Chapter 343: End of the Inter-Academy Tournament (1)

I never agreed with that saying, “defeat is the mother of victory.” Like I said, I’ve barely ever lost to anyone in my life.

It’s not like I only got involved in things where I had an advantage—everything I wanted to do just happened to turn out the way I intended.

In short, I almost never had the chance to use a loss as a stepping stone toward some future triumph.

And to be honest, while I’m not quite on Abel’s level, I’m pretty competitive too.

If I’d ever settled, cooled down, or made excuses for myself, the honorable title of the country’s best swordsman would’ve already been taken from me.

But still—

“Uuaaaaahhhhhh—!”

The thrill of the tournament was still alive. You’d think it would’ve settled down over time, but instead, the fervor only seemed to grow.

I could understand it on the day of the event itself. It would’ve been a bit sad if the excitement had died out in just one day.

But people showed no signs of fatigue, continuing to praise Victoria and me for the fight we’d put on, over and over again.

Victoria, for her part, had to keep signing autographs for every single person who approached her. A pleasant kind of torment, so to speak.

During the week remaining before the tournament finals, the two of us had to survive full-on “celebrity mode in the middle of the crowd.”

People looked at us with eyes full of almost sacred reverence.

Even Victoria, who at first seemed to enjoy the attention with a hint of shyness, eventually became completely overwhelmed.

She started avoiding crowded places and, from the third day on, shut herself in her room.

When Ji Changhyuk, the second-year representative, would leave a tray of food outside her door, only the empty dishes would remain soon after.

As an added note, all that food had been lovingly prepared by yours truly. Anyway.

Despite the loss, the world acknowledged us. In fact, if we had won, I’m not even sure the reaction would’ve been this intense. Probably not.

‘People are celebrating precisely because we lost.’

Why?

Even if they enjoyed the content of the match, from the perspective of someone who lived through it, the level of euphoria felt way too intense.

“…We lost, and they’re this happy?”

Had people been secretly longing for a story where the Heavenly Sword was defeated?

Maybe I’ve got too much of a rebellious streak, but even when I try to think positively, I end up getting defensive.

It’s a bad habit. Keeping your guard up all the time just causes the human soul to wither.

I’ll have to either correct it or find another habit to replace it. Though doing either immediately is next to impossible.

The ones who had always served as anchors for this kind of unstable thinking were my family.

***

It was the fifth day. I watched the sunset as the weariness slowly faded. The entire room was wrapped in light from a huge window.

Swiss nature stretched beyond like a canvas painted with perfect precision.

In the distance, Castle Sigurd stood in solemn, imposing solitude.

The contrast between the green pastures and the white velvet that had protected that place for millennia was a work of art that never ceased to awe.

Even the winding path skirting the castle walls had a kind of aesthetic charm.

I was trying to get into a contemplative mood when Ryozo snorted playfully.

“Lucky Heavenly Sword. Win or lose, people go crazy for you. Me, on the other hand—as the director—I can do nine things right, but make one mistake and suddenly I’ve sold out the country.”

She was clearly teasing me, and yes, she meant it. But that was her way of consoling—biting, sure, but a thousand times more effective than any cheap sympathy.

“And what if they’re teasing me too, Director? Or maybe… this is all a hidden camera prank everyone planned while I was stuck in the Demon Realm.”

“…”

“…”

“…You…”

Ryozo tilted her head at a strange angle.

“W-wait, how did you know…?”

“Sorry, Ryozo. This is the seventh time you’ve pulled this stunt.”

“Tsk. Boring.”

She looked genuinely disappointed. Said she missed the wild, rough kid I used to be in my teenage years.

It was then, during our lighthearted exchange, that Ryozo rested her head on my shoulder and gently rubbed my back as twilight deepened around us.

“People aren’t cheering because you lost. It’s because through the two of you, they saw something beyond the outcome.”

“That’s odd. I thought most people only cared about the results—that they didn’t give a damn about the process.”

“That might be true for adults like us. But tell me, what’s the event we’re celebrating right now?”

“The inter-academy tournament.”

Ryozo smiled softly.

“People get it twisted, but academies aren’t about results—they’re about building the process. Midterms and finals are just checkpoints to confirm progress. They’re still part of the journey.”

“…So the tournament is part of that too.”

“Exactly. No one says it aloud, but deep down, everyone understands. Giving your all, finding a solution when everyone thought you’d lose… once they saw that, the result stopped mattering.”

