Academy’s Genius Swordmaster

Chapter 9: The Girl Who Will Become a Countess (3)

Room 201 at the inn “Dancing Camel”.

On the floor made of wooden planks, all sorts of odds and ends were scattered around. Items like swords, potions, rings, and more, each of different types, but they all had a common trait – they were shimmering and shiny.

Marya looked at the loot spread out on the floor and opened her mouth.

“So, are these the things you guys didn’t sell and left behind? The ones you use?”

“Yeah.”

“These are quite high-quality items… Why did you leave three swords behind?”

“They break easily.”

Hans’ sword with a few teeth missing was evidence of that.

Even in their previous lives, Ronan used to change weapons once a month. Most weapons couldn’t withstand his quick swordplay.

“Well, still… Hey, man. You’re still bruised. Be a bit gentler.”

Marya grumbled, touching the lump on her head. Ronan opened his mouth to reveal a cut on the inside of his cheek. It was where he bit when he received an uppercut.

“This isn’t from a sparrow pecking at me, is it?”

“Tch, if I had a bit more strength, I could have sliced it right off.”

Despite Aselle intervening with magic, the two had exchanged a couple more punches.

Marya jabbed Ronan’s throat with her elbow, and Ronan slammed a knuckle buster into the same spot as before.

Marya was surprisingly strong for her size, but ultimately, she couldn’t match Ronan.

Marya, who had briefly lost consciousness and woke up, admitted defeat, and the match was over.

“By the way, you really use your weapons roughly. If you’re a swordsman, you should treat your sword with care.”

“A sword is just a tool, Who wields it is what matters.”

“Oh~ You’re confident in your skills? How about we spar later? Just so you know, among us, I’m the strongest.”

“Sure, whatever.”

After the commotion settled, Ronan and Marya became somewhat friendly. Their mutual bravado played a role in that. (Aselle couldn’t understand this process at all.)

The three of them left for the square, ate Marvas’ famous crab pasta, and returned to their lodgings.

Marya explained information about Philleon in a somewhat friendly manner, and now the boys were examining the loot they intentionally didn’t sell, one by one.

“Well, anyway. The things left here are all usable items. Especially this longsword, it’s truly made of black steel. The condition is a bit regrettable though.”

“Are you sure?”

“You doubt my judgment? Even my dad often asks me about metal-related stuff.”

Black steel was just as its name suggested – iron that had a blackish color. It was rare and had high strength, making it commonly used in crafting weapons for knights and nobles.

The black steel sword that Ronan favored was quite a formidable weapon. It had easily lasted for about six months of use.

“Well, that’s fortunate.”

“And this stone embedded in the staff… it’s a real mana stone. Hey, cutie over there!”

Aselle, who was tidying up their belongings, turned his head belatedly. Marya was holding a metal staff that looked to be about 1 meter long in her hand. Just like the black steel sword, it was something they hadn’t sold and left behind.

“Huh? Wait… me?”

“Do you think the words I just said were directed towards that savage guy? You’re a magician, right?”

Aselle nodded his head. Marya threw the staff towards him without a word. Startled, Aselle stopped the staff in mid-air using telekinesis.

“You almost got hurt!”

“And to top it off, telekinesis… if you play your cards right, you could get a scholarship and get into the academy. That could be quite helpful.”

Aselle stared at the staff floating in the air. He could feel mana gathering in the stone embedded at the end. He had left it behind since he discovered it, thinking it was unusual, but he hadn’t realized it was a genuine magic staff.

Magic staffs themselves were expensive, but with a mana stone embedded, they were incredibly valuable. Marya sat on the bed and looked at Ronan.

“The problem is the two of us. What kind of skills are you going to showcase?”

“Skills?”

“Yeah, Philleon’s practical skills are famous, right?”

The examinees had to demonstrate their most confident skills in front of the faculty, who acted as the judges.

The exam spanned 8 days, combining written and practical tests. The first 7 days were for the practical exams, and the final day consisted of a unified written exam.

Philleon’s entrance exam boasted an astronomical competition rate. Anyone who met the age requirement could apply regardless of their background or status, making it highly competitive.

There was a significant difference in point distribution between the practical and written exams. While the written exam was not to be ignored, the exam that determined pass or fail was undoubtedly the practical exam score.

“There might be a lot of mediocrity, but there are also many talented individuals. You need to prove your worth.”

“Damn, all I need to do as a swordsman is kill effectively. Usually, what do people showcase?”

“Well… let’s see? Noble families often demonstrate their family’s secrets… and cutting something as hard as a rock was in trend for a while. But the most common thing is showcasing your unique combat style utilizing mana.”

“Wait.”

Ronan’s face stiffened all of a sudden. His narrowed eyes were filled with suspicion and doubt. Marya smirked.

“Why the face?”

“Aren’t there still kids at that age who haven’t even grown proper hair? And you’re telling me he’s manipulating mana without being a magician? Do I look like an idiot?”

“Huh…? It’s just mana manipulation, not aura manipulation, right?”

“…What?”

Zap! The moment those words were spoken, lightning struck above Marya’s head. Would this be the feeling of being asked what’s the difference between a ladybug and a dragon? With a mix of disbelief and curiosity, Marya opened her mouth.

“You… you know how to sense mana?”

“And what’s that?”

“Ah.”

Another lightning bolt struck. Ronan’s response wasn’t ‘can’t’ or even ‘lack of skill’; it was an outright ‘don’t know’.

It wasn’t because of lack of effort or talent that he hadn’t cultivated his senses; he simply didn’t understand the concept of mana sensitivity.

Marya realized that her feeling of confusion was rapidly transforming into anger.

