Chapter 2 – Experts Don’t Blame Their Tools (2)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Hoakin Academy. The academy’s surface-level motto was the cultivation of heroes.

Why were heroes necessary? Simple.

Because the Demon King existed.

The academy’s founder and the Hero of Origin.

There was a noble-sounding pretext about producing heroes who would carry on the would of “Balor Hoakin,” but in reality, it was little more than a social club for the precious offspring of a rotten, privileged class.

Even so, its fame wasn’t entirely hollow, because as an educational institution it truly was the best in the world, and countless applicants to the special advancement class longed to cross its threshold. The competition was just as fierce.

Kang Geom-ma’s achievement in breaking through on his own and getting admitted to the academy absolutely deserved praise. But why did it have to be me, someone who just wanted to live an ordinary life?

So I skipped the entrance ceremony. It would’ve just been time wasted on some boring lecture anyway, so I decided it would be more efficient to look around the school I’d be attending for the next three years. There was still an hour left before the class assignment test. Plenty of time.

“…It is impressive, though.”

I had expected it, since this was basically a school for the upper class, but the scale was absurd.

First of all, the grounds looked less like a school and more like a slightly small city.

The buildings filling that space were a pleasure to look at, too. The Victorian-style annexes stood in elegant rows, and the landscaping had a crispness to it that made it obvious the gardeners worked hard here.

Most of all, the top of the main building, visible only if I craned my neck far back, pierced the clouds like the Tower of Babel.

I sat down on a bench in the shade beneath a tree.

Looking at the clouds drifting like tufts of cotton, I found myself missing the nicotine that would’ve eased the stiffness in the back of my neck.

Setting aside the fact that I was a student now, this world didn’t even have the concept of cigarettes. Then again, if the main stage of the game was an academy and teenagers were all puffing away with cigarettes hanging from their mouths, it probably would’ve made people frown.

Propping my head with my arm, I leaned back against the bench almost as if I were lying down. The scent of spring scattered on the breeze. The thought that I was sketching out a scene from some youth drama made the tip of my nose itch.

The spring wind made my eyelids heavy, and I closed my eyes for a moment.

Come to think of it, I didn’t really have any memories worth mentioning from my teenage years in my previous life. Our family had done all right, but my father had ruined us by guaranteeing someone else’s debt.

When I found myself facing the kind of development I’d only ever seen on TV or in comics, I had no choice but to confront that coldly sharpened reality at the age of seventeen.

That was how I dropped out of high school and started working at a Japanese restaurant. It wasn’t because I had any grand dream or vision. It was just close to home.

At an age when I should’ve been holding a pencil, I held a knife instead. Back then, I think I might have envied other kids my age, but the smell of fish suited me better than the smell of ink.

In the end, I even got called the best knifeman in the country. Heh.

I slowly opened one eye and checked the time.

There were thirty minutes left until the class assignment test. It felt like I had only closed my eyes for a second, but time had already slipped by.

Part of me wanted to use the sunlight as a lullaby and doze off for a bit, but the faces of the parents who had supported this enormous tuition bill without a word flashed through my mind, and I found myself getting to my feet.

Leaving that lingering reluctance behind, I adjusted the bundle-like bag I carried.

The suitcase with my clothes and daily necessities had already been dropped off at the dorm when I arrived.

What was in this bag were a few five-kilogram dumbbells and the bundle of sashimi knives I’d bought in a rush.

An exam was still an exam. I needed to get my hands used to them first.

Now that I thought about it, after coming here I hadn’t so much as gotten my hands wet, much less held a knife.

I’d spent nearly twenty years living by the blade. Could my skills really have rusted just because I’d taken about a year off?

Another one of my first master’s favorite sayings crossed my mind.

You must never let go of a knife, not even for a single day. Sleep with it in your hand. Understood?

Of course, I had never actually slept holding one. What if I stabbed myself in my sleep?

Well, he probably didn’t mean it literally.

I untied the bundle inside and drew out one sashimi knife.

The moment my hand wrapped around the hilt again, the restless feeling inside me seemed to unwind on its own.

