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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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“What about my daughter’s purity?!”
Sherden roared, sitting on the sofa in the magic studies department, his usual morning spot.
“Do you think this is your living room? What the hell are you doing here?! Get out!”
Egenir’s outburst was a shock to Sherden, the head of the prestigious Gainz family. The insults and curses were…unexpected.
‘Did I start it…?’
He’d charged into the academy, assuming Egenir had defiled his daughter, showering him with insults and threats.
He had attacked first, but Egenir’s attitude was still…unacceptable.
“Is he always like this?”
He asked Spenny, who was serving tea.
“He can be…abrasive, but he’s a good person at heart.”
“Good person?”
He understood burning people alive with Salamander, but a “good person”?
“What are you?”
He was curious about this monster, this anomaly, setting aside the issue of him seeing Ella in her underwear.
“A human.”
“I’m treating you like a human, and you think you are one?”
“You crazy bastard, do I look like a demon to you?”
“Apparently not.”
“This…”
Egenir’s blood pressure spiked. He sat down on the sofa, glancing at Cecilia, who’d just arrived.
“Good morning~”
She chirped, oblivious to the two men glaring at each other, ready to draw their swords. She was also insane.
“Teacher, mana circuit methods again today?”
“Yes. The transfer rate increased significantly yesterday. And the actual combat data was invaluable.”
Cecilia, driven to the brink by Egenir’s near-death experience, had gone berserk. But thanks to the stability of Spenny’s mana circuit method, she’d retained enough control to provide valuable data.
“She maintained her composure even at a 60% transfer rate. At 100%, she might be able to control her flames completely.”
They continued their discussion, ignoring the two swordsmen.
‘These magic fanatics…’
They only cared about their research, even if someone died. They were sipping tea, discussing magic, while the swordsmen were about to tear each other apart.
“Why aren’t you leaving?”
“I told you. What about my daughter’s purity?”
“Do you want me to commit seppuku?”
“I’ll even lend you a sword!”
Sherden’s eyes blazed. He was seriously suggesting suicide.
“Get lost. I’m not dying, and I’m the victim here, regardless of your daughter’s…purity.”
“Victim? You, a monster, claim to be a victim?”
He had a point, but…
“I was drunk. What was I supposed to do?”
“Drunk? You gave my daughter alcohol?!”
“No, she came to me asking for a drink! I drank in my dormitory!”
Technically, it was the emergency shelter, but the point was, he wasn’t at fault.
He explained, adding a few choice curses, how Ella had brought him to her dormitory after he’d passed out in the shelter.
“How was I supposed to know she sleeps in her underwear? I was drunk.”
“So…my daughter went to the boys’ dormitory, got a drink from you, and then carried you, unconscious, to her room?”
“Finally, some common sense.”
“Does that sound believable to you?”
“Ugh…My head…”
Spenny, ever thoughtful, offered him a soothing lavender tea. He sipped it, trying to calm his nerves.
“I hear you aspire to be a Magic Swordsman.”
“So?”
“You know how that ends, right?”
He knew. With enough effort, even those with unfavorable traits could achieve a pinnacle.
Ella, even without the Hero trait, would achieve Valkyrie. Cecilia, born with Salamander, would achieve Explosion during the demon invasion.
Egenir, however, was unlikely to achieve a pinnacle in either swordsmanship or magic.
‘It’s already ruined…’
The Salamander trait, acquired because of Cecilia’s sudden surge in affinity, had thrown off his plans.
His carefully crafted build was ruined. He’d been forced to switch to the Magic Swordsman path, a risky, untested build.
“How would I know? Are you a Magic Swordsman?”
“Do you have to eat shit to know it tastes bad?”
“That’s…rude.”
“Why are you friends with Ella, you womanizer?! If you were striving for a pinnacle in swordsmanship, I’d understand!”
“I’m not trying to be friends with her! She followed me to my training sessions, she followed me to the drinking party, she even followed me to my bed!”
“What?”
“I told her to leave me alone, but she kept asking for training, for advice…It’s annoying. Can you tell her to stay away from me?”
“I was planning to do just that! Bad company corrupts good morals, and you’re clearly a bad influence!”
“I know I’m a piece of shit, but you’re not one to talk! You attacked your daughter’s friend with a sword because of a misunderstanding!”
“You little brat!”
“You’re worse than…!”
They both reached for their swords.
“They seem to be getting along.”
“Indeed.”
