WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Mordor

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Became the Second-in-Command in a Romance Fantasy Novel ◈

Chapter 7: The World Is Wide, and There Are Many Masters (3)

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Let’s rewind a little, to when I first enrolled at the academy.

Until right before enrollment, I worked myself to the bone as the prince’s punching bag, doing my best not to tarnish the kingdom’s reputation.

Every day, the kingdom’s renowned swordsmanship instructors drilled me so hard that twenty-four hours didn’t feel like enough. I also crammed in as many performance enhancers as my body could handle.

Thanks to that, I achieved the miracle of defeating the prince once every thirty bouts.

Put another way, even after all that hellish effort, I only won once in thirty.

And even then, it was because I got lucky.

How should I put it?

It was like the wall I felt when I happened to run into a professional player in that famous space-war RTS from my previous life.

I’d clearly crushed them in the opening build by a nine-to-one margin, yet every time I came to my senses, I’d been utterly destroyed.

I’d won the mind game, so why was I getting crushed?

It wasn’t like my basic stats were lower. No, thanks to the enhancers, mine were higher!

Yet whenever our swords met, I was the one who eventually lost.

It was the difference in technique and instinct.

Even when things went in my favor during the early game, I’d fall behind in the middle and late stages.

Even if things went well until then, I usually lost the war of attrition against Prince Ellen.

How should I describe it?

My total mana reserves were greater, but his efficiency was on a completely different level.

Mana was difficult to measure in exact numbers, but when I used a hundred units of mana, it felt like Prince Ellen could block it with thirty or forty.

It was insane.

It sounded simple enough, but if the mana used to respond was even slightly insufficient, his defense would break immediately.

It was an extreme tightrope walk for victory.

Prince Ellen attempted that tightrope walk every single time and succeeded.

His chance of failure was one in thirty.

What scared me was that the chance kept getting lower the more we sparred.

Geniuses really were terrifying creatures.

The more I learned about the sword, the more I realized just how vast the difference in talent could be.

That realization reached its peak at the academy entrance ceremony.

“I am Aren, the head professor of swordsmanship.”

At those words, cheers erupted through the previously quiet auditorium.

Until a moment ago, there had only been obligatory applause. Now, some people were even sobbing.

Aren.

He was better known by his title, the Sword Emperor.

Born a commoner, he had risen to the highest position with nothing but a sword.

He could have climbed even higher, yet he still held only that sword close, making him all the more respected.

To young swordsmen who still cherished the chivalry found only in stories, he was someone they worshipped more fervently than a goddess.

There probably wasn’t anyone else in this auditorium as indifferent as I was.

But that was why I could see something else.

Not the hero with accomplishments and character worthy of admiration.

I could evaluate the Sword Emperor coldly, as one swordsman judging another.

“...”

He was a monster.

Even our commander, the strongest swordsman I knew, was no match for the Sword Emperor.

I wondered if there could really be such a gap between Sword Masters.

Then I remembered the difference between Prince Ellen and me, even though we appeared to be at similar levels.

Was this why people said becoming a Sword Master was only the beginning of the sword?

Our commander still had a long way to go.

As I thought that, perhaps by coincidence, the Sword Emperor’s gaze met mine.

“Adam. The Sword Emperor looked this way.”

Prince Ellen said that beside me, his face flushed like a teenage girl’s.

Normally, it would be creepy for a guy to act like that.

It was terrifying how his looks made even that seem picturesque.

“He’s probably giving everyone a look.”

“We really get to learn from the Sword Emperor, right?”

“He’s the head professor.”

Head professors were assigned at least two mandatory classes.

There was no way the prince of the Leon Kingdom wouldn’t get to take the Sword Emperor’s classes.

No, with Prince Ellen’s talent and skill, he could take those classes even without the title of prince.

“Yes!”

After the entrance ceremony, the one-week trial period ended. Prince Ellen and I naturally succeeded in registering for the Sword Emperor’s classes.

Foundations of Combat, five credits.

Practical Swordsmanship Basics, five credits.

Two whole five-credit courses.

