Chapter 15 - The Returner’s Promotion Battle (1)
Rewriter Note(s): [1] “Omae wa mou shindeiru.”
But nothing happened. The barbarian felt no resistance as the glaive completed
its sweeping downwards arc. The only thing he had struck was air.
“Gruuh...?” The barbarian stared quizzically at Pram. He hadn’t cut so much as
a single hair on his head. A glint of silver was now jutting out from the wooden
wall behind Pram. Something sharp with the silhouette of a crescent curve. The
barbarian snapped his neck down to look at the glaive in his hands. Except, it
wasn’t a glaive anymore—the blade was cut clean off. He was left with a
wooden rod.
Pram raised his rapier. “Shall we go again?”
The barbarian flung the wooden handle aside and closed the distance with a
swing of his fist. In an instant, his knuckles were close enough to obscure
Pram’s entire head from view. Pram wove to the side, letting the punch rocket
past him like a battering ram, and seamlessly vaulted into the air with a
backflip. With all the grace of a seasoned acrobat, he landed behind the
bewildered giant, and followed up with a swing of his rapier.[1]
The giant spun around and raised an arm to block the blow with his gauntlet,
but Pram’s rapier drew a perfect arc around his guard, and thrust into the pit of
his stomach. The now hapless giant tried to retreat, but Pram was faster. The
rapier plunged into the barbarian’s solar plexus. Tough as his body may have
been, it was a decisive blow to a vulnerable weak point. The giant’s body
quavered, his legs gave out from under him, and he collapsed into a crumpled
heap.
Desir nodded silently, as if confirming something he’d already known. “Looks
like it’s over.”
“Nonsense,” screeched Ujukun. “That door is made of Kichlean steel. There’s
only one person here who can open it, and I’m pretty sure he’s in no condition
to do so.” Kichlean steel was famed for its unyielding tensile strength. It was
also proportionately heavy. A door of this size would likely require the strained
20
efforts of half a dozen men to even budge. “Which means you’re stuck here
until my guards arrive,” cackled Ujukun.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” The Blanchume rapier streaked through the air,
making short work of the door’s hinges. The door flattened with a thunderous
crash. Apparently, even Kichlean steel was no match for Blanchume. As the
pair made their exit, Desir turned to the dazed Ujukun. “Looks like it’s
definitely over now, doesn’t it?”
They’d only been running for a few minutes but Desir was already out of
breath.
“Alright, I think we’ve lost them. I really need to exercise some more. I can’t
believe I’m this weak...” Desir muttered between stilted breaths. Though, his
lack of breath did little to damper is cheerful voice. “Good thing we got the
sword back, right?”
While nodding, Pram moved his hand to the rapier at his waist without even
realizing it. The pale rapier glittered like starlight, or even moonlight. He pulled
out the sword, and couldn’t feel the slightest weight. A truly incredible feeling.
“So you’ve decided to use the rapier?” Desir said, recalling how Pram had
fought with the rapier a few minutes before.
He’d held the rapier, and subdued the barbarian giant with overwhelming skill.
The fact that Pram had took up the rapier again was especially meaningful to
Desir.
“The situation was too urgent so I had no choice, but...” Pram was still
hesitating. He eventually let out a sigh. “Why would my father hide something
like this in that old, worn-down Kemubin?”
That was the cause of this entire ridiculous incident. If he’d made it obvious
from the start that it was in fact a Kemubin, Pram would never have had any
reason to resent his father.
“Your father made a wise choice, Pram.”
Pram raised his head at Desir’s words.
21
“A Blanchume sword is an incredible thing. Imagine if word got out that you
owned it. Over a hundred people just like Ujukun would have come to hound
you,” explained Desir.
“But there was still a chance I would never have found out,” said Pram.
“He left it behind because he thought you’d figure it out eventually,” said Desir
assuredly. Pram’s father always believed that Pram would realize, as long as he
kept carrying the rapier around.
“How can you be so sure?” asked Pram.
Desir grabbed the rapier, and pointed at the grip. Pram looked at it. On the
Kemubin that had the shape of an old, worn sword, there were written some
unreadable words. The reason they were unreadable was because they were
incomplete. When the Blanchume was revealed and the rapier showed its true
form, the words on the grip took shape. It looked like there was a hidden
mechanism on the grip as well as the blade.
