Academy’s Genius Swordsman

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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“Follow me.”

The low voice was solemn. However, the atmosphere was somewhat different from when Ronan had seen her at the palace. At least, the intense vitality that burned like a dark sun was not present. Ronan hesitated whether to follow or refuse. Suddenly, within the restaurant, the voice of Navirose echoed.

“Ronan! Where are you going? Did I teach you to let your teacher drink alone?”

“Ha…”

Ronan sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Judging by the way her tongue was tangled, she seemed quite drunk. Well, considering the remarkable performance of the two disciples in the test, she probably felt quite pleased.

Before the test, she had sternly warned not to do anything reckless, but now that Ronan had successfully defeated a hundred monsters, she seemed to be thrilled and excited. Zaifa, hearing the voice, perked up her ears.

“This voice… Did that snake come along too?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“…Annoying. Hold on tightly.”

“Huh?”

Ronan tilted his head in confusion. Before he could react, Zaifa, who suddenly reached out, lifted Ronan onto her shoulders. There was no time to protest. Bang! She crouched down, leaping towards the night sky.

“Holy shit…!”

The night sky poured down. The fearsome leg strength was still intact. As Zaifa jumped, the stars alternately moved farther and closer. When she landed after leaping, Ronan, who had jumped down from her shoulders, muttered curses.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing all of a sudden?”

“This is my temporary residence. I can’t stand noisy things.”

“Temporary residence?”

When his upset stomach settled down, the surrounding scenery came into view. It was a spacious cave, not deep but high enough for Zaifa to stand tall.

Outside the entrance, he could see the starry sky, the setting moon, and the eastern plains in the distance. Positioned on the cliff, it was almost impossible to enter unless one had wings. Zaifa nodded.

“Yeah. When I come to Parzan, I stay and eat my meals here. If you go up to the Holy Land, there are too many annoying things.”

“…It seems quite useful.”

Ronan, who was looking around the residence, raised his eyebrows. It looked simple, but it had everything it needed. A few large campfires were blazing vigorously not far from the entrance. Several large stakes with meat skewered into them were placed around the campfire.

“What kind of meat is this?”

“Elk. Want some?”

“Later.”

Inside the cave were about half a dozen wooden boxes, whose contents were unknown. On both sides of the walls, makeshift beds made with nails sticking out seemed more like traps for catching animals like yaks.

Next to them, a frighteningly large and slightly tilted crescent sword, which only Zaifa could wield, was hanging. Even upon closer inspection, it was more like a construction material than a weapon.

Judging by the subtle changes in its appearance, it seemed like it had been rebuilt after being destroyed by Navirose. Zaifa walked forward and sat down on the box. Ronan questioned, crossing his arms.

“So, what do you want to ask?”

“Did you kill my subordinates?”

Zaifa asked calmly. It was a tone as indifferent as asking if he had watered her plants yesterday. For a moment, Ronan’s face stiffened. It was an expected question, but he didn’t expect it to be so straightforward. The vertically narrowed pupils stared at him. After a moment of silence, Ronan spoke.

“…You’re speaking nonsense that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yeah. I guess so. It’s nonsense.”

Nonsense. Zaifa, who repeated this word, closed her mouth. In the awkward silence, the sound of the wind echoed loudly. Ronan was about to say something when an indescribable eerie energy surged through his spine.

‘Danger.’

Ronan pulled the hilts of his two swords with a movement that was almost instinctive. At the same time, a sharp metallic sound echoed beneath the night sky. Kaaaang! Locking eyes with Zaifa, Ronan raised one corner of his mouth.

“I knew it would come to this.”

He had anticipated it from the moment he sat within reach of the Unwoldo. The blade of the Unwoldo, with its serrated edges, was wedged between the crossed Lamancha and Ymir. Ronan gritted his teeth as he still felt the immense power. If he eased up even a bit, his forehead would have split in half. Watching him, Zaifa spoke with a hint of interest.

“You’ve really improved. Did you switch to a dual sword style?”

“I switch whenever I feel like it. Wanna see?”

