Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

185 – The Third Bout

“Let the third bout begin!!”

The first bout lasted

less than a minute,

and the second bout lasted

barely a minute as well.

Even considering these were duels between students,

the matches were decided

with unbelievable swiftness,

given they were between

mages and mages,

swordsman and… an Elf?

Now, at the moment

the third bout was about to begin,

Ardena Valentine began

to sense that something was amiss.

‘What in the world? How could they be so…?’

Of course, she believed without a doubt

that she herself was the strongest,

but the sight of those two being

defeated so helplessly

instilled a small

It was enough to sow unease.

These two, she figured, weren’t just any riffraff.

Just take Vahr Mond, who’d been sparring

with her just moments ago.

In terms of magical prowess alone,

he had no equal amongst their peers.

That was why she’d gladly

involved him in her plans.

Furthermore, that other one – the one who’d been so

utterly decimated and carried off at the start –

he too, was a fellow who had crossed

swords and tested his mettle against her.

That such fellows could be so

overwhelmingly defeated like this,

it was a sight she simply

couldn’t quite fathom.

She found it exceedingly difficult

to accept the situation as it stood.

And as time passed, it only grew harder to accept.

Specifically, the unease that

had taken root in her heart.

‘…No, this won’t do! This can’t be!’

Why had she agreed to such a

ludicrous sparring match today?

Wasn’t it to lay the groundwork

for washing away the family’s disgrace?

But to be stopped here, of all places?

To feel this anxiety in such a place?

It was always going to be a difficult thing.

The family’s disgrace was a long, enduring thing.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t abandon

the dream of restoring the family’s honor.

She had received too much

from the family to simply

live in silence and do nothing.

‘I am a noble, too. I have pride in my House!’

With such resolve, she had

even entered the Academy

and dedicated herself to striving, yet…

Could all that effort come to naught?

It simply could not be.

No, it *must* not be.

*Crrrick—*

The grinding of her teeth

felt achingly real,

and her lips, clamped tightly shut,

brought forth the coppery tang of blood.

The hand clutching her sword

began to tighten instinctively,

and she took a step forward.

I *must* win.

I *must* win.

She’d sooner die than

pass on this family stain

to her future children, to her kin.

What good was a life of envy

at the marquis’s estate?

What good was riding high

on the family name?

Her reputation was in tatters,

unable to cultivate kinship with any house.

Even if whispers of tea parties

or formal galas reached her ears,

she couldn’t readily express a will to attend.

How was this any different

from the fallen nobility?

‘I must win… I *must* win…’

But alas, her current

situation was decidedly grim.

Every other cadet

besides herself had already suffered

a defeat beyond overwhelming,

and her black-haired senior opponent

was surely just as strong

as those two who came before.

‘…Was there anyone famous

at the academy for having black hair?’

Perhaps it could offer some help

during the duel, or perhaps

She strained to recall any information, but

conversation with other nobles was nearly nonexistent,

so no helpful tidbits about famous students

had ever really come her way.

A person did flash into her mind,

but the likelihood of it actually being him was slim.

In the end, she gleaned no real details,

and turned her steps towards the training grounds,

mulling over how to direct the sparring match.

To completely overturn this situation,

simply winning wouldn’t suffice.

She needed to display a level of skill

so magnificent it clearly showcased

her future potential to all watching eyes.

‘Absolutely…no matter what…!’

And so, she slowly

matched her pace to the voice of Professor

Oliver, calling her name,

and stepped into the training grounds,

until the only sound left in her ears

was the scrape of her sword against the floor.

*

Screeeetch—

From afar, the scraping of the

Lady Valentine’s sword

against the floor could be heard even here.

The harsh sound, like nails on a chalkboard,

as the hard floor met the blade,

made me instantly wince.

Well, I couldn’t deny

part of it was just the unpleasant noise,

but it also damages the blade.

The sharpness of the blade, more than one might think,

is truly everything to the

swordsman who wields it.

It was one of the truly vital things,

So most swordsmen would never

Treat their blades in such a manner.

They would cherish it as if it were another part of themselves.

‘…But to disregard even such fundamentals…’

There were two possibilities.

Either the swordsman did not grasp the

Importance of a sword,

Or else they perceived the sword as merely

One more tool.

Neither direction was a desirable one,

But, truth be told, I was beginning

To get a sense of the reason.

There had been no need, perhaps.

No need for it.

Having consistently vanquished

Foes weaker than herself,

There was no need.

No need to even understand

The importance of the blade

Or even how to properly care for it;

She had simply continued fighting overwhelmingly.

Born into a family

Called “The Dissolute,” embracing that talent.

‘A dissolute one, indeed—a dissolute sword.’

Originally, the word dissolute

Was a vulgar term to describe

Those who were recklessly extravagant,

But, in my memory, it held a slightly different meaning.

Until coming here, as

A devout Christian, I had

First encountered the word “dissolute”

In the Bible.

‘…Looking at it that way, it’s not exactly

An unsuitable

Epithet, I suppose.’

The Bible described the dissolute as

Fruitless, wicked, and frivolous individuals.

Frankly speaking, I thought she…

Whether she deserved the label of useless and wicked was a little hazy,

but there was no denying a certain levity to her actions.

It hadn’t been long

since I started watching her,

yet I’d quickly noticed

that arrogance was the

default setting for her behavior.

‘…Honestly feels like a waste of time. Doubt her character will change.’

And such thoughts of mine

were immediately revoked upon meeting her gaze.

Screech—

Her eyes, still showing no intention

of drawing her sword,

fixed themselves squarely on me.

Badly put, they were uncouth,

but to be generous,

they were resolute.

At least, among the people I’d seen

in this place,

they were some of the most resolutely fixed,

eyes that only a person

with considerable resolve

could possess.

I don’t know why she suddenly changed like this,

but that didn’t mean

anything had shifted right now.

Her actions still reeked of arrogance.

The way she subtly disregarded people,

her gaze, for instance.

And the fact that she still

hadn’t adjusted her grip on the sword

even after the professor, whom I’d been

watching until just now, told her to draw it.

However, despite all that,

her gaze, unlike before,

suddenly pleased me greatly.

It felt as though I’d met

the kids I used to teach in the old days.

Back then, they *had* to be hardened.

If one didn’t possess eyes like *those*,

survival became a rather difficult affair.

And so, I always made it a point

to ensure they acquired them first –

eyes capable of anything,

if it meant surviving.

Though… my junior, she didn’t seem to have them

for quite *that* purpose,

but to put it another way, she possessed a resolve

comparable to a desperate yearning

to survive,

which, on the contrary,

only made me like her more.

‘Hmm… should I go easy on her, just a bit?’

Was it because of that?

Perhaps. It was then I resolved

to treat our sparring session

with a modicum of sincerity.

…Though, to be honest, I always

met anyone with eyes like *that*

with utter seriousness,

regardless of the skill disparity.

They felt…familiar.

Those guys from back then,

and my junior standing before me now.

“Sunbae-nim.”

“..Hm?”

At that moment, a title

I’d thought would never cross her lips

escaped her mouth.

And I felt a jolt – first, that the title

referred to *me*;

and second, sheer astonishment

that she would actually speak to me first –

and turned my head towards her,

noticing that a moment before,

Her black sword, once dragging along the floor,

was now held properly in her hand,

pointed right at me.

“Senior, if you plan to forfeit,

I recommend you do it now.”

“….”

“..Forgive me, but I can’t show

any mercy right now—”

“..Pfft.”

“…?”

“Pff..Heh heh heh heh..”

“..What is so amusing?”

Meeting her gaze, which held

a hint of irritation,

I couldn’t help but emit

a constant, snorting laugh.

Well, how long has it been?

That arrogance won’t be corrected so soon.

At least she’d have to get

her ass kicked until she’s near death to fix it.

“Still, it’s a relief she isn’t

cocky…anymore?”

“..Huh? What have you been muttering about?”

“Never mind. Just hurry up and start.”

“..Hah, I clearly gave you a chance—”

“I also value my time

quite preciously, you see.”

“..Tch!!”

And so, the third bout began.