Because I'd Never Been Outmatched in Strength

Today was the Academy facilities department's staff dinner.

It was also the day the headmaster's eyes nearly popped out at the sudden overnight surge in the budget.

The special-friction flooring—the Academy's pride and joy at the center of the training grounds—had long since been gouged beyond recognition.

The reason was that the shattered remains of the ninth blackwood sword were scattering through the air, accompanied by ragged breathing.

To be precise, it was the eighteenth wooden sword, counting Professor Sword's.

“Haa... haa...”

I didn't wipe away the thick beads of sweat trickling down my jaw.

I was too busy gripping the wooden sword tightly in both hands.

If I let go of the sword now, the sensation I'd just gained from breaking the ninth one would melt away with my sweat.

‘Damn it. The ninth one broke too.’...