Ronan spat on the ground. Zaifa, adjusting her posture without a word, thrust out Unwoldo. The speed was unbelievably fast, considering its size and weight. With each clash of the three blades, a storm-like tempest erupted in the air. Irregular metallic sounds echoed in the cave. They were competing with twenty strokes or so. Suddenly, Zaifa sheathed the Unwoldo. Ronan, in the midst of swinging his sword diagonally, hurriedly stopped his movements. The tip of Lamancha stopped precisely in front of Zaifa’s throat.

“What the hell are you doing right now?”

Ronan furrowed his brows. If he had been a little late, he would have truly lost. Zaifa, who was looking him up and down, nodded.

“…It’s not you, after all.”

“What?”

“I had my doubts since the palace. I don’t know what happened, but there was a somewhat similar aura to those fanatics around you.”

Ronan twisted his lips. As expected, she had noticed. Zaifa, leaning Unwoldo against the wall again, brought two remaining boxes from the corner and placed them near the campfire.

“Sit.”

“Are you going to swing your sword again after all this?”

“Your suspicion has just been cleared. Even though it’s similar, the essence is different. Your sword doesn’t carry the peculiar stench of those guys immersed in fanaticism. And the way you wield your sword is completely different from the sword marks left on the bodies of my subordinates.”

“How is it different?”

“That was a massacre only an emotionless executioner could commit. It’s fundamentally different from your sword, which is filled with emotions”

Zaifa muttered, sending shivers down Ronan’s spine. Without being able to see the shimmering mana, to make such an accurate deduction, it could only be described as remarkable intuition.

“I should have clarified the misunderstanding back at the palace. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay if you know it’s not the case. What about your lieutenant?”

“She hasn’t woken up yet. According to the army doctor, it’s highly likely that psychological factors were involved. She seems to have closed her mind due to a severe shock.”

Ronan twisted his lips. The sight of the lioness still crouching in the hole, terrified, was still vivid in his eyes. Even after a month, the fact that she hadn’t recovered yet meant that the emotional wounds were deeper than expected.

“…Damn it.”

“Still, since her body is completely healed, she’ll come to her senses soon. Are you not going to sit?”

“Don’t rush me.”

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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Finally lowering his sword, Ronan sat on the box. The warmth from the campfire was comforting. Zaifa, using only her fingertips, opened another wooden box. Inside were about six well-packaged bottles of liquor. She took out two bottles and handed one to Ronan. The label on the elegant paper bore a finely sketched snowflake. Ronan’s eyes widened.

“Is this perhaps Millennium Snowflower liquor?”

“It’s the liquor from my hometown. I’ll bring you back later, so let’s talk for now.”

With that response, Zaifa took a gulp of the alcohol. Perhaps because she was so big, but after she swung her neck back a few times, the bottle was completely empty.

Without any delay, she immediately opened the next bottle. No matter how wealthy one was, acquiring such an item wouldn’t be easy. It was indeed a generous expenditure befitting a Sword Saint.

“Talk… shall we do that?”

Ronan murmured quietly. Like Zaifa, he took a sip of the alcohol and exhaled sharply. He felt his body warming up, and a sense of energy returning. Perhaps this was the secret to her strength. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Ronan looked at Zaifa.

“Puha… this is amazing. So, what kept you so late?”

“I came here to kill some pests. But in the end, I couldn’t find any clues.”

“Pests? Nebula Clazier?”

“Yeah. I must’ve taken down at least a hundred.”

Zaifa explained that she had traveled across the continent since leaving the palace, hunting down the culprits behind the murders of her subordinates. The most likely suspect, Nebula Clazier, faced the wrath of the Sword Saint, resulting in the complete annihilation of the small branch near the institution. Ronan chuckled.

“You did all that alone? Weren’t there any odd defensive measures?”

“Occasionally. There were those who handled impenetrable defenses. However, they all lacked endurance, so it wasn’t much of a problem.”

Ronan let out a bitter laugh. Zaifa elaborated on the strategy for dealing with those who used the Protection of the Stars. In summary, all she did was attack and dodge repeatedly until the protection faded, and then strike during that vulnerable moment, which was possible because it wasn’t a permanent shield like the bald ones.

‘Monstrous bastard.’

