Sword Emperor, Becoming the Young Lady of a Viscount House

Chapter 55: The Order That Takes Charge (2)

A duel, of all things.

At that sudden proclamation, Luce blinked blankly.

"Me, me?"

"Yes! You! I cannot understand why you're ranked higher than me, so accept the duel!"

Luce was flustered.

He had always adhered to the principle of avoiding fights unless absolutely necessary.

"Well, uh, if that's the problem... I'll yield. You can take the third rank."

It was a remark characteristic of Luce’s meekness.

Naturally, it wasn't something Clone could accept.

No, in fact, that statement only made him angrier.

"A man, and yet you know nothing of honor?"

In that moment, the duel, which had begun half in jest, gained a "justification."

In the end, Argos, unable to watch any longer, stepped in to intervene.

"Clone. We have a promise to keep with Beatrice."

Clone, his eyes wild like a beast's, growled.

"Even Beatrice can make mistakes. From her perspective, it might all look the same."

"...That's why I'm saying I'll yield the rank."

Luce spoke with exasperation.

To him, being third or fifth rank seemed childish and insignificant.

It held no real meaning.

"...Fine, Luce said he’ll yield. Clone, calm down, and let’s move on."

"Not a chance."

Just as Argos was trying to pacify the situation, Gareth, amused, chuckled and intervened.

"The rules of Torze Officer Academy fundamentally revolve around competition."

"……."

"In any situation, aren’t duels allowed?"

"That’s..."

Argos was at a loss for words.

Rules. Nothing was stronger than justification rooted in them. After all, they were cadets assigned to the academy under the Crown Prince's orders.

"I’ll act as the referee."

"Hey, you stick of a man! Stop stalling and pick up your sword!"

Argos rubbed his forehead.

He was intelligent enough to understand why Beatrice had entrusted him with this role.

‘This isn’t good.’

He wanted to stop it.

But there was no justification to prevent this duel.

‘…There’s no choice.’

…Besides, it didn’t seem like they’d listen even if he tried.

"Ha-ha-ha! Don’t wet yourself in fear!"

Clone drew a massive greatsword that matched his size.

Though real swords were forbidden, this one, made of wood, was enormous.

Even a single hit could easily break a bone or two.

"...Sigh."

Luce let out a deep sigh.

He drew the sword hanging at his waist and aimed it.

Unlike Clone, who was burning with determination, Luce's demeanor exuded pure reluctance.

Argos suddenly found himself questioning something.

‘Why did Beatrice name Luce as the third rank?’

No one had ever seen Luce fight properly.

He had only briefly displayed his skills during a match that separated winners from losers. Argos recalled that Luce had easily won that duel, but the memory of how he did it was vague, overshadowed by his lack of presence.

Well, they’d see soon enough.

"Hyrah!"

Clone swung his sword recklessly as he leaped into the air.

A swordsman jumping into the air—it was the worst decision possible.

By doing so, he became a stationary target, giving his opponent an opening for a counterattack.

But Argos knew better.

Having experienced it firsthand, he realized...

That move was a bit tricky to handle.

-Boom!

The sound was nothing like what a wooden sword should produce.

The ground bore another massive crater.

It was a display of monstrous strength.

To produce such power without the aid of a spirit was excessive.

"Hmph-!"

Luce evaded Clone’s strike without making any significant movement.

Clone, undeterred, prepared for his next attack, his solid muscles rippling with tension.

-Swoosh!

Clone's greatsword sliced through the air.

Luce narrowly avoided it by bending his back halfway.

"You rat-like coward!"

Clone thought, indeed, this one fights as weakly as he looks.

No matter. Clone was skilled in catching rats.

-Bang!

"What are you doing! Face me like a man!"

"Why, why are you going this far...!"

Luce was busy running away.

He hopped backward in quick steps, barely evading Clone’s strikes.

His cheek stung.

Even though Clone’s attacks hadn’t directly landed, this was the effect.

