Chapter 23: The Swordsmanship Prodigy Saintess

Academy Entrance Exam (4)

1.

An overwhelming difference in skill.

That was the only way to sum up the duel right now.

Elia let out a dry chuckle.

She had been expecting more. After all, he was the disciple of her disciple.

Even if he wasn’t particularly skilled, she thought at the very least he’d have some competence worthy of being called the hero’s student.

But—

“This is… pretty bad, isn’t it?”

Yohan lay sprawled on the ground.

He was in such a state it was hard to even look at him.

His cheek was split, blood dripping from his mouth, and his body was covered in wounds.

He was a mess.

Staggering, he got up again and charged toward Yuriel.

At best, it could be called grit. At worst, blind recklessness.

Thud!

Yuriel’s foot slammed into Yohan’s abdomen.

“Kugh!!”

Yohan collapsed to the ground, retching up yellow stomach acid.

“How about you just forfeit?”

Yuriel, who hadn’t even broken a sweat, yawned in boredom.

“I… I’m not done yet…!”

Using his sword like a cane, Yohan forced himself back to his feet.

The spectators let out a collective sigh of pity.

He was determined to land at least one hit.

That stubborn resolve shimmered in his blue eyes.

Elia wanted to cheer him on for not giving up, but her disappointment outweighed it.

Who was to blame here?

Had the master failed in teaching him properly?

Or had the disciple simply failed to learn?

Whatever the reason, Elia was not impressed.

Objectively speaking, Yohan wasn’t completely untalented.

He had a solid grasp of the basics, and his movements were fast.

His combat instincts seemed decent, but his body and mind weren’t in sync.

“…He doesn’t seem to be able to use sword aura yet.”

Or rather, it looked like he couldn’t control his mana properly.

Normally, there would be nothing strange about that.

There were more people who couldn't control mana at that age than those who could.

But considering he was applying to the Imperial Academy and was known as the hero’s disciple, it made no sense that he still hadn’t mastered even the basics of mana manipulation.

“Gah!”

Once again, Yohan rolled across the ground.

After taking a blow to the temple with the flat of the blade, he flailed like a fish.

When the supervisor tried to stop the match,

Yohan, steadied himself on the ground, motioned for him not to intervene.

Even when they tried to forcibly end it, he’d just get up again and charge back toward Yuriel.

“Middle tier… no, even the lower-middle tier might be a stretch.”

On the other hand—

Elia turned to Yuriel.

“As expected of the Skolhart family…”

The Skolhart family—an elite lineage famed for swordsmanship.

Living in the harsh environment of the North, they were apex predators of the nothern snowfields.

From the moment they could walk and speak, children of that family were handed swords to learn survival and combat.

Sometimes their training was brutal.

They might be thrown into a snow-covered mountain and told to survive—

Or given only a dagger and pushed into a den of wolves.

These harsh methods were what allowed the Skolharts not only to survive the frozen north, but to thrive in the world of swordmasters.

So that child… was she the granddaughter? Or great-granddaughter of that man?

As the past Sword Saint, Elia had interacted with every major sword family in the empire.

The Skolhart family were no exception.

Adrian had been close friends with the Skolhart patriarch.

Although their personalities had been polar opposites—

On the battlefield, they were reliable comrades who could trust each other with their backs.

I wonder if he’s still alive…?

Considering his age, his remains probably would have been scattered in the snowfields long ago.

Elia, briefly lost in memories, turned her gaze back to the two still sparring.

Just then, Yohan was getting back on his feet.

How long was he planning to keep this up?

“How many times are you going to get up?”

“Until I… huff… land one hit…”

Yuriel let out a long sigh and shook her head.

“I’ll give you credit for not giving up. But sometimes, knowing when to give up is just as important.”

Mana began to surge around Yuriel’s sword.

A layer of frost spread across the silver blade.

White mist coiled around the now ice-like sword.

“Oh… she’s already mastered weapon transformation?”

Elia admired Yuriel’s frozen sword.

Weapon transformation—

In other words, mana release.

It’s a technique that channels the unique nature of one’s mana into a sword, manifesting its power physically.

“If you can block this next strike, I’ll consider you the winner.”

A white mist spread beneath Yuriel’s feet.

The ground around her began to freeze.

…What a troublesome type of mana.

Adrian had once faced off against that very sword.

It rapidly froze everything it touched, making its wielder a real nuisance.

“…Bring it on.”

Yohan gripped his sword tightly.

To face that and still refuse to forfeit—

That attitude was commendable.

But the outcome was already clear.

“They say fools are brave…”

Her icy golden eyes fixed on Yohan.

He shivered as a chill crept up his spine.

“But bravery alone won’t keep you alive.”

Yuriel swung her sword from a distance.

An ice storm erupted.

