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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Heh heh… I knew you’d do that, you idiot. You could have avoided getting hurt.”
He snapped his fingers, and three burly men emerged from the shadows. They were tall and muscular, clearly not to be trifled with.
Why had he called for reinforcements? They weren’t here for a friendly chat.
He was after Lianna, sleeping peacefully in the tent.
“Think you can handle this?”
“What’s there to handle? I’m just retrieving my runaway wife.”
His smug grin made me sick. Dealing with a beast in human form was always a hassle. I decided not to waste my breath.
“You could have just given her up nicely…”
“Is she an object? And even if she were, she’s not yours.”
“…You’re not making this easy. Rough him up and search the tent.”
He gestured to his companions. One of them brought him a chair, and the other two advanced on me.
“How did you bring them here?”
“They’re students, same as you.”
“…With those physiques?”
“They’re also my servants.”
So they were students. I noticed they were all wearing bracelets.
Servants with those builds? That seemed unethical. They were all well over six feet tall, their muscles bulging, far too developed for academy students. They looked more like thugs.
“Enough talk. Hand over my wife.”
“Get lost.”
My blunt refusal seemed to enrage him. His face turned as red as it had earlier.
The largest of the three cracked his knuckles and approached me.
A familiar feeling. My heart pounded, my senses heightened. It was the same feeling I’d experienced countless times, being beaten to a pulp.
Learn by getting hit, they’d said.
I’d endured hundreds of blows every day, unable to defend myself. Finally, after 17 days, I’d managed to dodge a single attack. A lucky dodge, but a dodge nonetheless.
They’d deemed me worthy of further training, doubling the number of blows I received.
I’d been beaten with wooden blocks, then iron rods, until my bones broke.
Finally, they’d moved on to blades. There was no end to this training. They wouldn’t stop until I was on the verge of death from blood loss.
Knives, daggers, spears, chakrams—I’d experienced them all. And only after enduring this brutal training had I been allowed to learn the art of assassination.
I was a survivor. I’d been trained to kill.
And these fools, who clearly lacked any sense of restraint, were standing before me.
They were dead.
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‘Where is my wife? Heh heh…’
Derek chuckled, feeling lucky.
He’d managed to form a team with the students he’d bribed, securing a good grade on the midterm evaluation. And now, he’d found her.
He’d been with many women, but none as beautiful as she was. Her long, sky-blue hair, her mesmerizing emerald eyes—no jewel could compare.
And the fact that she was a commoner only boosted his confidence. Marrying a nobleman like him was a chance for her to climb the social ladder.
Her rejections didn’t matter. He saw them as attempts to increase her value. Her aloofness only made her more desirable.
Until she’d taken another man’s arm.
‘I’m your husband! This is adultery!’
He didn’t say it out loud, mindful of the other students, but his rage simmered.
And the man whose arm she’d taken was Jenison, the scoundrel. She preferred ‘him’?
He remembered the rumors about her being bullied by Jenison, and a thought struck him.
She was being coerced. That was the only explanation. She wouldn’t choose a washed-up commoner over him.
He had to save her, to rescue her from Jenison’s clutches.
He’d gathered his strongest teammates and tracked them down.
She wasn’t there, but she must be hiding in the tent.
But first, he had to teach Jenison a lesson for stealing his wife. He’d break his limbs and leave him for the monsters.
‘And then… heh heh…’
He imagined the pleasures to come, rubbing his groin.
He started towards the tent, when…
“Aaargh!!”
“What the…?!”
It wasn’t Jenison’s voice he’d heard, but one of his teammates.
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Slow.
Incredibly slow.
His right fist, propelled by brute force rather than skill, arced towards my face in a predictable trajectory.
I sidestepped easily, conjured a dagger, and grazed the inside of his wrist.
He shrieked as his hand went limp, and everyone stared at us.
I lunged, and he, recovering quickly, raised his other arm to defend himself, backing away.
His size forced me to attack from below.
He leaned forward, trying to block my low attack, but he was focused on the wrong hand.
I conjured a sickle in my right hand and swung horizontally, aiming for his legs.
Thwack—
His face contorted in surprise and pain as his leg buckled. I yanked on the sickle, pulling him off balance, and he fell backwards. I landed on top of him, pinning him down.
He couldn’t break free, one hand useless, and I drove the dagger into his vital points.
His throat, his liver, and finally, his heart.
He died without a sound, his eyes wide with shock and terror. The other two stared at me, their faces pale with fear.
“He… He killed him!”
“Murderer! Where are the professors?!”
I ignored their shouts. They’d be silenced soon enough.
I turned towards the remaining two, advancing slowly, when I felt a presence behind me.
“Another one to collect…”
An unfamiliar voice. I instinctively threw a dagger, but he dodged easily.
He was focused on the dead student, and as the moonlight illuminated his face, I realized he was a professor.
Professor Fred, the one who’d left Hildegarde in charge of the infirmary.
The other students recognized him, too, and started shouting, demanding he arrest me, the murderer.
But he just looked at me, a puzzled expression on his face, then hoisted the dead student onto his back.
“B… But you’re a professor!”
“And this is a midterm evaluation. I’m here to provide medical assistance.”
“He’s… He’s dead!”
“He’s not. Look at the wounds.”
We looked closer, and the wound on his heart was gone.
“Didn’t you listen to the instructions? The bracelets protect you from fatal injuries.”
“But… why did he…”
“They also induce unconsciousness. No rules have been broken.”
He told us to continue with the evaluation, and I decided to do just that.
The other two students, sensing the shift in the situation, ran, abandoning Derek. I didn’t bother chasing them.
I approached Derek, who was still lying on the ground, trembling. He looked pathetic, his body shaking, a sour smell emanating from him.
I wiped the blood from my dagger and spoke, my voice low and menacing.
“Young Master Derek, did you hear that?”
“I… I’m… sorry…”
“No one dies here.”
He tried to remove his bracelet, but I slammed my dagger into his hand, pinning it to the ground.
He squealed like a pig, and I pinned his other hand, then slapped him hard across his tear-streaked face.
“Honestly, I want to kill you.”
“Eep!”
“But I’m curious about something.”
“…?”
“What constitutes a ‘life-threatening’ injury?”
Professor Fred’s appearance had confirmed that we were being monitored. But could they see everything?
What if someone was poisoned? What if a pre-existing condition flared up? What if they couldn’t see the amount of blood we lost? Was this evaluation truly safe?
As I explained this to Derek, his face paled, the sour smell intensifying as he wet himself.
“I’m going to poison you.”
“W… What?!”
“Don’t worry. The antidote is readily available.”
He looked relieved for a moment, then his face paled again as I continued.
I’d tie him to a tree, build a small fire nearby to create smoke, and conceal him. Would the professors be able to find him? Would the bracelet protect him from the poison?
He fainted.
It was time to wake Lianna.
I tied Derek to a tree and poked Lianna’s cheek until she woke up. I’d let her decide what to do with him.
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Brutal