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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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The academy was abuzz with events, big and small, leading up to the demon invasion. Most of them were orchestrated by the damn Royal Nobles.
Egenir had developed a particular distaste for them, his expression turning sour whenever he encountered one.
‘Why do you insist on bothering me?’
He’d glare at them with open disdain. He was on his way back to the dormitory after Harfon’s class when he saw them.
Five men, swords at their hips, looking like thugs. Their hairstyles, their plump figures, their pig-like complexions…
‘Royal Nobles.’
Not surprising.
Whenever he did something noteworthy, or after attracting attention during a demon fight (before running away to the shelter), they’d show up, eager to cause trouble.
“What do you want?”
“What do you want? You should address your superiors with respect.”
“Look, I’m tired. Just give me the gist, okay?”
“This is why nobles who associate with commoners should be stripped of their titles.”
One of them poked Egenir in the chest. He stepped back, avoiding the touch.
“Hey, you’re on his radar, you know.”
“Whose? Yours?”
“His Highness, Prince Horse.”
“Ah, that gay bastard?”
They immediately reached for their swords.
“How dare you insult His Highness! You’re a baron, you should be loyal to the Royal Family!”
“So you’re here to beat me up on his orders?”
They grinned, drawing their swords.
“Wow, so brave. Ganging up on a freshman.”
“You’re getting cocky, protected by that Gainz bitch, the Tower girl, and the teachers. Forgotten your place, haven’t you?”
“A country bumpkin from the sticks, enjoying the spotlight.”
“Why would His Highness even bother with a first-year brat?”
“Ah, you’re second-years?”
They yelled again.
“How dare you speak to your seniors like that?!”
“Look, pick a persona. Thug or condescending senior. Or just have one of you speak for the group. This is giving me a headache.”
He raised his wooden sword.
“Pfft!”
One of them snickered.
“What’s so funny?”
“Look at his sword.”
The pathetic wooden sword covered in messages from the low-ranking first-year boys. Egenir hadn’t bothered to find a new one.
“…”
“What is that, a child’s toy?”
“Shut up, I know it’s embarrassing.”
They continued to laugh.
“We’ll break that sword, and your spirit along with it.”
“He just got out of the hospital. Should we send him back?”
They raised their sheathed swords, grinning.
“Aren’t you going to draw your swords?”
“Why bother? We don’t need real swords to deal with you.”
They taunted him.
“You’ll regret that…”
“You’re the one who’ll regret bringing that pathetic toy to a fight!”
The noble, chivalry be damned, charged before he even finished his sentence. He used a familiar swordsmanship technique.
‘The Great Weight Style, wasn’t it?’
A strange name for a technique favored by mediocre swordsmen and those who relied on brute force rather than skill.
‘Tch, these guys are sucking up to Horse just to get a sponsorship.’
The attack, lacking the youthful energy of a first-year, was powerful and direct. But…
‘I’ve fought demons with swords and katanas the size of humans, you brats.’
Their swords felt ridiculously light compared to a demon’s weapons. A demon’s sword was heavy, almost immovable. And this guy…
‘Thwack!’
Egenir deflected the sheathed sword with his wooden blade, disrupting his opponent’s balance.
“Whoa?!”
He stumbled, and Egenir tripped him with a swift kick.
‘Thud!’
He struck the falling noble on the head with his wooden sword, knocking him unconscious.
“Next?”
“You bastard!”
Another one charged. At least he wasn’t scared.
“What’s with these heavy swords? They’re all so damn light!”
Egenir’s comment, revealing his knowledge of advanced swordsmanship techniques, made them hesitate.
‘A first-year?’
A first-year who recognized high-level techniques normally taught to upperclassmen.
Even if he knew the names and characteristics, identifying a technique from a single thrust…
‘The counter is simple…’
Egenir, seemingly knowing exactly what to do, deflected the vertical strike.
“Did you brats even train? Is this supposed to be a heavy sword?”
He parried the downward strike and kicked his opponent in the chest.
“Ugh!”
“Even his squeal is pig-like!”
He struck him on the head, knocking him out.
“You guys?”
“W-What?”
“Aren’t you going to draw your swords?”
They hesitated, their hands hovering over their hilts.
‘Just waiting for them to draw…’
His eyes gleamed with predatory intent. He was ready to pounce. They exchanged glances, then made a rational decision.
They kept their swords sheathed.
“How disappointing.”
“Let’s get him together!”
The remaining three charged simultaneously.
“That’s more like it! Like a pack of wolves!”
The first few had tried to maintain some semblance of honor, fighting one-on-one. But against a stronger opponent, pride and chivalry were meaningless.
He had no sympathy for those who’d died clinging to their ideals while fighting demons.
“That’s right! Bite and tear! They’ll use every trick in the book to kill you, to tear you apart and feast on your flesh! You posture when they’re weak, and you drop your swords when they’re strong! And I’m supposed to fight demons with you?! What kind of world is this?!”
His frustration erupted.
“We’re sorry!”
“We’ll try again!”
“Aaaaaah!”
The three apologized profusely and charged again. He seemed to be radiating heat, his anger almost visible. In fact, fueled by the Salamander trait, he was radiating heat, his body flickering with flames, like a demon lord of fire.
“Come at me!”
His wooden sword was wreathed in flames. Wind fueled fire. The Salamander trait, combined with Dragon Swordsmanship, turned his blade into a fiery laser.
“Aaaaaah! Fire!”
“Never seen fire before?! Are you going to react like this when a demon breathes fire at you?!”
“N-No!”
He grabbed one of them by the collar.
“Then give me a proper workout!”
He threw the noble aside and yelled,
“The rest of you, get up! A few bumps on the head aren’t enough to knock some sense into you!”
“Aaaaaah! What is this?!”
They screamed, seeing his flaming wooden sword.
“Attack!”
“Yes!”
“W-What? Why are you…”
The noble who’d regained consciousness was confused by his friends’ sudden deference.
‘Use your brain.’
The five swordsmen, users of the Great Weight Style, were no match for Egenir, a master of Dragon Swordsmanship. There was no escape. If they tried to run, he’d only get angrier.
“Let’s…run.”
One of them muttered, a plan forming in his mind. Egenir pretended not to hear. They’d run simultaneously, in different directions. He might catch one or two, but some would escape.
The five nodded. Two of them had head injuries, one bleeding profusely.
“Ha!”
They feigned another attack, then scattered.
“That’s right…Run.”
He was tired of seeing them die needlessly in every regression.
“But…will the demons let you escape?”
His Salamander trait was still active. He pushed off with his good leg and began to chase them.
“You’ll be beaten like dogs if I catch you! Run!”
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[Your Text Here]
Why is he THAT mad bro? Lol they are just dumb bullies and he beating them like he actually cares about them.