Chapter 40: The Same Old Bastard (1)

Due to an unprecedented incident involving a demonic monster’s attack, the Sealing Festival had come to an end, recorded as the worst festival in the history of the Hero Academy. The only silver lining, if there was one, was that no civilians or cadets had lost their lives. While many were injured, quick actions taken by professors and a few cadets had fortunately prevented a complete disaster.

Nevertheless, could an incident where demonic monsters ran wild within the academy grounds really be brushed off as a minor mishap? The academy administration declared an indefinite closure of the academy and pledged to put all their efforts into uncovering the truth behind the incident. It sounded dramatic, but in the end, not much was revealed.

They were able to make only a few discoveries: First, Professor Morpheus, the person in charge of the festival, was a demon in disguise; second, he had smuggled other demons into the academy under the guise of merchants, orchestrating the chaos; and third, he had vanished immediately after the incident and fled the academy grounds.

That was the extent of the academy’s official statement on this incident. Such a statement naturally resulted in a flood of criticism. The mastermind was a demon that had infiltrated the academy and served as a professor for years, his true identity and motives remaining completely unknown even now, and they had let him escape—due to such glaring failures, public opinion of the academy began spiraling downward.

It was only thanks to the intervention of Lionel Ryu, the current headmaster of the Hero Academy, that the situation finally calmed. Also known as the Thunder God, Lionel was a hero himself, who belonged to the Republic’s most prestigious family and ranked third in the Tri-Nation Hero Rankings. He had immediately released a statement of his own.

“This incident happened because I wasn’t here. If anyone is to be blamed, it should be me.”

Of course, no one dared to blame him. So, with his return, the demonic monster incident was finally laid to rest, and the Hero Academy was set to resume normal operations after a two-week closure.

***

Looking at the training room inside the academy’s medical facility, which was primarily used by injured cadets for rehabilitation training, I wondered, So, people using a private recovery room also get a private training room, huh? Money indeed makes things better.

I stepped toward the door and scanned it with my Hero Watch.

Beep!

[Hero cadet Dale Han. Identity confirmed.]

The door opened to reveal a training room roughly 65 square meters wide. I sat down in the middle of the room, closed my eyes, and circulated the mana dormant within my soul stigmata throughout my energy networks. “Alright, let’s see.”

As expected, the amount of mana within my soul stigmata had increased after I had fought Astaroth, about 1.5 times. It wasn’t anywhere near the limitless power I had felt when the Primordial Flame had engulfed me, but it was now about half of what an average cadet could ever dream of having.

The most important thing, though, wasn’t the amount of the increase; it was that the increase had happened all at once. Normally, building up mana was a slow and steady process, achieved through daily practice of breathing techniques. Sure, in rare cases, someone could gain a sudden burst of power by consuming special elixirs or experiencing an epiphany, but those were the exception, not the rule.

“If I could wrap myself in the Primordial Flame again like I did back then, maybe I could boost my mana even further,” I muttered. The flame that had once engulfed my body during the fight with Astaroth had since receded deep within my soul stigmata, lying dormant, unmoving.

If I can enter that flame-state, Incarnation of Fire, on command, I will never have to worry about mana again. Problem is, I still don’t know what triggered it in the first place, I thought.

I had coined that flame-state, where my entire body was wreathed in fire, the Incarnation of Fire. Mulling it over, I had formed a few hypotheses based on my memory of the incident, the first being that it activated when I experienced numerous deaths in a short period.

I knew the Primordial Flame reacted to my deaths as I had tested that thoroughly during daily training sessions where I died and revived four times a day. It seemed the most plausible theory at first.

However, even when I had pushed myself to the brink of mental collapse through constant deaths, the Incarnation of Fire didn’t trigger again. I had even snuck out of the recovery room behind Iris’s back to experiment, repeating the cycle of dying and reviving nonstop, but the flame didn’t so much as flicker.

The second hypothesis was that it activated when I exhausted all my mana. This experiment yielded the same result, however: no reaction from the Primordial Flame.

The third hypothesis was that the Primordial Flame responded to intense willpower. Frankly, I wasn’t even sure about this one when I thought it up. Back then, when the flame had surged to life and engulfed me, my mind had been consumed with a single thought—I have to save Iris.

“In terms of sequence, that one lines up the best.” But I couldn’t be certain that willpower alone had triggered the transformation.

I let out a deep sigh and shook my head. “What is this, a damn shonen manga?”

Anyway, if one thing had become clear through all this testing, it was that right now, I had no way of entering the Incarnation of Fire state at will. So, for now at least, it wasn’t something I could count as part of my fighting strength. I couldn’t rely on a power I was unable to control.

I set aside all thoughts of the Incarnation of Fire state and gripped my sword. If that power was off the table, did that mean the only thing I had gained from the fight was more mana? Not exactly.

