Quit The Hero Party

EP.44 Class Observation (3)

The Hound of the Royal Family.

They are different from regular knights.

Regular knights wield spears and swords to confront the Demon Lord’s Army. Those weapons are trained to slay beasts. Knights always face the enemies of the Kingdom.

Since the enemy of the Kingdom is the Demon Lord’s Army, those weapons must also be directed towards them.

However, the Hounds are different.

The Hounds’ weapons are aimed at humans.

The hunting dogs of the royal family confront the betrayers who have sold their souls to the demon race. Even if one hasn’t sold their soul, they point their blades at those who defy the will of the royal family.

There is no mercy in the blades of the hunting dogs.

No matter how noble a person’s title, before the Hounds they are nothing more than prey.

Their weapons exist to confront fellow humans. Only those skilled in close combat can become Hounds.

“Hunting dogs…”

Professor of Battle Magic, Mackhart.

He recalls the epithet that has been given to the Hounds.

‘Masters of Close Combat.’

Be it one versus one or one against many, as long as the opponent is human, they won’t draw their weapon.

‘Relentlessly tearing hunting dogs.’

Once prey has been decided, they never let it go. They even drag nobles who have fled abroad back out.

And then.

“…The natural enemies of Mages.”

The last descriptor.

Mackhart pronounced it aloud.

The natural enemies of Mages.

There’s a reason why they are called hunting dogs.

Of the cases of betrayers, nine out of ten are Mages. And it is the duty of the hunting dogs to hunt down these betrayers. The hunting dogs have performed their duty admirably.

‘Regardless of their class, the moment mages stand before hunting dogs, they lose their worth.’

Wizards, Summoners, even Battle Mages cannot escape the fangs of a Hound.

No battle mage, no matter how skilled in close combat, can compare to a Hound who has only studied hand-to-hand combat.

That should be the case, but…

Clang!

“…”

Mackhart stared blankly ahead.

A Hound was swinging his sword. It was difficult to even follow the tip of the blade with his eyes. A swift strike that was hard to gauge.

However, that sword couldn’t cut anything.

It sliced through the air. It bounced off something that intercepted it.

Clang rang out belatedly.

The Hound stepped back.

He lowered his sword and raised his head, eyeing his prey. Mackhart also looked where the Hound was looking.

“…”

There was a girl silently pulling down her gloves.

She stretched her hands back, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She revealed a gap in front of the hunting dog.

The hunting dog would not miss that gap.

A man lunged forward. He swung his sword. However, the result was no different from before.

Clang!

The girl extended her foot. The sole of her shoe collided with the blade. It was the Hound’s sword that was sent flying.

It had been like that from earlier.

‘What in the world.’

The gloves on the girl’s hands were ordinary.

They appeared to be just leather gloves. However, the girl wearing them boldly reached out towards the sword. She deflected the blade and attempted to grab it.

‘I…’

The Hound’s sword was vicious.

With every blink, a deadly strike was piled on. Mackhart, if he faced that sword? He was convinced he wouldn’t be able to endure even one strike.

‘What is she seeing?’

But the girl was different.

She deflected the blade. With a light flick of her wrist, spells burst forth and the blade was pushed away.

Mackhart widened his eyes.

He took in their fight.

Clang!

But still, he couldn’t see it.

The fight occurring at such a distant realm was not permitted to the eyes of a mere bystander.

Clang!

The moment the blade collided with the gloves, a light flashed. Mackhart could not comprehend what spell was being cast or how it was being executed. He couldn’t even begin to imagine.

It was fast.

Simply fast.

After momentarily zoning out, he realized it had already exchanged blows multiple times.

“That’s unbelievable…”

Mackhart muttered weakly.

It made no sense. That’s the only way he could express it.

Mackhart looked at the girl.

Her skin was smooth. There were no calluses. She likely had no muscles.

Next, Mackhart looked at the hunting dog.

The Hound’s arms were covered in scars. Well-defined muscles were visible. He exuded an aura of a veteran who had experienced countless fights.

