Chapter 44

EP.44 Classroom Observation (3)

The Royal Hounds, Hound.

They are different from ordinary knights.

Ordinary knights wield spears and swords to face the Demon King's army. These weapons are honed to kill demons. A knight is always prepared to confront the kingdom's enemies.

Since the kingdom's enemies were the Demon King's army, the spears and swords should also be directed at them.

However, Hounds are different.

The spears and swords of Hounds are aimed at humans.

The Royal Hounds deal with traitors who have sold their souls to the demon race. Even if they haven't sold their souls, they aim their blades at those who defy the royal will.

There is no mercy in the Hounds' blades.

No matter how noble a person is, they are merely prey in front of a Hound.

Their weapons exist to face other humans. Only those skilled in close combat can become Hounds.

"Hounds... "

Professor of Combat Magic, McHart.

He recalls the epithet attached to the Hounds.

'Masters of close combat.'

Whether in a one-on-one or a one-against-many, as long as the opponent is human, they never sheathe their weapons.

'Relentless hunting dogs.'

Once they set their sights on prey, they never let it go. Even nobles who flee to foreign lands are dragged back by them.

And.

Clang!

"..."

McHart looked ahead with a dazed gaze.

The Hound was swinging his sword. It was difficult to even follow the blade with his eyes. The speed was beyond comprehension.

However, the sword cut nothing.

It sliced through the air, deflected by something.

Clang!

The Hound stepped back.

He lowered the tip of his sword. Raising his head, he glared at his prey. McHart also looked in the same direction as the Hound.

"..."

A girl was there, silently pulling off her gloves.

She reached back and untied her hair, showing a vulnerability in front of the Hound.

The Hound would not miss such an opportunity.

The man lunged forward, swinging his sword. However, the result was no different from before.

Clang!

The girl extended her foot. The sole of her shoe met the sword blade, and the Hound's sword was deflected.

It had been like this all along.

'What on earth...'

The girl's gloves looked ordinary.

They appeared to be just leather gloves. Yet, she boldly reached out to the sword, trying to deflect and grab it.

'I...'

The Hound's sword was fierce.

With each blink, a series of strikes followed. McHart was certain that if he faced that sword, he wouldn't last a single blow.

'What am I seeing?'

However, the girl was different.

She deflected the blade. With a light flick of her wrist, a spell flashed, and the blade was pushed back.

McHart's eyes widened.

He took in the scene of their fight.

Clang!

Yet, he still couldn't see it.

The battle taking place at such a high level was beyond the comprehension of ordinary eyes.

Clang!

When the sword blade met the glove, a flash of light appeared. McHart couldn't tell what spell was being cast or how it was manifesting. He couldn't even guess.

It was fast.

Just fast.

After a moment of being lost in thought, he realized that several exchanges had already taken place.

"This is unbelievable... "

McHart muttered weakly.

It was unbelievable. There was no other way to describe it.

McHart looked at the girl.

Her skin was smooth. She had no calluses. There was no way she had muscles.

Then, McHart looked at the Hound.

The Hound's arms were covered in scars. Developed muscles were visible. He exuded the aura of a seasoned veteran who had been through countless battles.

The girl, who seemed far removed from combat, faced off against the Hound, a master of close combat.

The outcome of the fight was easy to imagine. The girl would be knocked down in a single blow. She would be subdued. That image was clear in McHart's mind.

However, what was the reality?

Clang!

It was a stalemate.

No, the girl was dominating. The Hound was gradually being pushed back, retreating into the forest. The girl pursued him.

The tide of the battle had already turned.

The Hound was the one fleeing.

The girl was the one chasing.

"Huh... "

McHart let out a hollow laugh.

He recalled the girl's name.

Lania von Trias.

A new professor, a young mage who had never experienced the battlefield. Moreover, a Wizard class, far removed from practical combat.

McHart erased that thought.

The blank space was filled with a completely different word.

Battle Mage.

That one word was enough.

"Haha."

The hollow laugh that escaped his lips grew louder.

McHart recalled the words he had said to Professor Lania.

"Ha."

McHart wiped his face.

"Looking like a clown in front of a lion's mouth."

2.

A member of the Hounds.

Kalt suddenly felt a sense of unease. The more he swung his sword, the more the unease grew.