A faint tremble spread from my hand through the sword. It felt like the sword and my hand were fused. This was an entirely new sensation, something I had never experienced in all my centuries of wielding a sword across the continent.

Moreover, my swordsmanship had improved. For so long, I had been stuck and my skill plateaued. But now, after finally executing a technique I had only ever envisioned in my mind, it felt like a dam had broken, like a blocked energy flow had finally burst open. My swordsmanship had taken a giant leap forward.

Well, I was only able to use it properly once, I thought.

Without the Incarnation of Fire state, I could no longer employ that technique. Nevertheless, the gap between the Ninth Form of the Sun Sword style and the swordsmanship that I could perform with my usual amount of mana was unbridgeable, like the gap between zero and one. The experience of wielding the Ninth Form just once had improved my martial arts way beyond its current limits.

As the saying went, one did not merely learn swordsmanship without reaping collateral gains. Alongside my sword’s newfound edge, every movement, down to the Berald Combat Style, felt sharper and more precise than ever before.

“Magic… still feels a bit iffy,” I admitted aloud.

Although I had used barrier magic against Astaroth, my training in magic remained largely theoretical. I lacked the ease of casting spells in a real battle. It was time I got comfortable with magic, too.

In the past, a dire shortage of mana had kept me from even attempting spells. But now, having mastered both sword and hand-to-hand combat, learning to cast magic seamlessly in combat could make me exponentially stronger.

I tested the air, envisioning a rematch with Professor Kane. “With my current strength, I can probably give him a real fight, without needing a Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion, even.”

I longed to rush back and challenge him to another sparring match, but there was no way Iris would let that happen. Smiling dryly at the thought, I prepared to return to solo training in the training room, when a sudden BANG! startled me.

The door burst open, and the Saintess herself stormed in, her face flushed with impatience. “Dale! I told you to rest quietly in bed! When did you sneak back here again?!”

“Well, a little exercise speeds up recovery—”

“Quiet!” Without letting me even finish, Iris grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the recovery room.

***

A few days had passed under Iris’s strict watch in the private recovery room. At last, I tasted freedom and stepped out to bask in the sunlight.

“You could stay here until classes resume,” Iris muttered, her pout betraying her displeasure as she followed me outside.

“I agreed to one more day. Besides, don’t you need a break from nursing me?”

“Well.” She trailed off, glancing at Camilla, who stood nearby with a worried expression.

Camilla sighed and shook her head. “Inspectors from the Holy Empire have come to ensure the Saintess’s safety after the incident. You must return to the dorm today.”

“Aww! Can’t I stay just one more day?” Iris pleaded.

“No.” Camilla’s tone left no room for argument.

Iris glanced at me longingly before slumping, then turned toward the dorms.

Camilla hesitantly approached me. “Dale.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for protecting the Saintess.” She bowed deeply, nearly ninety degrees, in sincere gratitude. Though most of her memories had been wiped by Morpheus’s illusion, Iris had told her that I had protected her from the demonic monsters’ onslaught. Normally stern toward me, Camilla’s face now held genuine warmth.

I looked down at her and couldn’t help but smile. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Camilla blushed and looked away. “Ugh! Sh-shut up! Anyway, I sincerely thank you.”

“Words only?” I teased her.

“Hmm? Do you need compensation? If there’s something you want, you can tell me and—”

“Hey, hey, I’m joking!” What payment did I need for protecting my past life’s lover?

“Leaving it with just words feels unsatisfying. If you truly want some compensation, ask for anything.” Camilla insisted on it.

“Hmm.” I pondered what to request from Camilla, though I had never wished for anything. “Just give me anything you deem appropriate.”

“What? Appropriate? Now, now, protecting the Saintess is no small feat. You deserve something special. Ask away! We won’t hold back!” Camilla said confidently.

“Good grief, what a demanding lady! Then why don’t you pick out whatever you think I would like best as my payment?” I said nonchalantly.

“S-something you’d like?” Camilla’s cheeks burned red as she backed away, her hands darting to her “ample” chest, though there was nothing to hide in the first place. “O-of course! It’s obvious what a man would want! So you’re showing your true colors now!”

“What?”

Her face flushing bright red, Camilla shouted, “Ugh! You bastard! It’s obvious what a man wants most! Right, that’s it, right? Y-you’re trying to make me say stuff like, ‘Ha! You say no, but your body says yes.’ or ‘Your swordsmanship may be first-class, but down there you’re third-rate,’ aren’t you?!”

“What the hell are you talking about, you crazy woman?”

“Y-you vulgar brute!”

“No, wait a minute.”

The vulgar one here is clearly your imagination, I thought.

“Grrr! F-fine! I’ll prepare a reward… Something that can satisfy a man like you!” Camilla took off in a flustered sprint, chasing after Iris.

With a deep sigh, I turned and headed back to the dormitory.

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