I tilted it this way and that, inspecting it. I ran my index and middle fingers along the handle, drew the blade half out of the sheath and set it by my ear, then tapped it with a fingernail to hear the ring of steel.

The clear ting sound drove the sleepiness right out of me. For the price, the finishing wasn’t bad at all, and I quite liked the wooden sheath too.

Not bad at all, actually.

For something I had bought on discount, I was satisfied. The edge would probably turn quickly if it hit something hard like bone, but for the price, this was excellent.

A pleased smile spread across my face. Riding the mood, I drew the sheath farther and brought out the bluish edge, thinking I might try cutting even a leaf.

Then came a flare of light and a stream of messages.

[Your weapon meets the required conditions.]

[The Blessing of the Sword God activates.]

“What the hell? No warning at all?”

[The rank of the physical body is too low.]

[The rank of the weapon is too low.]

[Synchronization will begin by using suppressive force to adjust to the user.]

Bzzzzzt-

[Synchronization complete.]

Right after that final message.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Might the blessing of God be with you.

++++++++++++++++++++++

A sweet female voice whispered at my ear.

Then, in the next instant, my body convulsed with a searing sensation as if someone were branding my brain with red-hot iron.

“Gaaaaaaaah!”

A chain of perception repeated, reflected, and inverted without end. It felt like an amount of information far beyond what a human being should be able to endure was being crumpled up and forced directly into my skull.

The smell of burning protein curled through my nose, and the heat gouging through my brain spread beneath my forehead. The pain was so alien that it cut off even a single scream.

The moment I thought I might actually die like this, I forced open my eyelids, which were growing heavier and heavier as though weights were hanging from them.

!?

My vision turned faintly blue, as though dye had seeped into my eyes. The landscape was shattered into fragments like a broken mirror, and red cracks ran through the world like chains. Pieces of space floated in midair.

The overwhelming weakness, unlike anything I had ever felt before, made me drop the knife from my hand. The moment I did, the fractured world reassembled itself as if nothing had happened and returned to normal in an instant.

After a few seconds, my ragged breathing stopped, and my drying blood flow settled back into its normal rhythm.

I crouched down, clutching my splitting head. It still felt as if someone were tearing it apart. My arms and legs trembled, and the joints jerked in bizarre directions.

“…Fuck, what was that?”

It went beyond pain. It was agony I never wanted to experience again. The backlash of the Blessing of Painlessness had been like a mild muscle ache at worst.

The Blessing of the Sword God did seem to have some kind of special property.

But if it was going to be like this every single time it activated, there was no way I could use it.

If this was what happened just from holding the knife for a moment, then if it lasted any longer, I doubted it would end with something as mild as fainting.

I’d thought it was some kind of bonus because it had such a grand name, but at this point it was worse than a dud, wasn’t it?

I couldn’t even begin to grasp what sort of power it was. Just what kind of Blessing of the Sword God was it to show a world split into tiny pieces across my vision?

By the time I was trying to steady my trembling body with a deathly pale face.

Hoo, hoo, ah. Ah. Mic test.

A crackling voice struck my eardrums.

Exactly ten minutes from now, the class assignment test would begin at the training grounds in front of the main building. All cadets were requested to assemble with their weapons.

When I gathered my senses, twenty minutes had already passed. I swept the things strewn across the ground from all my flailing back into my bag.

There was only one thing I hesitated over for a long time: whether or not I should pick up the knife whose wrapping had already been torn open.

Still, maybe, just maybe, it had only happened the first time.

I hesitated, then carefully reached out my hand.

“Aaaaaaaaagh, motherfuuuuucker!”

It hadn’t been wishful thinking.

* * *

The circular training grounds that enclosed the open arena looked much like the Roman Colosseum. The stood were packed to the brim with spectators who had come to watch the class assignment test, the official first event of the world’s greatest institution for raising heroes.

Among them, those filling the upper tier sat in the VIP seats reserved for noble bloodlines.

A plump middle-aged man approached a white-haired man with obvious hesitation and spoke.

“H-ha. Sword Emperor, thank you for gracing us with such a difficult visit.”

No reply came back.

Sword Emperor Siegfried von Nibelung.

