I Became the Savior of the Academy’s Villains

Let's wind the clock back a little, to right after Kryphi and Luca's sparring match ended.

Kryphi, feeling pleased at Luca's growth, decided it was about time he checked just how strong Wylde had become.

'Let's see just how capable Wylde—the lifetime goal of Luca—really is, shall we?'

Of course, the last time Kryphi had seen him had been at the tournament last year, so he didn't expect there to be that much of a difference.

So, with a light heart, he went off to find Wylde.

Tung! Tung! Tung!

"Wow, this monster bastard... I really can't beat you anymore."

"Take it easy! Even right now, you're one of the strongest swordsmen on the entire continent!"

"...?"

Kryphi saw Wylde beating up his friends.

"You guys should try growing a bit too."

"No, you're just unbelievable, you know?"

"I'm going crazy. You were a monster before, but now you're a super-monster."

Wylde's friends were all strong students in their own right, but none of them could stand against him.

After wrapping up the sparring session with his friends, Wylde headed straight into his personal training.

Kryphi was watching him in secret.

'Something... I feel something odd...'

Kryphi could sense a strange presence coming from Wylde as he trained. Like he was holding back some kind of power.

"... Are you going to stay there the whole time?"

"!"

Just then, Wylde spoke in an indifferent voice, spotting Kryphi who was hiding. Kryphi was a little startled and made his appearance known.

"Hoho, for a student to spot me—even I still have a long way to go."

"... You're Luca's master, aren't you?"

Wylde spoke in a calm, indifferent manner. But it couldn't hide the fighting spirit in his tone.

"Hoho, well then."

Sensing this, Kryphi picked up one of the wooden swords set by the training ground.

Then, glancing back at Wylde, he spoke.

"I have some time on my hands. Let's see just how high Luca's goal actually is."

"... Please, give me your best."

And so began the duel between Kryphi and Wylde.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Wylde swung his sword with brute force.

Yet, within that was a flawless distribution of strength—something only a true master of the heavy sword style could do.

A single blow carried such perfect technique that all his strength was delivered without even a drop wasted.

Just brushing up against the blade sent a numbing shock through the whole body.

It seemed Wylde had already grasped the essence of the Fang Sword.

'Truly outstanding. At this level, perfecting the sword any further seems almost impossible.'

While admiring him internally, Kryphi smoothly deflected Wylde's strikes.

Then, in an instant, he hid himself in Wylde's blind spot and left sword shadows along every possible path of Wylde's counterattack.

Clang!

"!"

But with just a single, powerful swing, Wylde's blow shattered all of Kryphi's sword shadows.

An attack that should have been unavoidable—yet Wylde overpowered all of it with sheer brute force.

"Hooh."

Kryphi widened the gap between them, impressed.

Beyond what he'd imagined—Kryphi realized he'd have to get serious.

Woom!

"?"

At that moment, an ether blade flared up on Wylde's sword.

Kryphi's expression turned puzzled, and Wylde spoke still in that flat tone.

"You rarely get the chance to match swords with someone as strong as you. I'd like for us both to put forth our real feelings."

"Your real feelings? Will you be alright?"

If anyone else had said that, Kryphi would have just scoffed.

After all, Kryphi was one of the few Grandmasters still left on the continent.

But somehow, these words from the youth before him carried a different weight.

"... With you, yes."

Wylde said this, took a deep breath, and let his eyes go indifferent.

Tss tss tss—

"!"

Then, the color of Wylde's ether blade changed.

A deep green ether blade, mirroring the color of his hair.

'A will-imbued ether blade!'

The decisive factor that separates a Master from a Grandmaster is willpower.

Physical strength or technique can only be honed so far—eventually, you hit a ceiling.

To break through that wall and climb higher still, you need a single, unbreakable will.

Wylde had obtained just that.

'To protect Luca.'

With that single resolution, Wylde had ascended to even greater heights.

Pop!

"?"

But soon, the color of his ether blade reverted to normal.

Kryphi's expression turned puzzled once again.

Wylde spoke in a flat voice:

"It's still incomplete. I keep thinking I've grasped it, but it keeps slipping away."

Someone who didn't know better might have chided him for talking nonsense, but Kryphi understood right away.

"... I see. I get what you mean. It's not yet under full control, is that it?"

Kryphi had faced the same thing.

He reached Grandmaster status through killing intent, but for a long time, he couldn't fully control it.

It was only through his own master, Zeritz, that he managed to get a handle on it.

But for Wylde, that wouldn't be possible. Here, the only one who could help him was Kryphi.

'But if I help him...'

It would just make the wall Luca had to overcome even higher.

Kryphi hesitated a moment.

But not for long.

"Understood. I'll help you."

"... Thank you."

Wylde seemed like he wanted to ask something, but didn't.

'Why would you help me?'

Surely, as Luca's master, he knew what Luca's goals were—so why help Wylde?

Of course, the reason was simple.

'His will is so much warmer than my own sword.'

Kryphi could see Wylde's resolve through his sword.

The desire to protect someone.

It was so clear, Kryphi didn't even need it spelled out.

'Besides, isn't it better for the target to be even higher, haha.'

Of course, there was a little macho sentiment mixed in there too.

* * *

"Damn! Nobody said there was another Grandmaster here!"

"Who is it? Don't tell me—it's Zeritz, the Invincible Sword?"

"No, his sword is totally different from this... Gah!"

