Chapter 91: Midterm Exams (8)

Louis’s expression looked unusually resolute, so Carl stepped aside without resistance.

He sprang forward with Kaiden, crossing the ruined city, and before long, they spotted Laysis limping in the distance.

“Haap!!”

Perhaps spurred on by Louis, Kaiden lunged without the slightest hesitation.

It was a strike so sharp that an average cadet wouldn’t even have dared to react.

It was clear why Louis kept him close—his balance was impeccable.

Whoosh.

But contrary to what they thought, Laysis, who seemed nearly out of strength, planted her feet and spun, delivering a counter like a bolt of lightning.

She quite literally aimed to give flesh and take bone.

Slash─!

The two blades crossed.

Kaiden’s sword cut into Laysis’s waist, while Laysis’s sword pierced straight through Kaiden’s heart.

Thud-thud-thud!

Dealt a fatal blow in one strike, Kaiden rolled heavily across the ground and collapsed.

It was a wound that could have killed instantly, so he was, without question, retired from the match.

“Ugh.”

Laysis, seemingly at her limit as well, sank to the ground, panting heavily.

From the start, she had been chased by Nerian before encountering Louis’s party.

On top of that, she had endured Louis and Kaiden’s combined assault, pushing her to the brink.

Even if she had deflected Kaiden’s sword with minimal damage, she could barely so much as lift a finger now.

Step.

While she was steadying her breathing with one hand on the ground, a long shadow fell over her.

With a weary smile, Laysis lifted her head.

“I just got away, and now I’m caught again.”

“Can you still hold out?”

“No. I can’t move. I’m really exhausted. I don’t think I was pushed this hard even in the Erendal Forest.”

Laysis leaned against a nearby wall and waved her hand feebly.

If she had been wounded, it might have been easier, but all the damage had translated into mental strain, pressing heavily on her mind.

If she let her guard down even for a moment, she felt like she’d lose consciousness and drift into sleep.

Carl looked at her for a moment, then turned his head toward the back.

“Then why don’t we call the test here and watch the fight over there?”

“…What?”

“At this point, you’ve earned enough points to be satisfied. I’m not particularly greedy, so I think we can stop here.”

Carl lifted his head and scanned the inside of the city.

It seemed their party was not the only one hunting cadets; others had been fiercely targeting each other as well.

Now, the only cadets left in the city were himself, Laysis, and Nerian and Louis fighting in the distance.

“Will that be okay, though? You need to take me down to earn points, right?”

“If it were a written exam, I’d consider it seriously. But for the practical, it’s fine.”

“True, you did say that.”

Hearing Carl say he wouldn’t take her down even now made Laysis laugh.

“Besides, watching an interesting fight alone would be boring.”

“Alright then. In that case—ugh…”

Having recovered a bit of stamina from resting, Laysis tried to stand, only to collapse back into place.

Her legs wouldn’t move properly, as if all the strength had left her body.

“What now?”

Laysis looked at him with a troubled expression.

Carl, looking unconcerned, reached out and took her arm.

At first, he meant to help her walk, but when she couldn’t even stand, he simply picked her up.

“Ah!?”

Laysis was genuinely startled by Carl’s action, holding her as if handling a child.

If anything, she would have preferred being carried on his back—this posture was a bit…

Still, being on the receiving end of kindness, it felt wrong to make demands, so she just gathered her hair to hide her bright red face.

“No one’s watching, right?”

“There are no cadets left.”

At most, only Instructor Frahan, who was overseeing the exam, might be around.

That blunt instructor would no doubt be more interested in Nerian and Louis’s blood-spattered duel than in their side, where the fighting had ended.

Carl climbed a modest slope and found a spot.

From there, the clearing where Nerian and Louis fought was clearly visible—a spot prepared just for them.

With the sunset as a backdrop, the two men below fought fiercely to determine who was superior, while on the hill, a man and a woman leaned against each other.

Since Laysis even found sitting difficult, Carl offered his body as a support for her to rest against.

“…They both still look lively. Guess they don’t get tired.”

“They’re tired. I’m not sure about Nerian, but Louis has been marching and fighting nonstop. Even so, he’s holding out to avoid losing the battle of momentum.”

“Well, they are supposed to be rivals… rivals? I think? I only heard about it in passing, so I’m not too sure.”

As she watched the fight, Laysis let out a small yawn.

The warm sunset, combined with Carl’s comfortable presence, was making her already exhausted body demand rest.

By the time the battle reached its climax, Laysis had fallen asleep.

Tap.

Carl let her rest her head on his lap to make her more comfortable.

Had he ever done something like this for anyone since his days in the Central Plains?

“…”

Even so, Carl kept his eyes fixed on Nerian and Louis’s fight.

‘They certainly deserve to call each other rivals.’

Both could be considered top-tier among cadets.

They came from good families, and their bloodlines were beyond question.

But there was a difference in how their talents had manifested.

While Nerian could freely wield the Power of Ice, Louis’s bloodline inheritance had been cut off several generations ago.

