The cadets walked to the outdoor training grounds for the sparring session. Among them, one particular cadet was visibly pale, trembling and muttering under his breath.
Albert was practically on the verge of tears, and his voice shook with despair. “Why? Why me? Why is it always me?”
As if drawn to his misery, Elisha approached him, her sharp heels clicking steadily across the stone floor. “You’re Albert Hoover, correct?”
“Y-yes! That’s right!”
Elisha activated her Hero Watch, bringing up a holographic list of cadet profiles, and examined his. “Third-year cadet, ranked 237 out of 472 and a member of the Warrior Division. Primary weapon is the sword. You have the Earth God’s soul stigmata and no divine blessings. Accurate?”
Albert gulped and nodded nervously. “Y-yes, ma’am!”
“Hmmm.” Elisha pulled a cigarette from her coat and placed it between her lips. Her silver-haired assistant, Vincent, stepped forward with a lighter and lit it for her.
“Mediocre,” she muttered. By all metrics, Albert was the definition of average.
Albert replied, “Um, Professor, wouldn’t someone with better grades be more suitable?”
She exhaled a stream of smoke and powered off her Hero Watch. “No. You’re perfect. I want to assess exactly what an average third-year cadet looks like.”
Albert wanted to argue that plenty of other cadets matched his level or, better yet, were more suited for the demonstration, but he bit his tongue. “O-okay.”
“Step to the center of the arena,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Albert trudged forward like a man on his way to the gallows.
“The sparring match will be conducted with real weapons and mana, combat as it would be on the battlefield,” she added.
“W-wait, actual combat?!” Albert was flustered.
“Exactly. Fight as if you’re aiming to kill.”
“But what if someone gets seriously hurt?”
“That won’t happen,” she said flatly. Then she turned her gaze toward her assistant. “Vincent.”
Vincent calmly walked toward the arena. “Yes, Professor.”
Elisha spoke in a quiet, almost gentle tone to his back, “Go easy on him.”
Vincent gave a small nod. “Understood.”
“Go easy?” Albert had seemingly caught that last remark. His eyes twitched with irritation as he gripped his sword. She had just told him to fight like he meant to kill, but told her assistant to go easy? Even if she hadn’t said it directly, the implication was clear: she didn’t consider Albert a serious opponent for her assistant.
“Hah!
His soul stigmata glowed, and mana surged across his entire body. Without waiting for the signal, he exploded into motion, charging at Vincent with his sword raised. A swift, sharp strike targeted Vincent, who hadn’t even unsheathed his sword.
“Oh? A preemptive strike?” Elisha muttered.
It was not a bad move. Before someone who was clearly stronger, catching them off guard was one of the only viable tactics. In a standard sparring match, it would’ve been considered rude, but under real-combat conditions? It could earn Albert some praise.
Elisha’s lips curled into a cold smirk. “However, it’s sloppy.”
Clang!
With a flash of silver and a clean metallic ring, Albert’s sword was deflected mid-swing, bouncing away harmlessly.
“Ugh!” Shock reverberated up through Albert’s arms, but he gritted his teeth and held onto his sword. Steadying his footing, he gathered his mana once more. This time, it flowed directly into his blade. With a shout, he lunged again.
Elisha narrowed her eyes. “He’s putting too much power into it. His mana distribution is all over the place.”
Vincent skillfully deflected the blow, then flicked out a light kick to Albert’s knee.
“Wha—”
Having funneled all of his mana into his sword, Albert had no stability left in his stance. He stumbled and fell flat on his face. Groaning, he clutched his nose as blood trickled out.
When a cold, silver blade rested gently against his neck, he shouted, “I-I yield.”
Vincent said nothing. He slid his sword back into its sheath and turned away without a word.
From the sidelines, Elisha watched this with a displeased frown. Her eyes turned toward the other cadets, who had been observing the sparring session. “Next.”
The next cadet gulped and hesitated. Under the heavy silence, he slowly stepped forward, and the sparring resumed.
Once again, within thirty seconds, the cadet was disarmed and collapsed onto the training ground, letting out a groan.
“Next.”
This pattern repeated five more times, every match nearly identical in outcome.
Then, Elisha raised a hand, signaling the end of the session. “That’s enough.”
She let out a long sigh and rubbed her forehead like she had a migraine. “Pathetic.”
She turned to Lucas, eyes sharp and unflinching. “If this is the level of third-year cadets, then the fact that no one died during the recent demon incident was nothing short of a miracle. Tch! Professor Kane.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her voice dropped lower, more cutting. “Do you believe this pitiful state is the fault of the cadets or a reflection of your incompetence as a professor?”
