Top Instructor of a Third-Rate Academy

187

The two of us — myself and Crownhardt — moved to the training ground.

"To think we would discuss my retainers' asylum at a training ground. This is essentially a dueling court."

Crownhardt looked at me as if asking whether I agreed.

Somehow feeling apologetic, I bowed my head.

"I apologize for having to receive you this way due to the circumstances."

"Never mind. Let us talk quickly. As of this moment, 32,000 personnel under Duke Crownhardt's command are requesting asylum in Akarind Academy under the Belmein Kingdom."

"It is difficult for me to give a definitive answer on whether I can grant or deny permission alone. Instead, I will convey the matter to the leadership of Akarind Academy so that a positive decision can be made."

"Thank you."

Both the Duke and I knew.

Though I called it "conveying opinions," Charlotte, Gwen, and Lord Murray would follow my wishes.

"From knights to soldiers — I heard you brought a variety of personnel."

"Three hundred seventy-four knights. Five thousand two hundred ten soldiers. And twenty-seven thousand retainers under my command."

The retainers of the Crownhardt Duchy were not ordinary retainers.

Most were family members of knights and soldiers, people who had adapted to the battlefield over a long time.

Many were retired veterans and former mercenaries, and many worked in the military supply industry.

"What is the breakdown of artisans?"

"Twelve people who dismantle and sell monster byproducts. Seventeen blacksmiths. Twenty artisans who can tan and process leather. Beyond that, about fifty people who make daily necessities or manage food production."

This was the most welcome part.

Akarind territory had sustained its livelihoods through the students of Akarind Academy — a very small market scale.

As a result, with the market now expanded, most of Akarind Academy's essential goods could only be obtained through Abrahal.

The tuition and donations coming into the school were considerable, but running the school on that alone would struggle to avoid deficits.

The retainers of Duke Crownhardt's house seemed to resolve precisely that pain point.

"That is truly excellent. They will be provided with appropriate workshops and fair compensation."

"Fair compensation in return for labor. They will be very pleased."

Duke Crownhardt also nodded, looking gratified.

Then again, they had been the people supplying goods at the frontlines fighting savages.

They had likely made their goods not for fair compensation, but praying for the safety of their sons and daughters on the battlefield.

"Do you happen to have master-level talents who could train disciples?"

"There are about two in each field."

"We can open lectures for students at Akarind Academy."

"Most of the students here came to learn the sword."

"Learning how a sword is made is an important experience for those who wield one."

"I will arrange a venue."

That was not limited to students only.

I too was someone who wielded a sword, but I did not truly know the sword.

If I could secure knowledge through this opportunity, I might be able to explore new territory.

Such as right now — controlling my body.

"Did you recently attain an enlightenment?"

The Duke asked as he looked me up and down.

"The state you showed earlier in my office. It looked as though you could not properly control the power."

"You noticed?"

"Noticed — I see. So you have no such experience."

The Duke spoke as though he had plenty of such experience.

Many such experiences? Surely at the border they faced more demons than we had thought?

Or did they know a method of absorbing demon power over there?

As those thoughts filled my head.

"It is a phenomenon the knights who have learned your Aura often display."

......Am I the demon?

Blinking, I looked at him.

"Rather surprising. I thought you would naturally have plenty of such experience. Your Academy's students are using Aura more than anyone else, are they not?"

"None of them have ever shown a state like mine."

"That is even more surprising to me."

Saying so, the Duke deliberately turned his back on me and took a sword stance behind.

Sword Intent rose in his heart, and with a low hum, his sword vibrated.

A deep orange Aura rippled along the blade.

"Watch carefully."

Akarind pursues a stable Aura.

Like clothes perfectly tailored to one's body — manifesting an Aura that precisely fits one's Sword Intent.

Aura manifested that way takes the form of a sheath that stably wraps around the sword.

Duke Crownhardt's Aura, unlike Akarind Academy's, was like flames clinging to his blade.

Come to think of it, most of the Aura I had seen from swordsmen outside Akarind Academy had felt like that.

An Aura that felt unstable, as though it might disperse at any moment, yet carried a primal force.

"It is different."

"Mine is fairly stabilized. Ahem."

The moment his gaze turned toward me, there was a sharp clang and a bursting sound.

My energy, responding to his Sword Intent, had run wild again.

It had discharged Aura from a distance, and Duke Crownhardt had moved his sword to defend against it.

The distance between us was about five meters.

"To be able to discharge Aura even at this distance — this is truly absurd."

"I have no excuse."

"No. Anyway — mine is fairly stable. Among my subordinate knights, there were many who, like you, could not get a handle on how to emit Aura at all."

Spewing Aura in all directions like me, or having Aura suddenly erupt from various parts of their bodies, he said.

"Do you currently have any knights displaying such symptoms?"

At my words, the Duke laughed.

"It would be better to ask how many have escaped such symptoms."

"Then please call over just one — the knight with the most severe symptoms."

