Academy’s Genius Swordmaster
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Academy’s Genius Swordmaster - Chapter 150: Audience (2)
Chapter 150: Audience (2)
“It’s surprising that there was a survivor. But why did they end up like that?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Ronan lifted his head in response to Navirose’s question. Five members of the Imperial Army were carrying the lieutenant, moving her onto a transport carriage. It was distressing to see her unconscious, her state utterly pitiful.
“It’s a pity. She was a great soldier.”
“Did you know her?”
“Yeah, I saw her a few times when she was in the Imperial Knights. What on earth did she witness…”
Navirose trailed off. Indeed, Nemea was originally an elite member of the Imperial Knights.
The lieutenant couldn’t seem to regain consciousness. While five others restrained her, she was in a state of hysteria, only ceasing her convulsions after receiving five doses of a sedative. Navirose, who had snatched Ronan’s pipe again, summoned the major from earlier.
“Hey, Major.”
“Yes, yes! Miss Navirose!”
“How long do you think it’ll take for Lieutenant Nemea to regain her senses?”
“I-I’m not entirely sure. Judging from her condition upon discovery, it’s expected to take quite some time. Even for a Werelion, she should be unconscious for at least two days…”
The major shook his head with uncertainty. Suddenly, Nemea’s actions flashed through Ronan’s mind. She was clearly afraid to make eye contact with him.
This was a significant clue. There were only three people, including myself, who had scarlet eyes, and could create such precise slashes.
‘Was it that bastard’s doing? But the swordsmanship seems too sloppy for it to be him.’
The more he pondered, the more his doubts grew. There was no fitting suspect. The robbed figure lacked the skills, and it felt completely different from that of the Savior.
‘…At least, where’s the one we rescued?’
The details would surface once the lieutenant regained her senses. Surprisingly, there were no severe injuries, so once she regained stability, she could likely provide sufficient testimony. Ronan gently stroked Cita’s head.
“You did well, Cita.”
“Pya~”
For now, Ronan decided to be content with saving at least one person. After confirming that the situation was over, Navirose opened her mouth.
“Let’s head back. You’ve worked hard.”
“You too, instructor.”
“A lot will change because of today’s incident…”
Navirose murmured softly. Ronan agreed. The fact that a newly established unit, under the Emperor’s command, had suffered such devastation in a place so close to the capital was by no means an issue to be easily overlooked. Especially since the Sword Saint, who is said to be the strongest of all time, was involved.
The sky had completely cleared by now. Despite the grim events, the bright sun was shining down upon the two.
They rode back along the path they had taken. They arrived at Philleon, just as they reached the gate, they noticed a majestic carriage parked in front.
“What’s that now?”
Ronan furrowed his brows. The students were buzzing around, admiring the carriage. An old man, dressed in fine attire, stood tall at the front, seemingly waiting for someone.
Well, they couldn’t pass through there. Ronan was about to turn the horse’s head when he suddenly made eye contact with the old man. Raising his hand, the old man spoke.
“Ah, you there. Please wait a moment.”
“Huh?”
The old man approached slowly. His goat-like beard was quite impressive. He scrutinized Ronan’s face as he spoke up.
“Master Ronan, correct?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Ah, good. You must come with me right away.”
The old man said in a firm tone. Ronan tilted his head. Unless he was suffering from dementia, he had no recollection of making an appointment with this old man.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m not in the best shape right now.”
“You must still come. I will provide you with a change of clothes.”
Ronan chuckled. It was so absurd that he wasn’t even angry. Just by looking at his clothes covered in blood and mud, one could tell that he was in no condition to be invited by anyone. Ronan, unable to bear it any longer, rolled his eyes and said.
“What’s with all this fancy bullshit, telling me to go with you as you wish? Did the Emperor invite me or something?”
“That’s correct.”
“…Huh?”
For a moment, Ronan’s brain froze. What was this old man saying? The Emperor? The old man bowed deeply.
“I apologize if my attitude seemed rude. Nevertheless, I urge you to come with me. His Majesty has urgently invited you.”
