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Chapter 10
Professor Foeyang, who was in charge of sparring classes, struck his desk hard.
Bang-!
The nameplate on the desk rattled noisily.
“……Are you telling me to manipulate the tournament bracket right now!?”
Sparring matches were one of the biggest evaluations within the academy.
The enemies you meet in society are unpredictable.
You might encounter enemies far superior to yourself, or you might meet opponents weaker than you.
Sparring matches were precious time to practice responding in such situations.
Therefore, the fairness of the tournament bracket was more important than anything and had been handled strictly.
But the boy in front of him was trying to fade all such tradition and meaning.
George Pendragon.
The heir of the prestigious Pendragon family that had produced excellent swordsmen every generation.
He was said to be a model student receiving the school’s expectations and a famous student across all grades.
“……For someone who’s a professor, you’re slow to understand.”
He stood before Professor Foeyang with a completely different demeanor from his usual humble attitude.
George placed his finger on the desk where Professor Foeyang was sitting.
“How many times do I have to tell you? In this sparring match, you match me with first-year Silver Owl Class Lolol Saint Pierre. Is this difficult? Should I speak a bit more slowly so it’s easier to understand?”
Professor Foeyang felt dizzy at such a brazen attitude.
“……Do you think what you’re doing is fair?”
However, George snickered and shrugged his shoulders.
“I think it’s more unfair for a mere ‘commoner-born’ professor to arbitrarily decide my tournament bracket.”
“What did you say!?”
George gestured for Professor Foeyang, who was about to stand up, to calm down.
“Why are you getting so angry? Just close your eyes tight and write George Pendragon versus Lolol Saint Pierre. That’s all you have to do. You must have done all sorts of dirty things to become a professor despite being a commoner. This isn’t even some great injustice, is it? Right?”
Foeyang Drew.
A dragon rising from a stream.
He was the only commoner-born professor at Lykeion Academy who had climbed to this position with skill alone.
However.
“Or should I get you fired from your professorship right now? Do you think the Pendragon family can’t do that much, considering how much we donate to this school annually?”
“……”
The power of a prestigious family that had continued since before the blank period was too much for a commoner professor with no backing to handle.
George patted Professor Foeyang’s shoulder.
“Our professor should prepare for retirement. You have to think about your family too. Oh, right! Your in-laws probably lived in our Pendragon territory, didn’t they? Hm?”
Professor Foeyang couldn’t control his trembling body.
The integrity he had maintained his entire life stood on edge like a blade.
He bit his lower lip until it bled, but his anger had nowhere to go.
“……”
Because he could see all too clearly the nightmarish reality that would unfold if he refused this proposal.
George’s steps walking through the dormitory corridor looked frivolous beyond being light.
‘Anyway, that old bastard. If he was going to comply anyway, why did he have to be stubborn? Such a waste of time.’
Though he grumbled inwardly, George’s face was full of smiles.
He was on his way back after confirming that Professor Foeyang had rewritten the tournament bracket and sent it to the headmaster.
‘Acting all high and mighty just because he’s a professor. For a lowly commoner-born subject.’
Humans have their nobility determined from the moment they’re born.
No matter how much commoners struggle, they’re nothing but insects before the power of the great Pendragon family.
That’s why George had thought life was really easy since childhood.
Just having the Pendragon name meant bread and wine would appear even if you stayed still.
To be born above and die above is what makes a noble.
The power that the concept of status brings is absolute and simultaneously inviolable.
……But sometimes there are guys who break the rules of this world.
‘Black Fangs, those useless bastards.’
Black Fangs.
The one who actually created that delinquent circle was George himself.
A method to torment and drive out guys he didn’t like without dirtying his own hands.
That was using family money to control people.
Stupid guys from mediocre families could be handled easily with just money.
Except for one person.
‘……Hermione.’
George licked his lips while recalling Hermione’s graceful face.
An arrogant bitch who, despite being commoner-born, tried to stand above family heirs.
There had been plenty of commoners who acted all smart and then fell away, but Hermione was somehow special.
“……Such girls need proper education to maintain dignity as a noble.”
George twisted his lips crookedly once more.
‘Hermione. After making you mine, I’ll play with you until I’m sick of you, then throw you away like trash.’
This sparring match was preparation for that.
By the way.
‘……Lolol Saint Pierre, that guy. How should I humiliate him?’
If he thoroughly trampled Pierre, whom Hermione had been hanging around with lately, Hermione would also be quite shocked.