Still, it was an impressive achievement. Considering the fact that Sarante was ultimately defeated. It was evident that Zaifa’s capabilities were truly extraordinary. Ronan wondered why such a person hadn’t appeared during the final decisive battle.

‘No matter how I look at it, it doesn’t seem like she was killed by someone.’

His thoughts were complicated. The unexplained disappearances of so many individuals, including Navirose, Katir, left too many unanswered questions.

Swallowing his saliva, Ronan took another sip of the alcohol. There was no immediate solution to the current dilemma. At that moment, Zaifa, who was rummaging through her pockets, held out something to Ronan.

“Oh, do you know what this is?”

“Hmm?”

The small, glittering metal was intricately crafted in a hexagonal shape. Ronan raised an eyebrow as he recognized the familiar shape. It was undoubtedly the item worn by Bishop Terranil in the desert ruins of Dainhar.

“…Where did you get this?”

“It’s something I obtained during an ambush on a procession. The leader left it behind along with his arms. Something was being transported in that carriage, but unfortunately I missed it.”

Zaifa clicked her tongue. It happened in the southwest of the continent. She explained that she had ambushed them in a forest where the grass and trees were all white, and defeated them, but she missed the leader and the carriage.

Ronan brushed his bangs aside upon hearing the description of the white forest. Although the location and details were different from what Russell had mentioned, the distinctive features were remarkably similar.

“Where is that place?”

“Well… it’s in the forest that appears after crossing the Itasian Mountain Range to the northwest. Only a specific section stands out as being unusually white.”

“You didn’t find any ruins or anything there?”

“Ruins…? It’s a shame, but at that time, I was in a frenzy of rage, and I couldn’t conduct a thorough investigation. If you’re interested, go check it out. I’ll give it to you.”

Zaifa gestured with a smile. Ronan, somewhat dismissive, tucked the badge into his pocket. He felt that they were getting closer to the truth. They discussed various topics, including the recent events of the past two years. The atmosphere wasn’t overly serious, thanks to the strong alcohol.

“Oh, by the way, someone who claims to be your teacher often visits my lieutenant. An unpleasant fellow.”

“Teacher? Don’t tell me it’s Varen?”

“Yeah, the one who blocked me at the palace.”

“Heh, well, it’s time for that lion to get married too, considering his age.”

Ronan chuckled. Zaifa also let out a joyful laugh. Suddenly, Ronan’s gaze fell on Unwoldo, leaning against the wall. The face of Darman, who was delivering the sword, flashed before his eyes.

“Come to think of it, haven’t you received it yet?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… I mean.”

Ronan trailed off. The words Darman had spoken came to mind. He had claimed that the sword he was delivering was a gift for Zaifa from his master.

‘Surprise gifts always feel the best.’

He didn’t want to spoil it. Avoiding eye contact, Ronan rambled on.

“No. You’ll find out soon.”

“Bland.”

“By the way, why did you come here? It doesn’t seem like you came as a participant, like Instructor Navirose.”

“The Imperial Sword Saint has an obligation to participate in the final test and the ceremony held at the Holy Land. It’s my duty to reward the rookie who wins the final test and to provide guidance on the direction they should take as a swordsman. It’s annoying, but I’m somewhat looking forward to it this time. There are quite a few promising participants, including you and the Rising Star of the Empire.”

Of course, the snake was annoying. Zaifa mumbled and took a sip of her drink. Ronan’s eyes widened. This was a rule he had no idea about.

Could it be that the winner of the final test would get the chance to face off against the Sword Saint? Thoughts about Russell, the demon, Nebula Clazier, and the upcoming events rushed through his mind. Slowly, Ronan opened his mouth.

“Zaifa.”

“What’s up?”

“What if I find him? The one who killed your subordinates.”

For a moment, Zaifa’s gaze changed. After a brief silence, she downed the second bottle of alcohol in one go.

The expensive liquor, enough to buy a house, vanished completely after just three sips. Clang! Zaifa tossed the empty bottle to the ground.

“What do you mean?”

The tone of her growling voice carried a hint of life again. Ronan, reaching into his inner pocket, fiddled with the Dawn Plaque. The blend of the snow and the swirling wind outside the cave was audible.

[TL/N: Chapter 169… nice :3]

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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