Damn Academy - Chapter 28

[Chapter 28] The Masters Class (5)

“Don’t resort to cheap tricks.”

Those were the words Flynn heard at about the age of 12, after defeating an older senior in a practice duel.

It wasn’t that he had used any forbidden moves or broken any rules.

Simply put, he could see the trajectory of the swords and fully anticipate his opponent’s intents. Once he saw a method to victory, he simply executed it.

This was all too natural for him, something he presumed was visible to everyone. However, it turned out to be a gift uniquely his own.

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People eventually began referring to him as a ‘genius.’

Born into a distinguished lineage of swordsmanship, he was honed by the finest instructors.

Defeat was a rare experience for him, and the accolades of genius ingrained in his ears had become tedious.

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Even at the academy where prodigies were revered from all regions, Flynn held a position at the apex of the pyramid.

There were superiors above him, yet Flynn considered any gaps approachable, something he could definitely overcome.

‘I can ascend to the highest echelon with my sword.’

But as the flagpole snapped, Flynn’s faith shattered along with it.

All the renown, the prestige of his renowned swordsmanship house, and the name of Eternia Academy seemed utterly futile.

Only then did he give the Dwarf-forged sword a closer inspection.

The blade, where it had collided with the strange sword, had been gouged out halfway, damaging the runes etched into it.

What would Nash, his trusty friend, think if he saw this?

If he knew a freshman next year had caused this damage, he’d likely rib Flynn about taking the wrong potion.

Though, Nash wouldn’t even hear of this incident since Flynn was sworn to secrecy.

Gael approached Flynn, offering a hand.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Flynn exhaled a heavy sigh.

“Master, I’ll undertake any other task… But I prefer not to do this again.”

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Flynn was visibly shaken.

Gael, too, seemed to bear a knotted look of inner turmoil upon her face.

After quietly observing Flynn’s expression, she eventually unfolded her bundle of emotions and spoke.

“…Don’t worry. No one like him will come along for at least several decades.”

Gael was acknowledging that Damian was indeed a peculiar existence.

Flynn grasped her hand and got to his feet.

“Your sword, Erzebet will see to it later. Our duty is now complete, we should wrap up the remaining academic schedule.”

“Can’t I take a short rest beforehand?”

“Sadly, that’s not an option.”

Due to his uncompromising master, Flynn could not even afford to rest.

Flynn turned to glance quietly at Damian.

There were many questions he wanted to ask once Damian awakened, though it seemed such interactions were not yet permissible.

Sooner or later, Damian would inevitably cross paths with Flynn and Gael again.

The entrance examinations were merely a month away.

Excluding travel time to the academy, less than two weeks remained.

***

The examiners and Erzebet walked slowly to where Damian lay. Silveryn followed suit beside them.

They hardly spoke amongst themselves.

A female examiner checked Damian’s condition.

“He’s got some internal bleeding.”

She recited a spell under her breath. Soon, a bluish light began to emanate from her hands and delicately entered into Damian’s body.

Rising to her feet, she turned to Silveryn and said,

“I’ve put him into a deep sleep for about a night. When he wakes, he should be completely healed.”

“Thank you.”

As if anticipating this, another examiner pulled out a rolled-up parchment from the folds of her robe.
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Unfurling the scroll, she released her hold and the parchment hovered stiffly in midair.

The unpacking examiner proceeded to stamp her name inscribed on it.

The levitating parchment then made its way to the next examiner.

This individual used long, thin nails to sign their name.

There, a small flame singed a mark, leaving a blackened signature.

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The parchment continued, passing from one official to the next until it finally reached Erzebet’s hands.

Erzebet touched the line marked for Gael’s name, her fingertip tracing over the space.

Where her touch passed, the space became a signature line marked for Erzebet.

And with that, she completed her own signature.

The signing complete, the parchment rolled up again. Moments later, a stitch swooped down from somewhere, snatched the parchment, and soared high out of sight.

***

Silveryn sat perched on the bed.

Damian lay beside her, fast asleep, oblivious to the world.

She watched him quietly as she smoothed his tousled hair.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you take care of someone like that,” a voice remarked.

Silveryn shifted her gaze toward the source of the voice.

There was Erzebet, standing on the balcony, her back against the sunlight, looking towards Silveryn.

“I said I would take responsibility,” Silveryn replied.

The Silveryn Erzebet knew was not someone who normally took responsibility for others.

“Apart from his abilities, is there another reason you chose Damian?” Erzebet inquired.

