Academy’s Genius Swordsman

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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“I originally came to Parzan to pursue that demon. If it continues like this, all participants will be in danger.”

Russell’s expression was serious. Ronan stared at him with a blank expression. Due to the continuous flow of unfamiliar information, Ronan’s mind was in disarray. After scanning Ronan up and down, Russell nodded.

“You passed. Honestly, you exceeded expectations. If there were a few more talents like you, we might be able to stop him.”

“…Passed?”

“Yeah. From what I saw earlier, the Imperial Star and Lady Navirose were also present. If you are acquainted with them, please persuade them. We need to save people.”

Russell’s attitude seemed almost like a superior’s. It was infuriating the way he dragged people out and rambled in an unknown language as if he owned the place. Ronan let out a sarcastic laugh.

‘This won’t work. This bastard.’

Almost everything about him was annoying, but the most frustrating part was his insistence on saving people. Regardless of the credibility of the information, it seemed like his habits needed to be corrected first. Ronan spat on the ground and shifted his steps towards Russell.

“You son of a bitch, this is ridiculous.”

“Hmm? What?”

Ronan grabbed the hilt of his sword. He aimed the blade at Russell and took deliberate steps forward. In the moment of confusion, Russell, trying to draw his sword, was suddenly struck low.

“If you want to fight, go ahead. I’ll cut your head off right now and here.”

“Why are you suddenly…”

“Shut up.”

Russell, overwhelmed by the momentum, released his grip on the sword. As Ronan advanced with each step, Russell had to retreat. Eventually, they reached the edge of the cliff. Russell, with nowhere left to retreat, stumbled and asked in confusion.

“Wh-why are you doing this?”

“You keep blabbering on and on. Demon? Participants in danger? Fine, let’s assume everything you said is true.”

“Ugh!”

It happened in an instant. Ronan extended his arm, gripping Russell’s throat. As he slowly lifted his arm, Russell’s legs left the ground. Ronan took two more steps forward. Russell, realizing he had nowhere else to go, stumbled and asked, gasping for breath.

“Ugh! W-wait…!”

“But isn’t it a bit too much to use saving people as an excuse after doing such things? You, bastard, do you know how many people were almost screwed because of your actions in the arena?”

“I-I…”

“You’re grateful that no one died or got injured? You’re just trying to move on carelessly.”

Ronan snarled as he stared into Russell’s face. Even if Russell’s words were true, his actions were hard to justify. If Ronan had made even a slight mistake, a significant number of the twenty-four participants would have either died or been crippled. The guy who claimed he had to save people was indulging in such actions just to test his skills. Such contradictions were infuriating.

“I’ll explain everything! Just let me go for now…”

Russell struggled with all his might, but Ronan’s strong arm did not yield. It felt like an iron snake wrapped around his neck. Smirking, Ronan spoke.

“Oh, sure. You want me to let go?”

“Gah…”

Ronan released the pressure from his hand. Russell’s body dropped downward. Ronan’s figure quickly receded. For a moment, the word “death” flashed before Russell’s eyes.

“Aaaaah!”

The wind roared in his ears. Russell, with his eyes tightly shut, let out a scream. Suddenly, the sensation of something wrapping around his body stopped the descent.

“What…?”

Slowly opening his eyes, Russell gasped for breath. Something like shimmering roots was supporting his body. The roots, growing along the wall, extended all the way up the cliff where Ronan was. Just as Ronan flicked his finger, the roots wriggled, lifting Russell up onto the cliff. Ronan’s gaze moved away, distancing quickly.

“Haah… Hahah…!”

“Have you come to your senses now?”

Russell’s face, who had just been on the brink of death, had turned as white as a sheet of paper. Ronan squatted down in front of him. His face, bathed in the setting sun, was stained crimson red like a demon from hell. Russell quickly nodded his head. He instinctively knew there would be no second chance for him.

“Ugh… I-I’m sorry. I made a mistake. It was my revenge that blinded me, and I…”

“That’s right. A proper motive should come first.”

“I won’t hide the fact that I was trying to use you for my personal motivations. It was my mistake for endangering many lives just to see your true abilities… I will definitely take responsibility for their safety.”

Russell began to confess his mistakes, prostrating himself as if apologizing to the ground. Fear was indeed the best confession. Trembling, Russell raised his head.

“But everything I told you about the demon threatening all the participants is true! The warning is real!”

“Ah, dammit. Surprised me.”

The sincerity in Russell’s trembling voice was evident. Even the tears flowing down his cheeks testified to it. It seemed like the time was right for a more constructive conversation. Ronan, still holding his sword, spoke.

“Alright, calm down. Let’s talk. Who is that demon, and why do you hate him so much?”

“…It’ll be quicker for you to see it yourself. Look at this.”

Suddenly, Russell untied his hood. Ronan’s eyes widened. It explained why he didn’t take off the hood even in such a situation. Russell spoke with a tone full of regret.

“Bear with the sight. I can’t take it off for a long time anyway, as the wounds worsen.”

“This is…”

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

Join our Discord for release updates!

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Ronan twisted his lips. It was a gruesome wound. One corner of his head had been shaved off at an angle. Beneath his dark red, dying scalp, a pure white skull was exposed.

Ronan noticed that some characters were written on the inside of the hood. He vaguely remembered seeing them in the magic books Aselle often read. Probably, the characters were to prevent the worsening of the wounds while wearing the hood. At that moment, Ronan’s narrow eyes narrowed even further.

‘This is…?’