A descendant of Aron Nibelung, who had been the direct disciple of Balor Hoakin, the Hero of Origin, and the current head of House Nibelung. A man called heaven’s chosen favorite, and at present, the strongest human alive.

“…”

When those brilliantly shining golden eyes swept over the fat man in a sidelong glance, beads of sweat broke out across the man’s forehead.

“H-ha. Then please enjoy your time here in comfort.”

The man hurried back to his own seat, his belly jiggling as he went.

“…Hah.”

A sigh hovered in Siegfried’s mouth. He had come for the entrance ceremony of his one and only granddaughter, but being surrounded by people steeped in a superiority complex made his stomach churn. His white brows curved with distaste at the sight of them huddling together while disgracing the glory of their forebears.

Then someone approached him from the opposite side.

She was a beauty with long green hair that fell to her waist, mint-green eyes, and a dark robe thrown over her body like a bathrobe. The deep neckline displaying her cleavage was enough to draw anyone’s gaze.

“Oh my, Zeke. Long time no see?”

“Ha, so it’s you, Media. I told you not to call me that. And what is that outfit supposed to be for someone who’s the academy head? It seems the years haven’t done much for your sense, even at seventy.”

The Sword Emperor clicked his tongue and frowned, and Media flashed him a seductive smile and poked him in the side.

“Come on, isn’t it every woman’s wish to stay young and beautiful until the day she dies? Just say the word, Zeke. With my blessing, I can make you look ten years younger.”

“The outer shell means little to me. What matters in a human being is the heart.”

“Ugh, you old fossil. Half a century later and you’re still exactly the same.”

“And half a century later, you still haven’t grown up.”

“Hmph. Fine. What kind of conversation could I possibly have with an old man whose black dye has all washed out?”

“…Is that really your line, when you’re nearly seventy yourself?”

As her answer, she let out a single snort and sat down beside Siegfried.

“That aside, Zeke, you’ve changed quite a bit.”

“In what way?”

“You never used to come to places like this. You always said you couldn’t stand talking to people like them.”

Media jerked her chin toward the paunchy man chatting in the distance.

The Sword Emperor answered only with silence.

“Your granddaughter must be awfully precious to you. Maybe I should get married too while I’m at it. Build myself a cozy little family, have some children.”

“You?”

“Oh, look at this one. Why not me? Is my face lacking? Is my figure lacking? On top of that, I’m the head of the prestigious Hoakin Academy! Where are you going to find a woman better than me, hmph.”

She hitched up her black robe slightly to show off smooth, pale skin.

“As a comrade who once fought through life and death beside you.”

The Sword Emperor said it in a low voice.

“late childbirth is bad for the body.”

“You son of a bitch! Want to die?!”

When Media grabbed him by the collar with her face flushed red, the Sword Emperor answered with a dry smirk.

Their petty bickering went on for several minutes before Media, worn out, dropped back into her seat.

“How is this year’s class assignment test being handled?”

“What, you came here without even knowing that?”

Media’s voice rose at the Sword Emperor’s question. His brow creased.

“Did you take me for one of those trashy fools who bribe their way into everything? This should be an equal place of learning. Naturally, no one should know the contents of the exam before the day itself.”

“Ha, what a stubborn idiot. But yes, you’re right. Rumors do spread among heroic families like some natural custom, but it needs to be corrected in my generation.”

Media’s fingernails tapped lightly against the armrest.

“This year we’re doing it battle royale style. Groups of ten, and they’re ranked by how long they manage to stay alive.”

“…”

“Don’t tell me… you don’t know what battle royale means?”

A brief silence followed. Media let out a mocking laugh and crossed her legs.

“I do.”

“Then what is it? Go on, say it. If you don’t know, I’m calling you an old fossil for a while.”

At that muttered taunt, the Sword Emperor lowered his voice.

He also coughed into it here and there, for good measure.

“Battle and royal. In other words, that game they say is popular among university students, King’s Game.”

“…Idiot.”

Even as the two giants traded verbal blows.

[The exam will now begin, so all cadets are requested to ready their weapons.]

An announcement rang out to signal the start of the test.