What was he facing?

A girl who looked to be in her early twenties.

A girl with ash-gray hair. Kalt knew her identity well.

'A disciple of Elder Roselle and a professor at Aphria.'

Lania von Trias.

A fellow alumnus of the person who had shown him kindness, and in a sense, a younger sibling to that person.

'I intended to knock her out with the flat of my blade.'

So, he tried to subdue her without causing any injury, aiming for as gentlemanly an interrogation as possible. However, Kalt realized how ridiculous that thought was.

'I'm being pushed back.'

There was no room for leniency.

Despite giving it his all, he was being pushed back.

Since retiring from the battlefield, he had rarely fought at full strength. Kalt was an excellent swordsman, skilled in practical combat.

A mage or two like this.

He could subdue them without batting an eye.

'But, I keep being pushed back.'

He couldn't control the momentum. His sword was deflected. The trajectory of his blade, which he thought was a weakness, was altered.

'On the contrary, she's holding back.'

With her skill level, she could break his sword.

It would be even easier for her to crack his skull or embed a spell in his abdomen.

However, she didn't.

It was as if she was waiting for Kalt to lower his sword.

From her, Kalt felt a sense of familiarity.

'This is...'

Kalt narrowed his eyes.

His instincts as a Tracker were on high alert.

'...Isn't this similar to that person's fighting style?'

Unlike the mages who introduced themselves as Battle Mages but merely imitated that person, her movements felt natural. Her body seemed to follow the spells.

However, the girl in front of him was different.

Spells came first. The body followed. But the difference was almost negligible. Everything happened simultaneously.

She extended her arm. The spell on her forearm was released.

Mana naturally infused her arm.

She swung her fist. The spells on her knuckles were released, accelerating her punch. The simultaneous flash of light made it impossible to tell what spell was being cast.

'Perfect.'

Her movements were concise.

There was no waste.

They were efficient to the extreme.

'Ah.'

Kalt had met many Battle Mages.

As comrades or as enemies.

But he had never felt a similarity to that person from any of them.

However.

He felt a similarity from the girl in front of him.

'This is...'

Only this girl had the right to call herself a Battle Mage. And as far as Kalt knew, that right belonged to only one person.

Clang!

Kalt suddenly dropped his sword.

He raised both hands. The girl also stopped her movements.

"..."

She tilted her head slightly and looked at Kalt.

"Haha... "

Kalt let out a hollow laugh as he looked at the girl.

'It's really hard to believe... '

As a Tracker, Kalt accepted everything as information. The girl in front of him and the person he had seen on the battlefield shared even the smallest habits.

"I was wondering where you had gone."

Kalt smiled bitterly.

"To think you would be in such a state, sir."

Sir.

The word made the girl flinch. She then slowly opened her mouth.

"I'm not Laniel."

"Hmm, I didn't mention Laniel's name, sir?"

"Ah, damn it, you're interrogating me again... "

The girl slapped her forehead.

"You're still the same, Laniel."

An old benefactor.

Kalt smiled bitterly at the unchanged appearance of his superior, despite the significant changes.

3.

Kalt, who had entered deep into the forest, cut down two trees. They sat on the two stumps they had created.

The conversation began without any formalities.

Laniel insisted she wasn't Laniel, but Kalt just laughed it off.

It wasn't until Kalt swore on his mana that the conversation proceeded smoothly.

"So, this is the underground altar... and it was discovered during the recent Aphria terrorist incident, right?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Kalt looked at what Laniel had handed him.

It was a sealed altar. Indeed, the demonic aura he had sensed from Laniel was all from this.

"Phew... "

Kalt let out a deep breath.

"Wow, really lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"If you had become a traitor... wouldn't that be terrifying to even imagine?"

Imagining the ash-gray mage becoming an enemy of the kingdom made Kalt shudder.

'Who could stop that monster?'

Even if all the Hounds attacked together, it was doubtful they could even scratch her. Such a person becoming a demon...

'No, someone like her might even make a direct contract with the Demon King?'

Imagine her making a contract with a Demon King or at least one of the Four Heavenly Kings.

'Just thinking about it is terrifying.'

The thought alone made his teeth chatter. As Kalt shook his head, Laniel suddenly spoke.

"You won't tell anyone, right?"