A girl who seemed far from battle.

Faced off against a Hound, hailed as a master of close combat.

The outcome of that fight was easy to imagine. The girl would be overwhelmed in just one exchange. Such a scene was vividly drawn in Mackhart’s mind.

But what is the reality?

Clang!

It was the hunting horn.

No, it was the girl who was gaining the upper hand. The Hound was being pushed back little by little. He began retreating into the forest. The girl chased after him.

The dynamics of the fight had inverted.

It was the Hound who was fleeing.

“Ha…”

Mackhart let out a bitter laugh.

He recalled the girl’s name.

Rania van Trias.

A new professor and a novice mage who had yet to experience the battlefield. Not to mention, a Wizard Class far removed from actual combat.

Mackhart pushed that thought away.

What replaced the erased thought was an entirely different word.

Battle Mage.

That one word was enough.

“Haha.”

A laugh escaped his lips, growing louder.

Mackhart recalled the words he had said to Professor Rania.

“Ha.”

Mackhart wiped his face.

“Looks like I’ve been dancing right in front of a tiger’s mouth.”

—

The Hound.

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

What am I facing?

A girl who looks to be around twenty.

A girl with striking ashen hair. He knew her identity well.

‘A disciple of the Rosel Elder and a professor of Apuria.’

Rania van Trias.

Kalt owed her a debt, being a schoolmate of the person who had helped him.

‘I was planning to knock her out with the back of my sword.’

He intended to knock her out without causing injury and conduct an interrogation as gentlemanly as possible. However, he realized how ridiculous that thought was.

‘I’m being pushed back.’

It’s not a situation where I can go easy.

Even while giving it my all, I’m being pushed back.

Since retreating from the battlefield, there have only been a few instances where he fought with all his strength. Kalt was an outstanding swordsman and capable in actual combat.

A few mages like this.

Surely, I could overpower them without a second thought.

‘Still being pushed back.’

There was no way for him to regain the momentum.

The sword he swung was deflected. The trajectory of the sword, which he thought was an opening, was redirected.

‘On the contrary, she’s going easy on me.’

With that level of skill, she could break my sword.

It would be easier for her to smash Kalt’s head or drive a spell into his abdomen.

However, she does not.

It’s as though Kalt himself is waiting for his sword to rise.

In that behavior, Kalt felt familiarity.

‘This…’

Kalt narrowed his eyes.

The instincts of a Tracker were heightened.

‘Isn’t this similar to her combat style?’

They claim to be Battle Mages, merely imitating that person. Their movements give the impression that their spells are being dragged along with their bodies.

But this girl before me is different.

Spells come first. The body comes second. Yet, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent. Everything happens simultaneously.

She extends her arm. The spell on her forearm is released.

Mana naturally flows into that arm.

She throws a punch. The spells on each knuckle are released, accelerating the punch. At the same time, a burst of light makes it impossible to discern what spell is activated.

‘Perfect.’

Her movements are precise.

There’s no waste.

An efficient motion honed to the extreme.

‘Ah.’

Kalt had met numerous Battle Mages.

As allies or enemies.

However, Kalt had never felt a trace of similarity to that person from any of them.

But.

He feels a similarity from the girl before him.

‘This is.’

Only this girl can rightfully call herself a Battle Mage. And as far as Kalt knows, that qualification belongs to only one person.

Ding!

Kalt suddenly dropped his sword.

He raised both hands. The girl also ceased her movements in response.

“…?”

She tilts her head slightly, looking at Kalt.

“Haha…”

Kalt chuckled at the sight of her.

‘It’s truly hard to believe…’

The Tracker, Kalt, accepts everything as information. The person he had seen on the battlefield resembles this girl in even the slightest habits.

“Where have you been?”

Kalt said with a bitter smile.

“Looks like you’re in quite the state, my lady.”

My lady.

At that word, the girl flinched, a shiver running through her body.

Then she slowly opened her mouth.