***

Chamson was having another worst day of his life.

"Hey! I told you to be careful!"

"My apologies!"

"Do not let the energy push you around — think about how you can suppress the energy!"

"Yes, understood!"

One week ago from now.

During the defection to the Belmein Kingdom, in the process of facing off against enemies they had met along the way, he had acquired Aura.

The moment he saw the otherworldly energy rippling along his blade, Chamson had wanted to dance on the spot.

What was Aura?

Was it not the miracle that, in this era, elevated swordsmen to the status of mages?

With Aura alone, he could face off against large-scale monsters, cut down magic, and demonstrate a monstrous gap in ability compared to ordinary knights.

Far off in other kingdoms, there were places that would confer noble titles upon knights who used Aura.

In this era when demons were overflowing, a well-trained Aura knight was even more valuable than a mage.

Yes.

A well-trained knight.

"Gwahhh!"

"Forward roll! Backward roll! Your body is too relaxed, so the Aura is running wild! Relax the body! Push your muscles to the limit, and you will be able to control the Aura! Understood!"

"Yes, understood!"

From the moment he awakened Aura, Chamson had pushed his body to its limits without a single day of rest.

If he did not, his Aura would run wild, destroying the objects around him and harming his fellow knights.

He could not voice discontent about this crude style of training.

Because every knight around him had come to control their Aura through this kind of training.

He too would come to handle his Aura freely once he exhausted all the energy in his body through this merciless training.

In another month or two.

If he devoted himself to training...... if he did......

"Chamson. The Duke is calling for you."

At Latrine's summons, Chamson sprang to his feet.

Latrine, who had come to fetch him, had a worse expression than usual.

What, has some problem befallen the Duke?

That could not be.

The Duke was a monster who had suppressed the Aura in his own body without even going through such training.

It was hard to imagine that kind of person having a problem.

"Why on earth would the Duke......"

Latrine kept muttering her dissatisfaction even while leading Chamson along.

But Chamson was a true knight of the military.

He completely shut out his superior's muttering and followed behind her.

"I have brought him."

"This way."

The place Chamson arrived at was the training ground.

There, the Duke was waiting with a sword in hand, alongside a man with a somewhat scholarly appearance whose features were rather indistinct.

'Huh?'

But separate from first impressions, his gaze kept returning to that person.

Not because he was handsome or somehow charming.

It was more like some dangerous, gloomy aura? No, maybe a more divine, sacred aura?

It would be more accurate to say that an indescribable energy wafted from him, which kept pulling his eyes back.

"Draw your sword and show your Aura."

Chamson suppressed his personal curiosity and quickly drew his blade.

Immediately, he summoned mana and focused his mind on the sword.

Perhaps because he had just been rolling around a moment ago, his concentration slid in quickly, and Aura began to fill the blade.

As if water were being poured into a cup, Aura began to ripple around the sword.

The man watching let out a look of surprise as he stared at him.

Chamson felt a swell of pride.

'Right. However badly handled, it is still Aura. For rural third-rate academy people like this, this is the kind of thing that would knock them flat......'

"So this is the method. How should I put it — rather crude, and rather savage......?"

'What on earth is that man saying right now?'

At this beautiful Aura, what was he——?

At the absurd verbal insult, anger surged up inside him.

And in that moment.

FWOOSH!

The Duke's sword rotated once, blocking his front.

It was a motion as though he were cutting down something in midair.

"Your Grace."

"It is fine. Continue."

Presumably Duke Crownhardt too was enraged by that scholar's outrageous assessment.

So he was probably making that power-demonstration.

Of course, this was a misunderstanding.

Chamson's upwelling emotion had stimulated Cassian's Aura once more, and Aura had been discharged simultaneously.

Duke Crownhardt had cut that Aura out of midair.

"My apologies."

Cassian kept staring fixedly at Chamson's Aura even as he apologized.

There was a reason he had judged that Aura crude and savage.

Because there was no Sword Intent in that Aura.

'It is an Aura manifested just by brute physical force.'

It was not Sword Intent — the mind to accomplish something with the sword.

If forced to name it, it was fighting spirit, or combat intent.

An Aura produced by the will to fight.

Which was why it scattered hostility and energy in all directions without any direction to go.

Not knowing what to do, the form of the Aura could only waver aimlessly.

'This is something......'

Cassian's mind tingled.

He felt he could not only resolve his own current state, but also develop entirely new ideas.

"Would you mind if I gave this man some advice?"

"By all means."

Curiosity entered Duke Crownhardt's eyes at Cassian's proposal.

Chamson's eyes, meanwhile, were full of disbelief.

'Some scholar wants to give me advice? If he tells me to do physical training, I will just half-ass it...... ah, the Duke is right here. Just pretend to work hard.'

As he was thinking that.

"Very well. Let us start with a question. What is your dream, Officer?"

At the question — one like those a morale officer might ask on the first day of enlistment — Chamson dumbly asked back.

"Pardon?"