A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! — Chapter 135

Chapter 135

Right⁠⁠ after finishing the‍⁠‌ first-year class, Aint‍‌‌ was the first to leave the‌‍ classroom.

‘Thanks‍⁠⁠ to senior Fernan,‍‍ I had a good experience.’

It‍ wasn’t necessary to fight directly to‌⁠ gain experience.

Watching⁠ a duel between⁠ experts was also‍ a great lesson,‌ and especially Alcmion‍ Altrierc’s swordsmanship left⁠‌⁠ a strong impression⁠⁠ on him.

‘I⁠‍‌ had never seen‍ such a technique.’‌

— It’s the Altrierc‍ family’s secret swordsmanship. It doesn’t aim‌ for precision, finesse,‌ or smoothness, but⁠⁠ raw strength and‍ absolute dominance.

— Many call it‌‍‌ crude for its‍ simplicity, but that’s⁠ exactly what makes‍ it devastating.

‘It‌ sure looked like⁠‌ it.’

None of the first-years‌‍ could stop his⁠‍ sword.

— Even if you‌ manage to block‍ it, unless you‍‌‌ dodge or redirect‍⁠ it perfectly, you’ll‍‌ still take damage.‌⁠

That⁠‍ was the effect‌ of its overwhelming‍ destructive power.

‘I⁠ definitely want to‌ fight him at⁠⁠ least once.’

— It would be⁠ a good experience.‌ Especially as training‍‍ before fighting demons.‍‍

The‍‌ way demons and‌⁠ the Altrierc fought‍‍ differed greatly, but‍ both had one‌‌ thing in common—crushing‍ their opponent with‍ sheer force.

In⁠⁠ that sense, among‌‌‌ humans, no one‍‌ pursued a style‍ closer to the demons’ than the Altrierc.

‘That’s‍ true too…’

Just⁠ then—

“Senior⁠‍ Aint!”

“Timon‍‌‌ Baertz?”

“You‍‌ really know my‍‌ name?”

It⁠‍ was Timon Baertz.⁠

Aint‌ was surprised. He‍‌ had been looking‌ for a chance‌ to approach him,‍⁠ but hadn’t expected‌⁠‍ the other to‍⁠ take the initiative.‌

— Maybe because he’s‍⁠‌ a corrupt and‍‌‌ wants to size‍‌‌ you up?

Maybe.‍⁠ Though again, Aint‌⁠ couldn’t feel any‍‍ demonic energy from‍‌ him. [1]

— Say anything. Staying quiet would look‌ weirder.

“You’re‌⁠ the second-ranked in‌ the first year,‌ after all.”

“What⁠‍‍ an honor! An‍‌ immense honor!”

‘Hm?’⁠‌‍

— That reaction is‌ strange.

Even‌‍ Aint found it⁠ overly exaggerated. Of⁠ course, it could‍⁠ just be an‍‍ act.

According‍⁠⁠ to Gardner, a thousand years ago⁠ there were countless‌ demons and corrupts⁠‌⁠ who gained the‍⁠‌ humans’ trust by‍ acting friendly and‌ flattering.

“There’s‍ no need to‍ exaggerate over something‍‍ as simple as⁠‍ me knowing your name…”

“Of⁠⁠ course there is!‌‍ It’s a huge‍ honor that the‍⁠ great heir of‌ the Armian knows⁠‍ my name!”

— He’s seeing things‍ through the lens⁠ of a thousand‍ years ago. Back‌ then, the Emperor‌‌ was a hero,⁠‌ and people revered‌‍‍ him with devotion.⁠

“…Really?”‍‌

“Absolutely!”⁠

Aint‌‍ hesitated, unsure of how to respond.‌‍‍

He’d‌⁠ never thought of⁠ himself that way,‍ so it felt‍ strange.

— Think about it.‍ Reacting with such‌ fervor is like‍ confirming himself as‌‍⁠ a corrupt.

— A thousand years⁠‍‌ ago, the Emperor⁠ truly annihilated demons‍‌ and killed that‌‌ bastard Colomo, so‌ they revered him‍⁠ as a hero. But you, right‌ now, haven’t done‌⁠‌ anything to warrant‌ that level of‌‍ devotion.

Yes,‍ he had done things. But not⁠‍ to the degree⁠‍‌ of deserving that‍‍ kind of reverence.‍‍‌ Gardner was right—it‌ didn’t add up.

Then‌‌ there was only‍ one explanation left.‍‌

— Damn demons. A thousand years have‌ passed and they⁠‍ still think the world is the‌‍ same.