Luce instinctively realized.

Even though it was a sparring match, and not with real swords...

Getting hit meant death.

"Fine! Looks like you’re finally willing to fight properly!"

Luce finally took a proper stance.

He had planned to deal with it casually, but now he realized his opponent wasn’t to be taken lightly.

Clone was on a different level from the cadets who had challenged him before.

Clone grinned, lowering his stance.

"Don’t think for a moment that this man, Clone, has shown his true strength to a weakling like you."

"...Enough talk. Just come at me. Let’s end this quickly."

Luce furrowed his eyebrows.

His naturally gentle features didn’t make him look very threatening.

"Ha-ha-ha! Who will end whom, I wonder!"

With boisterous laughter, Clone’s massive frame charged forward.

Luce lightly bit his lower lip and let his right arm hang limply.

It was a peculiar stance.

To anyone watching, it seemed reckless.

However, Luce's eyes betrayed no hesitation.

"Die!"

Clone charged like a rhinoceros, swinging his sword.

His booming voice shook the air itself.

But then.

"You die."

-Thwack!

"Urgh...!"

Beatrice appeared and struck Clone square in the solar plexus.

Clone’s body crumpled and fell limp.

**

"I’m disappointed in all of you."

Beatrice placed her hands on her hips, her face etched with displeasure.

Of course, her extraordinarily beautiful features made her look more adorable than intimidating, but the cadets couldn’t bear to meet her gaze.

Especially not the fifth-ranked cadet.

"Argos!"

"...I’m sorry."

-Snap!

Beatrice took his tie and wore it herself.

"You caused trouble the moment I left the scene?"

Argos looked ashamed.

He bit down hard on his teeth.

Yet he offered no excuses.

He believed he was partly to blame for failing to maintain control.

Beatrice, slightly mollified by his attitude, reflected for a moment.

‘I misjudged?’

Argos's leadership had been highly regarded.

In fact, when they first arrived here, he had naturally taken on the role of a leader.

It seemed like a good fit.

That’s why he had been entrusted with the task, believing he could lead the cadets without issue.

‘I thought he would become a solid central figure.’

But not even half a day had passed before trouble arose: a conflict among the instructors.

Of course, Beatrice wasn’t entirely unaware of the situation.

The Luce she had assessed was meek and quiet by nature.

He wasn’t someone who would pick a fight first.

Most likely, Clone had forced the duel upon him.

Still, a problem was a problem.

“Do you think I created this system just to torment you?”

Beatrice had intentionally divided them into tiers.

Beyond winners and losers, she had separated the top five ranks from the rest.

The purpose of this division was to stimulate a desire for upward mobility while making movement between ranks possible.

Her hope was that the cadets would be motivated to work hard of their own accord.

But it was never meant to escalate into infighting within the same rank.

That would be utterly pointless.

Whether Luce or Clone got hurt, one of them would inevitably be seriously injured if they fought.

Not only that, but observing such a duel might lead other cadets to think, "Oh, even if I work hard enough to get into the top five, I’ll still have to compete endlessly."

In other words, witnessing such sparring might result in either vicarious satisfaction or fear, diminishing their desire to climb the ranks.

It wasn’t as though Beatrice had no foresight.

[Oh, so there was such a profound reason behind it?]

‘Why would I bother tormenting cadets?’

[Given how difficult young Beatrice is by nature, I assumed it was purely for your own satisfaction.]

‘…….’

Well, that wasn’t entirely wrong.

In the end, even though she acted in the cadets’ interest, it was also for herself.

To make things even slightly more manageable on the battlefield.

Right now, her wrist ached, so she wanted to maintain authority in other ways to avoid trouble.

In any case.

Beatrice had no intention of abandoning her plan.

‘I’ll restore discipline.’

“Gareth, step forward.”

She decided to employ a slightly harsher method.

This method...

…could appear extreme, depending on the perspective.