He added that they would provide a change of clothes. Ronan glanced at Navirose. She merely shrugged, seeming to say, ‘How would I know?’
“It seems like I won’t be able to spar today after all.”
“…Yeah, looks like it.”
“Well then, have a safe trip.”
Ronan dismounted from his horse and got on to the carriage. Instead, Nabirose took the reins and entered the inner part of the campus. The students watched the carriage with Ronan on it until it turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.
****
Unexpectedly, Ronan boarded the carriage and headed straight for the imperial palace. The fact that the palace guards didn’t make any objections meant that thankfully, it didn’t seem like a group of murderers exploiting the Emperor’s summons.
It was Ronan’s first time at the imperial palace. Even in his previous life, he’d only seen it from afar and had never set foot inside. He hadn’t imagined he would ever step foot inside in this lifetime either.
Considered the grandest and most beautiful building in the island, the heart of the millennial Empire. Ronan had yearned to witness its majestic and noble presence, but his attire, a ridiculous outfit that had consumed all his time and energy to don, prevented that desire.
“Damn, is this right? I can’t even breathe in this.”
“I apologize. Your physique turned out to be better than anticipated…”
“And why is it so flashy? I’m not some wild parrot.”
“It’s a formal attire that was crafted some time ago… I’d appreciate your understanding.”
Frowning deeply, Ronan adjusted his collar. The clothes the old man had provided were among the most dreadful garments he had ever worn.
Aside from constricting him like a silk python, the outfit was adorned with ostentatious decorations that seemed visible from a hundred meters away. If there had been one more decoration, Ronan would have plucked all of the old man’s beard to affix them to his forehead.
He remembered once trying on a potato sack with holes ripped through it, and even that seemed more practical in comparison. The old man remarked.
“Ah, the sword, you can leave it with me.”
“You damn… can’t even take my sword?”
“Please understand, since you are about to meet His Majesty. I’ll keep it safe.”
To meet the Emperor, he had to entrust anything resembling a weapon. In hindsight, it was an obvious requirement, but it still felt ambiguous. The moment Ronan reluctantly turned in his swords was the peak of his exasperation. Krrrrggh! The carriage came to a halt.
“We’ve arrived.”
The coachman opened the door. Instead of the grand castle or beautiful gardens, there was a tunnel-like space for carriages outside. Frustrated for not getting to see the palace at all, Ronan muttered curses.
“Damn it.”
“This way.”
****
Goat-like beard brazenly guided Ronan. The place they entered after being guided by him was a spacious area that seemed like a reception room.
In the ornate room, furniture and decorations for relaxation were placed in appropriate spots. On the opposite wall, there was another grand door, probably leading to an audience chamber. The old man spoke.
“Please rest comfortably. His Majesty will summon you shortly.”
“Disappear.”
The old man retreated like the wind. Ronan brushed his bangs aside and took a deep breath. It had been a chaotic day. In truth, he felt as if he might be deep in slumber, doubting whether this was all just a dream.
He wasn’t alone in the reception room. Three people had arrived before him. Unlike Ronan, they were dressed elegantly, each taking their leisure. Ronan froze in his place as his gaze landed on one of them.
“…Huh?”
A well-dressed Werelion sat on the couch, reading a book. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, it was unmistakably someone he knew. Ronan managed to compose himself and approached. He tapped the Werelion’s shoulder.
“Varen.”
“Hmm?”
The Werelion turned his head. His eyes widened as they met Ronan’s. Varen closed the book and rose slowly.
“…Ronan? Is it really you?”
“It’s been a while.”
“Oh, how long has it been?”
It had been two years since they last met. Varen opened his arms and embraced him. There was a scent of gentlemanly cologne rather than the overpowering scent of a beast. After wiping his eyes with a handkerchief, Varen spoke.
“You’ve really grown a lot. How have you been?”
“Ah, alright, in my own way. Where has the professor been?”
“Ah, I was in Patar in the south. I just finished up and returned yesterday.”