— That guy is‌⁠‌ a corrupt, no⁠‍ doubt. Just following‍⁠‌ an outdated order‍ from a demon.‍

An‌‍ approach stuck in⁠ the past.

And‌‍ considering that demons‌‌‍ had only just‌⁠ begun reappearing after‌⁠‍ a millennium, it⁠‌ made sense they⁠‍‍ didn’t understand the‌ changing times.

Even‍‍ Gardner had needed‌‌ time to adapt‌⁠ to the new‍‍‍ world after awakening⁠ from centuries of⁠⁠ sleep.

‘That‌‍ does make sense.’⁠

— Even better. With‌‍ such an outdated‌ mindset, he’ll probably‌ accept anything you‍‌⁠ ask.

So‌⁠ say it straight.‍⁠

“Your skill is quite⁠‌ good. Interested in‍ having a duel‌‌‍ with me?”

“A‍ duel? With… with⁠ me, senior?”

“Yes.”‍

Aint⁠ nodded slowly, carefully watching Timon’s reaction.‌⁠

Dilated‌‌ pupils, slightly open‍‍⁠ mouth, face flushed‍ with excitement.

“I⁠‌⁠ accept! Gladly!”

And⁠⁠ immediately, his rapid⁠‌ nods and feverish‌‌ enthusiasm confirmed something‍ was wrong.

‘Gardner‌⁠ was right.’

After⁠‍⁠ all, Aint had‍⁠ defeated Andromalius far from witnesses, and⁠‌ in that victory,‍ Fernan and Luina‌ had played more‌‍⁠ decisive roles.

No‌‌ rumors had spread‍‍ of his other‍⁠ fights, aside from‌‍⁠ the incident at⁠ the Continental Academic⁠ Conference.

So‌ there was no‍ reason Timon should⁠⁠ idolize him so‌‌ passionately—unless he was‍ a corrupt following‌ an outdated order.‌

“What⁠ an honor! I can’t believe I have the chance to cross swords‍‌ with you, senior‌‍ Aint!”

— He just sang‍ like a canary!‌‍‌

‘So⁠‌‍ what do I do now?’

— Knock him halfway‍‌ out. Leave him‍ unconscious. We already‍⁠‍ know he’s a corrupt; all that’s‍⁠ left is final‌‍ confirmation.

— So knock him‌ out—safely.

‘Got‍‍ it.’

“Then,⁠ shall we head to the duel‍ grounds?”

“Yes,‌⁠ of course!”

Aint‍ headed toward the⁠⁠‍ practice field with⁠‌ Timon.

***⁠⁠

‘Oh⁠⁠ my god…! Our⁠ eyes met!’

Their eyes met. Timon Baertz barely managed‌ to keep his⁠ expression from collapsing.

‘Senior⁠ Aint looked at‍ me…!’

Questions⁠⁠ like ‘how did‍‍ a second-year get‌‌ into a first-year‍‍‍ duel class?’ or‍‍‍ ‘why is he watching first-year duels?’‍⁠‌ only flickered through his mind for‌ an instant.

None‍⁠⁠ of that mattered.‌⁠

What‌‌ mattered was that‌ he had seen⁠‍‌ Aint, they had‍ made eye contact,‌ and now he⁠ had a chance‌ to show his‍‌‍ skills in front‍ of him.

‘Was he disappointed? I should’ve finished it⁠ more impressively…!’

Luckily,‍‌‌ he had managed‍⁠⁠ to win.

‘What‌⁠ will senior think⁠ of me…? The hero of the Armian is my‌ senior! Thank goodness⁠‌ I entered the‌‌ Academy…!’

When‍⁠ he was a child, Timon had⁠ come across the book The Great‍‍ Biography of the⁠‌‌ First Emperor by‍‌⁠ chance.

From⁠ then on, he⁠‌ was fascinated by‌ the just knighthood‌‌ and greatness of‌‌ the First Emperor.‍‌

The⁠ emperor who annihilated⁠⁠ demons.

The‍ knights who rode⁠‌ alongside him across⁠‍ the continent.

That‍‍ book became his⁠ ideal, the guide‌⁠‍ for his path.‌‍

To⁠‌ become a knight.‌ To be like⁠ them.

That⁠ was how he‍‍‌ picked up a weapon.

But‍ as he grew‌⁠ older, he came⁠‍‌ face to face‍⁠‍ with two harsh‍‍ realities.

First,‌‍‍ the Armian house⁠ had fallen.

Second,‌⁠ the demons no⁠‌ longer existed.

‘…The‍‌ demons were exterminated⁠ by the First Emperor a thousand‌‌ years ago, and the Armian, after losing the throne…’‌

Were⁠ left nearly destroyed.