Beatrice addressed Gareth directly.

“From now on, you’re the first rank.”

“Ugh.”

“Argos is too soft for the position.”

By overturning the ranking, she demonstrated that beyond simple duels, one needed to follow her commands to achieve a top-five rank.

It was a clear way of imprinting on the cadets who truly held power here.

Of course.

Argos probably wouldn’t feel great about it.

“A wise choice, Beatrice. You won’t regret selecting me.”

“Indeed. Even if you’re a schemer, it also means you’re smart. Isn’t it true that the worst people are best at bad deeds?”

“…How long are you going to keep calling me a schemer?”

‘What else would I call a schemer, if not a schemer…’

But Gareth seemed quite dissatisfied with the label.

Beatrice smiled softly and replied.

“If you have complaints, prove yourself this time. Show that you’re not just cunning.”

Beatrice was solely focused on results.

**

Before returning to her quarters, Beatrice stopped by Reiser.

The reason was simple.

“Hand it over.”

“…Um, it’s scheduled to be distributed tomorrow…”

“Hand it over.”

…Beatrice was clearly not the type to savor things patiently.

After half-seizing a Mana Heart, she stealthily headed to her room.

-Creak, thud.

She meticulously locked the door before crawling into bed.

Pulling the blanket over her head, Beatrice swallowed nervously.

The radiant ruby-like gem looked incredibly tempting.

[…This time, take it slowly. You’ll get sick.]

“I planned to, but seeing it in person makes it hard to resist.”

[You were lucky last time, young Beatrice! If you swallow it whole again—]

-Gulp!

[Damn it. Even if it’s divine advice, why don’t you ever listen?!]

‘Don’t scold me too much. It was hard this time. This is my reward to myself.’

In short, she believed she deserved it.

The recent monster subjugation had been a grueling ordeal.

Even now, the thought of what might have happened if they hadn’t discovered the witch early sent chills down her spine.

At any rate, Beatrice consumed the Mana Heart in one go and began circulating the mana.

“Ah… bitter.”

It felt like downing a bottle of strong liquor in one gulp.

Her insides churned, and the bitterness lingered.

-Springing up.

Unable to endure the heat, she jumped out of bed.

-Swish.

She grabbed her sword.

The space was narrow, but her small stature allowed her to swing her sword within the confines of the room.

As she performed her sword dance, she thought to herself.

‘I’ve delayed for too long. While raising the cadets’ level is important, the most crucial thing is still…’

Her own strength.

To put it bluntly, the cadets could turn on her at any moment.

Right now, they were under tight control.

But it was only temporary.

Would they prioritize her orders over the Crown Prince’s or their family heads’ outside this place?

Ultimately, the only thing she could truly rely on was her own ability.

[What are you doing, wasting the Mana Heart?!]

Solid exclaimed in shock.

Sitting still and practicing internal techniques would already be insufficient, yet here she was practicing swordsmanship?

Dispersing her focus like that made it impossible to fully harness the Mana Heart’s energy.

‘I’m just creating a path today.’

[W-Wait. What are you planning?! This will only shorten your lifespan! It’s far too early for this!]

‘Quiet down from now on. I need to concentrate.’

Beatrice continued, tirelessly swinging her sword.

Sometimes slowly. Sometimes quickly.

Her sword dance was irregular and appeared to lack any pattern.

And that was Beatrice.

The swordsmanship that made her the Sword Emperor.

It had no name.

She didn’t have time to call out techniques in the heat of battle.

[Oh, Aura Blade… I-It’s impossible. How could young Beatrice…?]

Aura Blade.

The defining standard of a Sword Master.

It wasn’t simply about the amount of mana; one had to understand the essence of the sword to reach this state.

She attempted it—

-Buzz.

And succeeded.

“…I’m sleepy.”

For just one second.

-Thud.

[…Hey, are you asleep?]

Only the empty question of a bewildered Solid remained as Beatrice lost consciousness.