Chapter 235 : Friendly Match (1)
Chapter 235: Friendly Match (1)
♠ ◆ ♥ ♣
The events involving the Holy Nation now felt like a lie, as Carl returned to his daily life.
A few days later, Laysis returned to Bayern, and the second semester swiftly passed until midterms began.
“Ughhh.”
Laysis, who had just finished studying in the library past midnight, stretched and let out a weary groan.
“Which was harder, studying in Bayern or staying at the royal palace of Alforam?”
At Yuria’s question, Laysis let out a dry laugh and replied.
“Of course it was Alforam. Just thinking about that oppressive attention from everyone still horrifies me.”
Her expression clearly showed how fed up she had been.
“You must’ve had a rough time. I guess it makes sense since it’s a position where you have to rule an entire nation.”
“My biggest fear is slipping up while speaking. There's no greater humiliation than that. How does Carl manage to speak so comfortably?”
“It’s simple.”
Carl, walking ahead, replied as if it were no big deal.
“Just assume they’re not people. In extreme cases, if you imagine a dummy standing in front of you, you won’t bother with trivial worries.”
“…Do you actually think like that when speaking?”
“It’s an old story. Everyone has had an awkward phase.”
Carl shrugged his shoulders.
It was the story of his younger days, when he had yet to mature into someone of worth.
“What’s important is the performance. Even if it’s nonsense, if you speak with strong confidence, it somehow gains persuasiveness.”
“What if you make the wrong decision?”
“It doesn’t really matter. Who’s going to hold you accountable? The scapegoat will just be one of the countless retainers. The king only needs to maintain his charisma.”
“You’re a ridiculous tyrant.”
Yuria also let out a dry laugh.
He was essentially saying he’d push the blame onto his subordinates and reap the benefits himself.
“Is that how NOX does it too?”
“I don’t need to.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t make mistakes. And even if I did, I have enough power to correct them immediately.”
“…I can’t deny that, but it’s a bit much to hear.”
“Be honest. You just thought I was kind of a jerk, didn’t you?”
Carl chuckled.
How long had it been since he had felt such a relaxed atmosphere?
Of course, beneath the surface, he was busy taking control of the underworld in the capital, which had been shattered, and expanding the organization across the continent.
Still, after living like this for over half a year, he seemed to have grown accustomed to this time in his own way.
“By the way, once exams are over, isn’t it time for the Walpurgis Night Festival?”
“Has it already gotten to that time?”
“Oh, Laysis, you probably don’t know. The schedule got adjusted while you were in Alforam.”
“I see. So, do you plan to win?”
When Laysis asked, Carl thought for a moment.
“I’m not sure if there’s a need.”
“Wouldn’t it be good to win? Others would like it too. And it’d boost your reputation.”
“If you win at the Walpurgis Night Festival, there are several benefits. It’s worth considering, don’t you think?”
Yuria joined in after Laysis.
It seemed there were hidden rewards involved, and the fervor in her eyes as she looked at Carl hinted at her eagerness.
‘Is this about that game?’
If so, it might not be a bad idea to play along.
Carl stopped walking and turned to the two of them.
“Yeah. It’s about the Walpurgis Night.”
“Is there something going on?”
“Could it be…”
As Yuria narrowed her eyes and spoke, Carl lightly nodded.
“I’m not entirely certain, but there’s a suspicion of terrorism from the Powers of the Demon Realm. With so much noble blood gathered in one place, they’ll likely try something.”
“Oh no.”
Laysis furrowed her brows.
It was already revealed that the Powers of the Demon Realm had reached into royal families across countries, including Alforam, in order to obtain their blood.
After all, they needed a medium to summon high-ranking demons or devils.
“Well, the cadets participating in an event like the Walpurgis Night Festival are usually from prestigious families.”
“There will probably be a lot of royalty and high-ranking nobles' children too. Definitely a prime target for them.”
“Although the Imperial Family claimed to have thoroughly prepared, there will surely be some breach. Make sure you both stay alert.”
“I’ll just stick close to Carl.”
“Me too.”
The two of them nodded at the same time.
If they stayed by his side, they’d likely avoid most dangers.
Carl could only let out a short, dry laugh at them.
After the midterms.
The Walpurgis Night Festival was just around the corner.
The Bayern Academy’s representative team was immersed in their final checks.
The first-year cadets, under Carl’s supervision, were sparring intensely in a near-real battle atmosphere.
“Isn’t this a bit over the top? We’re all just doing light checks since it’s the final stage.”
When Eriksen, the second-year representative, commented, Carl shook his head.
“You’re supposed to work even harder at the end. That way, there will be no regrets.”
“Well, that’s true…”
Eriksen found this junior, with his naturally cold aura, somewhat uncomfortable.
He hadn’t been like this at the start of the semester, but suddenly the mood shifted and he took control of the first-years in a flash.
He sometimes dropped by to observe the first-years’ training, but to be honest, he didn’t feel the need to intervene.
‘Because Carl just beats them all down by himself.’
Even he wasn’t sure he could beat Carl.
Actually, was that really the level of a first-year cadet?