“…I’m not Raniel.”

“Hmm, I didn’t even mention the name Raniel, did I, my lady?”

“Ah, damn it, you’re leading me into a trap again, argh…”

The girl slapped her forehead.

“You’re still the same, Lady Raniel.”

Seeing her long-lost benefactor now transformed, Kalt gave a bitter smile.

—

Deep within the forest, Kalt cut down two trees. Both he and Raniel sat on the stumps made from the fallen trees.

Without anyone leading, the conversation began.

Raniel continued to insist she was not Raniel, but Kalt just scoffed.

Eventually, after Kalt swore on his mana, the conversation flowed smoothly.

“So, you mean this is the underground waterway… and it was discovered during the recent terrorism incident in Apuria?”

“Exactly.”

Kalt looked at what he received from Raniel.

It was a sealed altar. The magic he felt from Raniel was indeed all contained within it.

“Huh…”

Kalt let out a long sigh, exhaling deeply.

“Wow, that’s a relief.”

“What’s that?”

“If my lady had turned into a betrayer… wouldn’t that be horrifying just to imagine?”

Imagining the ashen mage becoming an enemy of the royal capital made Kalt shiver.

‘Who could stop that monstrous person?’

Even if all the Hounds ambushed, there’s doubt whether they could inflict a scratch. If such a person became allied with the demon race…

‘Or would she contract directly with the Demon Lord or at least with a being of the caliber of the Four Heavenly Kings?’

Imagine that she became a betrayer after contracting with a Demon Lord or a high-ranking demon lord.

‘It’s terrifying just to think about.’

Just thinking about it made Kalt tremble.

As he shook his head, Raniel suddenly spoke up.

“Are you seriously not going to tell anyone?”

“I won’t. I’ve even sworn on my mana so why do you keep asking?”

“Hey, with me looking like this, how do they expect me to not feel embarrassed talking about it…”

Kalt shot a glance at Raniel.

Her long ashen hair and the blue eyes hidden behind her thin eyelashes.

‘Indeed, it’s quite hard to adjust.’

She looked significantly different from the person Kalt remembered. Leaving aside gender, the impression was entirely different.

“…I owe my lady a lot so I won’t report this separately. You seem to have complicated circumstances.”

“I’m not your lady anymore.”

“…Anyway, I said I wouldn’t tell.”

Kalt scratched the back of his head.

“Since I owe Lady Raniel so much, there’s no way I would go spreading this here and there.”

“Owe?”

“When I said I was retiring, you wrote me a recommendation letter together with Sir Zigfried, the Knights Commander.”

Kalt reminisced about old memories.

Memories from the time when he was attacked by Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade, one of the Four Heavenly Kings. During that time, Kalt was poisoned by magic from Ganikalt’s sword.

Thanks to the Saint’s healing, he managed to survive…

But the magical poison left a significant injury on Kalt.

‘No problem wielding a sword, and I can withstand a certain amount of magic, but…’

I couldn’t withstand it any longer in the magic-infested demon realm. When I decided to retire, it was none other than Lady Raniel, who had written me the recommendation.

– You’re a damn fool.

She had suddenly come to me with that remark while I was packing.

Recalling her words made Kalt smile bitterly.

– Why do you speak like that?

– Pfft, haven’t you been a fool for a long time? Anyway, you’re great. You find betrayers like a ghost.

– Because I’m a Tracker.

– Then you should work here.

The recommendation letter she handed me was casual.

– Good work. You’ve been quite helpful.

The gratitude he received then was a debt he could never repay in his lifetime.

Since Kalt, originally a commoner, wouldn’t have many available opportunities after retiring.

“…Thanks to you, I’m living without any shortage.”

“That’s not my grace. It’s your own skill. Even without me, they would’ve been looking for you with eyes wide open the moment you retired.”

Better to be among the royal capital than get involved with a stupid assassin guild.

Muttering that, Raniel rested her chin in her hand.

