Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

10 – Successful? *Revised*

Beeeep—

The signal, announcing the battle’s start,

and Leon’s form moved with speed, closing the gap.

And with him, the slash that traced a diagonal

from the upper right to the lower left.

I rolled, barely escaping,

then conjured a hand-and-a-half sword and charged.

I aimed to cleave him in two with a horizontal strike,

but Leon, already in a defensive stance, blocked it.

At that instant, a searing pain blossomed in my stomach.

Simultaneously with blocking, Leon’s foot,

aimed at my gut, landed squarely.

I tumbled twice, righting myself with effort,

only to face another onrushing attack.

Somehow, I manifested a shield,

barely managing to deflect the blow, but hastily

summoned as it was, it shattered quickly.

“…Is that all you’ve got?”

“….”

“…Indeed, you couldn’t possibly have

any more tricks up your sleeve.

So, a commoner now, locked in your room for fifty days, accomplishing nothing?”

Spouting nonsense, he charged again, and I retreated,

conjuring throwing daggers and a hatchet and launching them.

But alas, Leon was a skilled combatant, maintaining a

mid-tier ranking even within Class A.

And that was a testament to the prowess of his sword.

Clang, clang, clang—

Like deflecting arrows, he

repelled all my projectiles,

closing the distance between us, inexorably.

His presence made me viscerally aware of a seasoned veteran.

“…Pathetic. Are you truly a student of Class A?”

In my original body, I could have engaged

him in hand-to-hand combat and certainly won.

But regrettably, this body had only endured fifty days of training.

He, on the other hand, had trained his entire life as an aspiring knight.

The intensity of our respective training was worlds apart.

‘For now… I retreat.’

And so, the chase continued.

I kept to throwing things at Leon, running, always running,

but in the end, physical endurance tells its tale.

As I mentioned, he’d been training relentlessly to become a knight,

while I had, at best, barely fifty days of such training under my belt.

“What’s this?! Already tired, are we?!”

One might think it was merely stamina that set us apart,

but I was keenly aware of just how significant that difference was.

For in battle, endurance reigns supreme.

And further, I was fast approaching a state of depleted mana,

exhausted from constantly conjuring projectiles.

He, on the other hand, relied purely on physical prowess,

had no need to draw upon mana reserves.

‘This won’t do…’

Not that I expected him to give up easily, mind you,

but I hadn’t anticipated such tenacious pursuit.

Realizing I couldn’t continue like this, I ceased my evasive maneuvers.

Prolonging the chase would only serve to waste precious energy.

“Ha ha!! Finally run yourself ragged, have you?!”

Leon charged, brimming with arrogance,

and I sensed that now, he deemed this his golden opportunity.

A faint glimmer of mana already pulsed within his blade.

In his eyes, a burning desire to punish me, to make me pay.

“… Funny, I feel precisely the same way.”

“What are you mumbling abou-… GACK!”

*THWACK*

I drove my fist straight into his Adam’s apple

as he lunged, narrowly deflecting the blade that would have found its mark.

A counter-attack, perfectly timed, leveraging the momentum

of his own charge against him.

And the target – the Adam’s apple – promised a stifling agony.

“GACK… hack, hack…”

He collapsed, unable to breathe,

a crumpled heap upon the ground.

A smugness settled in, watching him retch dryly.

“You… insolent brat…!!”

“Says the one calling someone else a brat.”

Of course, close quarters were relatively

to my disadvantage, that was true enough,

but I wasn’t so green that I couldn’t handle some kid blinded by rage.

After all, if I couldn’t deal with a child like this,

I wouldn’t have survived this long.

“I’ve seen your type come and go.”

*

He’d won.

A definite victory.

That’s what Leon believed.

Like everyone else, never even considering

the possibility of failure,

he hadn’t given his own defeat a second thought.

‘No way I could lose to a guy like that… hee hee.’

His opponent was that Jennison.

The good-for-nothing, a stain on the ducal house,

a cretin with neither talent nor skill,

dragging the honor of Class A through the mud simply by bearing his family’s name.

He, who had trained since he was a child, couldn’t possibly lose to such a wretch.

His swordsmanship and magical prowess were,

always, invariably, beneath his own.

Thwack—

“Guh-urk…”

And that thought began to

slowly disintegrate the moment he stepped onto the training ground.

Thwack—

Human thought, after all, is utterly powerless in the face of pain.

Crunch—

As his thoughts clouded over, reason, too,

faded away, and his body, lost, thrashed about wildly.

Creak—

A skilled assassin never misses

such a tiny opening.

“Keh-heok…!!”

As if every bone in his body were being crushed to dust.

Leon Berniel soared through the air, propelled by agony.

Aside from his daily morning training,

cosseted within the walls of his Count’s estate,

he couldn’t have imagined such suffering.

And so, a dizzying terror began to settle upon his mind.

Fear of the pain, and fear of his body’s

impending ruin.

“Get up.”

At the sound of the voice calling to him,

Leon Berniel lifted his head, slow and deliberate.

Before him stood a pair of black eyes, looking down.

Black eyes that conjured images of an endless abyss,

eyes that chilled him to the bone.

“You… b*stard… you were hiding your strength…!!”

“…So you still have the presence of mind to wonder about that?”

I must be getting rusty, it seems.

Incomprehensible words followed by

another onslaught of fists,

agony beyond measure, and yet

Leon gritted his teeth, forcing himself

to swing his sword.

He wouldn’t allow himself to be defeated

by someone of this caliber.

As expected, trash was trash,

Leon wore a faint smile as he saw the

cuts and wounds on Jennison’s body.

“H…how…!!”

He screamed again at the sight that

suddenly appeared before him.

“What’s wrong, you third-rate swordsman?”

