I Became the Academy’s Time-Limited Genius – Chapter 22

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Translated By Arcane Translations

Translator: Silverriver

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I checked Agnes’s face. She wore a rare expression of surprise. That’s how impressive the protagonist’s strike had been.

“The winner… is Lee Han.”

Professor Akdin announced the result, his voice barely concealing his tremor. Lee Han bowed his head to the defeated spearman from Class B, a gesture of respect.

Despite his loss, the spearman showed no signs of resentment or inferiority. Only a hint of awe and fear.

Nothing more.

I observed the protagonist’s sword as he returned to his seat. A blunt, academy-issued iron sword. It was deliberately designed to prevent serious injuries during sparring.

Yet, Lee Han had used it to sever a spear shaft. That was only possible because of his unique swordsmanship.

Thrusting, swinging, blocking – the fundamentals of swordsmanship. Even the most elaborate techniques, the kae (快) or the byeon (變), were ultimately based on these three principles.

In other words, if one couldn’t thrust, swing, or block, there was no point in wielding a sword. That’s why instructors always emphasized physical conditioning and horizontal strikes when teaching swordsmanship. They were the foundation.

Swordsmanship couldn’t exist without them.

In that sense, Lee Han was unusual. Most aspired to move beyond the basics.

Agnes, for example, followed a path that integrated magic with her swordsmanship, using magic to compensate for the sword’s limited range.

Erina, the future Sword Saint, would also develop her unique style, based on the fundamentals but transcending them. Her own unique sword.

Lee Han was different. His swordsmanship was confined to the basics. He couldn’t break free from the fundamental forms.

He thrust, swung, and blocked with his sword. Repeating those simple actions over and over.

Without any follow-up, without any noticeable variation.

What made his attacks effective was his overwhelming strength, the natural talent of a hero.

His thrusts were faster than lightning, his swings carried the weight of mountains, and his blocks were firmer than diamonds.

That alone was enough for Lee Han to win. Because he was the hero.

‘That won’t do.’

Such simplistic attacks wouldn’t be enough to defeat the future bosses. Especially not the Demon King.

The hero’s power was just a tool. Its true potential could only be realized when the wielder mastered its use.

“What in the world…?”

Regardless, it was enough to cause a stir. His single, decisive thrust had been too clean, too perfect.

The students, and even Professor Akdin, must have gained some insight from witnessing that strike.

Agnes stood up abruptly, her face filled with awe. She was blocking my view, so I frowned and said,

“Sit down, Agnes. Don’t be so impulsive.”

“But Deron, you saw that, didn’t you?”

“I did. So what?”

“….”

She seemed completely captivated. Understandably so. That power…

There was a reason people called him the hero.

But it wouldn’t do for Agnes to be led astray. That was a path only the hero, empowered by his unique gift, could follow.

Agnes had to forge her own path.

…Perhaps I should adjust her perspective.

“I understand your admiration. It was a clean strike. A swordsmanship I can’t help but acknowledge, even as a fellow swordsman.”

“Then why do you seem so unimpressed?”

“Because it’s a swordsmanship I can’t replicate.”

Agnes’s eyes widened. She seemed more surprised by my words than by the statement itself.

But it was the truth.

“There’s no technique, no variation. Just a simple thrust. That’s all.”

Yet, there was a single reason why Lee Han’s attack was so effective.

“Overwhelming power. I don’t know where it comes from, but that power is what makes his strikes so powerful.”

The immense power granted by the hero’s unique gift. I was likely the only one here who knew Lee Han was the hero.

How could they know something even he didn’t? Even Lee Han himself was unaware of his true nature, attributing his strength to mere talent.

“Only a monster could achieve that. Not a human. And I have no intention, nor the ability, to replicate a monster’s swordsmanship.”

I had intended to keep my voice low, but it seemed others had overheard. I could hear murmurs around me.

But it couldn’t be helped. The hero was a monster.

As evidenced by that single strike. If Agnes was impressed by that swordsmanship and decided to focus solely on a single technique, she would be doomed.

Her strength lay in her fluid, elegant style, interwoven with magic.

“Next, Agnes!”

Lee Han’s spar ended, and it was Agnes’s turn. I called out to her as she walked towards the arena,

“Don’t mind other people’s swordsmanship. Wield your own.”

She had looked a bit tense, as if captivated by Lee Han’s display, so I offered her some advice.

Fortunately, her expression relaxed slightly. Agnes bowed her head and said she would be back.

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“Don’t mind other people’s swordsmanship. Wield your own.”

Agnes flinched inwardly. His advice felt like he was seeing right through her.

‘Just who are you…’

She had been subconsciously comparing herself to Lee Han’s swordsmanship. How had he noticed and addressed her thoughts so precisely?

Agnes found Deron intriguing.

His words had eased her anxieties. She drew a blunt sword from the rack in the arena. A practice sword with a dull edge and rounded tip, designed for sparring, minimizing the risk of lethal injury.

It was still powerful enough to knock someone unconscious.

The image of Lee Han’s swordsmanship flickered in her mind, then dissipated as Deron’s words echoed through her thoughts. Agnes bit her lip, focusing on her opponent.

With a slight twinge of pain, her opponent’s weapons came into focus.

The same type of weapon as hers, but shorter, and each with a single edge – twin swords. So someone in Class B used twin swords.

