The Villainous Son Loves His Mother - Chapter 40

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So far, three first-year students had advanced to the next round.
Hein and Esmeralda’s progress was understandable—they were the heirs of two of the Twelve Great Houses. While they were first-years, their advancement wasn’t entirely unprecedented. Heirs from the Twelve Great Houses routinely reached the upper ranks, and even winning the tournament wasn’t uncommon.
However, Azel Sera Alpaid’s remarkable performance had captivated the audience.

“Did you see that Azel youth? His swordsmanship was quite impressive.”

“Indeed. Count Alpaid must be proud. Who would have thought a first-year could achieve such skill?”

The nobles whispered among themselves, their eyes still searching for Azel’s figure even between matches.
Another first-year, Hein Sera Aster, had also advanced. As the heir of the House of Aster, his lineage was beyond question, but many still struggled to gauge the full extent of his abilities.
The remaining contestant was Esmeralda Ira Sarion, also a first-year student.

“I hear that Miss Esmeralda is the most talented member of the Duke of Sarion in recent years…”

“Hmm, well, she may be a little plain, but it’s not a family that requires skill with the sword. It’s impressive that a woman can come this far with such slender arms.”

Such whispers circulated through the crowd, but Esmeralda herself watched the match with a restless air.

(Next, I’ll face Lord Hein.)

The thought sent a tight knot forming deep in her chest.
She knew she stood no chance of winning, and that didn’t particularly bother her.
What she hated was being judged solely on her swordsmanship, a skill she wasn’t particularly confident in.

(Still, is there a way around this?)

By “way around,” she meant using her magical power.
Naturally, magic was strictly prohibited in the swordsmanship tournament.
However, this didn’t mean one couldn’t use magical power at all.
Instead of channeling it externally to form magic, using it internally to enhance physical abilities wasn’t considered cheating.
Yet this was far more difficult than even clumsy magic—it was akin to holding a glass blindfolded and precisely measuring the water being poured into it.
If too much magical power flowed, the body couldn’t withstand the strain of the enhancement, potentially leading to death.
But if too little was used, its effectiveness would be questionable.
Moreover, the greater the enhancement, the harder it became to control one’s body.
It wasn’t uncommon for someone to shatter the ground beneath their feet when trying to run, or to lose balance and slam face-first into the ground.
This technique of containing magical power within the body, rather than releasing it externally, was called Celestial Art, in contrast to magic.

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And so, I found myself facing Miss Esmeralda in a match.
Naturally, I hadn’t forgotten a single word of Mother’s teachings.
Miss Esmeralda was a prodigy who had swiftly grasped the brilliance of Mother’s decision to teach at the Academy. However, that aside, if we fought properly, the match would end as quickly as the previous “Far-something” girl—that inferior female.
Therefore, I decided to let her have the first move.

“Miss Esmeralda, I’ll let you go first. It seems like there were some inferior… no, fools… no, well, idiots in the last match who didn’t understand what I did at all. I decided that a few exchanges would be necessary. You should make the most of this good fortune to learn from someone as superior as me.”

I offered Miss Esmeralda a word of encouragement.
It might sound self-serving, but I suppose I have a soft spot for those I see potential in. I tend to be lenient with them.
Whether she was moved by my words or not, Miss Esmeralda’s face flushed crimson as she leveled her sword with a sharp glint in her eyes.
Her stance… hmm. It resembled the Rishin-style Ancient Thrusting Swordsmanship. A reckless, all-or-nothing form that disregarded defense. Hardly the refined art one would expect from a noble, but perhaps she was staking everything on a single strike.
The tip of her blade aimed straight for my heart. Her magical power seemed concentrated in her arm. She intended to overwhelm me with raw force rather than technique, hoping to catch me off guard.
I had expected her to employ more cunning tactics, but she proved surprisingly straightforward, or perhaps simply bold.

“…I don’t dislike that kind of thing. It’s not easy to commit your entire body and soul to the very first move. By the way, Miss Esmeralda, do you happen to practice any ancient Eastern sword arts? If so—”

I spread my arms slightly and said,

“—Dēil=Vāiīn Dāvai (Come at me).”

This was a dueling phrase passed down from the East.
I thought I was being rather stylish and considerate.
It’s probably this sort of thing that makes me soft, I suppose…