There was even a possibility she might take a more obedient attitude to protect that guy.
“Well, I’ll have to gift him some permanent disabilities.”
George smiled gloomily.
Lolol Saint Pierre.
His personality and skills were so pathetic that you couldn’t believe he was from a prestigious family – literally the shame of nobility.
George couldn’t accept the very fact that such a guy existed in this world.
Killing him would be problematic, but making him a cripple could be covered up somehow.
George opened his dormitory door while imagining Pierre crying while lying naked on the floor.
Creak-!
The dormitory door opening so elegantly and smoothly, like his own life.
But beyond it…….
“……?”
He saw an unfamiliar shadow.
Lolol Saint Pierre.
Why was that arrogant underclassman, who was already dead in George’s imagination, here?
For a moment, George wondered if he had come to the wrong dormitory and checked the room’s nameplate again.
Then.
“……You’re late.”
Pierre, who was sitting on the window sill, said quietly.
George hid his surprised face and acted relaxed.
“Haha, my. I never expected a guest to visit. You’re definitely Lolol Saint Pierre, right? I’ve heard about you several times from Miss Hermione.”
It was a very dignified response befitting a noble.
But Robespierre just spat out what he had to say.
“So you’re the head.”
“……?”
“That milky-named circle. Was it Mud’s Canine Tooth?”
George unconsciously frowned.
Until now, no one had figured out that he and Black Fangs were connected.
Even Black Fang members, except for high-ranking ones, barely knew this fact.
George suppressed his trembling heart and put on a deliberately relaxed expression.
“……Are you talking with evidence? Carelessly putting such false accusations on the heir of the Pendragon family? Don’t you know this situation could escalate into a diplomatic problem between families?”
Pierre was a guy treated as a burden even by his own family.
For such a guy, causing harm to the family would be more terrifying than death.
But Robespierre waved the bundle of papers in his hand as if uninterested.
“These came from your room. They were instruction letters detailing who to bully and how for the Black Fang guys.”
“……Huh? I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s mine?”
George said this while slowly moving toward the wall next to the door.
Only one thought was circling in George’s head right now.
‘Shut that bastard’s mouth.’
He had planned to inflict some permanent disability in the sparring match…… but it hadn’t been to the extent of cutting his tongue or making his brain into an idiot.
……But now he had no choice but to do that.
He couldn’t let dirt get on the Pendragon family’s reputation.
Eventually, George grabbed the handle of a sword hanging on the wall.
Thud-!
Simultaneously, a plan for the future was quickly completed in his mind.
‘A thief attacked in the dark room, so I reflexively drew my sword, and when I turned him into a rag, it turned out to be Pierre. That conclusion should work.’
This would be the cleanest way to handle the current situation.
Conveniently, that stupid guy had come to his room on his own.
After making him half-crippled and then framing him for trying to steal family treasures, he could somehow gloss over it with family power.
He’d handle it quickly before any witnesses appeared.
George quickly drew his sword.
Shing-.
With a sharp sound, the pure white blade revealed itself.
It was the famous sword Winterrun, given only to the legitimate heir of the Pendragon family.
Eventually.
“……The only one you should hate is yourself for your recklessness!”
George charged while spouting what he thought was a cool line.
Swoosh-.
Pendragon family swordsmanship unfolded.
Orthodox swordsmanship evaluated as the most elegant and cleanest on the entire continent.
The famous sword Winterrun extended while drawing a cold, white trajectory.
At that moment.
Clang-!
With a sharp sound, George’s blade stopped.
‘……Blocked?’
George doubted his own eyes.
Because the Pendragon family’s swordsmanship and the famous sword Winterrun had been blocked too easily.
And by a cheap dagger that might be sold at street stalls.
Before George could even be shocked.
“……Ah, right. I remembered.”
Robespierre opened his mouth.
“The pale, sickly guys I caught and killed all in the past had the surname Pendragon.”
“Wha-what? What are you……?”
It was completely incomprehensible.
But an even more unbelievable situation unfolded before his eyes.
“Hmm, how did those things do it back then?”
Robespierre lightly swung the short dagger.
“……Was it like this?”
Then the beautiful and elegant trajectory characteristic of Pendragon swordsmanship was perfectly reproduced from Robespierre’s fingertips.
……No, sword strikes even smoother and more powerful than the original.
It was the secret technique of Pendragon swordsmanship that even George, the legitimate heir of the Pendragon family, was seeing for the first time.