Perhaps that was why.

Since their first clash, Nerian had not used the Power of Ice against Louis.

“…Why aren’t you using your power?”

Louis asked, suppressing the breath that had risen to his throat.

Their swordsmanship and physical strength were roughly equal.

In terms of individual advantages, they were almost evenly matched.

But once a power was brought into play, the story changed drastically.

Especially since the Power of Ice had an absolute effect on living targets.

At the same level, countering the Power of Ice was difficult.

And yet.

And yet, he couldn’t help but ask.

Why wasn’t he using his power in a fight against him?

Nerian ran a hand along his sword, then smirked as he replied.

“Who knows. Let’s just say it’s a courtesy to a rival. I’m not too fond of relying on my power anyway.”

“…”

At those words, Louis pressed his lips together.

It stung his pride to feel as though he was receiving needless consideration, and Nerian’s frankness left him with a strange feeling.

‘A rival, huh.’

Louis gripped his sword more firmly.

He had always loudly declared Nerian his rival.

Before then, perhaps it wasn’t so clear, but ever since entering the academy, the difference between them had become obvious.

During the entrance exam terrorism incident, Louis had been unable to do anything, while Nerian had achieved such merit that His Majesty the Emperor had awarded him a medal personally.

From the start, the gap between them had been drawn by the presence or absence of a power, and now it seemed an insurmountable depth had formed between them.

That was why Louis had clung so stubbornly to the notion of rivalry, determined to drag Nerian down to his own level.

…And so, regardless of what Nerian truly thought, hearing him call Louis a rival made something well up from deep within.

Clench.

He tightened his grip on his sword.

Casting aside useless emotions and stray thoughts, he let out a long breath and spoke.

“Then I’ll force you to use it.”

In truth, his body had already reached its limit.

Nerian was probably the same.

Even so, neither of them showed the slightest sign of wavering—because of pride, the refusal to lose to the other.

“…”

Louis erased all expression from his face and gathered every last ounce of the strength he’d been saving.

His sharpened focus rose to a frightening level, locking solely onto Nerian.

‘That’s right. I never received the blessing.’

It wasn’t just him.

His father, his grandfather, and his other siblings as well.

For some reason, none of them had been chosen by the wind.

But Louis had not stopped at despair—he had worked tirelessly.

Because of that, though he never received the blessing of the wind, he had learned to see the flow of the “wind” to some extent.

Saaah…

He could see the currents.

The world was a cycle full of flow upon flow.

To follow that flow was to move with the natural order.

To go against it was to move in defiance.

The killing aura he and Nerian gave off created multiple streams of flow within the space.

Trying to perceive them all made his head throb and his eyes feel like they were burning.

Even so, Louis did not blink once, waiting for that single moment of opening.

Saaah…

A path toward Nerian.

Without the blessing of the wind, he could not control the wind itself.

But he could ride those currents and draw in the lingering wind to use it.

Shwiik─!

The Sonic Burst changed.

Nerian felt Louis’s sword—now far faster than before—strike against his own.

“…”

To awaken a power didn’t simply mean becoming a snowman who could make ice crystals.

It meant seeing what others could not see.

Hearing what others could not hear.

It meant shedding the limits of an ordinary human and becoming something on a higher plane.

Saaah…

Nerian’s eyes took in the strength of his power.

…And then, he saw it.

‘That is…’

Louis seemed unaware, but faint currents of wind were swirling behind his back.

They pushed at him, lending strength, almost like a mother encouraging her child.

Nerian didn’t know much about Wolfsburg’s bloodline inheritance, but he suspected this might be the lost blessing of the wind.

‘Whatever the case, it doesn’t matter.’

He would simply do his best, his way.

Alone, unyielding, lofty.

That was why he was a Hopenheim.

Kwaaaang!

The two men’s all-out strikes collided dead center.

In an instant, the power driven to its limit froze the surrounding area, turning it into a frozen zone.

Shattered debris and crumbling ruins were all caught in the aftermath, as though time had stopped.

…But one thing alone.

The flowing wind escaped, untouchable.

Thud.

Louis collapsed, unconscious.

He fell forward without a twitch, clearly knocked out in an instant.

Even having given his all, he could not overturn the difference in level.

Scrape.

The sword slipped from Nerian’s grasp.

He had not fully blocked Louis’s strike either.

If this had been a real battle, his right arm holding the sword would have been severed.

Hoo─.

White breath escaped and scattered in the air.

Clutching his spasming arm tightly, Nerian picked up his fallen sword and slid it into its sheath.

Then he stepped up to the collapsed Louis, looking down at him with a faintly amused smile.

“Now this could get interesting.”

If this clash had allowed Louis to gain the blessing, then it would have been by his own effort.

If so, perhaps he had gained a worthy opponent.

Beep.

[The test has ended.]

[1st place: Nerian, Forzer, Lunen]

Of course, catching up to him would still take a great deal of effort.

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