Freezing the ground, sharp waves of sword aura rushed toward Yohan.

Icicle-like shards burst out wherever the sword aura had passed.

—Crackle!

It sounded like a massive shark swimming through frozen seas.

—Boom!

The sword aura swallowed Yohan whole.

The explosion scattered shards of ice in every direction.

The falling crystals sparkled like snow, drawing gasps of awe from the audience.

It was a breathtaking sight.

The white mist cleared—

“Haa… haa… guh…”

Incredibly, Yohan was still standing.

Of course, he didn’t look unscathed.

His right arm was half frozen.

But he had blocked it.

He had somehow unleashed his uncontrolled mana, letting it rampage and clash against Yuriel’s attack.

As a result, he vomited blood, and the blood vessels across his body had burst.

“You win.”

Yuriel sheathed her sword and surrendered.

It was a shameful victory—

One win out of a hundred battles.

But to Yohan, that single victory was enough to make him smile.

“Ha… haha… ugh…”

His body reached its limit.

He collapsed forward and lost consciousness.

“He’s got grit, I’ll give him that.”

Elia nodded approvingly with a satisfied smile.

Yes, even if he wasn’t strong yet,

As long as he had the will to never give up, there was always potential for growth.

Still, it was disappointing.

Next time she saw the Hero, she’d have words for him.

What were you thinking, raising your disciple like this?

Yuriel gave Yohan one last glance before turning away and leaving the training arena.

The result of the duel: Yuriel's loss by forfeiture.

However, both passed the entrance exam.

Although Yohan had been completely overwhelmed, the fact that he endured to the end and managed to block the final attack earned him high marks.

Elia rose from her seat.

There was more to see, sure—

But right now, she had something else on her mind.

She wanted to meet Yuriel.

More precisely, she wanted to fight her once.

“Excuse me.”

Elia called out to Yuriel.

Yuriel turned around.

Her silver hair fluttered in the spring breeze like the hem of a skirt.

Through the slender strands of hair, her golden eyes could be seen.

“I enjoyed your duel.”

Yuriel instinctively grew wary of Elia.

It was only natural for her to be cautious when a stranger, cloaked and hooded, suddenly approaching her.

But Elia, unaware of how suspicious she looked, stepped closer.

In response, Yuriel thrust her sword toward the stranger—a warning to stay back.

“Huh…?”

But the suspicious figure, Elia, caught the blade barehanded.

A strange flow of energy pulsed through the contact.

Had she done it wrong, the blade would have sliced right into her palm.

“I know northern greetings can be a bit rough, but was it always this intense?”

Her voice was beautiful.

It had a calming tone, soothing to the ears.

Yuriel tried to pull her sword back.

It didn’t budge.

Despite her slender build, the girl’s grip was unbelievably strong.

Well, she had probably used mana to enhance her body, but still, the strength was absurd.

“Who are you?”

“Just an interested spectator who enjoyed your match,” Elia replied, releasing Yuriel’s blade.

“To think you’ve already mastered weapon transformation at such a young age. That’s impressive. I got so excited watching, I was practically bouncing in my seat!”

She didn’t seem to mean any harm.

Yuriel slowly sheathed her sword.

“I’d love to have a match with you sometime.”

“What, right now?”

Yuriel’s hand hovered over her sword hilt again.

“No, I’d like that too, but not with you in your current condition.”

Elia stepped forward.

Just that one step closed the entire distance between them in an instant.

“...!”

Elia placed her hand on Yuriel’s hip.

Yuriel winced at the sudden jolt of pain.

“Yohan landed a hit on you, didn’t he?”

Elia’s hand slid up and pressed gently along Yuriel’s side.

Blood oozed out.

Not many people had noticed, but in the final moment of the duel—

Yohan had not only blocked Yuriel’s attack, but also shattered one of the ice shards and sent it flying toward her.

That shard had pierced her side.

“Freezing the wound to stop the bleeding? That’s impressive.”

A warm sensation began to spread through Yuriel’s injured side.

“Hhngh…! Wh-What are you doing…?!”

“What if that pretty body of yours ended up with a scar?”

Elia removed her hand.

As soon as she did, the warmth vanished—

And with it, so did the pain.

“If there’s ever a chance… please be my sparring partner. I really want to face you someday.”

Waving lightly, Elia turned and walked away.

Yuriel lifted her shirt to check the wound.

Though the fabric was still stained with blood, her side was completely healed.

“…How?”

It was unbelievable.

She had healed her just by touching her.

Not only could she use mana, but divine power too?

Yuriel stared at Elia’s receding figure.

“Uwaaah!”

A gust of wind blew, tugging at Elia’s hood.

She panicked, fumbling to pull it back down over her head, and looked just a bit ridiculous doing it.

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