"Of course not. I already swore on my mana. Why do you keep asking?"

"Damn, how can I tell anyone about this... "

Kalt glanced at Laniel.

Her ash-gray hair was long, and her blue eyes were hidden behind delicate eyelashes.

'Clearly, it's hard for her to adapt.'

She looked quite different from the superior he remembered. Not just in gender, but in appearance.

"...I owe you a lot, so I won't report this. It seems you have complicated circumstances."

"I'm not your superior anymore."

"...I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Kalt scratched the back of his head.

"I owe you so much, how could I spread this around?"

"Owe me?"

"When I retired, you and Sir Siegfried wrote a recommendation letter for me, didn't you?"

Kalt recalled the old memory.

The memory of the attack by one of the Four Heavenly Kings, the Death Blade Ganikart. At that time, Kalt had been cut by Ganikart's blade and was poisoned by demonic aura.

Thanks to the Holy Maiden's treatment, he survived, but...

The demonic aura poisoning left him with severe injuries.

'I can still wield a sword, and I can withstand a certain level of demonic aura, but...'

He couldn't endure the demonic aura in the Demon Realm anymore. That's when he decided to retire, and Lania, his superior at the time, wrote the recommendation letter.

-You have a dog's nose.

The words he had thrown at Kalt while he was packing. Kalt smiled bitterly as he recalled them.

-Why do you say that?

-Ah, what the hell. It's not like it's a day or two. Anyway, you have a good nose. You can track down traitors like a ghost.

-...Because I'm a Tracker.

-Then you can work here.

The recommendation letter he had thrown at him.

-Thanks for all your hard work. You've been a great help.

The favor he had received then was something he could never repay in his lifetime. As a commoner, Kalt wouldn't have had many options after retiring.

"...Thanks to you, I'm living comfortably."

"Is that my doing? It's your talent. Even if it wasn't me, people would have been vying for you after your retirement."

Working for the kingdom was better than joining some incompetent assassin guild.

As he muttered, Lania pursed her lips.

"Besides, you were the one who struggled against the demons, while you were the best at hunting human-form demons."

"Haha, thank you for the compliment."

Always the same person.

Her appearance had changed, but her subtle, caring tone remained the same.

'Her tone is a bit rough, but she's still considerate.'

Kalt smiled faintly and stood up.

"Shall we go?"

"We should report before it gets worse."

"What about McHart?"

"I'm still thinking about that. Is he a traitor?"

"No, he's definitely not a traitor."

"Then what should we do?"

Lania didn't answer the question.

Instead, she stood up and faced Kalt. They used to be of similar height, but not anymore.

Lania looked up at him. She tilted her head slightly and extended her hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Just stay still."

Then, she placed her hand on Kalt's chest. Her slender fingers tickled his chest muscles.

"...Why are you doing this?"

"Hey, Kalt."

"Yes?"

"Damn, how many times did I warn you not to swing your sword at me?"

Huh?

"Just once."

The fingers on his chest flashed with light.

Smite.

Boom!

"Ouch!"

Kalt fell to his knees, clutching his chest and screaming. Lania smiled at him.

"I only used ten percent of my power. Don't overreact."

"Why would you use Smite on someone's chest! What if it hit the sternum...!"

"A traitor who swings a sword at their superior is talking a lot."

"You said you're not my superior anymore!"

Tears welled up in his eyes.

Kalt coughed and looked up at Lania. She smiled and extended her hand.

Tap, her slender finger touched his forehead.

"Why not use it on the head instead of the chest?"

Gulping, Kalt shook his head. Being hit in the chest was better than being hit in the head by several times.

'She was always like this.'

Recalling a fact he had momentarily forgotten, Kalt shed a tear.

"Kalt."

"Yes, Professor Lania."

"Remember the shock you just felt."

"...Yes."

"Pass it on to McHart... damn it, I mean, the professor during the interrogation."

Kalt tilted his head.

"...But you said he's not a traitor?"

"His mindset is that of a traitor. It's very despicable. From what I see, he needs some interrogation."

"Ah, yes... "

4.

"McHart Creffeld."

The Hound, Kelt, who had returned from the forest, stood in front of McHart. He looked somewhat tired.

"As I warned, you need to come with me. You'll be receiving a light interrogation