia about that. Which meant she’d told others…
‘Hmm, the other girls must have been bothering her.’
Cecilia, aspiring to become student council president by uniting the commoner and low-ranking noble factions, had to build strong relationships. When asked how Egenir, the current hot topic, had acquired Dragon Swordsmanship, she must have relayed his explanation.
‘Of course, she wouldn’t reveal the secret of the mana circuit method.’
If that got out, the entire academy, not just the freshmen, would be in an uproar. With her affinity at 37, she wouldn’t divulge such a secret.
Egenir simply smiled and nodded.
“That’s right.”
“Is it something you can learn on your own?”
“No, my old master told me it’s an impossible feat, a realm beyond self-teaching.”
“But it’s true.”
Unless Egenir suddenly went crazy and declared, “I regressed eight times and learned Dragon Swordsmanship in a few of them,” the only explanation was self-study.
His usual cheat code whenever he used previously learned skills, [Self-taught].
Those two words usually quelled any objections. If they questioned him further, they’d be admitting their own inability to learn skills through self-study.
“Even for a first-year…Well, that Ella girl’s swordsmanship is amazing too.”
“Idiot, she’s from the Gainz Count family.”
The Gainz Count family.
The family that birthed Dragon Swordsmanship.
The descendants of the one who created the dragon-slaying swordsmanship, whether it was the founder or a few generations later, didn’t matter to Egenir. He could only picture Ella becoming the Hero, surrounded by nobles.
‘…That bitch.’
The mere thought infuriated him. He’d felt a kinship with her when they were both traitless, diligently raising her affinity. He hadn’t pursued her with the same fervor as the other heroines, but he’d shown considerable interest, especially after mastering Dragon Swordsmanship…and then, as soon as she became the Hero…
[You and I are different.]
…she’d cut him off.
Their affinity hadn’t even reached 50, so they hadn’t even gotten close to…well, close. She’d dumped him before he even had a chance.
“Damn it.”
“Huh? Do you have something against the Gainz Count family?”
He could have said he had something against Ella herself. The memory of the 2nd regression, where he’d been betrayed before even getting a chance, was still vivid.
“Maybe it’s a rivalry thing. The Gainz family, after all.”
Another student chimed in, nodding sagely, attributing it to the rivalry between swordsmen. The Gainz family was the origin of Dragon Swordsmanship, so it made sense for there to be a rivalry.
“A true swordsman.”
“Not satisfied even after winning.”
Winning?
He’d won. His affinity had risen slightly, and a win was a win. But…
‘Swordsmanship level 8.’
A significant gap compared to his current Dragon Swordsmanship level 2.
‘Technically, swordsmanship is level 1, and Dragon Swordsmanship is level 2.’
Swordsmanship, unlike magic, was a skill ingrained in the body, not the mind. A weak foundation meant everything would crumble. Egenir had learned this the hard way through his regressions.
‘Without physical training, it’s all useless.’
No matter how much magic or alchemy he threw at them, suddenly getting stabbed by a crazy girl was far more terrifying than any monster. He had to be prepared to defend himself with magic, then alchemy, then swordsmanship if necessary.
As a traitless nobody, Egenir had prioritized swordsmanship, and that hadn’t changed.
‘Swordsmanship has one major advantage.’
Those cheesy martial arts novels went on about the sword being the king of all weapons, but give him a sword and pit him against a spearman of equal skill, and he’d get his head skewered. Swordsmanship had one simple, undeniable advantage.
‘Easy to carry.’
He couldn’t effectively use magic or alchemy with a sword, but…
‘When magic and alchemy are exhausted…’
…a sword could protect him.
And it was easy to carry. He needed a staff for magic in his left hand and a bag full of potions for alchemy on his back. Could he fight with a spear or some other large weapon while carrying all that? Absolutely not.
Even a Weapon Master could only wield two weapons at a time, not a sword, spear, bow, and everything else. He only had two hands, and for close combat, a sword was an excellent choice. Especially in an environment where he could easily acquire Dragon Swordsmanship.
‘Magic is easy to use with the left hand, too.’
As a right-handed person, Egenir was grateful that he could use magic equally well with his left hand. As a traitless nobody, he had to be a multi-class entertainer, juggling magic, swordsmanship, and alchemy.
“Let’s go!”
Feeling a mix of melancholy from old memories and optimism for the future, Egenir finished his breakfast and headed to his first class. Unlike the first day, the first class was swordsmanship.
‘From now on, the first class will always be swordsmanship.’
Morning training, touted as beneficial for mental discipline even for aspiring mages and alchemists. Students gathered in their respective factions, and Egenir stood silently among a large group of boys.
‘They probably want me as their crazy guy.’
The low-ranking nobles and commoners couldn’t afford to provoke the Central Royal Noble faction. They needed a shield, and Egenir, the certified lunatic, was perfect for deflecting any trouble.
‘A devious plan for such young kids.’
Egenir, a veteran of countless regressions, found their scheming amusing.
‘Well, it’s not their fault.’
It was the fault of the events that triggered the conflicts.
“Did you sleep well, lowly peasant?”
And there he was. The pig.
Sestern, accompanied by a posse of similarly dressed nobles.
“I slept well, yes.”
Even the swordsmanship instructor treated the Central Royal Noble faction with caution. Sestern had interrupted the class, but no one dared to object.
“The Talfon family is so rustic, they seem out of place in this academy, like a hedgehog in a ballroom.”
“What do you mean?”
“I pity you for acting like that yesterday.”
His entourage snickered loudly.
“Ah.”
Sestern must have been humiliated by the rumors circulating after yesterday’s incident. He was here for revenge and to reclaim his honor.
“That’s right.”
Egenir agreed readily.
“Of course, it’s right. You’ve probably never been to a grand royal party or a high-ranking noble’s mansion.”
The group of commoners and low-ranking nobles who had gathered around Egenir began to disperse, distancing themselves.
“That’s true.”
He simply nodded.
“So, I’d like to offer you some…therapy, for your hedgehog-like discomfort.”
Egenir feigned confusion.
“A commoner once told me, ‘A beating is the best cure for madness.’”
Egenir understood.
“You want to hit me?”
“Hit you? Think of it as noblesse oblige, a noble’s duty to help a fellow noble in need.”
The others nodded in agreement.
‘Is this guy crazy?’
Challenging Egenir, who possessed Dragon Swordsmanship, a high-level skill unattainable for first-years?
Swordsmanship classes included sparring sessions, which the Central Royal Noble faction used to pummel and humiliate commoners. Noble children aspiring to knighthood had access to excellent instructors from a young age, while commoners trained with retired mercenaries or soldiers.
Swordsmanship Level: 5.
Lower than Ella, but still high for a first-year. He was confident.
“Very well.”
Egenir readily accepted the challenge.
Horfin, the swordsmanship instructor who had almost screwed him over by telling Spenny about the Dragon Swordsmanship, watched with interest.
“However…”
Egenir smiled wickedly.
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Thanks for the TL!