Academy’s Genius Swordmaster
Academy’s Genius Swordmaster - Chapter 166: The Festival of Swords (9)

Chapter 166: The Festival of Swords (9)

As the sun set, a quiet dusk settled. The twilight hues flowed along the darkening horizon.

After concluding his conversation with Russell, Ronan returned to the restaurant. His mind was tangled in various thoughts. Upon opening the door, a wave of warmth, the sizzling aroma of grilled meat, and the admiration of the people greeted him.

“How many servings is that, exactly?”

“Impressive. Just the three of them.”

“The Young Master hardly ate anything…”

Ronan, who was looking around to see if a fight might have broken out, chuckled. All eyes were focused on the table where Ronan’s party was seated. Navirose, Lynn, and Shullifen sat facing each other.

At that moment, the owner, with an apron tied around him, placed beer mugs made of cow horn and a large bowl in front of the three. The platter, larger than an ordinary tray, was piled high with succulent roasted boar. Glancing at Navirose, he spoke.

“Seems like you’re really enjoying it. Here’s some beer and roasted boar.”

“Thanks. I think I’m good at this point… Lynn, can you eat more?”

“Yeah. I want more.”

At Navirose’s suggestion, Lynn nodded. Their closeness was evident in their conversation. The owner, glancing at Navirose, spoke again.

With a somewhat awkward business smile, he headed back to the kitchen, and onlookers erupted in cheers again. It was worrisome to speculate how many dishes they had consumed to garner such a reaction. Just as the owner disappeared into the kitchen, Navirose, who was wiping Lynn’s mouth with a napkin, made eye contact with Ronan.

“Ronan, you’re late.”

“…Yeah, it just happened.”

“Sit down. I’ve ordered for you too.”

Navirose pointed to the chair across from her. Ronan, perched comfortably, swiftly downed the beer in front of him. The swaying empty mug finally came to a stop after a while. Thud! He roughly set down the drained glass.

“Puha… It’s quite good. Here.”

“Originally, Parzan’s beer is famous for its excellent taste. Some even come to participate in the Festival of Swords just to drink it. Bold move to follow smoking with drinking, though.”

“Not a Filion, so what’s the harm?”

Ronan chuckled. Despite a warning not to drink and even a sword pointed at his throat, he intended to drink today. He called the owner and ordered more beer. Navirose, scanning Ronan up and down, spoke up.

“Seeing as there were no blood stains, you finished it with the hilt, hmm?”

“Yes?”

“The guy who told you to follow him. His capability seemed lacking for his size, just as expected.”

It was Russell’s story. Although the atmosphere was hostile at the time, it seemed evident that he was certain about the killing, using the pretext of the duel. Lyn, nibbling on meat, sparkled her eyes with interest. Ronan shook his head.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I know.”

“Really?”

“I just said it since your expression was so dark. Do I have to explain such things to you?”

Navirose smirked. Seeing her making jokes, even ones she usually didn’t, it seemed like she was in a good mood. Only now did Ronan notice her slightly uplifted expression. He shrugged.

“How much did you drink, exactly?”

“A bit. My beloved disciples are achieving excellent results even in the Festival of Swords, so as their master, I should celebrate. Ahaha… I’m glad to have met you all.”

Ronan and Shullifen’s faces stiffened. If their ears weren’t broken; she had just referred to them as ‘beloved’ disciples. It seemed more than just an ordinary amount had been consumed. Ronan, unable to contain himself, laughed.

“Me too.”

“That’s right. Cute boys.”

Navirose, leaning forward, affectionately patted the heads of the two. It was quite a departure from her usual demeanor. After a while, she asked if they had any concerns a couple of times, but Ronan evaded the questions with subtle maneuvers.

It wasn’t clear if it was appropriate to talk about this. Especially when it involved her. Observing Ronan carefully, Lynn tugged at Navirose’s sleeve.

“Hmm? Why?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Ah, right. If you leave the restaurant and turn right…”

“I’m scared because it’s dark. Please come with me.”

Lynn said shamelessly. It wasn’t a statement befitting a self-proclaimed lady. Navirose, gazing at Lynn for a moment, nodded. She stood up, giving a pat on the heads of her two disciples.

“Take your time eating. I’ll come back after getting some fresh air.”

“Why don’t you just adopt her? If you two just walk around side by side, people might even believe you’re a mother and daughter.”

As naturally as if they were a mother and daughter, Navirose and Lynn were holding hands. Thud! Navirose punched Ronan in the head and headed out the restaurant, glancing back at Ronan before the door closed, she blinked one eye. Ronan laughed as if he were amazed.

