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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Vine
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The Clover Academy’s waiting room was filled with a somber atmosphere.
Two consecutive losses. And to a single finger. It was humiliating. They had wanted to set the tone, but their vanguard had been defeated in a single blow. They couldn’t even formulate a strategy. He had dodged their attacks and countered with a single, precise strike. The defeated students clutched their chests, the phantom pain lingering, despite the buff. They couldn’t even look up, their faces filled with shame.
“This… can’t be happening…!”
Margaret Alvan’s hands trembled. She remembered the small freshman, the one who had been with Seymour. How could he be so strong? And with just a finger? She wasn’t just afraid of the loss itself. She feared disappointing him. This exchange… wasn’t just a friendly competition. It was something that he personally led. And if she failed to achieve victory, there would be consequences.
A voice from the doorway startled her.
“Excuse me.”
The door opened, and the Sword Saint, Adolf Roang, entered, his red cape billowing behind him.
“Sword Saint-nim?!”
“At ease. Stay seated.”
They had all risen to their feet, but he stopped them. They knelt instead. He seemed pleased with their display of respect. But his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, stay like that. Standing up just brings the stench of trash.”
His words, spoken with a smile, sent a chill through the room. The students, who had only seen his public persona, the kind, gentle giant, wouldn’t believe he was capable of such… disdain.
“What was that pathetic display? Are you testing my patience?”
“We apologize…”
“I’m not here for apologies. You know that… or do you have nothing else to say?”
What could they say? They had no excuses. Margaret remained silent. The vice-captain spoke. “That… midget… he must be cheating…! There’s no way we’d lose to a finger…!”
Margaret’s heart sank.
“Don’t make excuses.”
A wave of killing intent washed over them. It felt like they’d been stabbed.
“Ugh…”
Some collapsed, unable to withstand the pressure. Margaret had anticipated this. She remained silent, enduring the Sword Saint’s cold gaze. He smiled again, his expression softening.
“Such weakness… No wonder you lost. Don’t disappoint me. I brought you here personally. Don’t embarrass me again.”
He placed a hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “I have high expectations for you, Alvan. You won’t disappoint me, right?”
“I won’t.”
“Good. I trust you.”
He left. They couldn’t lose. “…If we lose again, we’re in trouble. Understood?” Margaret said, after he left. A heavy silence filled the room.
“We just need to win. Right?”
Python, the vice-captain, stood up, a determined glint in his snake-like eyes. “Yes.”
“He must be cheating… We don’t need to hold back. I’ll use ‘that’.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’ was a forbidden technique, a dangerous enhancement that could cripple the user. It was meant for life-or-death situations, not a friendly exchange.
“…If you use that… there will be consequences. Can you handle it?”
“If we lose… the consequences will be worse. It’s worth the risk.”
Margaret couldn’t argue.
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The vice-captain, Python, the suspected demon, emerged, his sword held high. “You will pay for insulting the Clover Kingdom!”
He wasn’t openly using demonic energy. It would be too obvious. But I could sense it, a faint trace, barely noticeable. ‘…No, it’s too weak… What is it?’
Demons could conceal their energy, but this… this was different. It was too faint, too… diluted. “Your reach is limited, using your fingers. That’s why you wait for your opponent to approach, and then counterattack.”
He swung his sword. The blade segmented, transforming into a whip. A chain sword. “You won’t be able to do that against me!”
He swung the chain sword, a blur of motion, the sharp blades whistling through the air. I dodged, but the weapon extended, its reach greater than it appeared. A hidden wire, extending from the hilt. He could control its length. And this wasn’t even its full extent.
-Whoosh!
The blades missed, striking the ground where I had been standing moments ago.
“How do you like that?! You can’t even approach me! And this isn’t all!”
The chain sword retracted. The segmented blades glowed, enveloped in a blue aura. He was using Aura Blade. “Take this!”
He swung again, a flurry of attacks, the blades changing trajectory mid-flight. I dodged, the blades narrowly missing. The Clover students cheered. I had been forced to evade, not attack. It was annoying. The blades were infused with aura, difficult to deflect, their trajectory unpredictable. But I wasn’t an ordinary swordsman.
‘I’m getting used to it.’
He attacked again. I feinted left, and he followed, his Aura Blade flashing. But I didn’t move left. His attack missed, striking the ground. I closed the distance, appearing before him.
-Thud!
My finger struck his temple. He didn’t collapse. He grinned, a strange glint in his eyes. “That’s all you’ve got…?”
“Are you… brain-dead?”
He couldn’t see it. My finger, embedded in his temple. The hologram, however, displayed an orange mark. It was working. His expression changed, as he felt the pressure.
“That spot… it’s called the ‘Devil’s Blood’. Only Inquisitors know about it.”
“An Inquisitor…?”
He flinched at the mention of Inquisitors, those who hunted demons. The crowd didn’t see it. My hand was hidden behind his head. And they hadn’t expected the buff to be bypassed.
“It’s simple. If you’re an ordinary human, nothing happens. But if you’re a demon… you’ll bleed from every orifice. And die.”
“Lies! There’s no such…!”
It was true. A delicate technique, rarely used, even among Inquisitors. I had learned it, during a demon hunt. Some demons could survive it, though. “If you’re human… nothing will happen. Right?”
I twisted my finger. I was curious to see what would happen.
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