Chang!

Brace calmly responded to the first sword slash.

His skills were clearly different from the mediocre opponents who had never managed to block Luca’s initial sword slash, even when they knew he always used it for his first attack.

Luca immediately followed up by using distancing.

Ting! Chang!

Distancing—a technique where, with the swords clashing, you use the hilt to strike the opponent’s hand or guard, disrupting their balance before deflecting the blade.

Many people knew of this move, yet were unable to block it.

However, Brace calmly defended against this as well.

‘Ho.’

Luca was impressed inwardly.

It definitely wasn’t just because of Martin’s manipulations that Brace entered S-class as the top student in the Swordsmanship Department during the entrance exam.

‘Besides, this guy… he’s not reinforcing his body.’

Luca had never reinforced his body with magic power during a tournament, and that remained true now.

He had always beaten students who reinforced their bodies with magic power using only the natural power of his well-trained physical body.

But since Luca was not reinforcing his body now, Brace also refrained from doing so.

It was likely because of the teachings of the Avint family, which trained knights.

‘Well, that’s fine. This is a good warm-up, at least.’

Though his distancing was blocked, Luca actually became more excited.

He finally had an opponent he could truly enjoy fighting.

Tung!

“!”

The moment their swords collided, a heavy reverberation was felt through the blade.

Brace flinched at this new pattern, but it was also one of the basic sword techniques he had learned at the knight training center.

Brace frowned slightly.

‘Is this sword breaker?’

If a sword slash cut through the blade, the sword breaker shattered it.

While a sword slash could cleave a blade in a single strike, the sword breaker required several heavy blows, so it took more time.

However, that made it more difficult to deal with, making dodging or deflecting the best approach.

‘Are you really planning to use only basic techniques?’

Brace didn’t realize that the only swordsmanship Luca could use at the moment was basics, so he still believed Luca was looking down on him.

‘Fine, then. I’ll match you with basics too!’

Train the foundation, and you’ll be able to master advanced swordsmanship—such was the Avint family’s teaching.

Brace diligently honed his basic swordsmanship in line with this principle.

Chang! Chang! Chang!

Brace’s skills were enough to hold his own against Luca, who no one else could withstand for even a few exchanges.

In details, he clearly lost out to Luca, but he managed to hang on through improvisation.

‘This is interesting.’

The fighting spirit within Luca grew as he sparred with Brace.

Simultaneously, his sword grew heavier and more complex.

Chang! Tung! Kang!

“!”

The first move targeted gaps in vision and light—a feinting slash.

The second was the sword breaker, and the third was a blunt strike pushing away the opponent’s blade.

Brace managed to counter all three, beads of sweat forming, but he had been so flustered by the first feint that he failed to properly block the moves that followed.

‘To think this much pressure comes only from basics…?’

Brace felt cold sweat running down the back of his neck.

He could feel himself gradually losing ground.

Luca was simply too high a wall to overcome with the basics alone.

‘Damn it. Not even Wylde Traverse, just Luca Traverse…!’

The Traverse family, sword masters forged on the battlefield, and the Avint family, sword masters specializing in training knights at the rear, were both celebrated families of swordsmanship, but their fields were completely different.

They were not considered official rivals externally.

But as the heir to his family, Brace harbored a sense of rivalry.

It was hard to compare himself directly to Wylde Traverse, the eldest son, who was three years older and already dubbed the “Return of the Fang” and regarded as a legendary swordsman.

So, even if it wasn’t a perfect matchup, he wanted to fight the second son, Luca Traverse.

Having heard that Luca, labeled a talentless second son constantly overshadowed by Wylde, was someone he ought to be able to defeat, he jumped at the chance.

In fact, at the time of their group assignment test, Luca had been rated top of the Swordsmanship Department.

Luca was in A-class as well.

Brace thought he had won.

Not long after, Luca suddenly rose to S-class, but still, Brace paid little attention.

He figured it didn’t matter anyway—he was enrolled in SA-class, and the only one who kept Luca company was Ottbo Gress, a fellow second son, always being looked down upon.

