The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

The first class of the new semester began at Royal Academy.

The first-year class is the foundational stage for the next six years of the curriculum, focusing primarily on theory above all else.

Basics of mana utilization, introduction to beginner magic, the first form of swordsmanship, etc.

In addition, there are endlessly dull and tedious classes on the continent’s history, mathematics, geography, literature, and more.

Ah, just thinking about it makes me sigh.

Truth be told, there’s nothing more important than theory when starting anything for the first time.

But does that mean I know all those basic theories?

Of course not.

It’s been over 30 years since I last engaged with theoretical studies.

If I remembered all those detailed and trivial things, wouldn’t I have been a scholar instead of an assassin?

Theory is important, but ultimately, how you apply that learned theory to your body is even more crucial.

For me, who has mastered all those applications, revisiting theory is utterly meaningless.

Right now, this single piece of paper is more important to me than a textbook full of tiny letters.

The orders are written densely in red ink on a rare black paper.

This is an order from the head, Silica, circulated among other members within the academy by Mist.

The fact that this has been circulated means that the organization’s next target for purification has been decided.

Normally, purification operations are graded, and members are selected in stages, but it looks like they’ve put me straight into a high-level operation from the start?

I’m so overwhelmed I don’t know what to do with myself.

The target is Zickerman Albas, a nobleman of the empire and one of the three great magnates of the continent.

He’s a tycoon who currently holds all the commercial rights within the Ushif Empire, with the rank of baron.

Originally, he was known to be a benevolent merchant who, not much interested in his title, returned most of his earnings from trade to the poor and needy.

But it turns out to be quite the opposite.

The order detailed all the unjust crimes Zickerman Albas had committed up to now.

Most notably, the operation of a slave market.

In the empire, where trading humans is absolutely forbidden by the doctrine of the god of light, Lumendel, the fact he operated a slave market…

He was no ordinary criminal.

It seems unlikely that other figures within the empire were unaware of this, suggesting that he must have been protected by some influential forces.

-Clomp, clomp

While I was examining the order, heavy footsteps sounded from below the stairs.

Of course, the place I am in now is not a classroom.

In some worlds, the best place to skip class is said to be the rooftop of a building,

Unfortunately, since the rooftop of the academy is occupied by a magic dueling arena, it’s impractical to skip class there.

So, where are we?

It’s the rooftop terrace at the very top of the Royal Wing.

It’s a neatly arranged garden with a gentle breeze, making it a perfect place to spend time alone.

-Thunk! Thunk!

What started as a steady tread suddenly changed to heavy thuds.

Even armored knights wouldn’t make such a noise.

Is this the sound of trolls or some giant beasts rather than a person?

I decided to hide the order and silently observe who was coming up the stairs.

-Bang!

The terrace door flew open with a kick, and I involuntarily flinched.

“…….”

He seemed just as surprised to see someone there, staring straight at me.

“You are……?”

A tall man with dusky skin and sculpted shoulders and muscles walked towards me.

I’m sure no one would mistake him for a student just by looking at him.

I naturally assumed he must be a guard knight.

“Cyan Vert?”

But he called my name?

Lately, it feels like more and more people know my name.

Unless they wish for death, a guard knight wouldn’t casually use the name of a noble’s offspring, which means he must either be an instructor at the academy or another student like me…

But that can’t be right?

If someone your size is a student, that would be… a significant issue.

“……!”

Suddenly, I noticed the emblem on his chest.

A gold emblem reminiscent of a blazing sun.

I recognize that emblem.

“Spania royal family……?”

In the eastern part of the continent, under the scorching sun, lies the oasis nation amidst an endless desert.

The country is ruled by the Shaharkan clan, blessed by the sand god ‘Sabulrom’, and who uniquely possess the ‘sand’ magic attribute in the continent.

There could only be one person at this Royal Academy who would bear that emblem.

Prince Set Shaharkan of Spania.

The first prince of the Kingdom of Spania and a prominent heir to the throne.

I remember he didn’t really attend classes in my past life, could it be that he too was skipping classes here?

“…….”

He kept looking at me, not seeming like he would just leave.

Judging by the atmosphere, it seemed like he wanted to talk…

“Do you know me?”

He immediately spoke as if he had been waiting to say something.

“Of course, I know. Cyan Vert, the youngest son of the Vert family, guardians of the continent. I’ve heard much about your exploits. It’s said that you’ve battled monsters on the front lines, haven’t you?”

Huh? Who? Me?

Well, it’s true, but…

The only official time I fought monsters was during my father’s trials, wasn’t it?

Seems like the rumors have really twisted.

I shook my head and said, “I’ve only watched the knights’ battles from a distance. I’ve never personally fought a monster.”

Denying the facts, he looked at me with skeptical eyes.

Gee, this is quite uncomfortable…

“So, why are you here then?”

“Who knows? Maybe for the same reason as you?”

Hearing “the same reason,” Set showed an intrigued smile.

“The same reason, huh… So, you share the same inclination as me?”

Without waiting, he rolled up his sleeves and began to warm up.

“I was honestly surprised. I thought in this Royal Academy, setting magic aside, there would be no one who could surpass my physical strength…”

Not that I thought he wouldn’t be, but now seeing him up close, he seems even more massive than from afar.

With his physique, he could probably join the Knights of Light right this instant without any issue.

“Physical grade S… You, Cyan Vert, received the highest grade, which even I didn’t obtain?”

Uh…

Well, yeah, I guess I did eat well for a year, so my grade turned out pretty good.

Usually, people focus on magic grades or attribute scores, but this guy was particularly interested in my physical grade.

It seemed he took great pride in his physique.

“In this Royal Academy, they usually only care about a student’s magic and attribute scores. Such foolishness. True human strength comes from the toughness developed through physical training.”

He suddenly dropped to the ground and started doing push-ups.

In less than 10 seconds, he easily surpassed 30 reps.

The more I watched, the less I felt we were of the same species.

“You must think the same, right? Rather than sitting through boring lectures on theory and magic, you’d prefer to spend that time improving your physique even slightly! Contrary to what I thought, you’re quite manly! Cyan Vert!”

Well, it’s true I’m here because I didn’t want to attend class, but I’m just skipping, you know?

I didn’t come here to engage in intense physical training like you.

Physical training? Of course, it’s important.

But if you heard how you died in your previous life, you might want to hide in shame, right?

If the Kingdom of Garam had the continent’s greatest swordsman, then the Kingdom of Spania had the Prince of Sand.

The Shaharkan clan, blessed by the god with the power of sand, could manipulate the desert’s nature at will.

Set Shaharkan was a man who perfectly inherited the power of his clan, and some even said he was a direct successor to the power of the sand god, Sabulrom.

Especially for Spania, a country unfamiliar to the empire due to its climate and geographical disadvantage of being a desert.

With the kingdom already tightly knit and housing a figure like the Prince of Sand, the empire faced considerable difficulties in conquering it.

But there’s this saying, isn’t there?

“Geniuses die young.”

The Prince of Sand, who seemed fearless even to the gods, died in a ridiculously absurd manner.

Death by illness from a cold.

(PR: hahaha)

Focusing too much on physical training, he neglected his internal health.

His death, like the kingdom’s main pillar crumbling, shocked the citizens, believing that the god had abandoned the Kingdom of Spania.

Eventually, the kingdom’s strong unity collapsed in an instant, and it was soon destroyed by the empire.

It wasn’t some epidemic; honestly, dying from a cold seemed like a ridiculous end even to me.

However, unaware of this fact, the Prince of Sand, Set Shaharkan, shouted at me with zeal.

“Fine! I, Set Shaharkan, in the name of the almighty first prince of Spania, formally challenge you, Cyan Vert, to a duel!”

-Whoosh!

As if a significant challenge had been issued, a fierce wind blew around us.

I replied with an indifferent face, not showing any reaction.

“When?”

“Right now!”

“That’s not possible.”

“Why not?!”

He shouted, unable to understand.

“Unauthorized duels are prohibited at the academy. If you want to duel with me, go to the main building’s administration office and apply formally.”

His clueless face revealed that he had no idea about this.

“So, if we apply or whatever it’s called, we can have a duel?”

“Suppose so.”

Provided the academy grants permission.

“Fine! Then where do I go to make this application?”

“I told you. You have to go to the administration office. It’s on the third floor of the main building.”

“Understood!”

He rushed off towards the administration office like a bear that had found its prey.

With each step he took, the thudding on the floor made me worry about the rooftop’s construction quality.

A duel with the Prince of Sand…

It seems like I’ve gotten involved in another troublesome matter.

* * *

In the southern city of Brenu, within the Ushif Empire.

A bizarre space filled with large tents and filthy cages intertwined.

After finishing the sorting process, a man hurried to the owner’s room.

“Mr. Zickerman! The goods are all ready!”

“…….”

Despite the report, Zickerman did not even glance his way.

He kept stroking something wrapped in a five-colored cloth inside a golden chest, as if it contained a unique gem of the world, endlessly.

“Coordinate the time and place, and send word to the customers. Especially pay attention to security this time! And don’t let the empire’s higher-ups know!”

“Yes! Understood!”

After completing his report, the man dashed out.

Left alone in the room, Zickerman cautiously took out the item from the chest.

“This is the finest item in my 40 years of trading! You deserve to be treated as such, don’t you?”

Asking a question to an inanimate object would not yield an answer.

As if he didn’t care, Zickerman laughed heartily while holding the item.

“Preparation is key for the greatest show. So, for now, just rest comfortably inside here.”

He then put the item back into the chest, carefully sealing it to prevent any harm.

-Wriggle

Suddenly, there was a slight movement inside the chest.

After the initial stir, there were two or three more movements, but Zickerman, caught up in his laughter, failed to notice.

-Ssss

Moreover, an invisible, colorless energy began to rise from within the chest like smoke.

(To be continued)