Pram read the words slowly.
Do not lose your way, my little bird.
The Alpha Class’s private restaurant was on a high floor, the view overlooking
Hebrion Academy. A cold breeze blew in from the open window. A colorless
night view lay outside. The stars shone solemnly in the deep dark.
Romantica shuddered in the cold.
“Here’s your order, madam,” said the waiter.
The lights glittered yellow and the waiters moved between the tables like birds
flying in and out of their nests. The menu was seafood—a salt-grilled fish and a
crab gratin were laid in front of Romantica, and she thanked the waiter with a
smile.
“The Alpha Class meals are so much better, right?” said Doneta Hadun, seated
across from her.
22
She hadn’t known that he’d arrived. She guessed he’d come while she was
looking out the window. There was nothing strange about the fact that he was
there. In fact, what was strange was the fact that she was here. Without the man
sitting across from her, she could never have even set foot in this place.
“At long last. I’ve wanted to see you all this time,” said Doneta warmly.
“I see,” responded Romantica curtly. Romantica waited for Doneta’s food to
come out. A moment later, Doneta’s food was laid in front of him, and they
both raised their forks. The grilled fish tasted good, and the gratin was slightly
greasy, but its flavor was exquisite. The two of them didn’t say anything for a
while, savoring the food.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” asked Doneta.
There was no reason to hesitate. Romantica placed a wooden dagger on the
table. It was decorated with all sorts of ornaments. Romantica explained
herself, “I came to return this.”
Doneta pushed up his glasses and looked at the Kemubin as if it were his first
time seeing it. Romantica pushed the Kemubin toward him. Doneta showed no
reaction for a moment. No rage, no annoyance. He merely collected his breath,
and pondered why he had gotten rejected. Only a third-rate noble would show
his emotions on his face. “I thought there was no reason for you to refuse-”
“You thought.” Romantica looked at Doneta with her wind-touched green eyes.
Doneta’s heart started racing as he looked back at her gaze. “If you’re perhaps
uncomfortable with dating me, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“I did hesitate for that reason at the beginning. But it’s not because of that,”
said Romantica.
“You mean there’s another reason?” asked Doneta.
Romantica nodded. “I joined a nameless party in the Beta Class.”
“Beta Class...” Doneta looked at her with disbelief. He mumbled to himself, as
though he couldn’t even understand what he had just heard. “Beta Class, you
say...”
23
“Yes. A commoner’s party. The people you regard as trash,” said Romantica.
Doneta slammed his fork on the table. Everything had grown cold. The air
blowing in from the window, the soup on the table, the atmosphere between
them. “I don’t understand. Did you get blackmailed?”
“Maybe...” Romantica shook her head. “No, this was my decision.”
“Then you weren’t thinking rationally,” said Doneta. He opened the Kemubin.
A golden necklace slid out into Doneta’s palm like a snake.
“I don’t have any regrets,” said Romantica. She stared at Doneta with renewed
vigor.
“Don’t be hasty. There’s still time,” smiled Doneta.
Romantica took a deep breath. “I’m not taking back my decision.” Doneta’s lips
were upturned, but he wasn’t smiling. Romantica did the same. “I honestly
think I made the right choice. I didn’t want to join that party at first, but I
changed my mind as time went on. This party is fun. The leader trains us
diligently. My skills are improving quickly thanks to him.” With each word,
Romantica became more sure that she made the correct choice.
“If it’s improving your skills, our party can do that as well,” refuted Doneta.
“Of course, that’s only one of the reasons. Doneta, do you remember how you
told me the Beta Class were all worthless commoners, nothing but trash?”
asked Romantica.
Doneta paused. “I don’t see why you’re bringing that up.”
“The reason,” explained Romantica. She breathed in deeply filled up her lungs.
Glittering red snake eyes stared back at her. She breathed out, and said the
words that sealed her fate. “...is that I’m a commoner.”
Doneta slammed his fork down into the table. A sharp clang slammed into
Doneta’s eardrums. All of the concern and affection washed off of his face. A
slight look of scorn could be seen on his face. Romantica could no longer find
the slightest affection in his eyes.
