A Failed Knight Who Went to the Academy To Get Married

002 Academy for the Disqualified

A month had passed since Traein was bitten by the beast.

Yuril visited his sickroom again this morning.

“Is your body okay?”

“…Yeah.”

Yuril said as he sat down beside Traein’s bed.

“They say that with rehabilitation training, some strength will return to my hand.”

Traein muttered under his breath, not even looking at Yuril.

“I see.”

“I may not be able to wield a sword, but they say it won’t be a major hindrance to everyday life.”

“Right.”

“There are plenty of ways to fight without a sword, aren’t there?”

“Possibly.”

…Such has been his attitude for a month.

Is it because five years of effort have gone to waste,

Or has he despaired after witnessing Yuril’s fight, realizing he can’t win?

No matter how much Yuril tried to cheer him up, he couldn’t muster the energy.

Finally, Yuril, resigned, stepped out of the hospital room,

And there, the butler was waiting for her.

“If you can’t wield a sword, you might not adapt well at the academy.”

“Didn’t they say we need to leave by tomorrow morning to not be late for the entrance ceremony?”

“Indeed, that’s the case.”

Yuril clenched her teeth,

and then continued calmly.

“Isn’t something odd? For that stubborn one to be so dispirited.”

“It’s like her life’s purpose has been completely taken away.”

“No, there must be something with that creature.”

Yuril immediately headed to the library and began to search through the books haphazardly.

How much time had passed?

Eventually, Yuril was able to find a crucial clue.

“The Crescent Tundra wolves… indeed, those wolf creatures were a subspecies.”

With a glimmer of hope, Yuril read the passage about the wolf’s poison.

But soon, Yuril’s expression hardened.

“What is this!”

It seemed that Trine’s loss of strength was due to the poison,

but that was merely a secondary issue.

Overall physical strength diminished.

Magic power and recovery rate reduced to one-tenth.

And… the loss of confidence and passion.

It’s said that an ordinary person might take their own life without it being strange.

“It was the poison that made her strange after all!”

Yuril felt relieved for a moment,

but soon began to search quickly for a way to detoxify.

However, the book only had one line written about detoxification.

‘It is called one of the three great mysteries of the world, so difficult that the method of detoxification has not yet been discovered.’

…When he finally left the library without any findings, it was already three in the morning.

Intending to rest for the day, he headed back to his bedroom,

but encountered Train in the corridor.

As Train showed a hint of panic, Yuril frowned and asked,

“What are you doing at this hour?”

“Uh? Oh, just…”

Dressed for an outing, with a large backpack in tow,

It looked as if she was sneaking off to some faraway place.

“Where are you headed?”

“Just off to the restroom.”

“Don’t joke. You’re not seriously heading to the academy, are you?”

Faced with that question, Train hesitated for a moment before slowly replying.

“I’ve come to want to give up on saving you.”

“…I see.”

Yuril took a step back from Train.

With such a reason, Yuril had neither the right nor the reason to stop him.

After all, letting go of each other was surely for the best for both of them.

“Take care of yourself out there. You’re a fine person, even without wielding a sword.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And promise me just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Never die, and make sure to be happy.”

Train quietly smiled and nodded before turning his steps towards the outside of the mansion.

Yuril could only watch his back, which might be the last view she’d have of him.

…However,

For some reason,

Train’s footsteps did not belong to someone who had given up on everything.

Instead, they carried the solemnity of someone who had firmly resolved to do something.

***

The next day, right after the academy’s entrance ceremony.

The students gathered in the assigned classroom were somewhat tense.

The National Academy of the Kingdom of Altoria.

The premier educational institution boasting a fierce admission competition ratio of 10 to 1.

And among them, this place was the Knight Department classroom, selecting only the top ten scorers each year.

It was natural for the tension to arise, as it was filled with scions of famous noble families at a glance.

Before long, the instructor entered the classroom.

“Welcome! I am Eloi, the instructor who will be in charge of your class for the next three years.”

The short-haired woman stood in front of the blackboard, leaning on the podium with both hands as she looked around.

“It seems this year we have many students famous for their talents!”

Suddenly, her eyes met with the only commoner boy in the classroom,

and with a meaningful smile, she addressed him.

“You’re Train, aren’t you? The one who caused a commotion this morning, asking the principal to transfer to the magic department.”

The sharp gazes of the students focused on Train.

It was quite unusual for a commoner to enter the knight department,

but it was even more nonsensical to request a transfer after getting in.

Thanks to that, Train, who had received unwanted attention, sighed and replied.

“I was rejected, though.”

“Why? Was it too much pressure being around only nobles?”

“Not really. I didn’t come here to climb the social ladder.”

At those words, a female student couldn’t hold back and spoke up.

“Instructor! Wouldn’t it be better for the Knight Academy to transfer that commoner as well?”

At that, Instructor Eloi scratched his head in apparent discomfort and replied.

“That guy is the top student, so the principal wouldn’t allow it.”

Upon hearing this, the noble students began to whisper among themselves in surprise.