A chill ran down my spine. Ryozo lightly poked the small of my back as she went on.

“The crown princess of the Kingdom of Victoria and the world’s mightiest Heavenly Sword—fighting like that, who wouldn’t be moved? Losing only made your journey shine even more.”

“Ah…”

“If you’d won, people would’ve mentioned the outcome a few times and that’d be it. Human interest is limited; it only fixates on one thing.”

Listening to her cleared my mind.

“The reason I was so surprised people were moved despite the loss… maybe it’s because I’ve never really lost to anyone before, Ryozo.”

“Don’t look at it as a loss, Geom-Ma. Just see it as part of the journey. After all, it’s only a tournament trial. And you didn’t really lose completely, right?”

“Right. There’s still one event left.”

“Ugh, my whole body aches.”

Ryozo feigned a groan and glanced sideways at me.

“Must be because we held class on a rare day off. I’m really feeling it.”

“And how does one pay for such a class, Director?”

“Hmm… if I charge too much, I might get sued. But my shoulders are tense. How about a massage?”

“Haha…”

Phew, seriously what am I going to do with this woman? She was so adorable, I almost wanted to bite her cheeks.

Crunch!

Ryozo and I looked down at the same time. Two distinct snouts were poking out from under the sofa—biting my ankles.

I lifted both legs in one swift motion. Tiny versions of Sköll and Hati, barely the size of a forearm, were hanging off my ankles, swinging slightly.

“Kkeng?”

Sköll and Hati tilted their heads, gums exposed. It was a different kind of cuteness. Like emotional support wolves.

“…Hey, you—white dog. And you—black dog.”

Sköll was the white one, Hati the black. Under Ryozo’s disapproving glare, the two let go and dropped to the floor.

“What are you doing here, instead of staying in your room, wrecking things?”

They covered their heads with their front paws and began to tremble. Ryozo put her hands on her hips and raised her voice.

“Kkeng…”

“Why are you crying now? Think crying solves everything? Fixes the world? Tsk! And you two—shut it already!”

The once-mighty Sköll and Hati had no defense against her scolding. They bawled openly, leaving wet patches on the carpet.

After the tournament, the twin wolves had shrunk down. Their massive, imposing bodies were no more.

According to Speedweapon, who had brought them from the Demon Realm, it was due to extreme exertion. They had used every fiber of their being, so their bodies contracted. They’re magical beasts that shrink when their energy’s depleted, but who would’ve thought they’d become this tiny?

I was largely to blame for their pitiful state, so I decided to take care of them until they returned to normal. Even beasts understood gratitude. And according to experts, they’d be back to adult size in three days.

But for now, they were still chihuahua-sized. Though they ate plenty—their cheeks puffed out and their bellies nearly touched the floor.

Just then, at Ryozo’s scolding, Sköll and Hati bolted with their tails between their legs and flung themselves into the arms of Abel, who had just exited her room. They rubbed up against her.

“Kkeng! Kkeng!”

“Hmm…? Are you hungry?”

Even half-asleep, Abel responded to their antics like she understood them. Ryozo, now leaning over the sofa, gave a dry laugh.

“Those two… I’m not sure they’re even animals. Did you see how sharp they are? If only our teachers were half as smart…”

Ryozo, looking a bit worn out, dusted herself off and walked off elsewhere. As if to take her place, Abel sat down beside me with the two fluffballs in her arms.

“Did Sköll and Hati do something to Ryozo? Pee on her leg or something?”

“It wasn’t pee… it was poop… Never mind.”

As I gave the furballs a warning glance, Abel hesitated a moment. Then, after thinking it over, she spoke with some difficulty.

“Hey… could you come with me to the catacombs for a bit?”

“Catacombs? The undead dungeon? At this hour of the night?”

“…Yeah.”

Abel lowered her voice.

“The final event of the inter-academy tournament is the day after tomorrow, right? I figured once I leave Switzerland, I’ll be so busy I won’t be able to come back for a while. I woke up thinking maybe… I should go visit my father while I still can…”

“And why are you saying that like you did something wrong? Of course you can go.”

“You sure? Today’s an odd-numbered day.”

Odd days were Ryozo’s responsibility.

“And why do you think Ryozo suddenly cleared out of here? Abel, I’m pretty sure she left because she knew you’d ask me this.”

At my words, Abel turned to the door Ryozo had exited through.

