Academy’s Genius Swordsman

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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“Don’t you think so, little brother?”

Darman’s gaze was fixed on Ronan. His brown eyes were now tinged with a deep crimson. His flowing white hair looked like a bush of white paint in the wind.

Darman’s expression had completely changed, and sparkling mana was spreading out over his shoulders. It was a clear indication of what was implied. The Ferocious Sword wasn’t the end. Ronan’s face contorted sharply at the mention of ‘little brother.’

“…What?”

“I was grateful to you in the forest. Because of the memory seal being stronger than expected, I was almost in real trouble. Thanks to you, I didn’t even get a scratch.”

Darman stroked his cheek with the hand that didn’t hold a sword. It was a place where, normally, he would have been beaten by the rookie hunters, leaving scars. Remembering the moments of applying potions to his wounds, Ronan narrowed his brow.

“You…”

He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, forgetting to even be angry. He couldn’t comprehend what was being said. Even if the changing hair and eye color could be attributed to a new method of Nebula Clazier, suddenly being called a little brother? Darman, who was laughing while looking at Ronan, continued speaking.

“I’m pleased to have such a good little brother.”

At that moment, veins appeared on Ronan’s temples. As he was getting his head straight, he felt like he was being toyed. In any case, this matter could be resolved by cutting off all of his limbs and then finding out his real identity. Ronan’s thigh, imbued with mana, swelled as if it were about to burst.

“Who the hell is your little brother, you bastard!”

Boom! Ronan, who had paused for a moment, rushed forward again, pounding the ground as he did. Dirt and snow sprayed harshly from where he stood. With a relaxed smile, Darman raised his sword. Clang! A thunderous sound echoed through the volcanic crater, completely different from the sound of mere sword clashes. Darman muttered with admiration in his voice.

“You’re overflowing with power. Have you not touched the Spirit Swords?”

“What…!”

Ronan gritted his teeth from the shock that reverberated through his bones. He realized that something was wrong as soon as their blades clashed.

Unlike when facing the Ferocious Sword in the warehouse, Darman was not pushed back even though he put all his strength into it from the beginning. The two blades, clashing and intersecting, were fluctuating with a momentum as if they were devouring each other. He spoke with a casual expression.

“Don’t be too upset that my attitude suddenly changed. Until I met the Nebula Clazier, it was really the Darman you knew.”

Darman chuckled. In his sneering laughter, there was no trace of his old weak side. Suddenly remembering the events a few days ago, Ronan furrowed his brow.

‘…Did this bastard also come here with his memories sealed?’

At some point, Lynn had explained this to him. The Ferocious Sword had also transformed into a completely different person upon meeting Navirose. Darman must have used the same method to break through Parzan’s security measures. Taking a deep breath, Ronan spoke.

“…Is killing Zaifa your goal?”

“That was the main goal. I got lucky. If it wasn’t for the ritual to find the Holy Sword, it would have been quite troublesome.”

Darman explained that he was able to cut down Zaifa at just the right time. Ronan bit his lower lip. As he said, if Zaifa and the elders were in a normal state, they would never have been defeated so easily. Darman, scrutinizing Ronan’s face at that moment, spoke with a hint of interest.

“But… you really resemble him. Blood can’t be deceived, huh?”

“What?”

“To the point where I could almost confuse you with the Leader from his younger days. Except for the color of your hair, of course.”

“Leader, what kind of bullshit…”

Ronan was about to say something. Suddenly, Darman’s figure began to change, growing larger, and his face began to transform. His round eyes narrowed fiercely, and the remaining baby fat on his face rapidly decreased. After a while, his face, which had stopped changing, looked very similar to someone Ronan knew. With a corner of his mouth raised, Darman spoke.

“Now, do you believe that we’re brothers, little brother?”