“Is he the only one who scored perfect marks in all subjects this year?”

“I heard he was the only one to get a perfect score in the swordsmanship test.”

“He must have bribed his way in with an illicit admission.”

Clearing his throat to regain the students’ attention, Instructor Eloi announced.

“Anyway, today we will elect a class president!”

At those words, the students’ eyes lit up.

The position of class president in the Knight Academy was the highest honor of the academy.

After all, success after graduation was practically guaranteed.

“The method will be a tournament duel! The one who ranks first will be the president! Simple, right?”

With that, Eloi immediately led the students to the training field.

“As you all know, only training weapons can be used within the academy.”

And then, he pointed to the weapon racks that had been prepared in advance.

Wooden swords, staffs, bows, and a variety of other weapons were ready.

“So go ahead and choose whatever you like from inside.”

The students rushed in a flurry, each beginning to pick their weapon,

And Train, under the watchful eye of the instructor, reluctantly joined the ranks.

After some deliberation, he picked up a non-lethal rubber bullet pistol, only to be sneered at from behind.

“Are you really going to use such a self-defense weapon? Can’t a commoner handle a proper weapon?”

Train remained silent, and Instructor Eloi muttered with a slightly troubled expression.

“It’s awkward with ten people. Eight would have been perfect for a tournament.”

Then, a slacker-like male student stepped forward and said,

“I’m out. My stomach hurts.”

“Really? I thought Prince Siran would naturally aim for the class leader position.”

“The class leader’s position is not for royalty, but for jesters.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

At that moment, another female student raised her hand and said,

“I’m not feeling well today either, so I’ll have to pass.”

“Really? That makes exactly eight of us.”

Only then did Traein, belatedly flashing his hand up, shout,

“I’ll pass too!”

“No way. It’s already over.”

And then, scribbling a bracket on a huge piece of paper at will, he exclaimed,

“Alright, the honor of the first duel goes to Traein and Jeez! Both of you, step forward!”

Traein sighed and stepped forward as instructed,

While his opponent sneered with a triumphant look on his face,

“Lucky me, facing a commoner who got in through backdoor admissions.”

With slightly reddish skin and small horns on his head, he seemed to be of the demon race.

It was said that demons have superior physical abilities compared to humans,

But Traein had no intention of winning anyway.

He had planned to forfeit as soon as the duel began, but…

“By the way, anyone who loses on purpose runs 100 laps around the field!”

…Well, I suppose I should at least pretend to fight.

“Then begin!”

At Instructor Eloi’s shout, the demon student charged with all his might.

In his hand was a strange weapon, a fusion of a spear and an axe.

Traine backpedaled to buy time,

But his opponent pursued him closely, swinging the weapon wildly.

“Become the sacrifice for my halberd!”

A flurry of slashes and stabs poured forth freely.

As Traine dodged with a troubled expression, unable to counter,

His opponent, more spirited, cried out.

“Too fast for you to even counter, huh!”

…Honestly, the reason for Traine’s trouble was a bit different.

It was because his opponent was too slow.

At this rate, it was literally a level he could avoid with his eyes closed.

I began to wonder if I was being deliberately lenient.

‘Pretending to be overpowered now might just raise suspicions.’

After much deliberation, Train decided to simply take down his opponent.

Dodging the halberd slightly to the side, he closed in on his foe,

and upon firing his gun at the opponent’s forehead,

the adversary collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Train looked down at the fallen opponent and muttered,

“Did I go too easy on you? …What, you passed out?”

…At that moment, a strange feeling washed over me, and looking around,

for some reason, everyone wore expressions of horror.

“Amazing!”

“That guy is incredibly fast!”

“To toy with a demon like that…”

Train stumbled back, flustered.

‘Why are their reactions like this?’

In truth, Train did not objectively understand his own abilities.

After all, Yuril’s butler had berated him day after day for his lack of talent.

Moreover, he was now in a state of greatly diminished confidence due to the poison of a demon.

Therefore, Train firmly believed that it wasn’t his strength that had won the battle.

‘It must be that everyone just doesn’t want to be the leader.’

…Not long after, it was Train’s turn again.

The second duel was with Barbara, a female student wielding a crossbow.

‘This time, let’s pretend to lose!’

As soon as the duel began, the female student immediately fired her crossbow.

Train tried to act as if he couldn’t react and get hit by the arrow but-

‘If it hits, you die!’

Warned by instinct, Train reflexively twisted his body to dodge,

and soon after, the arrow that had grazed him exploded quietly behind his back.

“What, what!”

His opponent muttered with a slightly displeased expression.

“To dodge that, you’re really something.”

“But it’s dangerous! You should only use training arrows!”

“It doesn’t matter if the arrows are made with my magic, does it?”

“No, that’s not the point—”

“Always so much to say!”

The opponent unleashed another barrage of arrows.

“Damn it! What kind of person is this!”

Traine dodged the arrows with movements akin to acrobatics.