The disappointment he felt⁠⁠ back then was‍⁠⁠ indescribable.

But‍⁠ everything suddenly changed.⁠

【After‍‌ a long silence,⁠ the Armian return⁠ to the world—Aint‍‌ Armian, admitted to‌‍ the Academy. Rank:‌‌ 38th!】

Even⁠⁠ though that 38th⁠ place was disappointing,⁠⁠ it meant the Armian had finally‍ awakened from their‌ silence.

【The‌ corrupt attack the⁠‌‌ Continental Academic Conference!】‌

It⁠ was as if⁠‍ the corrupt had been waiting—they began⁠ stirring the world.‌

‘No,⁠ I had it⁠⁠ backwards.’

It‍‍ wasn’t that the⁠⁠ demons appeared after⁠‌ Aint Armian returned.‌‌

It‌‍ was that Aint‍ appeared because it‍⁠ was already known‍ the demons would‍ return.

To⁠⁠ save the world⁠‌ from them.

Timon’s⁠‍ heart pounded when⁠‌ he realized that truth.

And‌‍ the news that⁠⁠ that very Aint,⁠ who had entered‌ ranked 38th, had‍ soon become first‍ of his class,⁠⁠ excited him even more.

Timon‌ began to imagine⁠⁠‌ himself riding alongside‍ Aint, cutting down⁠‍⁠ demons together, like⁠ in the tales‌‍⁠ of the First‌ Emperor.

The⁠‍⁠ flame that had‍ nearly gone out‍ reignited stronger than ever.

That’s‍ how he entered‌‌ the Academy.

Perhaps‍ he would have‌ done so anyway,⁠‍‌ even if Aint⁠ didn’t exist, but‍‌ in the end,⁠ it was because of him.

‘But‌‌ I never thought⁠‌ I’d see him‌ so soon! And‍ that he’d come⁠ to observe our‌‌‌ duels!’

They‍ had locked eyes.‌‌ Maybe he hadn’t‍ come specifically for⁠‌‍ him, but he‍ was sure he⁠‌ had at least⁠‌‍ piqued his interest.‍

‘Even‌ if I lost‌‍‌ to that muscle‌ brute Altrierc, I’m‌⁠ still second in⁠ the year!’

When⁠ class ended, Timon‍ silently followed Aint‌ out of the‌ classroom.

He‍‍ didn’t know why.‍ He just wanted to talk to⁠⁠ him.

Others‍‌ might think differently,‌ but to him,‌ Aint Armian was‍⁠ his ideal.

He⁠ ran until he‌‌ caught up.

“Senior‌ Aint!”

Aint stopped.

“Timon‌‌ Baertz?”

“You‌‌ really know my‌⁠ name?”

“You’re‍⁠ the second-ranked in‌ first year, right?”‍‍⁠

“What⁠‍ an honor! An⁠‍ immense honor!”

He‌⁠ couldn’t believe it!⁠⁠ He knew his name! He felt‍ as if light⁠ was shining on‌‍ him from behind.‌‍

The⁠‌‌ problem was he⁠⁠‌ hadn’t thought about⁠⁠ what to do‌ next.

“It’s not that big a deal. I just know your‌ name…”

“Of course it is!‍ It’s an immense⁠‌ honor that the‍ great heir of⁠ the Armians knows‍‍‍ my name!”

Aint‌ hesitated a second,‍‍ glanced aside, and‍ replied:

“Oh,‌⁠ really?”

“Absolutely!”‌

Timon‍‍⁠ nodded eagerly.

To‌‌‌ him, the Armians‍‍ were heroes, and⁠ he wanted Aint‍⁠ to recognize his⁠‌ worth.

“Your‌ skill is quite‍⁠‌ good. Want to‍ have a duel‍ with me?”

The‍‌ unexpected proposal left⁠⁠ him breathless.

“A‍‍‍ duel? Me, with‍ you, senior?”

Timon‍‍‌ froze for a second.

A duel? With Aint⁠ Armian?

Really?⁠⁠

“Yes.”⁠

Aint’s⁠ nod was like‌ a fireball straight‍‌ to Timon’s heart.⁠‍

His‍⁠ heart was racing,⁠‍ and his breath⁠ grew ragged.

A duel… with senior⁠⁠ Aint?

With‌ that hero?

“I‌ accept!”

There‍ was no reason⁠ to refuse. On⁠‍‌ the contrary, he’d‍ have begged on‍‍ his knees if⁠‍⁠ he had to.‌

“What‌‌ an honor! To⁠ be able to cross swords with‍‌ you, senior Aint!”⁠‍

Just‌ in case he changed his mind,⁠ he reaffirmed it.⁠

Fortunately,‌ Aint didn’t take⁠⁠‌ it back. Just⁠‌‍ like a true hero.