Undeniably, Leon’s sword

was stained with blood,

but not a single drop trickled

from Jennison’s own flesh.

*

“H…how…”

“What are you talking about?”

“What trickery is this?!”

The man pointed a shaking hand

at my clothing, ripped by his strike,

and screamed once more.

Indeed, he has every right to be astonished.

Surely, he must have felt

the sensation of flesh being sliced.

In this world, there exists no specific method for healing wounds.

Without modern conveniences or technological prowess,

healing injuries in this world

only serves to worsen them.

There are but two ways to treat a patient in this world

without worsening their condition,

and of those, only one can be performed

without any prior preparation.

“Y…you don’t mean to tell me you can wield Holy Power?!”

Sacred magic.

Utilizing the power of the divine,

something I’m starting to grow weary of.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re babbling about.”

There’s simply no way I’m the kind of

fellow who knows how to use such things.

After all, there can’t be many who loathe the gods as much as I do.

“Don’t spout nonsense!! Do you think I’m blind, you—”

“I made it.”

“Wh…what?”

“I said, I made it.”

Even after I answer, the fellow widens

his eyes, a corner of his mouth lifting in a sneer.

Well, he probably thinks it’s utter nonsense.

An expected reaction.

While Creation Magic might sound like it can conjure anything,

the reality is rather different.

One must possess a detailed understanding of the principles and

composition of the object one wishes to create.

Furthermore, it devours mana, so it is

rightfully regarded as one of the magic types

least suited for combat.

‘But that depends on the wielder, doesn’t it?’

I am a person who has lived far longer

than most people realize.

In the 21st century, I lived as a university student who chose science,

and after that, I was subjected to human

I had even been a scientist once, you know.

So naturally, I became well-versed in the human body.

Of course, quite a long time had

passed, so some knowledge

had surely faded,

but in the meantime, I had plenty of time.

About fifty days, as a matter of fact.

Enough time to study

the human body again, and

if there was something I truly didn’t know,

I could simply dissect my own body, like now.

It would heal quickly, after all,

and if I thought I’d fixed it wrong, I could just brew a potion and spray it on.

From the beginning, having endured

torture training,

self-harm was a very easy thing for me.

“You…you son of a b*tch…!! Just a half-wit who was banished from the family…!!”

“…I don’t want to hear any more.”

Not wanting to listen any longer to

the nonsense of a guy who couldn’t

even stand on his own two feet, I immediately flicked a finger once,

and to that simple signal, one of the huge magic circles I had embroidered on the floor reacted.

The daggers I had thrown

countless times and the magic circle

I had drawn with the tip of my foot as I backed away.

“Wh…what is…!!”

Leaving behind the man’s exclamation, filled with confusion,

I immediately grabbed the bag

I had brought before coming up to the training grounds and ripped it open.

“That is…?”

Soon, something from inside

fell with a thudding sound.

Five scrolls I had personally drawn circuits on and imbued onto paper.

“What kind of dogshit are you trying to pull…!!”

*Riiiip*

The first thing I tore was

the [Weight] scroll, which increases weight,

and Leon’s body faltered for a moment before kneeling.

“Wh…what is this… *Keuk*.”

Still, he was somehow holding on…

Watching him, this time I tore the

[Anti-Gravity] scroll in a swift motion,

and simultaneously, all the throwing axes and

daggers I had launched at Leon during the chase

began to rise, floating into the air.

Leon’s eyes widened at the unbelievable sight,

he struggled to lift himself up,

but upon seeing his knees would not straighten, he shot them

a resentful glare. I tore another scroll, [Bestow: Dispel].

A Magitech tool, a kind of instrument

imbuing magic within.

Now, every dagger and axe in the air became Magitech, ignoring all magic,

and I smiled at the sight,

tearing the [Enhance] scroll once more.

Kaga-ga-gak─

The sound of blades sharpening echoed,

the blades that had been dull, rolling and clashing on the dirt ground were now returning sharper than ever.

“Wh..What are you trying to do?!”

“Quiet… Can’t you just die quietly?”

Slowly savoring the fear

that dawned in his eyes at the sight of the self-sharpening blades,

I tore the final scroll, the [Mana] scroll.

The mana that had been depleted from

creating various projectiles

was now being restored before I even realized it.

Yes, enough to

infuse this massive magic circle

beneath my feet with mana.

Then, I placed my hand on the ground as it was, and activated the magic circle.

Everyone there, I suppose,

would have been able to comprehend the magic circle’s effect.

Because, the moment I injected mana, the dozens of floating daggers and axes flew towards his head.

The effect of the magic circle I activated was [Tracking]

The target… was his head.

“Wai..Wait a minute..! Let’s talk..!”

“…Die, Leon Bernil.”

A rain of blades cascaded from the academy.

*

A tempest of blades swept the battlefield,

Resembling nothing so much as a battlefield,

the overwhelming spectacle of hostile intent left everyone

present frozen in fear for a heartbeat.

Only one soul moved in that moment.

Professor Oliver, fearing Leon Bernil’s imminent demise.

‘If I don’t stop this, Student Leon will surely die!’

He surged forward, entering the training grounds,

but already, hand axes and daggers were

hurtling towards him with blinding speed.

Instinct told him it was futile; a sense of powerlessness took root, and he collapsed onto his knees.

*Ting! Ting! Ting!*

‘Ting?’

Not until the sounds echoed through the smoke

did realization begin to dawn.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the training ground,

and at once, the thick

smoke dissipated.

Revealed within the training grounds were:

Jennison, his face twisted in a mask of seething

frustration, radiating murderous intent;

Leon, sprawled backwards, soaked and trembling, defeated by the augmented gravity;

and a woman, standing radiant, her platinum blonde hair dancing in the wind.

The academy’s chairperson, and one of the empire’s foremost archmages.

Ruine Decarte.