I see. I’ve been enlightening the clueless lump who can’t differentiate between mana and aura about the admission criteria of the continent’s top academy. And I’ve been doing it all day with great care.

Sitting still, she got up from the bed with an exasperated chuckle.

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s do it now, a sparring match. I’ll show you the difference between that curious aura and mana. I’ll even enlighten you about the stupid mana sensitivity.”

Marya picked up two short swords that lay on the floor. They were the remaining swords Ronan had left behind for her to use.

Though they weren’t made of precious metals like black steel, they were finely crafted steel swords.

“I almost fell for your confident act. That’s ours, by the way.”

“I brought my sword, so don’t worry. It’ll be over in an instant, just let me use it once.”

“What if I win?”

“Win… double the price. No, triple. Sound good?”

“Well, with those conditions…”

Bam!

Before Ronan could finish his response, Marya kicked the door and stormed out. Startled Aselle began to stammer, and Ronan advised him that women were sometimes like that, then left the room.

Mana is the fundamental source of the universe.

Concepts like aura, magic, cores, circles—commonly spoken of—are just names given based on the type of mana and the way it’s manipulated. Mana sensitivity was the ability to feel mana, the foundation of all those things.

“The time each person becomes able to sense mana varies. Many people never feel it until they die, but if you have even a modicum of talent, usually it starts developing within a year. Of course, what comes next is more important.”

The three of them left the inn and moved to a nearby empty lot. The noise from the main road could be heard beyond the fences surrounding the area. Marya walked about five paces away from Ronan and turned to face him.

“In a broad sense, aura is a form of mana, but no one looks at the two together. ‘Aura’ refers to the unique mana you generate yourself. It’s not the natural mana that exists everywhere.”

“So, in simple words, it’s like my own poop that I’ve given strength to and extracted.”

“Must you use such an analogy… Ugh, never mind…”

Marya shook her head. She wasn’t sure how low she should set her expectations for Ronan. He scratched the back of his head and asked a question.

“But I have another question. Is mastering aura so difficult?”

“Of course. Mastering aura means creating your very own mana, which is essentially impossible. Even for talented individuals, it takes a minimum of ten years of consistent training to achieve aura mastery.”

“…Is that so?”

Ronan thought about the opponents he had encountered so far. Come to think of it, those who claimed to have mastered aura tended to talk a lot before a fight. As someone who used aura himself, it felt like they were begging for mercy.

Those friends all had strange or seemingly useless abilities, and thinking that those were the results of tremendous effort, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry. But then again, if his neck was on the line, they would all die anyway.

“Well, shall we get started?”

Marya was slowly spinning the swords in her hands. The two smooth circles were a testament to her talent.

The skill required considerable strength and wrist flexibility. Ronan nodded.

“Sure.”

He pulled his sword from its sheath. It wasn’t the black steel sword he had, but the one with missing teeth that belonged to Hans. Marya raised an eyebrow as she asked.

“You’re using that sword? What if it breaks or shatters? You’ll get hurt.”

“Enough with that, let’s just get started.”

“Well, if you say so.”

The spinning of the short sword came to a halt. Her ability had reached the level of a sword user.

It went beyond simply circulating mana within her body and progressed to the point where she could infuse mana into her sword.

While she wasn’t particularly strong among mana users, there was a clear difference between her and regular individuals.

“Instead of facing humiliation in the exam room, it’s better to acknowledge your limits here.”

In fact, her anger had already dissipated. She realized her anger had arisen not from Ronan’s ignorance, but from the fact that she had offered solutions without any plan.

She was starting to see Ronan in a somewhat favorable light. Despite his crude speech and actions, he didn’t seem like a bad guy. If they attended the academy together, it might be enjoyable.

This sparring match was a form of mercy. Marya chuckled wryly and assumed her stance.

“Well then… ready…”

Aselle, acting as the judge, began the countdown. His thin fingers folded one by one. Three, two, one. As the last finger folded, Marya leaped forward as if propelled.

Clang!

Three swords crossed, and the sharp metallic sound echoed as they clashed. Ronan stood his ground and parried. The clash of the blades caused a screech, and Marya’s sword emitted a faint cry. Ronan whistled.

“I forfeit, okay?”

Marya was genuinely shocked, rendering her speechless. Having her initial attack blocked was a rarity in itself. Furthermore, both of her swords held mana, a noticeable enhancement from earlier.

“You… Who are you?”

“I’m Ronan. By the way, you’re really damn strong.”

Ronan was equally surprised. Marya’s strength had increased to an unprecedented level. Her aura-infused swords were reminiscent of the jaws of a massive predator.

Ronan felt his wrist ache. It seemed like it would become bothersome if he prolonged the fight.

He commented, “I need to end this quickly.”

The swords that had been clashing dropped to the ground. Ronan swiftly swung his sword as he momentarily bent his body. Marya sidestepped without parrying. The strike barely missed her sword.

It was unbelievable that someone who couldn’t handle mana could possess such impressive swordsmanship. Her calm heartbeat gradually quickened. A smile played on Marya’s lips.

“You were going to retrieve my sword.”

“I don’t think so.”

However, Ronan unexpectedly sheathed his sword. Marya frowned, as she had been about to initiate another attack. Ronan muttered something incomprehensible as he looked at her.

“You said to triple the price.”

Without a word, Ronan turned and started walking away. Marya angrily called him back. This wasn’t a simple bargain being broken; it was like she had been handed a bomb just as she was about to fight.

“What are you planning now?”

Instead of answering, Ronan raised his right hand.

“I have a talent. However, my balance leans a bit to the right.”

His tone implied he was past caring. Marya was on the verge of asking what nonsense he was spouting.

Clang.

Something fell at Marya’s feet. The two severed sword tips were rolling there.