At the same time, he pulled the trigger of his pistol repeatedly,

but the bullets were too slow, and the female student easily dodged them.

“Stop dodging and stay still for a moment!”

“Then at least reduce the power!”

The peculiar battle of shooting and dodging seemed like it would last a while,

but soon Traine’s pistol ran out of bullets, clicking empty,

and in his haste to change the magazine, he dropped it.

“I won!”

The schoolgirl, certain of her victory, charged at Traine.

And just as she was about to shoot her crossbow from an unavoidably close range—

Suddenly, a pistol flew towards the girl’s face.

“Kyaa!”

In the end, the schoolgirl, struck on the forehead by the pistol, slumped to the ground.

In fact, Traine dropping the magazine had been intentional.

Since shooting the gun wouldn’t hit the target anyway,

He had quickly thought to create an opening.

…Traine reached out his hand to help her up, thinking she’d rise.

“Are you okay?”

Then the schoolgirl, after glaring at Traine for a moment,

Soon, with a resigned air, took his hand to stand up and said,

“I lost.”

“Huh? Oh, no, that was just my hand slipping—”

“Quiet. Don’t you know such consideration only makes it more miserable?”

In the end, Train missed the chance to deliberately lose again.

‘I must win in the next duel!’

But the third duel ended before it even started with just a single sentence from his opponent.

“I used up all my magic in the second duel, so I surrender.”

Then Instructor Eloi grinned and said,

“Is that so? Train, congratulations on making it to the finals.”

“Instructor, I’ve also used up all my magic, so I forfeit!”

“Hahaha. That’s a funny joke.”

Train sighed as if wishing the ground would swallow him up.

‘How did it come to this… Well, it’s okay if I lose in the finals.’

Besides, there was one student who stood out with a noticeable eagerness.

Sure enough, that student triumphantly won the semifinal.

“It’s indeed Lady Lisbeth of the Duke’s family!”

“True to the reputation of the strongest swordsmanship lineage.”

“He is truly more suited to be the class president of the Knight’s Academy than any commoner.”

…Train eventually stood in the final match alongside Elizabeth.

Long and vivid red hair.

A humble yet confident expression.

Even a wooden greatsword that seemed larger than his own stature.

As Train was observing her for a moment,

Elizabeth approached with a gentle smile and spoke.

“I’ve watched your duels so far. You have remarkable skills, don’t you?”

“You, the Duke, are the impressive one.”

“I have a request. Would you speak informally to me?”

“No! How dare a mere commoner like myself.”

“It’s alright, whether noble or commoner, we’re all classmates, aren’t we?”

“Still, there are things we must uphold.”

“I’m telling you it’s fine to let go.”

“I must respectfully decline.”

Lisbeth approached Train and,

suddenly, she grabbed him by the collar, her face stern.

“When I tell you to speak casually, do it.”

Intimidated by her spirit, Train replied without thinking.

“Ah, got it.”

Only then did Lisbeth step back with a gentle smile.

“But why aren’t you carrying a sword?”

“I’m a commoner; I’ve never learned to wield one.”

“There were rumors you used a sword during the entrance exams.”

“Never happened.”

“Lies.”

Lisbeth caught Train’s hand and stared intently at it.

“Calluses like these mean you’ve trained extensively with a sword, haven’t they?”

Finally, Train resignedly answered.

“I injured my hand, so I can’t hold a sword anymore.”

Upon hearing that, Lisbeth cast a suspicious glance at Train for a moment,

then, resigning herself, she let go of his hand and returned to her seat.

After a brief pause, Instructor Eloi shouted,

“Then, let the final match for the position of class leader begin! Ready, set, go!”

Train pretended to draw his pistol and take aim,

but for some reason, Lisbeth, in an unguarded stance, spoke up.

“First, I’ll apologize. Because I do want to fight you earnestly.”

“What?”

“What are you swinging that sword for?”

At that, Train slightly bowed his head and replied,

“…There’s a girl I want to save.”

“Is that so? With your hand injured, that’s now impossible.”

As Train’s expression twisted,

Lisbeth continued more harshly.

“You’re really something. To devote yourself to swordsmanship just for a girl, you’re no different from an obsessive stalker, are you?”

“Don’t spout nonsense when you know nothing.”

“Just give up on that one. They’re not worth your attention anyway.”

A terrible rage surged momentarily, but

Traine calmly took a deep breath before replying.

“Did you just cast a provocation spell on me?”

“Not bad, huh? Knowing doesn’t mean you can prevent it.”

“…If you’re so eager to fight.”

Traine discarded his pistol on the ground and murmured softly.

“…Even if the body perishes, the knight’s honor remains eternal.”

“Why suddenly start talking like you’re in some epic saga?”

“Sword of the departed, heed my will!”

As Traine shouted,

A translucent, bluish sword materialized in his hand.

“Come at me.”

Lisbeth swallowed dryly as she witnessed the sudden shift in Traine’s aura.

But soon, with a somewhat joyous expression, he lifted his great sword.

“Shall we, who walk the path of the sword, have a proper fight?”