At the Imperial Academy, which gathered talented people from across the continent, offering beginner-level combat and swordsmanship courses was practically the same as telling people not to enroll.

Yet because the Sword Emperor was teaching them, the students were thrilled at the prospect of his meaningful instruction to relearn the basics.

“Of course! Your fundamentals have to be solid!”

Prince Ellen felt the same way.

Honestly, I didn’t understand what else he intended to learn there, but if he liked it, what could I do?

With equal parts anticipation and concern, the first day of Practical Swordsmanship Basics arrived.

“First, it is important to know where you currently stand.”

The Sword Emperor entered the classroom and immediately told us to kill each other.

“Lots will be drawn, and random duels will be held.”

The rules were fairly detailed, but in short, we were to adjust ourselves to our opponent’s level.

The format was unrestricted one-on-one duels.

Lose, and you were immediately eliminated. Winners would immediately face someone with the same number of wins.

My first opponent went down in one blow, and so did the second.

By the third, we exchanged several blows. My fourth opponent was weaker than the third, though, so it ended more quickly than expected.

That gave me the right to watch other people duke it out while I waited.

“Are you Adam Smith?”

A familiar face approached and asked.

Asran, the Little Sword Emperor.

The royal-certified candidate to become Prince Ellen’s rival.

He looked at me with a friendly expression, though his eyes brimmed with fighting spirit.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Asran, your next opponent.”

“Already?”

“It looks like this will take some time, so they said the winners will start their next matches quickly.”

That made sense. All the riffraff had already been eliminated. The people left were at least somewhat skilled.

Once they started clashing, of course it would take longer than expected.

“Sounds good.”

I was lucky.

I could check the Little Sword Emperor’s skills sooner than expected.

At the same time, I could avoid a match against Prince Ellen, whose outcome was already decided.

Even I would lose confidence if I kept losing.

The inner Mr. GigaChad in me would tell me to quit if my opponent was Prince Ellen. The gap in our skills was that wide.

“Hahaha, exactly.”

Perhaps happy that he could fight, the Little Sword Emperor laughed brightly and nodded.

To look at him, he seemed less like the Little Sword Emperor and more like a rabid dog that wanted to bite anyone nearby.

Still, since he was the grandson of the Sword Emperor, who was famous for his character, he merely seemed like someone with a strong competitive spirit.

That was the power of background.

Just as Prince Ellen’s looks made even middling things seem good, Asran made nearly everything seem good through the Sword Emperor’s halo.

So what could I show when I had neither looks nor a halo?

Skill.

“Asran versus Adam Smith. The fifth match begins.”

At the assistant instructor’s words, all eyes turned our way.

They were the students who had already been eliminated.

Their attention was directed at Asran, not me, but that didn’t change the fact that I was included in their gaze.

I had to imprint it on them.

The name of a swordsman who would not easily lose to Asran, the Little Sword Emperor.

I lightly drew up my mana and released sword aura.

It might be unnecessary against middling opponents, but against the Little Sword Emperor, this much was essential.

“Ha.”

A satisfied smile spread across Asran’s lips.

It was the moment a beast that had been bound by the rules and unable to show its full strength bared its fangs.

Then, in an instant, our swords met.

And.

“W-Winner, Adam Smith.”

“...”

That was the result.

We exchanged a total of thirty-four blows, and I won.

At first, I tested him to gauge his ability.

That was all it took.

“As expected of Adam!”

Aside from Ellen’s familiar voice from the back, nobody could say a word.

Understandably so.

Asran, the young prodigy whose fame spread across the continent, praised as the Little Sword Emperor, had been completely crushed.

If I had been a bystander, I would have felt the same way.

Holy fuck, what the hell is this?

I probably would have watched while thinking that.

“Holy fu...”

...ck, what the hell is this?

Being the person involved made it even more confusing.

Still, the fact remained that I had won, so I thought about why.

First hypothesis.

The continent’s gossipmongers had exaggerated the rumors again.

It was common enough.

Some rumor peddlers were even paid to inflate people’s achievements.

The problem was that the person in question was Asran.