24
“Hm.” He let out a slight cough. In a split second, he regained his poker face
after realizing his mistake, but it was too late. His feelings toward commoners
was close to physical repulsion, and he couldn’t contain it immediately. Just as
somebody wouldn’t need a reason to hate cockroaches, he didn’t need a reason
to hate commoners. A look of panic showed on his face—he looked desperate.
“That’s a lie.”
“Your reason for thinking that?” asked Romantica.
“If you were truly a commoner, you would have kept your mouth shut and
joined my party. That would be the only way a commoner like you could have
entered the Alpha Class,” explained Doneta.
“That’s right,” Romantica admitted it. “But when they found out I was a
commoner, at least they didn’t look at me like you.” Doneta was right—if she
joined the Blue Moon Party, she would have an easy time entering the Alpha
Class. In contrast, Desir instead invited her to his party even though he knew
she was a commoner. There was no discrimination. She didn’t have to lie, or
fear that she would be outed for being a commoner.
“I see.” Doneta opened his mouth. “Of course. You’re all the same trash, after
all.” His bitter tone was reflected in his demeanor.
“Trash... you’ve got that right,” said Romantica. Her voice carried the same
bitterness as Doneta’s, as she answered him, her voice filled with remorse.
“Nobles will always hate commoners. They hate and despise them as if they’re
biological enemies. I know very well why you nobles can’t stand commoners.
“It’s the same reason Hebrion Academy is an aristocracy instead of a
meritocracy—the same reason why Alpha and Beta aren’t divided based on
rank, but status. The reason is that you nobles are afraid of the birth of a new
Republic.”
“...Watch your mouth.” Doneta whispered back immediately. His eyes shifted
side to side and he looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention.
Romantica ignored him and laid the final nail in the coffin. “Times have
changed. The Shadow Worlds have toppled the balance. Anyone strong enough
can acquire magic crystals. You’re all living in a castle of sand and it’s
crumbling.”
25
Her voice now reinvigorated, Romantica said, “You live in constant fear, not
knowing when everything will collapse.”
Chapter 15 - The Returner’s Promotion Battle (1)
Rewriter Note(s): [1] “Omae wa mou shindeiru.”
But nothing happened. The barbarian felt no resistance as the glaive completed
its sweeping downwards arc. The only thing he had struck was air.
“Gruuh...?” The barbarian stared quizzically at Pram. He hadn’t cut so much as
a single hair on his head. A glint of silver was now jutting out from the wooden
wall behind Pram. Something sharp with the silhouette of a crescent curve. The
barbarian snapped his neck down to look at the glaive in his hands. Except, it
wasn’t a glaive anymore—the blade was cut clean off. He was left with a
wooden rod.
Pram raised his rapier. “Shall we go again?”
The barbarian flung the wooden handle aside and closed the distance with a
swing of his fist. In an instant, his knuckles were close enough to obscure
Pram’s entire head from view. Pram wove to the side, letting the punch rocket
past him like a battering ram, and seamlessly vaulted into the air with a
backflip. With all the grace of a seasoned acrobat, he landed behind the
bewildered giant, and followed up with a swing of his rapier.[1]
The giant spun around and raised an arm to block the blow with his gauntlet,
but Pram’s rapier drew a perfect arc around his guard, and thrust into the pit of
his stomach. The now hapless giant tried to retreat, but Pram was faster. The
rapier plunged into the barbarian’s solar plexus. Tough as his body may have
been, it was a decisive blow to a vulnerable weak point. The giant’s body
quavered, his legs gave out from under him, and he collapsed into a crumpled
heap.
Desir nodded silently, as if confirming something he’d already known. “Looks
like it’s over.”
“Nonsense,” screeched Ujukun. “That door is made of Kichlean steel. There’s
only one person here who can open it, and I’m pretty sure he’s in no condition
to do so.” Kichlean steel was famed for its unyielding tensile strength. It was
also proportionately heavy. A door of this size would likely require the strained
20
efforts of half a dozen men to even budge. “Which means you’re stuck here
until my guards arrive,” cackled Ujukun.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” The Blanchume rapier streaked through the air,
making short work of the door’s hinges. The door flattened with a thunderous
crash. Apparently, even Kichlean steel was no match for Blanchume. As the
pair made their exit, Desir turned to the dazed Ujukun. “Looks like it’s
definitely over now, doesn’t it?”
