Anger?

Meanwhile, the academy professors watching Flia and Ian’s duel couldn’t hide their admiration.

“Good heavens… To have two fighters of this caliber enroll! I’d heard there were many talented students among this year’s prospective applicants, but I never imagined they’d be this impressive.”

“Indeed.”

The professors praised the two of them for a while, but soon found themselves facing a major dilemma.

Namely, what class to assign Flia to.

Normally, no matter how impressive a student’s performance, a loss was still a loss, so the rule was to assign them to Class B. But this case was far too exceptional.

Flia’s strength was on an entirely different level from that of any previous applicant. And though she’d ultimately lost, it was due to letting her guard down, not a lack of ability—that was the problem.

“Wouldn’t it be better to assign her to Class A? It seems unreasonable to put someone that skilled in Class B. She might lose interest in the academy and drop out.”

“But a defeat is a defeat. Letting your guard down is part of your ability, so the proper course is to assign her to Class B. If we make an exception, influential families will put pressure on us.”

“But…!”

The deadlocked meeting finally came to an end when an assistant brought in some information.

“Here are the admission documents for the prospective student El! They include her adventurer records.”

“Oh? Her adventurer records?”

“Hmm… She’s only been an adventurer for two weeks, but she guarded a caravan and made a major contribution to hunting a wandering dragon?”

“That’s right! The famous ‘Dragon Hunters’ had plenty of praise for her, so it seems unlikely the records are false.”

“And apparently, she also came in first on this written exam!”

“Good heavens… A commoner came first in the entrance exam…”

“Then the decision is made.”

Unanimously.

And so, Flia was assigned to the very bottom of Class A.

…

The day after the entrance exam, Ian headed to the training grounds, which were open to prospective students, bright and early.

‘Yesterday’s duel. She was incredible…’

Aside from his father, the Hero, it was the first time he’d ever fought someone so strong.

In particular, the way she’d pushed two simple techniques—vertical and horizontal slashes—to their limits had sent a thrill through him.

She’d used them so well, he’d wondered if she’d spent her whole life practicing just those two techniques.

He’d heard there had been several people in the past who’d become the strongest by perfecting a single technique, so it seemed entirely possible.

‘Still… she was cute.’

Beyond their duel, Ian kept thinking of all the different sides of Flia.

The surprised expression she’d worn when she first saw him, her usual blank look, and the way the corners of her mouth had subtly lifted when he complimented her or gave her the teddy bear.

But the best of all was the sight of Flia sitting on the ground after her defeat.

She seemed never to have considered that she might lose. Her dazed expression and the tears welling in her eyes were honestly… cute.

‘…Have I always been this twisted?’

Feeling his tastes veer in a strange direction, Ian shook off his stray thoughts and opened the door to the training grounds.

-Whoooosh!

What he felt was warmth laced with a chill.

‘Huh? I can feel both a chill and heat?’

The source of that bizarre aura was none other than Flia, training in the middle of the grounds.

With her outerwear off, Flia was swinging her sword, drenched in sweat.

Her dazzling swordsmanship was completely different from what she’d shown yesterday. It radiated a chill, but the heat rising from Flia’s body canceled it out.

How long, and how intensely, must she have trained for that much heat to rise from her body without even using mana?

On top of that, her swordsmanship was so refined that Ian couldn’t even compare to it.

A deadly blade concealed beneath all that flourish. That was the only way to describe it.

Only then did Ian realize he’d been mistaken about one thing.

He’d thought Flia seemed strangely relaxed, but he hadn’t realized she hadn’t even properly shown a tenth of her strength.

‘…I beat someone like that and was celebrating?’

Of course, it was Flia’s fault for not going all out, and Ian had only taken advantage of the opening. Still, the sight of Flia sitting on the ground yesterday combined with the sight of her training now stirred a strange mixture of remorse and guilt in him.

I’d tried that desperately to beat a woman who wasn’t even using her full strength!

Flia noticed Ian, who was growing gloomy as his self-loathing slowly welled up.

“…Ian?”

She looked surprised for a moment, as if she hadn’t expected him to be here. Then she seemed to wilt, perhaps remembering yesterday’s defeat.

Feeling even guiltier at the sight, Ian put on an apologetic expression and spoke.

“…El. You’re already training? You’re diligent.”

“You too.”

Silence.

The air between them was so cold that it was hard to believe they’d been chatting normally just yesterday.

‘…I should at least apologize first.’

Thinking he had to say something, anything, Ian scratched his head and spoke.

“Um… El. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“…What?”

The moment she heard Ian apologize, Flia’s expression turned cold, and icy mana began seeping from her body. Ian didn’t notice and continued speaking.

“You weren’t even going all out, and I went too far, didn’t I? I got so caught up in trying to win by any means. Haha. Even I have to admit, it was a little pathetic…”

“Shut up!”

Flia cut Ian off, flew into a rage, and grabbed him by the collar.