His title, Little Sword Emperor, came from his grandfather’s title, the Sword Emperor.

Asran had even abandoned the noble surname his father had received, choosing to follow his grandfather’s path. He didn’t seem like the type to exaggerate his own skill.

Even if others called him the Little Sword Emperor, he would have refused if his abilities did not match the reputation.

According to the Leon Kingdom’s information, Asran was that sort of person.

Then the second hypothesis.

Asran was in poor condition.

That was possible.

I was confident I could beat Prince Ellen if he were bedridden with the flu.

The problem was that Asran hadn’t looked unwell until right before we fought.

Did he suddenly need to use the bathroom or something?

That didn’t seem likely either.

Then I remembered something Lucia had said a few months ago.

-I thought I was weak until I entered the academy.

It was Senior Lucia’s lament. After being beaten senseless by Princess Hestia over and over, Lucia had thought she was a complete scrub, only to discover that she had been the academy’s overlord all along.

The third hypothesis raised its head.

Maybe I was actually fucking strong.

After all, I had leveled up enormously before entering the academy.

It wouldn’t have been strange if I had become someone close to the strongest at the academy.

That was the question that came to mind.

I had easily beaten Asran, the continent’s greatest rising star.

“Winner, Ellen Leon!”

What kind of monster was the prince who beat me every time?

I thought the world was wide, and there were many masters.

It seemed the strongest person was right beside me.

* * *

“So that’s what happened.”

-I see.

I briefly reported everything that had happened that day to the commander.

Beyond the crystal ball, his expression looked roughly seventy percent dumbfounded.

-Even the Little Sword Emperor wasn’t enough.

The commander had learned swordsmanship directly from the Sword Emperor, even if only briefly.

That was why he believed the Little Sword Emperor, who carried the Sword Emperor’s name, could have a major influence on the prince.

Prince Ellen’s strongest rival.

The commander himself had evaluated Asran that way.

-W-Well, he is still a student. We won’t know until he grows stronger.

He said that, but I think the commander understood.

If Asran grew stronger, Prince Ellen would grow even stronger.

After all, he was the one who had watched Prince Ellen’s growth from closer than anyone except me.

“I hope so.”

-...I look forward to your regular report next week.

With a sigh, the commander ended the call with an expression that showed he was not looking forward to it at all.

I looked through the window at the sunset sky.

“Time to eat.”

I was doing all this to make a living, after all.

I left the dormitory and headed for the academy dining hall.

Naturally, all eyes turned to me.

The murmuring grew louder.

I had become famous throughout the academy in one day, but all I felt was troubled.

That Little Sword Emperor bastard... How could he betray our faith like this?

Maybe it was the pain of betrayal, but I suddenly wanted spicy food.

Did they even sell it here?

Fantasy worlds were great, but it was hard to find spicy food.

Just as I was about to enter the dining hall, someone called out.

“Adam!”

Someone grabbed my hand as a familiar voice called out.

With a strangely powerful grip that made resistance impossible, I was dragged to a secluded spot behind the dining hall.

“What is it, Your Highness?”

“I told you not to call me that. No, that’s not important right now!”

I turned to look at the culprit who had dragged me there.

Prince Ellen stared at me, his face strangely red.

What was with that expression?

If this took a BL turn, prince or not, I’d have to beat him up.

“I... I like someone.”

Fuck. If you say it’s me, I’ll beat you up no matter who you are.

“I met them for the first time today!”

Thankfully, this wasn’t a BL turn.

No, but fuck.

“Tell me more.”

That prince bastard was already planning to cause trouble on his first day.

Author’s Note (Author’s Afterword)

A long time ago, while playing StarCraft II, I ran into Jung Myung-hoon, a player better known for StarCraft I.

I successfully pulled off a forward two-Gate rush against their fast natural expansion and destroyed the natural.

Then I got absolutely crushed.

A touching true story.

Also, the reason I took Thursday off was because I spent the weekdays applying silicone, waterproofing sealant, and paint for waterproofing work.

It leaked anyway.

I’m crying.

Footnotes:

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