News spread much faster than Margarita had expected.
Just after lunch the next day, three layers of people were already standing outside the fence surrounding the training field. Almost all the students from the Swordsmanship Department had arrived, and many from the Magic Department had come as well. A tidy square area had been cleared in the center of the sandy training field. Glion stood to one side, leaning on his wooden stick and shouting, “Stay away from this line! I’ll strike anyone who gets too close!”
By the time Margarita and Lovell arrived, there were no spots left in the front row. Lovell stood on her tiptoes, scanned the area, and pulled Margarita around to a dirt mound on the side of the training field. The view here was good, and it was far from the fence, making them less conspicuous.
But Margarita was already enough of a spectacle on her own.
She was still wearing her Magic Department uniform. A white high-collared shirt, a dark blue pleated skirt, and the long trench-style robe over it, with silver-gray piping shimmering slightly in the setting sun. The gun at her lower back was well-hidden by the coat. Lovell had tied her hair into a neat high ponytail with a satin ribbon. But with that face and that white hair, as soon as she stood on the mound, the surrounding murmurs grew noticeably louder.
“Who is that?”
“Judging by the uniform, they’re from the Magic Department, but I’ve never seen them before?”
“Since when did the Magic Department have someone so beautiful…”
“White hair… Are they from the North?”
“She’s far too pretty. Why haven't I seen her until now?”
…
Lovell grinned and leaned into Margarita’s ear. “Listen to that. Everyone’s asking about you.”
Margarita ignored her, her gaze fixed on the training field. Joshua was already standing in his designated position. He had changed into a clean set of gray practice clothes with the sleeves tightened, holding a wooden sword. Opposite him, Valen was warming up his wrists. He had stripped off his Advanced Class uniform jacket and tossed it to a companion, revealing a black training vest beneath; his muscle lines were distinct under the evening sun.
Glion raised his wooden stick. “Begin!”
The first round started.
Valen moved first. His footwork was extremely fast, his wooden sword whistling through the air as it slashed toward Joshua’s left shoulder. Joshua sidestepped to evade, thrusting his sword toward Valen’s waist in a counter-attack. Valen pulled his sword back to parry, and their blades collided with a dull thud. The spectating students let out a low gasp.
Margarita didn't understand swordsmanship, but she could understand Joshua’s movements. He was more than one level faster than he had been in Percy Village; the formal military training was indeed superior to self-taught methods. Joshua’s swordplay was very clean, each strike finding the gaps in Valen’s attacks. Valen was clearly stronger, but Joshua didn't meet him head-on, always using momentum to deflect Valen’s blade. Small pits were carved into the sand by Valen’s slashes.
After a dozen exchanges, Valen missed a slash, and Joshua’s wooden sword tapped against his chest.
“First round, Joshua,” Glion’s voice said flatly.
The spectating students erupted. Valen’s expression turned ugly. He jabbed his wooden sword into the ground and took a couple of breaths.
The second round began. Valen fought even more fiercely, opening with a flurry of consecutive slashes that sent sand and dust flying. Joshua was forced back a few steps, but his footwork never faltered. After clashing several times, he suddenly ducked low, sliding beneath Valen’s sword, and swept his own sword against the back of Valen’s knee. Valen dropped to one knee, and Joshua’s sword was already held at his throat.
“Second round, Joshua.”
The murmuring in the crowd grew even louder. Margarita saw the expressions of Valen’s Advanced Class companions shift from playful to solemn.
Before the third round started, Valen closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Margarita noticed the airflow around him had changed. The fine dust on the sand was pushed away by some invisible force, forming a ring of faint ripples at his feet.
Battle Qi.
Lovell hissed from the side. “So those in the Advanced Class really can all use that.”
Margarita remained silent. In the game, Battle Qi was the hallmark of an Advanced Swordsman—a power naturally produced within the body of a well-tempered warrior. Joshua shouldn't have mastered it at this stage. While Sword Saint’s Intuition could help him predict movements, when facing an opponent enhanced by Battle Qi, the gap in speed and power would be widened.
Resorting to dirty tricks when you can’t win—truly a classic plot trope.