The sliced section through which the blade passed felt oddly familiar, though Ronan couldn’t quite remember where he had seen it before. At that moment, a bitter voice flowed from Russell’s open mouth.

“It’s the wound I got from that demon. It’s been over three years, but it still lingers, tormenting me. On the day I received this wound, I lost my mercenary group, which was like family to me.”

“Mercenary group? You were from a mercenary background?”

“Yes. We were known as the Blue Arch Mercenary Corps… We had quite a reputation in the Dharan Kingdom and its vicinity. It’s an old story now.”

Russell calmly continued his explanation. The Blue Arch led by him was a mercenary group that specialized in exploring uncharted ruins and dungeons. Their demise at the hands of the demon was a tale not yet known to the world.

“I still vividly remember that day. It was a white forest, where even the grass, trees, and even the soil had a pale white hue. That accursed ruin was in the midst of the forest, with its mouth wide open.”

“Did you encounter him there?”

“Yes. It happened not long after entering the ruin. We were walking through a smooth metallic-covered corridor. Since none of us had seen such a structure, everyone was marveling at it.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. A corridor covered in metal— it reminded him of the heart of Dainhar in the desert. Russell took a deep breath and continued.

“Suddenly, a young man approached us from the end of the corridor. He was completely naked, not wearing a single piece of clothing, and his appearance was horrifying. The skin on his entire body, including his face, was almost torn off, and judging by his limping, it seemed like one of his legs was broken. Amidst all this, he held a sword. We ran towards him to ask if he was okay… and that was the end of it.”

Russell briefly explained the situation at that time. The disappearance of the young man from their sight, followed by the limbs of his comrades soaring into the air. There was no time for screams. While describing the scene of the scattered bodies, Russell bit his lips.

“It wasn’t a fight. It was a one-sided massacre. It took less than three minutes for the entire mercenary group to be annihilated. Everyone except me died.”

“How did you get out of there alive?”

“That… ah.”

Suddenly, Russell clutched his head as if in pain. It seemed to be the darkest part of the nightmare at that time. After nervously moving his lips several times, he forcefully lowered his head.

“… He didn’t kill all my comrades. For some reason, about half of them were left alive. I used my Aura on them and while my friends were buying time I escaped from the ruin.”

“Damn.”

Ronan’s brows narrowed. It was a more gruesome story than he initially thought. Ronan felt like he now understood why he was so blindly obsessed with killing that demon.

“Since that day, I have dedicated my life to chasing down that demon. I encountered him again about a year ago, and surprisingly, his skin and leg that had been damaged were perfectly fine.”

“The leg?”

“Yeah. It was impossible to recover, really.”

After that, Russell began listing the atrocities committed by the demon. Each one was horrifying in its own way. Acting like a wanderer, he would visit secluded villages and massacre the residents before dawn as if it were a hobby. As Ronan listened to the story, a sense of disgust washed over him. To habitually commit murders, even among bastards, marked a dangerously perilous type.

“The last time I saw him was on the road to Parzan, hunting monsters. He took down a Mountain Ogre with a single strike. He became unbelievably stronger than when he threw me into hell.”

“…How were you planning to capture him?”

“I plan to ambush him the night before the final test. To take the last test leading to the Holy Land, you have to join the successful candidates from Aran Parzan. A talented individual like you wouldn’t fail the test, and I‘m confident enough to make it there myself.”

Russell mentioned that the final test of the Festival of Swords was fixed. The candidates from the two towns, Gran Parzan and Aran Parzan, would face each other in a duel. Ronan nodded; it indeed sounded like the right time.

“Anyway… my story ends here. I apologize for causing you so much trouble.”

After finishing his story, Russell sighed. He carefully wrapped the two hooded garments with engraved magic around his head again. Suddenly, Ronan stopped him.

“Wait a moment.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“Take off the hood again. Do you have any other wounds?”

“Huh…?”

“He gave you those wounds. Is it only on your head?”

Russell tilted his head. Ronan’s eyes remained fixated on his head. Thinking about it again, it was definitely a sword mark he had seen before.

“There is, but…”

“Show me.”

Ronan’s voice was firm. Russell, without knowing what was going on, took off his upper garment. His well-trained body was covered in dozens of scars, remnants of the storms from years of mercenary life.

“Here, on the back…”

“You don’t have to say it, just wait.”

Ronan interrupted Russell, who was about to reveal the demon’s inflicted scars. Even without explanation, it was apparent. Such emotionless sword marks were rare. Soon, Ronan confirmed the scar that extended from the left shoulder blade to the waist. Running his index finger over the scar, he frowned.

“As expected…”

“Wh-what’s going on?”

Russell asked in a bewildered tone, but Ronan didn’t respond. Ronan remembered where he had seen these sword marks before. In a forest where drizzling rain fell, mingling with blood. A lone Werelion was hiding in a hole, shivering.

The memory from not long ago, where he discovered the corpses of Dawn Brigade members, came to his mind. Undoubtedly, it was one of the three types of sword marks. Ronan, recalling the words of the terrified lieutenant, spoke up.

“Hey, mister.”

“Yeah?”

“What did that demon look like?”

“Look…? Well… his face was rather ordinary…”

Russell let out a sigh. Summarizing this proved to be a challenge. Suddenly, the characteristics of the demon’s skin from before it returned to normal flashed in his mind. Russell’s lips parted.

“…He had white hair, and his eyes were a peculiar reddish-yellow color. I remember it since it was an unusual color combination. Come to think of it, the color of his eyes was similar to yours.”

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

Join our Discord for release updates!

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