“Moreover, you’ve just had a hard time facing beasts; when it comes to hunting mages and humanoid monsters, no one can match you.”

“Haha, I appreciate your kind words.”

She was always the same person.

Though her appearance had changed, her tone was still considerate.

‘Though her tone is a bit rough, she has a kind heart.’

Kalt chuckled lightly and stood up.

“Shall we move?”

“We should report this before it gets any bigger.”

“What about Mackhart?”

“I’m pondering that. Do you suspect him of being a betrayer?”

“No, it’s certain he isn’t a betrayer.”

“Then what should we do?”

In response to that question, Raniel didn’t answer.

Instead, she stood up and positioned herself in front of Kalt. Though they used to be of similar height, it was no longer the case.

She had to look up at him.

She tilted her head slightly and reached out her hand.

“What, what are you doing?”

“Just hold still.”

Then she placed her hand on Kalt’s chest.

Her thin fingers tickled Kalt’s chest muscles.

“…What are you doing?”

“Hey, Kalt.”

“Yes?”

“C’mon, how many times did I warn you not to suddenly swing your sword at me?”

Huh?

“Speak.”

The fingers touching his chest glimmered brightly.

Smite.

Boom!

“Ow!”

With a thud, Kalt fell to his knees.

Holding his chest while screaming, he looked up at Raniel, who smiled at him.

“I only used a tenth of my power. Don’t whine.”

“Why on earth would you hit me in the chest with Smite! What if I get hit in the solar plexus…!”

“You’re complaining after swinging a sword at your superior.”

“Didn’t you just say I’m not your superior anymore!”

Tears barely leaked out.

Kalt, coughing while gasping, looked at Raniel. She still had a smiling face, reaching out her hand.

With a flick, her slender finger touched his forehead.

“Why, should I target your head instead of your chest?”

Swallow.

Kalt gulped hard, shaking his head. Getting hit in the head would be tens of times worse than getting hit in the chest.

‘She was always like this.’

Kalt, recalling the fact he had temporarily forgotten, let a drop of tear roll down.

“Kalt.”

“Yes, Lady Raniel.”

“That shock you just felt.”

“…Yes.”

“Convey that the same way when you interrogate Mackhart.”

Kalt tilted his head.

“…But didn’t you just say he isn’t a betrayer?”

“That attitude is betrayer-like. It’s quite nasty. In my eyes, I think a bit of interrogation will be necessary.”

“Ah, yes…”

—

“Mackhart Krepfelt.”

A tired-looking Kelt approached Mackhart, who had returned from the forest.

“I’ll need you to come along as promised. You’ll be undergoing a light interrogation, so prepare yourself.”

“W-wait! Just a moment! Earlier you said Professor Rania is a betrayer or something…!”

“It was my misunderstanding.”

He shook his head briefly.

Without knowing the reason, Mackhart found himself being escorted away in handcuffs.

“What’s going on, Professor Mackhart…”

“A betrayer? You just said that…”

As he passed the whispering students, Mackhart was led to a carriage. In front of the carriage stood a girl receiving the utmost respect from the knights.

“…Professor Rania?”

“Oh, Professor Mackhart.”

She smiled warmly at him.

The meeting was brief. As Mackhart boarded the carriage, Professor Rania waved her hand.

“I’m sorry, Professor!”

…What on earth does she mean by that?

Mackhart tilted his head, then suddenly realized something.

‘Could it be that she’s apologizing for not understanding today’s lesson?’

He merely intended to give her a simple lesson.

Compared to the movements of that girl, it was a truly trivial action that it was only natural she wouldn’t understand.

‘Yet, she’s sorry for not learning.’

The warmth of a good-natured person sometimes makes even a petty human reflect on something.

“…I should be the one apologizing.”

As Mackhart muttered, he climbed into the carriage.

Soon after, the carriage began to move.

Because of this, Mackhart could not hear Professor Rania’s final words.

“But, don’t you feel sorry for me, Professor?”

That statement scattered into the air without reaching anyone.

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