“Just a bit… huh.”

It was obvious that he deliberately avoided the seat. As the spectacle disappeared, the attention of the drinkers naturally dispersed. With the table now empty, only Ronan and Shullifen remained.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?”

“I finished my meal about an hour ago.”

“Did you intentionally wait for me? Truly the behavior of a noble.”

“If you want, I can also leave my seat. Do you need some time alone to think?”

“…No, sit down. I guess I can tell you.”

Ronan shook his head. There was no one else to talk to but this kid. He conveyed the story he heard from Russell to Shullifen. The unsettling figure coming from the other side of the mountain, the high possibility of him being one of those who massacred the Dawn Brigade, and even the tale of the white-haired swordsman that Navirose had encountered once. Shullifen, who had been listening attentively, shook his head.

“It’s indeed something that could shake up the Instructor if she heard about it.”

“Yeah. We shouldn’t stir up trouble for no reason.”

The demon’s description that Russell provided matched the one who betrayed the Savior, someone likely to be Ronan’s biological father. The resemblance in appearance was striking. It could be a mere coincidence, but white hair and red eyes were not common features.

Of course, it might not be the robed figure himself. The way he wielded his sword and the exceptional skills hinted at a formidable opponent, but his swordsmanship was different from Ronan’s. However, the lingering thought that there might be a significant connection remained.

‘What is going to happen?’

Ronan twisted his lips. At the moment, there was unfortunately no legitimate reason to apprehend the demon. Aside from the fact that the shimmering mana found at the scene of the massacre was visible only to Ronan’s eyes, it could also have been a trace left by another accomplice. Even the atrocious act of cutting off the wrists did not violate any regulations.

‘Just crossing over would be a mess if that person isn’t the culprit.’

The most significant issue was that this place was Parzan, where the Festival of Swords took place. Sneaking through was virtually impossible from the start. To reach Aran Parzan, one had to cross the sacred place located at the summit, which, apart from being an inviolable area, was guarded directly by the elders overseeing the Festival of Swords. Each one of them was a formidable swordsman, at least of Swordmaster level, making it a challenging task even for a skilled individual to pass unnoticed.

‘I have to catch him, no matter what.’

Of course, if he showed the Dawn Crest it would likely resolve things, but Ronan felt it was not the right time yet. He sincerely didn’t want to miss the chance to apprehend the culprit. Instead of impulsively revealing himself, he needed to confront the enemy in a definite location. Shullifen expressed his sentiments.

“Confirmation should be the priority.”

“Yeah.”

Ronan nodded. A fortunate aspect was that the path narrowed as they ascended the mountain. Coming to the Festival of Swords suggested a high probability of someone seeking the Holy Sword. As the goal drew nearer, giving up became increasingly difficult. Finally reaching a conclusion, Ronan sighed.

“Damn it, whatever it takes, I’m going to go up there. I just feel sorry for the people on the other side.”

“It seems so. Have you finished your meal?”

“Huh?”

“I will spar with you. Shouldn’t we do our best during the remaining time?”

Shullifen rose, and as Ronan looked at him with a smirk, he chuckled. In retrospect, this guy’s consideration was always like this.

“Customer, the beer’s her… Oh?!”

Ronan snatched the beer the owner was carrying. His mood felt lighter than before.

“You know there’s no one to blame even if you die, right?”

Chuckling, Ronan followed Shullifen. Not long after, a rumble echoed from the middle of the mountain. Exactly one hour later, they were banned from sparring for the day on charges of destroying the terrain.

****

The screening test consisted of a total of four stages. With a break of two to three days between each test, the entire process took approximately a week.

Ronan and his group smoothly passed the second test. It was a capture the flag battle within designated zones, and perhaps due to the elimination of the stupid participants in the first test, the competition was much more spirited.

Most of those remaining were skilled individuals, often referred to as experts. In fact, Ronan identified a few individuals he’d consider recruiting as allies later.

“Ronan, after this festival is over, come to our kingdom. I’ll make sure you get whatever you want.”

“Why don’t you join our family? It’s an opportunity for you to break down the predetermined wall of status from birth… Huh? Are we more prestigious than the Acalusia family? Well, not really, but…”

An interesting point was that many of them desired Ronan. On the night after the second test, about twenty participants successively sought Ronan out. While their tones and presented conditions varied, the essence of their conversations was quite similar: become part of me or us.

Among the skilled individuals ascending from Gran Parzan, three names stood out: Ronan, Shullifen, and Navirose. The other two already had firm affiliations and positions, making it impossible to recruit them. On the other hand, Ronan, renowned as a hero who helped bring back spring to the empire, was still a student.