Silveryn responded with a moment of silence. Instead of answering, she changed the conversation.

“Why didn’t you follow Gael back to the academy?”

It was a question from Erzebet to which Silveryn didn’t feel the need to answer.

Erzebet, not pressing Silveryn further, remarked,

“I’ll be heading to the capital.”

“The capital?”

“Yes. The Saintess doesn’t have much time left.”

The fact that Saintess Florence had limited time remaining was a closely guarded secret.

“She has lived quite a long life; it’s to be expected,” Erzebet added.

“But you must feel it too— the holy power that guards the land is also losing its strength.”

“And the next candidate?”

The next Saintess, Azelis, was also a participant in this Masters Class. She still needed time to prepare.

Erzebet shook her head.

“She’s too young; her holy power is yet undeveloped.”

Until the candidate was fully ready, there would be a void in holy power.

And in that void, others looking to increase their power would emerge.

“That explains why there have been more ghouls lately. I suspected as much…”

Erzebet nodded in agreement.

“The real action is about to begin. I don’t know exactly when, but it won’t be long. And when the time comes, we’ll need your power.”

Silveryn was to venture to the North again.

“…”

Silveryn sank into a moment of contemplative silence.

She turned to look at Damian again. As she gazed at him, any hardness in Silveryn’s expression softened. She placed her hand lightly on his cheek, caressing it gently.

“When the time comes, I’ll entrust Damian to you.”

Erzebet nodded quietly in acknowledgment.

***

When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed.

I had no idea how long I had been asleep. Given the toll the ordeal must have taken on my body, I was surprisingly light on my feet.

Before I could fully assess my condition, I was taken aback by a completely unexpected sight.

Erzebet was sitting quietly on a chair to the right of my bed, utterly engrossed in her reading.

Why is she here of all places?

I froze as if a wasp had landed on my head.

It was like I’d been struck by lightning out of the blue.

Erzebet looked up from her book and said,

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“Ah, you’ve woken up.”

As I hesitated in tension for a moment, she continued,

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“I witnessed your performance.”
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“Thank you… and I apologize for destroying the Plantara that had been created.”

She shook her head.

“No need to worry about that. I’ve brought them here to be destroyed anyway. The only one I made is just a single one.”

Having some experience with carving myself, I understood well. But by the looks of it, it would take weeks to create just one.

Honestly, while destroying them, I felt more regret than pleasure.

“So the ones I destroyed were made by someone else…”

“No, they were made by the other Plantara.”

“…?”

For a moment, my brain stalled.

So, what she’s saying is, the Plantara created other Plantara? And she only made one?

Erzebet was looking at me with a hint of a smile.

What are these magicians up to?

I’m starting to understand why Silveryn insisted I must get acquainted with a magician.

“First things first, I must tell you. You’ve passed the Masters Class examination.”

“…!”

“In Eternia’s history, over the past hundred years, only fifty-two people have entered the Masters Class. It’s that much of an honor. That’s also the reason I’ve waited to tell you myself until you woke up.”

“It’s an honor to hear it from you directly.”

Talking like this, as if I was entertaining Eternia’s headmaster at a sickbed visit, gave me an odd sense of feeling.

“That was a peculiar sword you used. It seems best to keep your power hidden for a while.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“The owner of a magic sword is always in flux, and it only truly ends when one at the very end of the food chain holds it. Remember this always.”

Does it mean my sword is to be sealed for a while again?

“Then… does this mean I shouldn’t use a sword at the academy either?”

Erzebet shook her head.

“If it’s for your growth, you’ll need to make active use of your sword in the academy. However, there is a condition.”

She pulled out a thick encyclopedic-size wooden box from under the bed and handed it to me.

“This is a gift given to those who enter the Masters Class.”

I took it and opened the box.

Inside was a wooden mask.

“…?”

Turning it over to examine the inside that would touch the face, I found a unique magic circle inscribed there.

“This will conceal your identity. Wearing this mask when you use your sword is the condition.”

“Did everyone who entered the Masters Class receive this mask?”

She shook her head.

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“We provide a disguise artifact, one that suits and can be well-utilized by that person.”

So, a mask fits best for concealing my identity.
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I placed the mask lightly against my face.

Soon after, my hair began to tint with a deep reddish-black.

This was the first artifact I’d ever used in my life.

Not bad at all.

Even before the entrance ceremony, I had received my first assignment from Eternia.

That was to lead a double life wearing a mask.