They’d only been running for a few minutes but Desir was already out of
breath.
“Alright, I think we’ve lost them. I really need to exercise some more. I can’t
believe I’m this weak...” Desir muttered between stilted breaths. Though, his
lack of breath did little to damper is cheerful voice. “Good thing we got the
sword back, right?”
While nodding, Pram moved his hand to the rapier at his waist without even
realizing it. The pale rapier glittered like starlight, or even moonlight. He pulled
out the sword, and couldn’t feel the slightest weight. A truly incredible feeling.
“So you’ve decided to use the rapier?” Desir said, recalling how Pram had
fought with the rapier a few minutes before.
He’d held the rapier, and subdued the barbarian giant with overwhelming skill.
The fact that Pram had took up the rapier again was especially meaningful to
Desir.
“The situation was too urgent so I had no choice, but...” Pram was still
hesitating. He eventually let out a sigh. “Why would my father hide something
like this in that old, worn-down Kemubin?”
That was the cause of this entire ridiculous incident. If he’d made it obvious
from the start that it was in fact a Kemubin, Pram would never have had any
reason to resent his father.
“Your father made a wise choice, Pram.”
Pram raised his head at Desir’s words.
21
“A Blanchume sword is an incredible thing. Imagine if word got out that you
owned it. Over a hundred people just like Ujukun would have come to hound
you,” explained Desir.
“But there was still a chance I would never have found out,” said Pram.
“He left it behind because he thought you’d figure it out eventually,” said Desir
assuredly. Pram’s father always believed that Pram would realize, as long as he
kept carrying the rapier around.
“How can you be so sure?” asked Pram.
Desir grabbed the rapier, and pointed at the grip. Pram looked at it. On the
Kemubin that had the shape of an old, worn sword, there were written some
unreadable words. The reason they were unreadable was because they were
incomplete. When the Blanchume was revealed and the rapier showed its true
form, the words on the grip took shape. It looked like there was a hidden
mechanism on the grip as well as the blade.
Pram read the words slowly.
Do not lose your way, my little bird.
The Alpha Class’s private restaurant was on a high floor, the view overlooking
Hebrion Academy. A cold breeze blew in from the open window. A colorless
night view lay outside. The stars shone solemnly in the deep dark.
Romantica shuddered in the cold.
“Here’s your order, madam,” said the waiter.
The lights glittered yellow and the waiters moved between the tables like birds
flying in and out of their nests. The menu was seafood—a salt-grilled fish and a
crab gratin were laid in front of Romantica, and she thanked the waiter with a
smile.
“The Alpha Class meals are so much better, right?” said Doneta Hadun, seated
across from her.
22
She hadn’t known that he’d arrived. She guessed he’d come while she was
looking out the window. There was nothing strange about the fact that he was
there. In fact, what was strange was the fact that she was here. Without the man
sitting across from her, she could never have even set foot in this place.
“At long last. I’ve wanted to see you all this time,” said Doneta warmly.
“I see,” responded Romantica curtly. Romantica waited for Doneta’s food to
come out. A moment later, Doneta’s food was laid in front of him, and they
both raised their forks. The grilled fish tasted good, and the gratin was slightly
greasy, but its flavor was exquisite. The two of them didn’t say anything for a
while, savoring the food.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” asked Doneta.
There was no reason to hesitate. Romantica placed a wooden dagger on the
table. It was decorated with all sorts of ornaments. Romantica explained
herself, “I came to return this.”
Doneta pushed up his glasses and looked at the Kemubin as if it were his first
time seeing it. Romantica pushed the Kemubin toward him. Doneta showed no
reaction for a moment. No rage, no annoyance. He merely collected his breath,
and pondered why he had gotten rejected. Only a third-rate noble would show
his emotions on his face. “I thought there was no reason for you to refuse-”
“You thought.” Romantica looked at Doneta with her wind-touched green eyes.
