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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Silverriver
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The Imperial capital was brightly lit at night. Magically generated light illuminated the streets, shimmering like waves. The vast cityscape, filled with various buildings, and the soft starlight gently descending from the high sky.
A breathtaking sight.
At this hour, when most were asleep, I walked with Rebecca, the elven slave following behind us.
“You handled that rather smoothly.”
“Causing a scene wouldn’t benefit my family.”
Duke Philasia had agreed to my proposal without a second thought. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but the important thing was that he had paid for the elf.
I simply showed the auctioneer the communication crystal and said the payment would arrive shortly. That was enough.
The auctioneer had sent us off with a beaming smile. If I had made such a request, he would have never let us leave.
It was a stark reminder of the Philasia Dukedom’s influence within the Empire. The auctioneer wouldn’t have acted that way unless he was certain the Duke would pay.
“So… what will you do with this elf?”
Rebecca avoided using the word “slave,” as if it were forbidden, her distaste evident.
“I’ll take her with me for now. If necessary, I can enroll her in the academy.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Yes. Elves are naturally gifted.”
Elves, who lived in the forests for centuries, possessed unique talents from birth. Elemental spirits, different from magic.
Spirits that only a handful of humans could control. Elves possessed them instinctively.
“The problem is her condition.”
I glanced back at the elf. Christina followed silently, a collar around her neck.
“Hey, Elf.”
She looked up at my call, her eyes like empty pools. Her lifeless blonde hair was a stark contrast to Rebecca’s vibrant gold. Rebecca had healed her wounds with divine power, but I could only imagine what she had endured since being captured.
“What’s your name?”
“…”
The elf stared at me but didn’t speak, as if her lips were sewn shut.
I knew her name, but I asked anyway. Asking her name meant acknowledging her as a living being, not just a slave.
But the elf remained silent. I didn’t know if she couldn’t speak or simply refused to.
What was certain was that Christina didn’t want me to speak to her. At least, that’s what her eyes told me.
I granted her wish and remained silent.
As we reached the academy, Rebecca put her necklace back on. Her shimmering golden hair and radiant golden eyes returned to their ordinary appearance.
Her voice changed as well, completely transforming back into Adele.
“I’ll take her as my maid for now.”
“I trust you won’t do anything… untoward.”
“It’s strange to hear the Saintess express trust in me.”
Rebecca, or rather, Adele, glared at me.
“I’m not trusting you. I’m trusting your noble upbringing.”
“Of course.”
She continued to glare at me before heading into the Trea Dormitory. She must have been tired, given the late hour.
“I’m a little sleepy myself.”
I looked down at the elf. A mark resembling a shackle was etched onto her wrist.
‘A slave crest.’
A mark branded onto all enslaved members of other races. Its power had been amplified after several slave owners were killed by their elven slaves.
With this crest, the elf couldn’t do anything without my permission. Perhaps basic bodily functions were the exception?
The crest also granted a form of compulsion. For example, if I used the crest to order her to kiss the ground, she would have to obey.
Because she was a slave.
But I had no intention of doing so. I wasn’t interested in the elf, and I didn’t want to further antagonize the Saintess. If she knew I had used the slave crest, she would never speak to me again.
I had used my image and the auction as an excuse to create a connection with her, to initiate contact. If my reputation plummeted further, there would be no turning back.
‘This is such a pain in the ass.’
I sighed and looked at the elf. She was undeniably beautiful, a true beauty that could topple nations.
But she was like a flower on a cliff face, untouchable.
Content with simply admiring her, I led Christina into the Trea Dormitory.
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“Today’s class is sparring.”
Since our trip to the auction, classes had consisted solely of lectures. For nearly a month, I’d felt like I was back in high school.
Wait, was I even in high school back then?
It felt similar, anyway.
“You will be sparring against designated opponents from Class B, so remember your pairings.”
Professor Akdin called out the names one by one. I twirled my pencil, indifferent.
I could just lose using my “sickly nobleman” act. No one could question my loss if I blamed it on my health.
“Deron Philasia versus Ruberic Caius.”
Hmm?
This… changed things.
I had completely forgotten about him, since he hadn’t made any moves in the past few months.
He was still at the academy?
Well, he was one of the main bosses.
Come to think of it, the festival was approaching. According to the original story, Ruberic was supposed to periodically antagonize the protagonist.
But because of me, he had been lying low, and I’d lost track of the story’s progression.
I had even purchased Christina, whom the protagonist’s party was supposed to rescue.
We moved to the training arena as instructed by Professor Akdin. The Class B students were already there.
I looked for Ruberic among them.
Where was he?
Ruberic was usually hard to miss. A robust physique, tall stature, and handsome features.
He would be among the top-ranked in Iliad Academy in terms of appearance alone.
But he was nowhere to be seen.
I scratched my head and sat down in the spectator seats. One student from each class stood on the arena floor, with Professor Akdin acting as the referee.
That was the standard procedure for sparring matches. A referee was always present.
As I watched the spar, Agnes approached.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tolerable. You?”
“I’m starting to see color in my mana.”
I feigned surprise. I knew she would reach the intermediate level eventually, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
Jeolyeong must have been a good influence. A good weapon enhanced her talent, accelerating her mana sensitivity.
Grow stronger, Agnes. Grow stronger and become my shield. I just wanted to live a quiet life.
Meanwhile, our protagonist stepped onto the arena floor.
Lee Han, the future hero.
He stood with his sword drawn, assuming his stance. His opponent wielded a spear.
A difference in range. Lee Han tried to close the distance quickly, but his opponent’s defense was solid.
“The Class B students are strong.”
I muttered to myself. This was the virtuous cycle of Iliad Academy.
The Class B students were geniuses in their own right, yet they hadn’t made it into Class A. It was a blow to their pride.
There were two possible outcomes:
They could overcome their setback and strive to improve.
Or they could stagnate, accepting their current position.
Lee Han’s current opponent was the former. I could see the calluses on his spear-holding hand.
He must have trained relentlessly. Especially with a spear.
Agnes, also noticing this, watched the spar with wide eyes. A thrust forward with a spear was called chalchang. Rotating the spear inwards to block an opponent’s weapon was called nachang. Rotating it outwards was called lanchang.
Together, these formed the basic spear stance, lannachal.
A weapon wielded with proper fundamentals never forgot its roots. Whether it was a sword or a spear.
Professor Akdin had a slight smile on his face. He favored those with solid fundamentals.
And our protagonist, Lee Han, had mastered the fundamentals like no other. Or rather, he would rise to the rank of hero through fundamentals alone.
Lee Han gripped his sword. His aura shifted, different from before.
Pure and clean. An aura of such clarity it seemed impossible for it to belong to a swordsman.
His opponent, the spearman, glared at Lee Han, instinctively sensing something approaching.
“That won’t be enough.”
I muttered unconsciously.
But instincts alone weren’t enough. I had seen the protagonist’s technique countless times in the novel’s descriptions.
Formless Swordsmanship, First Style.
Swiftness.
No lightning, no sparks. Just a clean, precise thrust.
But its speed was unmatched.
Slice
The spear shaft was severed in an instant. The opponent stared blankly at his broken spear, unaware of when it had happened.
Lee Han sheathed his sword.
Agnes gaped at the scene. Even she hadn’t seen that strike.
But I had seen it. Thanks to the Genius trait.
A single line, aimed precisely at the spear shaft.
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