“Shall⁠‌ we go to⁠‍ the duel grounds?”⁠‌

“Yes, of course!”

They‍ walked together to‌⁠ the arena.

Timon tried to calm his racing heart.‌

‘This⁠ is a test.’‍

A test to see⁠‍ if he was‌‌ destined to fight‍ alongside a hero,‍ to be part⁠‌⁠ of a great‍ epic.

‘I‍⁠ must give it‌ my all to‌‍ earn his attention.’

He⁠ steeled his resolve.⁠‍ Even if he‌‌ used all his strength, he believed‍⁠ Aint would be‌‍ able to handle‌ it.

And⁠ that belief was⁠ confirmed when—

“…Huh?”⁠

In‍ barely ten exchanges,‌ his sword went‍‌ flying.

“He’s⁠‍ incredibly strong!”

He‍‍ was different from‌‍ Alcmion. Faster, more precise, with better‍ combinations.

‘Yes,⁠‍ this is how a hero’s sword‌ should be!’

Nothing⁠‌ like Alcmion’s brute⁠‌ strength. Aint’s sword‌ radiated elegance and‌‍ nobility.

The‍ only regret was‌ having lost his⁠ sword in so‌‍ few exchanges.

Frustration‍ welled up—what if⁠ he wasn’t worthy‍‌ of standing beside⁠ him?

“Senior,‌ would you allow‍ me to try‍ again?”

“Of‍‍‍ course.”

Luckily,⁠‍⁠ Aint gave him⁠⁠‌ another chance.

His⁠‍ generosity was just⁠⁠ as described in⁠ The Great Biography‌ of the First⁠⁠ Emperor.

Timon‍ picked up his‍ sword and fought‌‍‌ again, this time⁠‍ with full strength‌‌ from the start.‌

─!⁠

But‍‍ the result didn’t‍‍‍ change—he lost his⁠‌⁠ weapon again.

The‍⁠ only consolation was‌ having lasted a bit longer.

‘I’m‍ a frog in‍ a well!’

He⁠‌ thought he was⁠‌ on the same‍‍‌ level, but the‌‍‌ gap was immense.‌

“I‌⁠ lost… Next time,‍‍ for sure…”

“No,‍⁠ you didn’t lose.”‌‍‍

“Huh?”‌

“Pick⁠ up your sword.”⁠‌

“…What?”⁠

Only‌‌ then did he‍‍ notice something was‌‍‌ wrong.

“Come‍ on, Timon. You⁠ said you wanted‌‌ a duel, didn’t‌ you?”

“B-but‍‍ the match already…”⁠

“It’s‍ not over till‌ it’s over.”

“But‌ I already…”

Aint’s⁠‌ aura surged into‌‌ his sword, and⁠ Timon, terrified, had⁠⁠‍ to pick up his own again.

───!‍

And‍‍ he lost it‍ again.

“Pick⁠ it up.”

He‌ picked it up.‌

“S-senior…‍ please…!”

“Raise‌‍⁠ your sword.”

──!

“Raise⁠‍ it.”

─!‍‍‌

“Sword.”‍‍

After‍ nearly ten more⁠‍⁠ exchanges, Timon’s energy‍ was depleted.

Every⁠ muscle screamed in⁠⁠‍ pain, and internal‌ injuries left him‍ drained.

Plop—‌

“Po…‌ wer… f…”

In⁠ the darkness that⁠‍ enveloped him, he‌ heard the senior’s‌‌ voice.

There⁠⁠ was no one else in the‌‌‍ arena, so who was he talking‌‍ to?

He‌ felt a warm⁠⁠ aura enter his‌ body.

Could‌ the senior be…?⁠

— He says… there is no…

‘No, impossible. He wouldn’t‍⁠‌ do that. It’s‌ just my imagination,‍‌‍ from the state‌‍ I’m in.’

The‌‍ pain wracking his⁠‌ body was unbearable.⁠‌‍

And‌⁠‌ the energy he⁠ felt had already‌ vanished.

He⁠‌ chuckled to himself⁠‌ at the absurdity of his own‍ delusion.

— He’s… smiling.

With‍⁠ those words, Timon’s‍ vision went completely⁠‌ dark.

T/N:‍‌⁠

(1):‍ Instead of “corrupt‌‍⁠ magic” I used‍‌ “demonic energy,” though‌‌ I’m still not⁠‍ sure whether to⁠‌‍ keep this term.‌ It may vary‍⁠ in the future.‍