“South? Finished up?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. This was the first time he had met Varen after the holidays. He had heard that Varen had left Philleon for some reason, but he suddenly went to the south? Varen continued.
“We couldn’t grow medicinal herbs due to the winter’s severity. You, my friend, are a true hero for me.”
Varen grabbed Ronan’s hands and bowed repeatedly. He mentioned how Ronan’s efforts had saved the herbs from dying during the winter, brought on by a witch.
Ronan nodded in understanding. He couldn’t let all those herbs die, especially when there was a business involved. He asked.
“So, what’s happening here?”
“We received summons from His Majesty. There are a few others besides us. In my case, I was recognized for my contribution to distributing free potions to people shivering in the cold.”
All the people gathered in the reception room were those who had stood up during the island’s winter crisis. The middle-aged noble who had grown his beard allowed logging in his forest to secure firewood, while the elegantly dressed lady sold her jewels to distribute food and clothing among citizens.
In short, everyone was being honored. The only thing Ronan was curious about was why they called him so suddenly after previously telling him to come at a convenient time.
Besides the ridiculous attire, there wasn’t much to complain about. Passing the time with lingering joy from the reunion with Varen was neutralizing the anger accumulated since morning.
“Well, let’s sit for now. So, when I was in the south, I encountered this Warelioness…”
Ronan was about to continue when—Bang! The door to the reception room was forcefully opened. Everyone turned their heads.
A dark and massive shadow loomed, with each step blood mixed with water dripped down. The old man who had guided Ronan hurriedly followed, shouting.
“Ah, Sword Saint! You can’t! Please dress properly!”
“Shut it.”
The shadow growled lowly. The old man stiffened in his place. Everyone in the reception room did the same. Ronan’s mouth slowly fell open.
“Zaifa.”
“…You?”
Zaifa turned her head. As she faced Ronan, she halted. Ronan’s sight on Zaifa, who he hadn’t seen in a while, was anything but pleasing.
Her entire body was soaked, and her pants were so blood soaked that it seemed as if they were originally red.
Ronan had heard she had gone to apprehend the culprit who killed hre comrades in the morning, but it seemed she hadn’t achieved any significant results. Just by looking at her, Ronan could feel the rage seething within Zaifa. Thud! Zaifa, who had been staring at Ronan for a while, slapped the ground with her tail.
“Ronan.”
Suddenly, she started walking decisively toward Ronan. Overwhelmed by the force, the crowd stepped back. From above, Zaifa’s red eyes were glinting fiercely.
It seemed far too intense for just a conversation. With no real defense in mind, Ronan kept his hands in his pockets, staring at Zaifa.
Suddenly, the words of Zaifa in the past flashed through Ronan’s mind.
‘No way.’
She had mentioned sensing the Nebula Clazier. Even though she couldn’t see the shimmering mana, she could feel it. And at that moment, a heart made of sparkling mana was pulsating in Ronan’s chest.
‘Am I done for?’
A sudden shiver ran down his spine. Unfortunately, he didn’t even have his swords. Zaifa’s index finger was almost as thick as Ronan’s wrist. Their distance had almost closed.
“Hehe, Sword Saint. Do you have any business with my student?”
Unexpectedly, Varen blocked Zaifa’s path. With a rueful smile, he spoke. Zaifa frowned.
“Step aside, compatriot.”
“I cannot.”
“Why are you interrupting? We’re old friends. Just want to have a chat.”
“You should calm down first. Your body’s on the brink of collapse.”
Varen looked serious. Though Zaifa growled softly, he didn’t back down. Varen’s dark fur bristled sharply.
While Zaifa was larger overall, Varen didn’t flinch. The pressure emanating from both beasts filled the space. Veins bulged on Zaifa’s muscular arms.
“You…”
She was about to say something when—Squeak… Suddenly, the door on the opposite side swung open, and a gorgeously dressed woman walked in with elegant steps.
A momentary silence fell. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gazed at her. The woman spoke.
“Everyone, please come in. His Majesty is ready.”