“That would be my fault,” Lucas replied calmly.
Elisha let out a cold, scornful chuckle. “Is that so? Then this will be quick. You’ll take responsibility and resign from your position.”
Lucas’s eyes widened. “W-wait a moment. If I resign, who will oversee the cadets?”
“Your position will be filled by Vincent.”
“He’s an assistant, not a professor!”
“So what? Vincent may fall short of you in terms of raw power, but when it comes to discipline and guidance, I believe he surpasses you.”
Lucas’s expression stiffened.
At that moment, one of the cadets stepped forward, his legs trembling. “T-that’s not true!”
Lucas was surprised to see the cadet. “Albert?”
“E-even though Professor Kane is fierce and eccentric, has a terrible personality, makes weird things like special juice, and constantly torments me whenever he’s bored...”
“Hey, you little punk,” Lucas said.
“S-still! He’s a good professor!”
The cadet’s outburst made Elisha let out a brief snort of laughter. “And what exactly about all that makes him a ‘good professor’?”
“T-that is... I mean, I may not know much, but this one thing I know for sure!” Albert gulped nervously, then shouted with all his might, “Professor Kane is someone who teaches us what it truly means to be a hero!”
A heavy silence fell over the training grounds after Albert’s declaration.
Elisha let out a hollow laugh. “Hah! A true hero. Are you still going around spouting that nonsense?”
She turned to Lucas with an icy smile. “In the end, a hero is someone who can slaughter the most demonic monsters and demons. All this talk of ‘true heroes’ is nothing more than useless idealism. A powerless hero can protect no one, nothing. A strong hero is the only real hero. Anything less isn’t even worthy of the title; they’re just trash.”
Her sharp gaze swept across the cadets. “By that logic, none of you are even qualified to be called hero cadets. You’re all just trash.”
Her brutal words left the cadets silent, stunned like a deer caught in headlights.
Quietly lowering his head, Lucas ground his teeth together. “Did you just call my students trash?”
“Yes. Am I wrong?”
Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his trembling fist.
***
As if something had occurred to him, Professor Kane slowly turned to look at me with a wide, toothy grin.
What now? Why is he smiling at me all of a sudden?
He said, “Hehehe. Well, since you’re bringing out an assistant, I’ll call mine too.”
I am not your assistant, old man, I said to him in my mind.
Apparently, my silent protest went unheard, because Professor Kane walked right over and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “How about this then? Let him spar with your assistant.”
“He is?” Professor Baldwin tilted her head and pulled up the cadet roster. “Name: Dale Han. Ranked 472nd out of 472. Uses a sword as a primary weapon and has the Forest God’s soul stigmata. No blessings. Is that right?”
“That’s correct.” Professor Kane confirmed.
With an incredulous expression, she turned to Professor Kane. “Are you joking?”
Cadets ranked far above 472 had collapsed after barely two exchanges with Vincent. Yet he wanted me to spar with Vincent?
She said, “Enough nonsense. If you really want another spar, send out the highest-ranked cadet in your class.”
“No. Dale may have ranked low due to certain circumstances, but his skills are real.”
Professor Baldwin scoffed with open disdain. “I was trying to be civil for old times’ sake, but this is getting annoying.”
She probably thought that even if my ranking was artificially low, being the last-place cadet, I could not be much stronger than the others.
Smiling, Professor Kane asked, “So? Will you accept the duel or back out?”
“Duel? Back out? Why would I waste my time with a bottom-ranked cadet?”
Professor Kane said, “Scared?”
Professor Baldwin pulled a cigarette from her coat and stuck it between her lips. Instead of lighting it, she chewed it like gum, then turned to her assistant. “Vincent.”
“Yes, Professor?”
“Seems our watchdog’s got a headache. Help him clear his head.”
Vincent nodded quietly. “Understood.”
Professor Kane grinned as he watched Vincent walk to the center of the training ground and take his place. Then he turned to me. “Dale.”
“What is it?”
“If you win, I’ll make you ten cups of my special juice.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Albert will drink them.”
Now that’s a tempting offer, I thought.
“Oh, alright. I’m not too thrilled about you being replaced either,” I said. If Professor Kane were forced to resign, I would lose access to his office, which I had been treating as my hideout.
Professor Kane called out to me again. “Dale.”
“What now?”
When I turned, he grinned at me, arms crossed, and said, “Go easy on him.”
I let out a small chuckle and nodded. “Understood.”