Spenny and Cecilia, sipping their tea, smiled.
They continued their discussion, ignoring the escalating conflict, until the end of the morning class. They even had lunch together.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother us during lunch?”
“I’m observing you, making sure you don’t try anything with my daughter! Oh, so you’re finally showing your true colors!”
“I’m going to the bathroom, you crazy old man!”
“Don’t you lie to me!”
“He’s even following me to the bathroom! I’m being stalked by a creepy old geezer!”
“You think you can sneak away to see Ella while I’m not looking?!”
“He’s watching me take a shit! Help! Someone! He’s insane!”
“You little…!”
After lunch, he headed to the training grounds.
“Magic in the morning, swordsmanship in the afternoon? What a strange…”
“I know what I’m doing, so shut up, old man.”
“You might have learned Dragon Swordsmanship, but how far do you think you can go? Ella, though slightly weaker now, has the potential to achieve a pinnacle. She’ll surpass you eventually.”
“I know, I know, so just leave me alone. I’m a worthless piece of shit, so just get lost!”
“If you know you’re worthless, then stay away from Ella! Bad habits are easily picked up, and you’re a bad influence!”
“Isn’t that a parenting issue?”
“You little…!”
They bickered, their sheathed swords clashing, as they walked towards the training grounds.
Sherden tried to land a debilitating blow, while Egenir focused on defending himself and planning a counterattack.
They were holding back, avoiding using their traits or special techniques, but their attacks were filled with genuine animosity.
“Just die already, you old geezer!”
“How dare you speak to the head of the Gainz family like that!”
“Only those without skill resort to boasting about their background!”
‘Thwack! Thud! Bang! Thwack! Boom!’
They clashed swords, their fight escalating, until they reached the training grounds.
“What is all this?!”
Sherden, a former academy graduate, was familiar with the usual training routines. But the scene before him was…chaotic, almost unbelievable.
“Get them!”
“You bastards! Come at me!”
The five were sparring with the low-ranking students, their matches brutal, almost life-or-death.
“Never seen training before?”
“You call this training?”
“Swords clashing, testing each other’s strength, that’s training.”
Sherden couldn’t argue with that. But the look in the girls’ eyes…their ferocity, their collective bloodlust…
“Did you teach them this?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?! Are you trying to turn them into demons?!”
His tone had shifted from paternal concern to the outrage of a seasoned swordsman.
“I didn’t teach them anything.”
They’d chosen this path themselves.
“Hey, Mr. Rich Elite from the Gainz family.”
Egenir’s underlying resentment towards Sherden’s privileged background surfaced.
“What…what did you say?”
“What do you think their social standing is?”
They didn’t look like they came from influential families.
“They have nothing, no access to high-level techniques, no family support. How are they supposed to pass The Sieve, to surpass their peers?”
“…”
Sherden, raised in privilege, couldn’t comprehend their struggles. He couldn’t just tell them to “work hard.”
“This is their only option. And I understand that.”
“…Was there really no other way?”
Sherden’s tone was serious. Egenir answered, his voice calm.
“There might be other ways. But are there any guarantees?”
There weren’t.
“I only had one answer. Train, train relentlessly, hone my skills, break them down, deconstruct them, and start again.”
The Broken Sword.
To understand the broken sword, one had to push themselves to the breaking point, to experience the brink of death. It was a path he couldn’t recommend to anyone.
“They understand. They know they’ll be stepping stones for others if they follow the usual path.”
“…”
“I know what you’re thinking. There has to be a hierarchy. I agree. But…don’t they deserve a chance to try, even if it’s a long shot?”
“…I understand.”
Sherden couldn’t deny Egenir’s skill. He hadn’t achieved the Broken Sword through demonic means.
He’d become a demon to achieve it. He’d willingly embraced hell to hone his skills. Such a swordsman, even if unskilled, couldn’t be underestimated.
The killing intent he’d sensed during their earlier clash had been real. Their paths might be different, but Egenir possessed the spirit of a true swordsman.
“Draw your sword.”
“Why?”
“I need to see your swordsmanship with my own eyes.”
Sherden’s curiosity had been piqued. Harfon, having arrived with Egenir, had requested a duel. The five and the low-ranking students stopped their training, watching Egenir.
“…”
Egenir slowly turned to face Sherden. The air crackled with tension. He placed his hand on the hilt of his wooden sword, his gaze fixed on the larger man.
Then…
“Fuck you, you bastard.”
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