Academy’s Genius Swordmaster

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 251: Clash (4)

“I am Archbishop Alon Mondre. Your reckless defiance ends here.”

The elderly man, who introduced himself as Archbishop Alon Mondre, stepped forward. His dark blue beard and hair flowed as if drawn from the depths of the ocean. His piercing, cold eyes showed no sign of softening despite the passage of time.

Standing tall and staring at the two men, Alon radiated an innate nobility. His neatly trimmed eyebrows and overall demeanor gave him a resemblance to Shullifen.

Ronan, examining him from head to toe, finally spoke.

“…You seem quite strong.”

“I don’t think I’m weak, even by my own standards.”

Alon replied, glancing at Shullifen briefly. With a sigh, he continued.

“Especially compared to the younger generation these days.”

“Wait a minute. You’re…”

Shullifen’s eyes widened suddenly. His usually composed eyes were now wide open. The cultists gathered at the edge of the tower began to stir.

“Archbishop! There’s no need for you to intervene. We can handle this…”

“Is it because I didn’t need to intervene that things have reached this point?”

Alon gestured to the surrounding corpses. The man who had spoken fell silent.

It was too late for maintaining appearances. The contrast between the white robes and the red blood was stark. Alon clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“You’re just in the way. Get down from here. Today is just the day to welcome the First Star; there’s still time before the important day.”

“Yes, yes! Understood!”

The cultists at the edge of the tower began to flee one by one. They looked like rats escaping a sinking ship. Ronan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Who said you could leave?”

He was beginning to feel like they were treating him like a park bench. Gripping his sword, Ronan swung a wide slash. Swoosh! The crescent-shaped sword energy split into hundreds of projectiles.

“Gah!”

Each projectile was deadly. One of the cultists raised his hand. The Protection of the Stars, shimmering strangely, formed a barrier.

However, Ronan’s sword energy tore through the barrier. The cultists, facing imminent death, screamed their last words. In that instant, Alon’s figure disappeared and reappeared between the two men and the cultists.

“What the…”

Ronan’s eyes widened. Alon held two blue swords, one in each hand. As Alon’s arms blurred, a sound like crashing waves filled the air. Slash! The sword energy aimed at the cultists exploded mid-air.

“You can’t just kill my subordinates at will.”

“Damn it.”

Ronan, briefly stunned, swore. This time he saw it clearly. The old man didn’t use any trick to take Shullifen’s sword.

Alon’s speed was beyond perception, allowing him to intercept and slice through Ronan’s sword energy. His rapid intrusion wasn’t unnoticed; he was simply outrageously fast.

‘That sword technique… Where have I seen it?’

One strange thing was the familiarity Ronan felt with Alon’s technique. Where had he seen it before? As Ronan pondered, Alon continued speaking.

“You really do ignore the Protection of the Stars. It’s hard to believe even while witnessing it.”

“…Who are you, really?”

Ronan asked. No matter how strong an archbishop, this was too much. Was he also a dragon? Alon ignored Ronan’s question and continued to speak on his own.

“But I’m grateful for your existence. It’s a wake-up call for the followers who grew complacent, relying too much on the powers granted by the Great Star. Though it might be a little late.”

“I asked, who are you?”

“What should I say… The blessings and powers of the stars are like luxury items. They make things easier without dealing with the hassle. It’s rare to find something as irritating as a paper cut while handling documents.”

“A paper cut?”

“Yes. It’s just as stiff and bothersome as actual paper. Uselessly tough, annoying to handle, and if you’re not careful, it can cut you.”

A vein throbbed on Ronan’s forehead. This man, who dodged Ronan’s question and spouted nonsense, definitely deserved to die.

Ronan gripped his sword. Boom! Suddenly, Alon’s figure distorted. Ronan, sensing danger, raised his sword.

“Damn it, he’s coming!”

Alon’s movement was silent, like a ghostly wind. As Ronan and Shullifen prepared for defense, they collided. Clang! The sharp sound of metal echoed at the top of the tower.

“Ugh!”

“Well, you’re not completely useless.”

Ronan gritted his teeth. Alon raised his eyebrows in amusement. Four blades clashed mid-air, sparking fiercely. Alon skillfully handled both swords, taking on Ronan and Shullifen simultaneously. Arrogance radiated from his every move.

“You old bastard, I’ll use your beard to wipe my ass!”

Ronan yelled. His blade turned red. Shullifen’s sword turned into a form of wind.

Their intensified assault poured towards Alon. Clang! The sounds of swords clashing and wind slicing the air echoed sporadically.

“Sharp and fierce, indeed.”

The two men’s coordinated attacks left little room for error. But Alon slipped through their strikes like a mosquito through a door crack. Ronan’s horizontal slash grazed his forehead, and Shullifen’s wind blade nicked his cheek, yet Alon remained composed.

[Translator – Peptobismol]

It felt like fighting a giant mantis. Alon’s swords moved with a fluidity that made them seem like extensions of his body.

After hundreds of exchanged blows, the three men retreated momentarily. A few drops of blood hit the ground, but they all belonged to Ronan and Shullifen. Alon, alternating his gaze between them, spoke again.

“But you’re still too young.”

“Damn it.”

Not a drop of sweat marked his face. Spitting out blood-tinged saliva, Ronan readjusted his stance. Alon’s skill wasn’t just in his swordsmanship; he hadn’t used the Protection of the Stars or any other powers yet, showcasing his monstrous abilities.