Sure enough, Joshua was completely suppressed in the third round. Valen’s sword was more than twice as fast, each strike carrying a heavy sound of breaking wind. Joshua could only defend, his wooden sword beginning to crack under the impact, the muscles in his arms tensed to the limit. He held on for over twenty moves before his wooden sword was finally snapped by a horizontal sweep from Valen.
“Third round, Valen.”
Joshua took a new wooden sword and caught his breath.
In the fourth round, Joshua changed his approach. He no longer attempted to counter-attack, focusing all his energy on evasion. Valen was recklessly releasing Battle Qi, wanting to end the duel quickly, so Joshua stalled. He used his near-instinctive intuition to predict every one of Valen’s attacks, dodging with minimal movements. Their messy footprints were left all over the sand. Joshua’s breathing grew heavier, but Valen’s movements were also visibly slowing down.
In the end, Joshua still lost. Valen broke through his guard with a thrust, the wooden sword stopping right against his chest.
“Fourth round, Valen.”
Two to two. The onlookers went silent. Margarita’s hand unconsciously tightened around the booklet in her arms.
The fifth round. Valen’s Battle Qi was almost exhausted, and his sword speed was now roughly the same as the first round. Joshua, breathing heavily, tightened his grip on his wooden sword and suddenly lunged forward.
He had completely abandoned defense.
Valen hadn't expected this move and was forced back two steps by Joshua’s pressure. Joshua’s sword style suddenly became very strange; every strike came from an impossible angle. Valen could block the first strike but not the second; he parried the third and fourth, but the next one was already there. His footwork became messy, and in his constant retreat, he stepped into one of the pits he had smashed in the sand earlier, his foot sinking.
Joshua’s wooden sword slashed horizontally, landing a solid blow on Valen’s wrist. Valen let go in pain, and the wooden sword flew out, landing on the sand.
Glion raised his wooden stick.
“Fifth round, Joshua. Three to two, Joshua wins.”
The crowd was silent for a moment before erupting into a massive clamor. Joshua leaned over, panting, as beads of sweat dripped from his chin onto the sand. Valen clutched his wrist, glaring at Joshua with his lips pressed tight.
Glion walked to the center of the field and tapped Valen with his stick. “Two years of practicing Battle Qi, yet you were stalled until exhaustion by a freshman who hasn't even been in the department for a month. Starting tomorrow, you will do three hundred laps up and down the hill before training every day.” Then he turned to Joshua. “You. Those last few strikes were unorthodox and ugly, but a win is a win. Starting tomorrow, you train with the Advanced Class.”
Joshua straightened up. “Yes.”
Valen picked up his wooden sword and left without looking back. As he passed the fence, his gaze swept over Margarita on the mound, his expression growing even more somber, but he said nothing.
The crowd began to disperse. Margarita stood still on the mound until Lovell gave her a tug. “Let's go, let's find Joshua.”
“Mm.”
She answered, but her eyes were looking toward the other side of the training field. A woman was standing there.
Her long golden hair was draped neatly over her shoulders, and her academy uniform was worn perfectly, with the top button of her collar fastened. Her features were exquisite, but her expression was so cold it lacked all warmth. Her emerald-green eyes were calmly watching Joshua in the training field.
Ah… She really did come.
Constance von Windermere.
Royalty, a swordsmanship genius, the Student Council President… She had many titles, but now she was just standing there. Doing nothing, yet the people around her had naturally cleared a vacuum zone. She didn't approach, she just watched. Her gaze lingered on Joshua for a moment before moving to Margarita.
Across more than half the training field, Margarita was certain the other woman saw her. They locked eyes for a few moments before Constance withdrew her gaze, turned around, and left. The crowd on the path naturally moved aside to let her through.
Margarita let out a sigh of relief as she watched that figure disappear at the entrance of the training field.
What intense pressure.
“Little Mari?” Lovell tugged at her again. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Margarita retracted her gaze. “Let's go.”
When Joshua came out of the training field, the sweat on his face hadn't been wiped clean yet. Lovell darted over and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Way to go, Joshua! You won! How did you come up with those last few strikes? Valen’s face turned green!”
“Luck.” Joshua wiped his face with his sleeve. When he saw Margarita approaching, his ears turned slightly red. “Did you… see everything?”