****

“What in the world…”

Tyr, the vice-captain of the Holy Lance Knights, was engulfed in unprecedented chaos. Like getting hit by a lightning strike out of the blue. Just as he was giving up on finding the Holy Sword and lying down, a boy suddenly appeared out of nowhere and killed two elders and brought Zaifa down.

The boy of unknown identity was fiercely clashing swords with participant number 44, Ronan. The sound of metal clashing echoed continuously as their swords collided.

Their fight was so fast and intense that other participants couldn’t even dare to intervene. Although some elders were chasing after them, it seemed difficult to catch them.

“Lady Zaifa…”

Tyr’s gaze suddenly turned to Zaifa. She, having been stabbed deep in the chest, was kneeling with one knee, struggling to breathe.

Blood continued to flow from the wound on her chest. The puddle of blood under her feet was rapidly expanding. Tyr, who couldn’t accept the surreal situation, was just breathing heavily when, amidst his gasps, a familiar voice was heard from behind.

“Hello.”

“Who are you?”

Tyr turned his head. A man with deep shadows around his eyes, with a woman by his side holding a well-balanced mace, was standing there.

Tyr recognized the woman and raised his brows. It was Elena, a renowned mercenary from the eastern part of the continent.

“Elena? This person…?”

“He’s a colleague from Aran Parzan. It seemed like it would be difficult for the two of us to move Zaifa together, but it seems to have worked out well.”

“Wait, you mean you’re going to carry her…”

The man with deep-set eyes nodded his head. He explained that he had come to the mountain to rescue Zaifa.

“With the amount of blood loss, if it were a human, they would’ve died from hemorrhage already, but since the Sword Saint is a Weretiger, it seems she’s managing somehow. Follow me.”

“Oh, wait a moment!”

The man and Elena began running towards Zaifa. Tyr followed them in surprise. Although they were quite a distance away, all three of them were skilled warriors, so the distance was quickly closed.

“Grrr…”

“Ah, Miss Sword Saint. Please bear with it for a little longer.”

Zaifa was growling, clutching her chest. It was the typical appearance of a wounded beast. The man with deep-set eyes took out a potion from his arms. Suddenly, a shadow landed blocking their path.

“Indeed, it’s amazing. I never thought I would be able to resolve it all at once like this.”

Tyr’s eyes widened. The identity of the shadow was a woman he had never seen before. The woman, with her hair cut short like a man, had pure white hair and crimson eyes like Darman. The man with deep-set eyes tilted his head.

“Hmm? She isn’t someone I know…”

At that moment, the woman’s hand blurred and disappeared from their sight. A red line appeared across the man’s neck, and then his head fell to the ground. Both Tyr and Elena’s faces hardened abruptly.

“What…!”

Neither of them realized what had happened. The woman now held two daggers in her hands. She licked the blood off her blade, stained with the blood of the man, grinning mischievously.

“Hmm. Human blood does taste better than animal blood after all.”

“You…!”

It wasn’t difficult to realize that she was the enemy. Tyr and Elena both rushed forward simultaneously. The woman, casually licking the blood off her blade, didn’t move until they were within striking distance.

Elena, who reached her first, swung her mace sideways. With mana imbued in the blow, it was a skill that elevated her reputation along with her reticence to do what needed to be done.

But the woman easily dodged the attack by anchoring her legs and leaning her upper body back. Elena, who had been silent all along, opened her mouth for the first time.

“You…!”

“If you hadn’t wasted your energy searching for the Holy Sword, there might have been a chance. What a shame.”

The smirking woman swung her dagger. Swoosh! A small arc was drawn over Elena’s chest, and blood spurted out from her chest and mouth.

“Keuk.”

“Eeek, time to bury you.”

The woman deftly leaped backward, avoiding any splashing blood. Elena, whose heart had been slashed, collapsed to the ground. Tyr, seeing her now forever silent, stumbled back in horror. The woman, licking the blood off her dagger, looked at him and said.

“It’s fine to eat or drink it, but I don’t want it to get on my body. Just like honey, you know.”