Doneta’s heart started racing as he looked back at her gaze. “If you’re perhaps
uncomfortable with dating me, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“I did hesitate for that reason at the beginning. But it’s not because of that,”
said Romantica.
“You mean there’s another reason?” asked Doneta.
Romantica nodded. “I joined a nameless party in the Beta Class.”
“Beta Class...” Doneta looked at her with disbelief. He mumbled to himself, as
though he couldn’t even understand what he had just heard. “Beta Class, you
say...”
23
“Yes. A commoner’s party. The people you regard as trash,” said Romantica.
Doneta slammed his fork on the table. Everything had grown cold. The air
blowing in from the window, the soup on the table, the atmosphere between
them. “I don’t understand. Did you get blackmailed?”
“Maybe...” Romantica shook her head. “No, this was my decision.”
“Then you weren’t thinking rationally,” said Doneta. He opened the Kemubin.
A golden necklace slid out into Doneta’s palm like a snake.
“I don’t have any regrets,” said Romantica. She stared at Doneta with renewed
vigor.
“Don’t be hasty. There’s still time,” smiled Doneta.
Romantica took a deep breath. “I’m not taking back my decision.” Doneta’s lips
were upturned, but he wasn’t smiling. Romantica did the same. “I honestly
think I made the right choice. I didn’t want to join that party at first, but I
changed my mind as time went on. This party is fun. The leader trains us
diligently. My skills are improving quickly thanks to him.” With each word,
Romantica became more sure that she made the correct choice.
“If it’s improving your skills, our party can do that as well,” refuted Doneta.
“Of course, that’s only one of the reasons. Doneta, do you remember how you
told me the Beta Class were all worthless commoners, nothing but trash?”
asked Romantica.
Doneta paused. “I don’t see why you’re bringing that up.”
“The reason,” explained Romantica. She breathed in deeply filled up her lungs.
Glittering red snake eyes stared back at her. She breathed out, and said the
words that sealed her fate. “...is that I’m a commoner.”
Doneta slammed his fork down into the table. A sharp clang slammed into
Doneta’s eardrums. All of the concern and affection washed off of his face. A
slight look of scorn could be seen on his face. Romantica could no longer find
the slightest affection in his eyes.
24
“Hm.” He let out a slight cough. In a split second, he regained his poker face
after realizing his mistake, but it was too late. His feelings toward commoners
was close to physical repulsion, and he couldn’t contain it immediately. Just as
somebody wouldn’t need a reason to hate cockroaches, he didn’t need a reason
to hate commoners. A look of panic showed on his face—he looked desperate.
“That’s a lie.”
“Your reason for thinking that?” asked Romantica.
“If you were truly a commoner, you would have kept your mouth shut and
joined my party. That would be the only way a commoner like you could have
entered the Alpha Class,” explained Doneta.
“That’s right,” Romantica admitted it. “But when they found out I was a
commoner, at least they didn’t look at me like you.” Doneta was right—if she
joined the Blue Moon Party, she would have an easy time entering the Alpha
Class. In contrast, Desir instead invited her to his party even though he knew
she was a commoner. There was no discrimination. She didn’t have to lie, or
fear that she would be outed for being a commoner.
“I see.” Doneta opened his mouth. “Of course. You’re all the same trash, after
all.” His bitter tone was reflected in his demeanor.
“Trash... you’ve got that right,” said Romantica. Her voice carried the same
bitterness as Doneta’s, as she answered him, her voice filled with remorse.
“Nobles will always hate commoners. They hate and despise them as if they’re
biological enemies. I know very well why you nobles can’t stand commoners.
“It’s the same reason Hebrion Academy is an aristocracy instead of a
meritocracy—the same reason why Alpha and Beta aren’t divided based on
rank, but status. The reason is that you nobles are afraid of the birth of a new
Republic.”
“...Watch your mouth.” Doneta whispered back immediately. His eyes shifted
side to side and he looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention.
Romantica ignored him and laid the final nail in the coffin. “Times have
changed. The Shadow Worlds have toppled the balance. Anyone strong enough
can acquire magic crystals. You’re all living in a castle of sand and it’s
crumbling.”
25
Her voice now reinvigorated, Romantica said, “You live in constant fear, not
knowing when everything will collapse.”