To be precise, he was a secret agent directly under the royal family, but there was no way such information could be known to those who came to Parzan for the purpose of recruiting. Moreover, Ronan’s skills, which were confirmed through the two tests, far exceeded the rumors that were thought to be exaggerated, so they all tried to lure Ronan with sweet offers. But the answer that came back was always the same.

“Talk to me at the summit. Then I’ll consider it seriously.”

In short, it was a clear message to demonstrate one’s abilities. No matter how favorable the conditions were, Ronan remained unyielding. People, understanding the impossibility of compromise, left with determination. Some grumbled about his stubbornness, but they were not the ones Ronan engaged in conversation with.

‘Too many offers don’t make them good. The ones who make it up to the summit are the real deal.’

Interestingly, Ronan kept an eye on those participants who didn’t approach him. There was a possibility that the truly skilled individuals remained silent. Suddenly, Ronan thought of Darman, the sword delivery boy.

‘Did he go to Aran Parzan?’

The boy and Zaifa, who were exceptionally fast, were still not in sight. If Zaifa participated in the Festival of Swords, there was still time to meet, and Ronan wondered if the delivery went smoothly. Regardless, he would find out in a few days.

Shrugging off people’s attempts to engage with him, Ronan, as always, immersed himself in training. The location was atop the giant, moonlit rocks. The training involved meditation and mana manipulation to unravel the curse entwined in his veins. Ronan, standing tall with a straight posture, closed his eyes.

‘Come to think of it, I still need to break that damn curse.’

Although he felt much better since returning from the Mental World, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that his strength was being limited. Amidst his meditation, Ronan was contemplating this when he heard Lynn’s voice from behind.

“You’re working hard.”

“Aren’t you sleeping?”

Ronan spoke with his eyes closed. A cool night breeze replaced Lynn’s response. Somehow, she managed to acquire a new sword and smoothly passed the second test, although her performance didn’t stand out enough to attract attention. Lynn spoke up.

“Why did you come here?”

“The big-breasted sister you like asked me to go to you.”

“That’s vulgar.”

“What do you have to say? And get your hand off my butt.”

Lynn clicked her tongue and slowly lowered her arms. She always lingered around whenever Ronan was training, like a child looking for someone to play with.

“So, you’re not interested in the Holy Sword?”

“The Holy Sword?”

“Yeah. Most people come here searching for the Holy Sword.”

From the sound of her footsteps, Ronan could tell that she was circling around the rock. As Ronan pondered the term “Holy Sword,” he blurted out.

“I don’t believe in fairy tales. It’s probably a story made up by those old elders bastards or money-crazed people like Marya. If people stop coming, they’ll all starve to death.”

“Who’s Marya?”

“Someone. She’s strong and has big breasts.”

“Oh, I’d like to meet her.”

Lynn said with an intrigued voice. The two engaged in a deep discussion about the body part called the breast for almost thirty minutes. Ronan burst out laughing when he heard her say that she tried to put her hand inside Navirose’s shirt but got scolded.

“Haha, you’re totally a pervert. If you were a guy, your head would have gone flying on the spot”

“Yeah. I was scared because she got angry.”

“Crazy. Hey, how about joining our academy after the Festival of Swords ends? Your age and skill are just right.”

“Hmm?”

“It will be interesting. I’ll introduce you to Marya and the other friends I mentioned earlier. They’ll like you if you just fix that damn habit.”

The night breeze, now stronger, flipped Ronan’s bangs. The air was cold, probably due to the high altitude. Suddenly, Ronan realized that this was his first business in Parzan since he arrived. Lynn, who had been silent, spoke up.

“…Are you teasing me right now?”

“Choosing my words carefully. Well… you could see it that way.”

“I don’t like it.”

It was a firm rejection, akin to a sword. Ronan’s brow furrowed for a moment. He was about to continue the conversation when…

“Alright, then there’s nothing I can do…”

“Say it again, not here, but at the summit.”

“Huh?”

“Do you know why? Maybe my mind will change then.”

It was a phrase he often used with others. Ronan opened his eyes at last. On the flat rock, there was no one but himself. Quickly scanning the surroundings, he noticed Lynn’s figure already running off in the distance. Her brisk footsteps somehow seemed more cheerful than usual.

“Weirdo.”

Ronan raised his head to gaze at the night sky. Several hours had passed, and soon, the third test would begin with the break of dawn. It was the final gateway to confirm the identity of the demon.