“Wh-what on earth are you…”

“You wouldn’t know even if I told you. We’re Lycopos. My name is Aziego.”

“Lyco… pos?”

The woman named Aziego responded casually. Tyr stuttered at the word he had never heard before. Aziego chuckled and threw the dagger she had just been licking.

“Look. I told you you wouldn’t know.”

“Keuk!”

The dagger flew in a straight line towards Tyr’s head. Predicting the tragic future, he let out a cry of desperation.

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

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At the moment the sharp blade was about to pierce Tyr’s forehead, Clang! Something fast and sharp parried the dagger. It was the long and wide blade of a longsword. Tyr’s eyes widened as they focused on the back of a woman who had appeared before him.

“Na-Navirose!”

“Ugh.”

Navirose deflected the dagger and swung her sword horizontally. As Aziego hastily twisted her shoulder, the dagger narrowly missed her face. Aziego looked back at Navirose and spoke with an intrigued tone.

“…You’re still lively, huh?”

“Who are you?”

Navirose retorted sharply. Despite interacting with dozens of Spirit Swords during the ritual, her eyes still gleamed with vitality. Aziego smirked.

“Well, I suppose Crodan must have taken a hit. He wasn’t supposed to send that bastard alone in the first place.”

“What is your identity?”

“We’re Lycopors, members of Nebula Clazier. If you want to hear more than that, try your best.”

“Alright then.”

Aziego leaped gracefully, rotating her body swiftly to attack. The two daggers moved fiercely like the stings of bees. Clang! With each clash, sparks flew in the air.

“As expected, you are strong.”

“Noisy…”

Nabirose, engaged in combat, frowned. While Nabirose had the upper hand in wielding the sword, Aziego’s movements were so swift and unpredictable that landing a decisive blow was difficult.

She leaped over obstacles, stood on tiptoes, and sometimes launched secret venomous darts from her shoes to attack Nabirose. Then, at one moment, as she leaped, she landed on a rocky outcrop, lost her balance, and fell backward.

“Whoa.”

Nabirose did not miss the opportunity. The Grand Sword gleamed as it descended towards Aziego’s head. The moment the blade was about to split the woman’s skull in half. Clang! A loud metallic sound echoed. Aziego heaved a sigh of relief.

“Phew, that was close.”

“This…”

Nabirose’s face stiffened. The blade of the Grand Sword stopped just a finger’s breadth away from her eyes. A shimmering curtain like a haze was blocking her sword.

It was clearly the same technique used by the Ferocious Sword. Just like before, no matter how much force she exerted, the barrier did not break. Aziego, who was twirling her dagger playfully, spoke up.

“Shall we get serious now?”

Her expression turned cold. A murderous aura, completely different from before, spread across her shoulders. With both hands gripping the sword handle tightly, Nabirose exerted force.

****

“Damn it!”

Clang! The hilt of his sword slipped from Ronan’s hand. Lamancha, flying in a circle, landed into the ground. Darman spoke with a laugh mixed with mockery.

“What’s wrong, little brother? Your movements seem noticeably sluggish.”

“Shut up…!”

Darman’s attacks continued relentlessly, leaving no room to pick up his sword. Ronan immediately drew his dagger, Ymir, and took a defensive stance. Clang! When the sword fell, it struck Ymir’s blade, striking Ronan’s hand.

“Argh!”

“Are you shocked to learn that you have a brother?”

The shock reverberated from his wrist to his knee. Immediately after Darman’s face changed, Ronan continued to be pushed back. He simply could not concentrate on the battle.

‘Is this really happening?’

Darman’s face was eerily similar to his, albeit slightly less handsome. It was enough to pass as twins without dispute. That alone was bad enough, but there was another factor that shook Ronan’s heart. He knew the person who could be the original version of both him and Darman.

‘He was talking about the Leader. Definitely.’