Only then did Ian look Flia squarely in the face.

Her face was etched with fury. At her feet, mana had taken on physical form and surged violently, chilling the air around them. Frost was even forming on parts of the training grounds.

“You. Right now. Are you pitying me? You of all people?”

Flia continued, releasing even more mana.

“You beat someone overwhelmingly stronger than you by taking advantage of a moment of carelessness. You should be proud of yourself! And instead, you’re sitting there pitying me? Ha. Then what does that make me? Some pathetic loser who lost to an idiot who pities people just because they weren’t fighting at full strength?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Shut up! Even if that wasn’t what you meant, all you’ve done is mock me. It was my fault for not going all out. You simply did your best in your own way. Isn’t that enough? You don’t feel like you won at all? Are you annoyed because you think I looked down on you?”

“…That’s not it!”

“Then don’t ever spout that kind of bullshit again. Whatever the reason, you won. Just enjoy your victory.”

Flia let go of Ian’s collar, grabbed her outerwear, and headed out of the training grounds as she spoke.

“The next midterms. The promotion match then. I’ll beat you with everything I’ve got. If you disappoint me like this again…”

An immense killing intent poured from Flia.

Ian went pale as he faced killing intent so dense it could have filled the training grounds and then some. Flia delivered her verdict.

“I won’t forgive you.”

With that, Flia left the training grounds.

“…”

Only Ian remained, alone with his thoughts.

…

“…Ian?”

The first emotion I felt when I saw Ian was surprise.

He’d come to the training grounds this early? And after taking a point from me yesterday, he’d still come here to train. That was pretty surprising.

…Right. I lost yesterday.

That’s why I’d gotten up at the crack of dawn to train. I felt like I’d grown too complacent.

Ever since I’d become a Swordmaster, the only person I’d met who was stronger than me was my father, Flien. Everyone else seemed more or less on the same level.

So I’d naturally assumed I could beat Ian, too. I hadn’t thought he’d come up with a way to turn the tables.

Even a cornered rat will bite a cat. It was entirely my fault for assuming someone as strong as Ian couldn’t have a trick up his sleeve.

That was why I’d started training at dawn again—to find my way back to the days when I’d simply loved swinging my sword and fighting someone.

Maybe that was why I felt so grateful to Ian.

He’d beaten me, and a win was a win. But he’d also given me a chance to rediscover the joy of swinging my sword.

I’d been going around thinking, ‘The world is so boring…’ when I was only a Swordmaster. Honestly…

“…El. You’re already training? You’re diligent.”

“You too.”

Uh… What am I supposed to say now?

Normally Ian would’ve kept the conversation going, but he seemed strangely downcast and wasn’t saying anything.

Did he think I was mad? I wasn’t at all.

But the words that came out of Ian’s mouth were entirely different.

“Um… El. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“…What?”

Sorry? What for?

“You weren’t even going all out, and I went too far, didn’t I? I got so caught up in trying to win by any means. Haha. Even I have to admit, it was a little pathetic…”

“Shut up!”

At first, I thought I’d misheard him.

But the apologetic expression on Ian’s face told me I hadn’t.

So Ian—a person weaker than me—was apologizing because he’d taken advantage of my opening?

The moment I realized that, I couldn’t control the anger boiling up inside me.

Meanwhile, frigid mana poured from my body.

Only then did Ian see my face. He looked utterly stunned.

Hah. Did he think I wanted him to apologize?

“You. Right now. Are you pitying me? You of all people?”

The mana pouring out of me grew stronger and stronger, nearly becoming a storm. Frost formed all over the training grounds.

“You beat someone overwhelmingly stronger than you by taking advantage of a moment of carelessness. You should be proud of yourself! And instead, you’re sitting there pitying me? Ha. Then what does that make me? Some pathetic loser who lost to an idiot who pities people just because they weren’t fighting at full strength?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Shut up! Even if that wasn’t what you meant, all you’ve done is mock me. It was my fault for not going all out. You simply did your best in your own way. Isn’t that enough? You don’t feel like you won at all? Are you annoyed because you think I looked down on you?”

“…That’s not it!”

“Then don’t ever spout that kind of bullshit again. Whatever the reason, you won. Just enjoy your victory.”

Right. The winner has the right to claim the victory. No matter how underhanded it might have been, a win is still a win. And Ian hadn’t even done anything underhanded in the first place.

But that attitude did nothing but mock me. Putting down his own victory only made things even more humiliating for the loser.

So I declared,

“The next midterms. The promotion match then. I’ll beat you with everything I’ve got. If you disappoint me like this again…”

I’d beat him then. I’d go all out, so he’d better get stronger by then. He’d better not disappoint me again. Otherwise…

“I won’t forgive you.”

I’d make him regret ever being born.

Leaving Ian pale under the weight of my killing intent, I walked out of the training grounds.

…Was the killing intent a bit much?