“I’m Iphin.”

“Agnes.”

“Begin!”

A brief exchange of names, followed by Professor Akdin’s call.

Iphin moved first, her movements swift and silent.

Fast, but slower than Deron or the Black Blood Wyrm. A speed Agnes could handle.

Clang!

Agnes parried the blow and channeled her mana. The air around her grew cold. A chilling mist emanated from her, and the arena floor beneath her feet turned to ice.

“Ugh!”

Iphin faltered at the sudden change in terrain and tested the ground beneath her feet. She wouldn’t be able to move as freely on the slippery surface.

That was Agnes’s intention.

She channeled mana into her legs and charged towards Iphin. Unaffected by the icy surface she had created.

Frosty afterimages lingered along her sword’s trajectory.

But Agnes had overlooked something.

Clang!

She hadn’t properly accounted for the twin swords. Two blades, shorter than a standard sword, but capable of swift, consecutive attacks.

Iphin blocked Agnes’s sword with her right blade, then swung her left.

Slash

Agnes, caught off guard, twisted her body to avoid the unexpected attack. But she couldn’t fully evade it. A sharp pain shot through her thigh.

“…?”

She registered the pain but ignored it. Agnes tightened her grip on her sword. It had been a mistake, her first time facing twin swords.

And she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Iphin smirked and created distance between them.

Agnes gritted her teeth and channeled mana into the ground. Sharp icicles erupted from the icy surface, their tips sharpened by her mana. She manipulated the icicles, sending them flying towards Iphin.

Clang! Clang!

Iphin deflected the icicles with her twin swords, then stomped her foot on the ground. The icy surface shattered, sending shards of ice flying.

She stomped several more times, channeling Aura into her feet. The Icicle Field couldn’t withstand Iphin’s Aura and crumbled.

‘Something feels strange.’

A sensation emanated from her wounded thigh. A grazing blow shouldn’t have had this effect.

Her vision blurred, and the ice shards seemed hazy. A wave of nausea washed over her, a sickening feeling she’d never experienced before.

“gasp… cough!”

Agnes felt as if she were suffocating, her airway constricted. She coughed, but no blood came up. She had been perfectly fine just moments ago.

Why was this happening? She couldn’t understand it.

Her vision swam, her body felt heavy. She could barely stand, supporting herself with her sword.

Her gaze fell to her thigh. The wound was turning black.

“Poison…”

Agnes finally realized Iphin’s sword had been coated in poison.

She glared at Iphin, who simply smirked, as if mocking her delayed realization.

Rage surged through Agnes. That bastard was smirking after using poison in a spar?

She could report Iphin to Professor Akdin for using a poisoned blade.

But Agnes didn’t. Instead, she tightened her grip on her sword.

Using poison so openly meant Iphin was confident she wouldn’t face any punishment. And reporting her to the professor would be admitting defeat.

At least one hit.

She wanted to land at least one blow. With that thought, Agnes steadied her trembling hand on her sword.

Iphin didn’t charge. She held a practice sword in her right hand, her left blade concealed, and slowly approached.

Agnes couldn’t formulate a strategy. She didn’t have the strength to think, let alone execute a plan.

Iphin, completely unconcerned, walked towards her as if taking a leisurely stroll.

“Frozen, are we?”

Iphin aimed her sword at Agnes and taunted her.

But Agnes didn’t respond…

…but focused solely on her movements. As she stepped within range, Agnes parried her sword and shifted her footing.

Crack!

The world around her transformed into a realm of ice, centered on where she stood. Within this frozen domain, Agnes charged, slamming her body into Iphin.

“Oof!”

Iphin stumbled, thrown off balance by the ice. It wasn’t a serious blow, but her face contorted in anger.

She must have been humiliated, being pushed back so easily by a poisoned opponent.

But Agnes thought,

‘I want to win.’

She wanted to win, even under these unfair conditions. She craved victory, yearned to seize it.

Just like Deron Philasia.

She desired to win.

Agnes’s blue eyes glinted. Iphin approached, her twin swords, undoubtedly still coated in poison, raised in fury. Another dose of poison could be dangerous.

Even her mental fortitude had its limits. Agnes was on the verge of collapse.

But even so…

Agnes adjusted her grip on her sword.

Resolutely.

Thud!

As if deciding she’d seen enough, Iphin closed the distance and lunged, swinging her twin swords low.

Clang!

The swords plunged into the ice, frozen in place.

“What the—?!”

Iphin struggled to pull her swords free, half-embedded in the ice, frozen mid-lunge. Agnes looked down at her impassively.

Her heart turned to ice, mana surging through her frozen veins. The Ice Empress, seeking to command and envelop the world in her frozen domain.

The Empress gazed at the one who had dared to touch her and muttered,

“Icicle Knight.”

From the ice-covered world, the Empress’s knights emerged. Clad in ice armor, they showed no mercy to the one who had dared to challenge their liege.

Thud!

They seized Iphin by the hair and slammed her head against the ground.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

Thud!

“Gasp!”

In a matter of moments, the arena floor was stained with blood and ice. Iphin lay unconscious.

What those in the training grounds witnessed…

…was an Empress, her face an icy mask, her actions brutal yet chillingly serene.

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Is she possessed? What do you guys think?