Just like the previous two squads, Meratz's Darkness squad had launched their infiltration at a relaxed pace.

But faced with a perfect will-imbued ether blade, they were utterly helpless.

Wylde was all but singlehandedly taking down the third prince's special forces, darkness.

His friends were helping, but not in any meaningful way.

"By the way, why do we have to wear these ridiculous masks?"

"So no one can recognize us, obviously..."

"This is nuts. Who showed that bastard the masked knight Z, anyway?"

"Ahem! That's not important right now!"

"It was you, wasn't it?"

It wasn't just the swordsman with the mask W wearing a mask—Wylde's entire squad of friends had them too.

But it didn't seem to be a particularly happy thing.

"As fun as this is, let's keep it down a little, so we don't wake up the other students."

Just then, Kryphi joined the fray.

"Kr—Kryphi Mosto too?!"

With Kryphi's addition, the special forces were routed in an instant. Kryphi looked at the subdued soldiers and smiled.

"When the headmaster gets here, I'm sure she'll get all the answers out of you—even what you don't want to say."

"...."

A normal special forces squad would have committed suicide to avoid leaving traces, but Kryphi, having anticipated that, had already severed all their tendons and restrained them with special magical tools he received from Herote.

"Well then, thank you all for your hard work. Shall I ask the headmaster to give you some bonus credits?"

"That's alright. More importantly..."

"Hey, why do you get to say no? I want the credits!"

Brushing his friend aside, Wylde replied in a deadpan voice:

"Is Luca really going to be alright?"

"Yes. No matter what, he's being protected by one of only three tier 10 mages on the continent, so there should be nothing to worry about."

Kryphi smiled brightly as he said this.

In truth, Kryphi had wanted to go with Luca, but circumstances forced him to remain.

Tss tss tss—

"Hooh?"

Just then, the moon illuminating the night sky slowly turned dark. Kryphi glanced towards the athletic field.

"This might require some backup."

"We'll join in."

Kryphi and Wylde immediately made their way to the field. What they found there—

"Haaa... The headmaster is going to flip again when he sees this."

It looked as if a meteor had struck: a massive crater had formed in the field.

In its center, Mahtra lay collapsed, impaled by a sword. And looming coldly over him was Isella.

"Kha... You really are... strong..."

Coughing up blood, Mahtra let out a bitter smile. Isella looked at him impassively.

"What was the third prince thinking, sending you here?"

At her words, Mahtra looked at her with clouded eyes.

"Haha... Even if you find out... nothing'll change..."

Isella gazed at him for a moment, then took hold of her sword hilt.

"You're right. Nothing will change."

"... I'll tell you just one thing."

As the blade took on a silvery glow, Mahtra closed his eyes, sensing his end.

"He's getting anxious."

"Is that so."

Isella replied with indifference, twisting the sword.

Thump!

With a massive shockwave, the moonlight exploded, and Mahtra vanished, leaving not even a corpse behind.

Isella sighed and spoke softly.

"It's over, young lady."

Shoom!

Suddenly, Isella disappeared and reappeared inside the special holding room.

As she appeared, Ottbo jumped away from Milia in surprise. Isella glanced briefly at Ottbo before addressing Milia.

"According to 'Darkness', the third prince is nervous."

"I heard. The third prince is getting anxious, huh."

Milia stroked her chin, thinking about something, then laughed softly.

"Looks like Luca really did a number on Demonz—that must've been a big blow."

"What do you mean...?"

"Even when they tried to kill me, they borrowed Demonz's power. Who knows what they've been up to, but if the cult is moving openly like this to use the power, it means they were really confident. And I bet even within the third prince's faction, Demonz's power played a big role."

A flash of excitement lit up Milia's eyes.

"The third prince wanted to use Demonz's power to become emperor, but now that power's been weakened, he's getting desperate. That's why he's tossed up this crazy scheme to steal the divine relic at the academy."

The existence of a divine relic was tied closely to imperial authority.

Even someone like Milia, who had nothing else, held considerable value just for owning one—namely, the Dimension Core.

That meant the third prince, who had no divine relic, must have really coveted the one kept at the academy.

"How amusing. Luca's probably out there right now hurting Demonz and the third prince's faction. I wonder what happens next?"

Seeing Milia so animated, Isella gave a faint smile.

"I see. That's a good thing."

"Ah~ So does that mean there aren't any more threats? Can I go back and sleep now?"

"Haaam..."

With that, Ottbo next to them unwittingly let out a yawn. Milia saw this and laughed softly.

"Guess you really are tired?"

"A-ah... It's just..."

"Then since it's all over, I'll just stash this so-called Sun Stone inside the Dimension Core and let's go sleep."

Milia said this as she put the Sun Stone into the Dimension Core. Ottbo spoke up hastily.

"Ah, no, it's fine—"

― Perfect Control

Shoom!

In an instant, Milia sent Ottbo away.

Milia's "Big Brother"—once called the surveillance device—had been upgraded based on Luca's advice.

Powered by the Dimension Core, it had evolved into Perfect Control, allowing her to freely move anyone within its range.

"Are you sure about that? Ottbo seemed to want to stay with you a little longer, young lady."

Isella spoke teasingly. Milia retorted gruffly.

"A little longing just means he'll want to see me again—call it push and pull."

"... Is that so?"

Isella chuckled. Milia's ears reddened slightly as she said it.