Darman had mentioned that he resembled the Leader to the point of it being indistinguishable. That one statement was trying the sickening hypothesis he had buried deep in his heart. The secret of his birth that he had been denying.

‘So it’s true that the bastard is…’

Ronan’s head spun. Even though he focused all his nerves on dealing with the situation, it wasn’t enough. He tried to regain his composure and focus on the battle. Clang! Ymir, continuously receiving Darman’s sword strikes, shattered into pieces.

“What the hell…!”

“What a shame. The black sword was quite useful.”

Darman spun his sword around and thrust forward. It was a distance where Ronan couldn’t avoid or block it. Sensing death approaching, Ronan took a deep breath. It was the moment when the white blade was about to pierce Ronan’s throat, something grabbed Ronan’s back and blocked the sword’s path.

Thud! A strangely soft sound echoed. Darman’s sword, which pierced through something, stopped.

“What is this now?”

“Ugh.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. His shoulders were trembling. A trembling voice came out from his dumbfounded mouth.

“…Lynn?”

The white blade was growing through Lynn’s back. Red blood was spreading over her clothes. Lynn, who was pierced by the sword, turned her head. Although she seemed to be saying something with her small mouth, her voice was not coming out.

“Wow, I wonder where you suddenly came from.”

Darman furrowed his brows. Time seemed to stop for Ronan. Lynn’s face was quickly turning pale. The blood flowing between her small lips contrasted even more vividly against her snow-white hair.

“You.”

Ronan instinctively reached out and pulled out Lamancha stuck in the ground. As Darman swung his sword, Lynn’s body rolled to the ground. She was so light that no sound came out. Ronan lunged toward Darman, clutching the hilt of his sword with both hands.

“Was she at least your lover?”

Darman sneered. As he casually lifted his sword, he took a defensive stance. Ronan swung with all his might, but his anger-driven attack was easily blocked.

“You still have a lot to learn, little brother. I have to do my job now, so let’s finish this.”

Darman smirked. But this time, it wasn’t the end. Clang! As the sound of metal echoed, a storm of mana erupted from Lamancha, which had turned red hot. Darman’s face froze. Sensing danger, he hastily moved his body.

“Ugh!”

But he failed to completely avoid it. As the cyclone-like surge of wind moved through him, something tore through his body like lightning. Crunch! His left side and right ribs were torn out as if bitten by a shark. Darman’s face twisted with rage.

“How dare you!”

Suddenly,sparkling mana surged over Darman’s shoulder. It was at a scale that far surpassed that of Terranil, who served as Bishop. But that didn’t matter to Ronan now. He immediately corrected his posture and rushed toward Darman without a word.

“You… beast…!”

Darman raised his right arm. As a pair of giant wings spread over his shoulder, a fierce wind struck Ronan. It was one of the abilities of the Giants, the Gale. Clang! Ronan, swept away by the fierce wind, was thrown far away.

“Keuk!”

It was like a compressed hurricane. As Ronan flew straight, he collided with the outer wall of the crater. The impact felt as if his entire spine had been shattered, and blood burst out from his mouth. Trying to pull himself up again, he tried to breathe. Boom! With another leap, Darman rushed towards him and drove a kick into Ronan’s chest.

“…”

No scream came out. Another small crater formed around Ronan. Clang! As the outer wall, unable to withstand the impact, collapsed, Ronan fell down the mountain. Watching him, Darman muttered quietly.

“Phew… just cool your head there.”

He wiped the blood off his sword and turned around. The wounds on his shoulder and side were deep. He had almost fallen victim to them.

Darman took an emergency potion from his pocket and began pouring it into his body. As he looked around the Holy Land, he raised his brows.

“…Hmm?”

Clearly, he couldn’t see the body of the girl he had just stabbed to death.

[TL/N: I hope Ronan shoves the holy sword up his ass for hurting Lynn like that… grrr 😠]

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HEL SCANS

[Translator – Peptobismol]

[Proofreader – Demon God]

Join our Discord for release updates!

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