“You know how sharp she is. And how observant. Like you said, she knows you’ll be busy soon. So she’s telling you to go see your father.”

Maybe that wasn’t her original intention. But at this point, I had learned how to survive between two wives. Make each one look good in the eyes of the other.

“…Ryozo.”

Abel’s eyes grew wistful, then she nodded firmly. She set Sköll and Hati down. Then she came back wearing my black coat, draped it over my shoulders, and got herself ready to head out.

As I watched her prepare with energy, I warned her.

“We’re not using my magic today. You know the rule. No using magic on a day that doesn’t belong to you.”

“And how are we supposed to go? At this hour, there are no mountain buses. Should we call Shail?”

I’d rather face Ryozo’s sharp glares than ride in that motorized maid’s car. Just the thought made me shiver, and I shook my head.

“We’ve got a perfectly good, eco-friendly form of transport.”

My eyes locked onto Abel’s feet. Under that gaze, Sköll and Hati trembled.

“Whitey, Blackie.”

They tried hiding behind Abel, but I quickly bound their paws with a spell.

“Shouldn’t you two be earning your meals?”

I’d spent ten years with Ramzy Thunder. I had more than enough experience with beasts.

‘Speaking of which.’

I wonder if Lycan at least eats acorns or something.

***

At the same time.

In the main building of Parsy Academy, the waves of celebration had continued uninterrupted for five consecutive days.

Even if the victory was somewhat tainted, they had still beaten that Joaquin.

The shareholders toasted with champagne glasses to celebrate the win.

“Let’s drink! Let’s drink! For the glory of Parsy, for its bright future!”

“Hahaha, madam, aren’t you celebrating a bit early? There’s still one event left.”

Though they had partied for five days and nights, there wasn’t a hint of fatigue.

Even if the whole world praised Heavenly Sword and Victoria, they didn’t care.

The shareholders pretended to sincerely desire the glory of Parsy, but—

“The students will do their part. We adults only need to toast as we watch our Parsy shares rise. Cheers!”

They were far more intoxicated by the profits gained.

“Heh.”

The headmistress of Parsy watched the scene from a corner of the hall. Her brow was furrowed, clearly displeased.

“The ones who do the work are the bears, but those bastards reap the rewards.”

From the moment they started talking about the students, her blood had begun to boil.

Despite her petty appearance, there wasn’t a hint of disdain toward her students. That much, she could swear.

Precisely because of that, she endured the harassment from this greed-soaked nobility. If an academy soaked up this ideology like a sponge without a lid, the future of heroic society would be grim.

‘If it were up to Heavenly Sword, he’d have cut all their throats already.’

The headmistress’s wish was to see an aristocratic society that functioned properly.

“The nobility system, in its origin, was something healthy. As long as the concept of hereditary blessings exists, this order is like a second skin. The problem is, part of that skin has turned into infected tissue.”

Couldn’t she ally with Heavenly Sword and cut these bastards out from the root? The idea started drumming behind her teeth.

‘Stop fantasizing about the impossible,’ she told herself, taking a sip of iced water to cool her burning throat.

“Are you the headmistress?”

A woman with a hat pulled low over her eyes approached and asked. She even wore sunglasses. Clearly, she was going out of her way to appear suspicious.

The headmistress narrowed her eyes as well, matching the exaggerated disguise.

“Who are you?”

“A shareholder who goes by the pseudonym ‘Kitty.’”

“Kitty… Kitty… That name sounds familiar…”

“It’s normal you don’t remember. I invested right before the tournament.”

“Ah!”

The headmistress clapped.

“You were the one who bought a huge amount of our academy’s shares all at once! We finally meet. I wanted to thank you personally, but since you used a pseudonym, I couldn’t. My apologies.”

“There’s no need. I didn’t do it for recognition.”

“Even so, thank you. Unlike those other shareholders, your investment felt genuine, like a gesture of goodwill toward education. If there’s anything you want, just say it. I’ll do whatever I can.”

“…Then.”

When she shook her head, a lock of hair slipped from beneath the hat.

It was red. She tucked it behind her ear, as if that alone could betray her identity.

A second red strand?

Before the headmistress could react to the chill that ran down her spine, the woman took the lead.

“This is the list of all the shareholders present.”

At that moment, a small firework burst, causing the air to tremble. Her sunglasses slipped slightly.

“Please.”

The eyes behind the lenses gleamed with a crimson hue.