Brace, on the other hand, attended S-class and forged friendships with prominent first sons like Archiond and Igar from the main families.

He thought he’d won both in skill and in connections.

However, during the practical exercise, he suffered a sudden defeat.

‘Archiond acted too passively.’

Brace was furious at having lost to Luca Traverse but restrained himself, believing he would have won had he been the team leader.

So he let it slide at the time.

‘I’ll show him what I can do in the Swordsmanship Department’s overall sparring session.’

He vowed to prove himself in a direct match during the test.

He was confident—he had worked hard, had talent, and received recognition.

But now, facing Luca directly, he sensed a wall.

‘Why is he so strong?’

It was a one-on-one fight—no one else to blame.

Here, Brace was being pushed back.

‘If he used proper advanced sword techniques… If he used magic power…!’

Brace admitted that he was losing in the basics, but he didn’t believe he would lose when it came to techniques using magic power.

‘Isn’t he only using basics because he’s not confident with magic power anyway?’

Having reached this conclusion, Brace pushed Luca back and retreated, a very different atmosphere radiating from him.

‘Hmm?’

Luca watched him with a subtle expression.

‘Has he finally realized?’

It was clear to anyone that Brace couldn’t defeat Luca with basics alone.

It seemed Brace was about to set aside his pride and use magic power.

‘I wonder what Avint family swordsmanship, powered by magic, is like?’

In fact, Luca had never truly seen swordsmanship used with magic power.

The closest was Wylde, who stormed around—but even that felt more like rampaging than structured swordsmanship.

‘I might as well see how impressive real swordsmanship can be.’

With that thought, Luca stirred his own magic power.

“Haaaah!”

Then Brace let out a fierce shout.

An overwhelming force of magic power burst forth from his body.

At the same time, his sword glowed blue with magic power.

“Luca Traverse! Try blocking this if you can!”

With that shout, Brace gripped his sword with both hands and crouched.

His blade drew naturally inward, his body coiled like a spring, compressing his strength.

Then, as he uncoiled, he shot forward like a cavalry charge.

― Avint Charge Sword Technique, form 3: Cavalry Attack.

The Avint Charge Sword was a powerful thrust technique, focusing a magically-enhanced body’s strength into a single point and exploding forward.

The moment of impact combined physical force with a surge of magic through the sword, strong enough to shatter the opponent on contact.

Brace’s thrust flew across the not-so-large training ground and was at Luca in an instant.

‘Try blocking this basic technique!’

Even in his whole life, Brace had never executed the Cavalry Attack this perfectly—he could swear to that.

The focus of strength, the division of magic power, body movement during the charge—all flawless.

His eyes were filled with exultation.

‘I won!’

In that moment, Brace’s gaze met Luca’s.

“……?”

Still, Luca’s gaze was calm and distant.

His clear, unshaken eyes reflected Brace’s charging figure.

Time seemed to slow.

Srrk.

Luca’s sword moved slowly, meeting the approaching blade of Brace.

In that instant, the magic power coating Brace’s blade split apart before Luca’s sword, peeling away like fruit skin.

“!”

Tung!

The guards protecting their hilts collided.

The collision absorbed the impact of the thrust.

Chang-garang!

“!”

Simultaneously, Brace’s blade—which had already been weakened by previous sword breaker blows—shattered into pieces.

The protection of the magic power coating was gone thanks to Luca’s sword, and all the force concentrated in both blades crashed together, shattering the already fragilized blade.

“Winner, Luca Traverse!”

“Waaaaaaaah!”

A broken weapon meant immediate defeat.

As soon as the judge announced Luca’s victory, the other students watching the match in tense silence erupted in cheers.

Regardless of whom you supported, it was a spectacular match, thrilling to any true swordsman.

“……”

But Brace wore a blank expression.

Even Luca’s finishing move seemed just an application of basic skills.

To the very end, Luca never showed anything that could truly be called “advanced swordsmanship”.

