I Became the Academy’s Time-Limited Genius – Chapter 42

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Translated By Arcane Translations

Translator: Silverriver

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Lee Han raised his sword, assuming a stance honed through thousands, tens of thousands, of repetitions. He swallowed hard.

Deron Philasia. The man before him beckoned with a flick of his wrist.

“Come at me.”

A taunt, an invitation to attack. But Lee Han didn’t fall for it.

‘If I rush in, my stance will crumble.’

Like an ancient tree felled in mere seconds, a carefully cultivated stance could be broken in an instant.

So Lee Han took a deep breath, focusing on composure, the most fundamental aspect of swordsmanship.

He wouldn’t be swayed by Deron’s provocation. He would stand firm. Countless hours of practice were meaningless if he faltered in a real fight. It would negat e all his efforts.

Lee Han refused to let that happen. Like during the Morax subjugation. He had lost his composure before that unfamiliar demon.

A swordsman without composure lost control of their blade.

‘I should have been there, instead of Agnes.’

A Magic Swordsman taking the place of a swordsman. Agnes had filled his role perfectly.

That fact gnawed at him.

Fighting spirit.

The burning desire to become stronger.

These turbulent emotions sink below his composure. He had to focus on the opponent before him.

Deron Philasia. The man who had beheaded Morax, who had guided Agnes.

Deron’s aura brushed against him, a chilling sensation. Deron’s black eyes had always unnerved him, ever since their first meeting.

A strange, unsettling feeling. He trembled, as if facing a different species.

A fist. Deron had chosen to use his fists, not his sword, his primary weapon.

Lee Han gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his trembling. Deron’s choice meant one of two things: either he was underestimating him, or he was showing him consideration.

If this were their first meeting, Lee Han would have assumed it was the former. Deron’s reputation within the academy was less than stellar.

But having spent time with him during the Spring Festival and the Morax subjugation, Lee Han could make a more objective assessment.

‘He’s showing me consideration.’

Deron was being considerate. He knew Lee Han wouldn’t stand a chance against his swordsmanship.

So he was handicapping himself.

Lee Han didn’t like that.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Deron shifted his weight, his foot landing with a heavy thud. A clear sign he was about to attack. Lee Han’s eyes narrowed, focusing on Deron’s movements.

“Then I’ll come to you.”

Whoosh!

A burst of air. Deron’s fist shot towards him. A light, swift jab.

Lee Han ducked, surprised by the speed. His gaze shifted to Deron’s other fist.

It took time for a punch to be retracted. So if Deron intended a follow-up attack, it would come from that hand.

Lee Han’s assessment was correct. The problem was…

Grab

“You might as well announce your intentions.”

His opponent was Deron. Someone who defied conventional wisdom. A monster beyond his comprehension.

Deron opened his extended hand and grabbed the back of Lee Han’s neck. Simultaneously, he reached up and placed his other hand on top of Lee Han’s head.

Wham!

“Ugh!”

Deron brought his knee up, slamming it into Lee Han’s abdomen. Lee Han gasped, the unexpected blow hitting him with full force.

“A swordsman… losing to a fistfighter.”

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Deron’s fists sliced through the air. Lee Han barely dodged them, trying to create an opening for a counter attack.

But Deron wasn’t that easy to deal with. He was proficient in both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat.

That meant he knew the optimal distance for both.

Step

‘At this rate…!’

He couldn’t properly swing his sword at this distance. Even if he did, it would lack power. Lee Han quickly retreated, hoping to regain his composure and create some distance.

But…

“You think I’ll let you?”

Deron wasn’t that naive. He closed the distance instantly, negating Lee Han’s retreat.

‘His palm?’

Deron’s open hand filled his vision. Lee Han tried to regain his sight…

Wham!

but Deron seized the opportunity. His fist connected with Lee Han’s abdomen, the same spot he had hit with his knee.

But Lee Han wasn’t going down that easily. He twisted his body at the last moment, lessening the impact, and simultaneously used the pommel of his sword to strike Deron’s arm.

While not the blade itself, the pommel was a decent bludgeon. Deron winced and pulled his arm back.

“Hah…”

“Your guard is down.”

As Deron retracted his arm, he struck Lee Han’s jaw with his other hand, exploiting the brief moment when Lee Han had gasped for air.

He had perfectly timed his attack.

“You too.”

Lee Han wasn’t one to take a hit lying down. If he was hit in the jaw, he had to retaliate.