Thinking back to his own past, he had been nothing but a rookie, but this side had a monster.
‘This year’s first-years should perform well.’
Even if nothing else, the victories in swordsmanship and the field Carl entered were pretty much guaranteed.
No matter how great the other academies were, there wouldn’t be another monster like Carl.
“Is everyone gathered?”
While the representative team was training, Professor Zerbik, the one overseeing the Walpurgis Night Festival, casually entered the training hall.
As Carl stepped forward and paused the sparring, Zerbik approached with an apologetic expression.
“Actually, the Junior Academy has proposed a friendly match.”
“A friendly match, you say?”
“They seem to want a light sword sparring between first-year cadets. If it's alright with you, I’d like to accept…”
Carl turned around to look behind him.
Perhaps because they had been pushed hard since midterms, everyone’s expressions were brimming with intensity.
Thinking they seemed more than ready, he lightly nodded and replied.
“The cadets have improved significantly, so I think it’ll be fine as a practice match.”
“That’s a relief. Actually, they’ve already arrived.”
“…Already?”
At Carl’s expression, which showed this was news to him, Professor Zerbik smiled awkwardly.
“They didn’t even send an official letter. They just barged in, insisting they wanted to observe this year’s first-year cadets.”
“That must have been troublesome.”
“Zerbik Academy also sent apologies, albeit indirectly. It seems their first-year representative is a bit… well, like that.”
The first-year representative of Zerbik Academy.
As Carl searched his memory, he understood why Professor Zerbik wore such a troubled smile.
‘He’s the eldest son of the House of Duke Bohm.’
Alongside Hopenheim, to which Nerian belonged, and the Wolfsburg family of Lewis, the House of Duke Bohm was one of the Empire’s most prestigious noble families.
The reason the duke’s eldest son didn’t enroll at Bayern Academy was simple.
‘Zerbik Academy is located within the Bohm Duchy.’
Though slightly less renowned than Bayern, it was still one of the top academies in the Empire.
And with the eldest son of the House of Duke Bohm showing up uninvited and pompous, it was understandable that Bayern found it awkward.
Soon, about ten individuals entered the training hall.
“…Tch, a face I hate to see.”
Lewis muttered with a frown.
When Carl glanced at him, Lewis shrugged and continued.
“He lives entirely on his own self-confidence, just like me. I guess it’s a case of self-loathing.”
“Hm.”
For someone saying that, Lewis had grown a lot.
The cocky aura from the past had largely faded, and his sense of inferiority toward Nerian had also greatly diminished.
“And I don’t know about the ‘eldest son’ part, but that guy’s talent is real. I’ve never beaten him. Part of the reason Nerian worked so hard was because of him too.”
Hearing this consistent high praise, Carl turned his eyes toward Werner Bohm, the eldest son of the House of Duke Bohm.
With brilliant blond hair and a radiant, handsome face, he looked impeccable.
He entered waving lightly to the crowd, then, having spotted something, brightened and strode purposefully toward the cadets.
“You’re the one?”
“…”
Standing in front of Carl, Werner grinned and extended his hand.
“I’m Werner. I heard there was someone who had completely dominated Bayern’s first-years, and I just had to see for myself. I look forward to this.”
“I’m Carlos.”
Carl gave a small nod and took his hand.
Clench.
However, the grip Werner exerted as he squeezed Carl’s hand was anything but ordinary.
Though he wasn’t using mana, his strength was enough to crush stone with ease.
“…Oh?”
Werner let out a soft exclamation at Carl’s unflinching response.
Usually, when he applied this kind of pressure, there were two typical reactions.
They would either succumb to the pain and flinch, or be surprised and instinctively apply force in return.
But regardless of the response, none could surpass his strength.
Except now.
‘His strength isn’t ordinary. Rather than an external force, his body itself seems exceptionally robust.’
Carl sent out a faint wisp of his inner qi to observe Werner’s interior.
He had initially thought this overwhelming power might be a trait of the Bohm family, but he soon sensed something unique coursing through Werner’s entire body.
‘His blood is different. Has he inherited a concentrated bloodline?’
Like most noble families, if one traced their lineage back far enough, there would usually be at least one heroic ancestor.
And sometimes, their descendants would strongly manifest echoes of that bloodline.
Carl himself was believed to have inherited such heroic blood within the Leipzig family, which explained his extraordinary abilities.
However, to Carl’s eyes, it was Werner before him who seemed to embody a truly potent heroic lineage.
“So you came because you want a friendly match?”
“Yeah. Five from our side, five from yours. What do you say—nice and simple?”
Werner released Carl’s hand.
It felt less like a human’s and more like gripping solid steel.
Whatever method he had used, it seemed that mere pressure wouldn’t be enough to determine superiority.
But Carl never once thought he was at a disadvantage.
“Hm.”
Carl nodded, finding it acceptable.
Glancing back, he began calling out the participants for the friendly match.
“Nerian, Lewis, Maximilian, Gale, and Laysis.”
Coincidentally, it was exactly those five.
With them, unless Werner himself took the field, victory would be easy.
Then Werner spoke with a sly grin.
“What about you? I think we’d have a pretty good match.”