‘He’s different from Zaifa. A speed-focused type.’

An intense silence followed. Shullifen, who had been quiet until now, spoke up.

“Ronan. Stay out of this fight.”

“What?”

“This is a grudge I need to settle by myself.”

Ronan had no idea what was happening. Suddenly, Shullifen stepped forward, staring at Alon with a mixture of interest and disdain. Shullifen raised his sword and pointed it at Alon.

“I thought you were dead.”

“You’re quick to catch on, unworthy descendant.”

“Descendant?”

Ronan frowned. What was he talking about? Shullifen answered without turning his head.

“Yes. His former name was Alon Sinivan de Garcia. He was erased from our family for siding with demons, a man who forsook honor.”

Ronan’s eyebrows shot up. He had heard that name several times during his time at the Academy. Alon was a member of the Garcia family, and until Shullifen was born, he was considered the greatest genius of the family.

Moreover, he was one of the five most infamous traitors in the world.

‘So, it wasn’t just someone with the same name?’

Ronan felt a chill run down his spine. The similarities in appearance and swordsmanship between Alon and Shullifen were not a coincidence.

Although he couldn’t remember all the details, he knew that Alon was the direct cause of the enmity between the two great houses of the Empire, Acalusia and Garcia. The story went that Alon had invited dignitaries from the other side to a banquet and attempted to kill them all.

Whenever Elizabeth told that story, she would clench her fists and shake with rage. Alon spoke.

“Don’t be too harsh. As you age and grow older, you will come to think like me. My sin was merely striving to realize a vague desire.”

“Desire?”

“Yes. To become stronger than anyone else. Isn’t that the dream of every warrior in Garcia who stands upon their sword?”

Alon spoke calmly. If one didn’t know his sordid past, his words might even sound plausible. Shullifen twisted his lips.

“And so, you stabbed a sword into the back of Acalusia, who were like brothers to you?”

“That was the price of the power granted to me. And…”

Suddenly, Alon’s figure vanished from sight. Shullifen’s eyes widened. Enhancing his visual acuity, he saw Alon, now right in front of him, thrusting his sword towards him.

He could see it, but that was all. In the slow motion induced by his heightened concentration, he stretched out his sword, but he couldn’t match Alon’s speed.

“This is quite a bargain, isn’t it?”

“Ugh…!”

“How pathetic that this is the future of Garcia. Farewell.”

Alon finished speaking. Shullifen twisted his lips. Just as the blue sword was about to pierce his abdomen, a crimson light resembling a sunset suddenly flashed behind him, pulling Alon backward.

“What…”

“You didn’t see that coming, old man.”

Alon turned his head at the voice in his ear. Ronan, who had been standing more than ten paces away, was now right in front of him.

Alon’s eyes widened. Though he didn’t understand what had happened, there was no time to figure it out.

Both Alon and Ronan swung their swords simultaneously. Shlick! The sound of rending flesh echoed as Lamancha drew a red line across Alon’s chest.

“Gah!”

Alon gasped. Blood spurted onto the ground as Ronan found an opening and pressed his attack. However, Alon hastily retreated, avoiding a fatal blow.

Though he managed to evade a killing strike, he still sustained considerable damage.

“How does it feel to be cut by paper, huh?”

“You…”

Ronan smirked as he met Alon’s gaze. Clippings of Alon’s beard floated down like fallen leaves.

Blood gushed from the wound on his chest. Alon’s perpetually composed face was now twisted like that of a demon.

Holding back his aura to surprise Alon had been a good decision. Wiping the blood from his mouth, Alon nodded.

“Indeed… I must admit my mistake.”

“No more posturing. You’re finished.”

Ronan spun his sword in a circle. For swordsmen of their caliber, a battle could be decided in an instant.

And this was such a moment. Ronan knew from the feeling transmitted through his sword that Lamancha had cut through Alon’s internal organs and several bones, and in very critical areas.

He felt a stinging gaze pricking his cheek. Ronan spoke.

“Don’t look at me like that, man. He’s not someone you can beat alone.”

“…Hmph.”

Shullifen readied his stance without a word. Without Ronan’s intervention, he would have ended up in pieces on the pile of cultist corpses.

They advanced slowly but steadily towards Alon, their guard up.

“Offer your neck quietly. You’ve lived long enough, haven’t you?”

“…This is troublesome.”

Alon muttered. He knew he couldn’t handle both Ronan and Shullifen in his current condition.

The roars and flashes from the dragons continued to shake the night sky. The tension reached its peak.

“I didn’t want to use this…”

Alon licked his lips. Shullifen lunged forward, swinging his sword. The razor-sharp wind blade shot towards Alon.

To Ronan, it seemed like a perfect strike. But Shullifen’s attack didn’t reach Alon. Clang! A familiar sound of collision rang out.

“That’s…!”

Both Ronan’s and Shullifen’s eyes widened. A strange shimmering barrier enveloped Alon. It was the Protection of the Stars, incredibly dense.

Alon spoke.

“I need to deal with this disrespectful descendant of mine first.”

“What?”

Bang! With a sudden burst of speed, Alon vanished from sight. Ronan quickly moved to intercept, but the archbishop wasn’t targeting him. Alon, surrounded by the Protection of the Stars, struck Shullifen with tremendous force.

[Translator – Peptobismol]