‘I lost completely…’

A flawless defeat, pure and simple.

From start to finish, he never once had the upper hand.

‘Was this really all I amounted to?’

A crushing sense of powerlessness filled him.

At that moment, Luca approached and held out a hand.

“It was a fun fight. I look forward to the final exam.”

“……”

Is he mocking me? Brace looked at Luca—then swallowed.

The same indifferent eyes as before the match, showing neither tremor, excitement, nor ridicule.

The anger and humiliation boiling inside him dissipated.

‘… So that’s why Archiond likes him.’

All that remained was a bitter smile.

Though he lost, it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant. In the end, Brace gave a wry grin and took Luca’s offered hand.

“It was excellent swordsmanship. I’ll work even harder until the final exam.”

* * *

“Hey! Did you hear? Luca Traverse, the second son of the Traverse family, made it to the finals of the first-year Swordsmanship Department tournament!”

“What? Isn’t he supposed to be nothing compared to Wylde Traverse? Just a pretty face.”

“No way! They say he was amazing in the semifinals! Even that Brace Avint couldn’t defeat him!”

News of Luca’s advancement spread through not just the Swordsmanship Department, but the entire Academy in moments.

It was thanks in part to the many people interested in Luca, and partly because someone hoping to draw attention to him deliberately spread the rumor further.

“Who’s his opponent in the finals?”

“Don’t know. Supposedly just a commoner? But she’s a girl.”

“A commoner, but she got into S-class in the Swordsmanship Department? And she’s a girl?”

At the same time, people focused on Isella, his opponent.

It wasn’t exactly welcome attention, but Milia didn’t interfere—it was bound to happen eventually.

‘Given the situation, it’s actually better. With everyone watching, it’ll be harder to make a move against her.’

In fact, this was for the best.

The assumed ally, Duke Partigel, had betrayed her, and the princes knew she was at the Academy.

In such circumstances, building power behind the scenes in secret wasn’t realistic.

‘If they act openly now, I can keep an eye on what the others do.’

Whether they knew her calculations or not, Luca and Isella stood in the training ground.

This time, Luca didn’t hide his burning fighting spirit.

“So, we finally meet.”

“I wonder how much you’ve improved.”

Isella, often compared to Luca in resemblance, blazed with fighting spirit just like him.

Even she found Luca’s progress astonishing; she was excited to see how much stronger he had become.

“Both contestants, get ready!”

Srrng.

As Luca and Isella drew their swords in perfect sync, the judge shouted.

“Start!”

* * *

A beautiful garden, decorated with all sorts of flowers.

But not a single one of the blooms was of a type that grew in the Hernan Empire.

Seated quietly amid the flowers, a beautiful woman with her hair in pigtails, the picture of elegance, enjoyed her tea.

“They must be right in the middle of exams over there.”

She wore a bitter expression, staring down at her teacup.

Just then, a young boy approached her side.

“Sis, are you still talking in that weird way?”

Seeing the dismissive look on his face, the woman pouted.

“Weird talk? This is a special adaptation of the noble Lamata dialect, refined for the Hernan Empire!”

“Fine, but please just talk normally here. It’s irritating to listen to.”

“Haaa. Gremo, you simply don’t understand beauty.”

The woman shook her head and took another sip of tea, while the boy—Gremo—pouted.

“I don’t even want to know about elder sister Pasmo’s bizarre sense of aesthetics.”

“Phew. So, how’s Lamata Academy? Having fun?”

Pasmo Thier.

She was in her mansion in the Thier duchy.

Her visitor was her younger brother, Gremo Thier, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Meh. But if you come, it’ll be more fun.”

If you come.

Pasmo sighed at his words.

“Haah. It’s so sad. To leave Luca behind and come back here.”

Her eyes turned to a piece of paper lying by the teacup.

“Luca? Who’s that?”

“He is…”

To Gremo’s puzzled question, Pasmo replied, her eyes dreamy, then gave a wry smile.

“The most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

Lamata Royal Academy transfer application.

Those were the words written on the paper.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep