I Returned with the Cheat Holy Sword

The fact that mages as a group were eccentric was something Carlyle had already learned all too well during his previous visit to the Magic Tower with Retty.
Unless they were an outlier like Vespa, it wasn’t unreasonable to view most mages with suspicion. In fact, the older and more seasoned a mage was, the more likely they were to be downright unhinged.
So, when someone introduced themselves as the Master of the Red Magic Tower, a certain line of logic followed.

Becoming a Tower Master is extremely difficult → Therefore, a Tower Master is typically the longest-serving and most experienced mage in their tower → Therefore, without a single exception, a Tower Master has a broken personality.
And the actions of this so-called Leona Libelle, the self-proclaimed Master of the Red Tower, only served to strongly support this hypothesis.
Even in the Arcane Kingdom—the cradle of all Magic Towers—being a Tower Master was considered equivalent to high nobility in the Empire.

So the chaos wrought by someone of that stature bypassing all administrative procedures and suddenly dropping into an imperial educational institution… was immense.
And yet, the very first words this Tower Master directed toward Carlyle, her declared “target,” were—
"You’re a fraud, you con artist bastard."

…An unprovoked personal attack with absolutely no buildup.
"…Excuse me?"
Carlyle couldn’t even react properly to the sudden accusation. As he blinked, Leona continued, clearly irritated.
"You pulled off something I failed to do. If that’s not a scam, then what is?"

"……Pardon?"
This person… really needed to learn how to explain things better.
As that thought crossed his mind, Leona pounded on her chest in frustration and snapped her fingers.

The massive dragon shrank down, transforming into human form—a red-haired woman clad in an extravagant crimson dress.
And as soon as Carlyle laid eyes on her, one person immediately came to mind.
…Professor Shiona?

He wasn’t imagining it—the resemblance was uncanny, like a pair of twins.
Though unlike Shiona, who always wore a perpetual squinty smile, this woman’s eyes sloped sharply with a nasty temper, broadcasting: I have anger issues.
And the very next thing she did in human form matched that impression perfectly.

Leona grabbed Carlyle by the collar and snarled, her other hand pointing at the Tear of the Stars hanging from °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° his neck.
"This! This thing—the Tear of the Stars! I researched its activation code for ages and never cracked it! So how did a mere human like you—"
Her words abruptly cut off.

Not because she suddenly found her patience.
But because two people who had been silently observing until now moved at once the moment Leona laid hands on Carlyle.
First was Blackie, who had been clinging to Carlyle until now—she sprang upright with a deep growl.

Then there was Gray. Scowling as she watched, she widened her eyes and stepped back the instant Leona touched Carlyle.
The next moment—
"You’ve got some goddamn nerve!"
"Gaga—!"

A burst of near-white, intangible mana collided with a pitch-black surge that seemed to suck all light from the surroundings.
Using Carlyle’s head as a springboard, Blackie slammed a flying kick squarely into Leona’s face. Simultaneously, Gray followed up with a spinning heel kick to Leona’s abdomen.
And then—

Leona’s body flew faster than a bullet.
Crashing through a wall.
And another wall.

And another.
And another.
And another—until her figure finally disappeared far into the background, outside the building.

Carlyle, who had been staring blankly, finally snapped out of it and turned to Gray, horrified.
"…What the hell was that?!"
"Why are you yelling at me? She got kicked by the other one too."

"You could’ve not kicked her!"
"I wanted to kick her. What are you gonna do about it? Besides, that Blackie thing kicked her too, didn’t it?"
"She’s half an animal, so maybe that’s excusable. But you, Hero, could’ve—"

His mouth snapped shut mid-sentence.
Right. On second thought, this one was a beast too.
The Hero isn’t even human…

"…Hey."
"……"
"You’re thinking something real shitty, aren’t you?"
"This—this isn’t the time for that!"

Carlyle broke into a sprint, leaping over the holes in the wall like a track athlete running an obstacle course.
It took him a few minutes of chasing through the destruction, but he finally found Leona, embedded into yet another wall.
…How far did she even fly from a single hit?

As that thought floated up, Leona’s grotesquely twisted limbs collapsed to the floor with a dull thud.
"Why the panic? She looks fine."
"…In what universe is this fine?"

She looked like a marionette from an avant-garde art exhibit.
And the response was just as outrageous.
"She’s still got a shape, doesn’t she?"

"……"
"You remember when you got hit by me the first time? You were half-pulp, weren’t you?"
Yeah… he remembered.

How he survived that was still a mystery to this day.
With that in mind, Carlyle cautiously approached to help Leona up.
That’s when he realized something strange.

"…She’s not breathing."
"……"
"……"

Carlyle glanced between Blackie, who tilted her head in confusion, and Gray, who just shrugged like so what?
Haah… these reckless lunatics.
They had just done this to someone who was, by imperial standards, equivalent to at least a Marquess.

And then—
"—MEDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC—!!"
Carlyle’s scream echoed throughout the Yoram campus.

A guest from the Arcane Kingdom.
The Red Tower Master.
Declared clinically dead in one blow.

***
…Or so it seemed. Thankfully, it wasn’t.
"HUEEEEARGH—!"

With a choked gasp, Leona sat bolt upright in the imperial infirmary.
Carlyle let out a low breath of admiration.
My God.

To think she could take a hit from the Hero and recover this quickly with just natural regeneration. Time for a serious reevaluation of Tower Masters.
Carlyle had been bedridden for days just from a glancing blow.
…No, it’s not just the Hero.

Blackie’s kick had packed some real force too. Maybe not quite Hero-level, but still devastating.
His earlier suspicion had proven accurate—she really could be counted as a combat asset.
If that was her power even without returning to her true form… just how much could she do in a crisis?

[…What kind of doting-dad nonsense are you rambling about? Focus on cleaning up this mess.]
Eep.
Snapped back to reality by the Holy Sword’s jab, Carlyle forced a smile and turned to the Red Tower Master.

"…Are you feeling any better?"
"You con artist bastard, what kind of trick did you pull on me?! I almost died, you know!"
Instead of getting angry, Carlyle felt a wave of relief wash over him.

She hadn’t lost her mind or her memory.
From what he remembered, most people hit directly by the Hero—himself included—ended up crippled for life, unless they were very lucky.
Thank goodness. Truly.

[……]
……
He had a feeling if the Holy Sword had a visible face right now, she’d be avoiding his gaze. Regardless.

Gray, meanwhile, was clearly displeased by Leona’s continued accusations.
"…Still going on about him being a con artist? You’re just being stubborn now. Sounds like you just can’t accept that a human surpassed you."
With a sneer, Gray provoked her.

Leona flared up immediately.
"Of course I can’t accept it! I’m a proper dragon who’s walked the path of magic her entire life—unlike my heretic sister! There’s no way a human could ever catch up to me!"
She puffed out her chest proudly, planting both hands on her hips.

Carlyle looked up at the ceiling, scratching his cheek.
It was kind of hard not to stare, honestly.
…They’re… big.

At least equal to Panhyma’s, maybe more…
"…Miss, no."
"What’s ‘no’?"

"I don’t know the exact circumstances either, but I do know it’s not worth drawing the Holy Sword over."
"……"
Gray let out a disgruntled sigh and slid the Holy Sword back into its sheath.

"Well, fine then."
"…Fine then what?"
"If she can’t believe a human could be this strong, then we’ll just make her believe it."

"Miss? What are you talking—"
"You two should have a match."
"……"

"Crack each other’s skulls. Loser kneels and apologizes. No whining."
"……"
…What kind of mafia-style dominance ritual was this?

This wasn’t how civilized people solved disputes.
"It’s pissing me off."
"……"

"Some rando shows up accusing people of being frauds out of nowhere, without knowing anything."
"……"
Hm.

Gray herself had done way worse with zero guilt.
That crossed Carlyle’s mind, but he didn’t dare say it out loud.
More importantly—

"…Miss, asking me to duel a Tower Master one-on-one is seriously unreasonable."
Who knew what unexpected dangers might come up soon? Using the Holy Sword fusion again would be a huge risk.
Last time he used it, it nearly destroyed his body for weeks.

And without that, his combat power would be halved at best.
Even so—
"Don’t worry. I’ve got a good eye for these things."

Gray snorted, then continued in a confident tone.
"You’re stronger than you think. Even without that mysterious power."
Carlyle was probably underestimating himself more than he realized.

"And honestly, I’m curious. I want to see how far you can go."
Because in her eyes—he was already far from ordinary.