“I told you I’d be here.” Margarita held the booklet to her chest and gave Joshua a small smile. “You were very impressive.”
Lovell chimed in from the side. “Little Mari, your hands were shaking like crazy just now, but now you’re acting all serious.”
“I was not.”
“You were! You were gripping that book so hard during the fifth round, I was afraid you’d crush it.”
Joshua looked at Margarita’s hands. Her fingers were indeed still a bit stiff, and she was subconsciously stroking the edges of the booklet.
“Were you worried about me?” Joshua asked.
Margarita glanced at him, didn't answer, and turned toward the cafeteria. “I’m hungry. Let's go eat.”
Lovell burst out laughing behind her, and Joshua’s ears turned even redder.
“Lovell.”
“Yeah?”
Margarita pulled the gun from her lower back.
“I am definitely shooting you today!”
The redhead immediately took off running.
…
The setting sun stretched their shadows long. Margarita walked in front, followed by Lovell, who was complaining to Joshua after being thwacked on the head with the gun handle. As the three of them walked along the path outside the training field toward the cafeteria, Margarita tapped her finger lightly on the cover of the booklet.
She had never been worried about just the outcome of the duel.
An Advanced Class background NPC appearing out of nowhere to challenge Joshua, Joshua entering the Advanced Class early, Constance starting to observe Joshua… in the game, all of these things happened much later. The timeline was a complete mess. Since Joshua’s growth was being accelerated, would he face problems he wasn't supposed to face yet? Today it was an advanced student with Battle Qi; what about tomorrow? A mid-tier or high-tier demon?
She couldn't decide whether Joshua should save the villagers back in Percy Village, and it was the same here. The feeling of watching the timeline being disrupted was like sitting in a runaway carriage.
She actually wanted to run away—to tell Joshua they should leave, go somewhere no one could find them, and return a year later when he would be safer.
But she couldn't. The first butterfly had already flapped its wings, and no one knew what would happen next. The Joshua who was an Avenging Hero had disappeared; now he was just Joshua. But he had still won, so Margarita believed Joshua would continue to win, because he never relied on a life that had been pre-arranged for him.
…
The cafeteria was much more crowded than usual, likely filled with people who had just finished watching the duel. The three of them found a corner by the window. Lovell snatched the seat opposite Joshua, so Margarita had no choice but to sit next to him.
“So,” Lovell said, biting her spoon while her eyes darted between the two of them, “why did you two think of coming here? Simply because your elders wanted you to?”
Margarita took a sip from her water cup. “He wants to be a Sword Saint, and I’m here to supervise him.”
Beside her, Joshua almost choked on his bread.
Lovell let out a long, drawn-out, “Ooooh—so you followed him all the way to the capital just to supervise him?”
“And to do some sightseeing along the way.”
“With a gun?”
Margarita put down her water cup and gave Lovell a look. Lovell wisely raised her hands in surrender and lowered her head to scarf down her food. Beside her, Joshua couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
“By the way,” Lovell looked up again and pointed at herself, “that trick of yours—the one you used outside the training field yesterday—can you demonstrate it for me?”
Margarita looked left and right. The cafeteria was crowded and noisy. She thought for a moment, then flicked her fingertip under the table. A pink point of light the size of a pea drifted out and circled around Lovell’s ear.
Margarita’s voice rang in Lovell’s ear: “Eat your food.”
Lovell snapped her head around. Margarita was clearly sitting across from her, head down, eating her stew.
“Whoa.” Lovell’s eyes widened. “How did you do that? Your lips didn't even move!”
“Directional Voice Transmission. Basic illusion magic.”
“Teach me!”
“Learn how to condense mana first.”
Lovell slumped. Joshua laughed from the side, only to be glared at by Lovell. “What are you laughing at? You can’t do it either.”
“I can use Battle Qi,” Joshua said.
“You call that using it? Professor Glion said those last few strikes were unorthodox; they don’t count as proper Battle Qi.”
Joshua was silenced as well.
Margarita lowered her head to eat, the corners of her mouth curling up. Outside the cafeteria window, the setting sun shone in, landing on the table where the shadows of the three overlapped. The surrounding students were still heatedly discussing the duel, and occasionally someone would glance their way, but no one came over to bother them.
Rate on N.U.