Wham!

He kicked Deron in the head. A clear, resounding thud. Deron stumbled backward.

“….”

A momentary pause, unspoken yet mutual. They exchanged glances.

“More?”

Deron spoke first. He brushed back his disheveled hair, now covered in dust from Lee Han’s kick. He brushed off the dust and looked at Lee Han, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“You don’t look like you can continue.”

“hah… hah…”

He was right. Lee Han was gasping for breath, struggling to move. It had been a purely physical fight, without mana.

Deron hadn’t even used his sword. He had used his fists, a weapon Lee Han hadn’t known he possessed.

Yet, Lee Han had lost.

Decisively.

He refused to accept it. He forced himself to stand, despite the overwhelming difference in skill, the gnawing feeling of certain defeat.

He gripped his sword, focusing on his composure, picturing a calm, still lake.

“Again.”

Deron chuckled at his persistence, his fists clenching.

“That’s the spirit.”

Deron lunged again, his footfalls heavy as thunder, yet his fists moved like the wind. Lee Han’s eyes narrowed.

He charged, no longer willing to wait.

‘Distance.’

The previous exchange had taught him one thing. The distance between a fistfighter and a swordsman. Something Deron knew, but he hadn’t.

As long as he maintained a distance, preventing Deron from closing in…

That was all he needed.

Whoosh!

His sword extended, maintaining a distance beyond Deron’s reach. The blade connected.

Deron ducked, avoiding the attack, then tried to close in. But Lee Han refused to yield ground.

Thwack!

“Ugh.”

Lee Han’s sword blocked Deron’s advance. Deron winced, crossing his arms to deflect the blow.

‘More.’

Lee Han pressed his attack, preventing Deron from approaching. A continuous assault, as if unbroken momentum was key. His sword relentlessly targeted Deron.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

His strikes weren’t precise, but Deron’s eyes followed his every move, his gaze darting back and forth, as if determined to track every motion.

But Lee Han didn’t care. His body screamed in protest. He struggled to breathe, his eyes burning, his arms numb. His muscles were at their limit from the relentless assault.

Yet, he pushed himself further. If his attack faltered, even for a moment, Deron would break through.

Deron’s sharp, black eyes confirmed his suspicions. He wouldn’t break. Even in a spar, he wanted to win.

Formless Sword Style, Second Form: Chain

One strike creating another. Even if his sword only cut through air. His arm felt like it was about to break. He knew he was at his limit.

Crack

A sickening sound from his arm. But the sword didn’t stop. He refused to stop. He continued his relentless assault.

“Tsk.”

Deron clicked his tongue, his gaze fixed on Lee Han. He frowned, as if displeased.

“That’s enough.”

Deron, who had been blocking the attacks with his arms and shoulders, shifted his stance. He lowered his body slightly and opened his palms. Simultaneously, his aura transformed.

“If you can’t block, deflect.”

The principle of Shifting Flowers and Grafting Trees. Deron’s palms slid along the blade of Lee Han’s sword, smoothly redirecting its trajectory.

Thwack!

Using the momentum, he struck Lee Han’s wrist, sending the sword flying from his grasp. Lee Han saw the subtle shift, the masterful redirection of force.

‘Someday… I’ll learn that.’

He knew he had lost. He had no strength left to continue. But he hadn’t given up, not even in the face of such overwhelming skill.

His eyelids grew heavy. He didn’t resist. Darkness consumed him.

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“Damn it!”

The moment I heard the crack, my eyes widened. I knew he was pushing himself too hard. It was the sound of bone breaking. Or at the very least, a severe fracture.

How much force did he have to exert to make that sound? He was truly relentless, a true protagonist.

I gained a newfound appreciation for the protagonist’s resilience. Someone who could gain enlightenment and grow stronger even in the midst of a spar.

Could you even call that genius? Could such a thing be explained by mere talent?

I didn’t know.

I looked down at Lee Han, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. A physique slightly smaller than the average male, yet his body was toned, his muscles honed.

No one could question his dedication upon seeing his hands. Lee Han, the protagonist, was truly a man of unwavering effort.

‘Why is he so pretty?’

‘No.’

I ignored Archxius’s teasing and hoisted Lee Han onto my back. He had pushed his arm to the point of breaking and then just collapsed.

I would have him hospitalized too. The thought of Lee Han confined to the infirmary brought a smile to my face. I left the training grounds, my heart light.

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sorry whatttt?