Vol 3. Chapter 69: Strong vs. Strong

Right.

That actually reminded Vinny.

Looks like once second term of first year starts, the arena rank-snatch battles kick off. First-years get to be like the upperclassmen—see someone they don’t like, someone who rubs them wrong, or someone they think doesn’t deserve their spot, and they can try to snatch that rank.

For Vinny, that’s without a doubt another big headache. With his reputation and aggro value, you can already predict how many people will come gunning for his number.

It’ll be another real pain when the time comes—just like this class.

Still, good thing his Spirit Soul is temporarily sealed, because combat class doesn’t allow Spirit Souls anyway, so it’s no skin off his nose.

Vinny shouldered the training spear made of special material and stepped out from the crowd.

At his side, Shicodale threw a worried look his way—obviously thinking he’d just recovered from a serious illness and it wasn’t the right time to step in.

As for Isatia and Aesphyra, they were also watching Vinny, but there wasn’t the slightest worry in their eyes. If anything, they found the student trying to challenge Vinny a little funny.

“Classmate Vinny, are you willing to accept the challenge?” Knowing Vinny had an accident in the Secret Realm (Marsmo) and might not be fit to fight, the instructor specially asked for his opinion.

“No problem, Instructor,” Vinny answered offhandedly. Yet when he walked to the center of the Training Field and took on everyone’s gaze, he started looking left and right, not looking at his opponent at all—who knew what he was looking for.

“Classmate Vinny, what are you looking for?” Seeing Vinny up on the field, glancing around and not even acknowledging him—with a face that screamed distraction—the Imperial-faction male student frowned and asked.

“Nothing.” Vinny shook his head, then decided he ought to say it anyway. Handling this kind of thing one by one was way too exhausting.

Honestly, he didn’t even know why he wanted to do this; he just felt like in his current state it would work. He could pull it off.

For the record, he had zero intention of showing off. Purely because dealing with these things case by case is just too tiring.

“Instructor, class time is limited, right?” Vinny asked the female instructor watching from the side.

“Of course. How many bouts we can run depends entirely on your speed,” the instructor replied, not yet knowing what Vinny meant to say.

“Then, since that’s the case, so we don’t waste everyone’s time and more people get training—can we add a rule?” Vinny proposed.

“Add a rule??” Now it wasn’t just the instructor who didn’t get what Vinny wanted; the whole class was baffled, faces full of question marks.

“Classmate Vinny, go on—what rule?” The instructor didn’t shoot it down immediately; she asked.

She figured Vinny had just come out of the sanatorium and might still be a bit unwell, needing some special care. She didn’t expect the words that came out of Vinny’s mouth next.

“Instructor, I think we shouldn’t waste everyone’s time. Looks like a bunch of classmates want to try me. If I win, I’ll have to stay on the platform and they’ll keep challenging me. Let’s not make it complicated. Let them all come up together.” Vinny rested the spear on his shoulder, standing there with a slightly lazy air.

It was basically the same as saying: “If you can’t stand the sight of me, come up—every last one of you.”

“???” The moment he said it, not only did the instructor think she’d misheard—his classmates did too. Especially the Imperial student already on stage and those itching Imperial youths in the crowd—their expressions went from shock to a surging, burning sense of being insulted.

This lucky bastard goes to the Secret Realm (Marsmo) once and swells up like this—doesn’t recognize people anymore, doesn’t recognize his own weight class, huh??

The Imperial students were fuming. They took it as Vinny provoking them—each one itching to rush up and teach this arrogant blue-haired kid a lesson, make him lose face on the spot, and realize the gap in strength.

“Classmate Vinny, what do you mean by that?? Don’t tell me you think we’d take advantage of you?” The veins jumped in the Imperial student’s face; clearly Vinny’s words had really ticked him off.

“I just wanted to sample your skills. You say this—do you think we’d bully the few with the many??”

See? Young people can’t hide a thing—can’t hide their emotions. Too hot-blooded.

“Of course not. Classmate, that isn’t what I meant. If you took it that way, pretend I didn’t say it. Let’s begin.” Vinny also felt his words did come off a bit condescending, but he had to do it. If he didn’t show some strength, more tactless people would keep coming to make trouble.

At least in this class, that’s how it was.

That fight with Fennia before still wasn’t enough to make more people remember the lesson.

Once the instructor announced the match had begun, the Imperial student took out his best weapon—a heavy scimitar.

His family had a blade art designed specifically for that kind of heavy scimitar. If your proficiency was high enough, you were said to be unbeatable at close range—anything that came near would be chopped to bits in an instant.

He hadn’t yet mastered it, but it was more than enough to deal with a fellow student like Vinny.

He had that confidence. His family’s blade art was famous across the Tyrel Empire. And Vinny? Had Vinny ever learned any famous close-quarters forms or spear arts?

As far as he knew, no. House of Facilis hadn’t left Vinny anything; plenty of inheritances were lost.

In his eyes, Vinny couldn’t use any weapon. He just swung a scrap of iron around and whacked things—that was his so-called melee.

Against such shapeless spearwork, he figured he could break it with a casual one or two forms.

His read was spot-on: Vinny had indeed never systematically studied any close-quarters techniques or spear arts. In that area, he was a complete newbie.

“Clang, clang!” Their weapons crashed. The male student braced the back of his blade with his shoulder, climbed along it step by step, trying to shorten the gap against a mid-range weapon like the spear.

He was experienced with spear users—just tangle in like this, and he’d beaten more than he could count.

Then, in Vinny’s eyes, his opponent gripped the scimitar and spun at a dizzying speed like a windmill. The gale from that big blade felt like it was shaving the skin of his neck.

Vinny stayed unhurried. He stepped back to open space and flicked the spear up.

That plain, no-frills lift unraveled the windmill blade art. The male student felt his tiger’s mouth go numb, like he’d rammed an iron wall; the blade popped up out of line, and in the next instant the spearpoint touched his throat.

“?!” The male student still hadn’t finished spinning. For a moment, he didn’t even process that he’d already lost.

On a battlefield, who’s going to give him that much time??

“How... could...?” He stared, eyes wide. “H-How did you break my Whirlwind Blade??”

“Whirlwind Blade? Mm, it’s clever enough. But breaking it is simple: open the distance so you can’t hit me, then pick your hand. Isn’t that it?” Vinny shot back.

“You—this...?” The male student was at a loss for words.

True enough—but also... impossible, right??

That wasn’t what he was asking.

Once an enemy gets caught in his Whirlwind Blade, the huge suction keeps dragging them toward him. There’s no way to open the distance.

“H-How did you open the distance from me??” he couldn’t help blurting.

“I’m faster than you,” Vinny said, giving the simplest conclusion in the simplest words.

“I—I’m not asking that. I mean how did you react in time—?”

“My reactions are also faster than yours.” One more line from Vinny, and the rest of the student’s questions died in his throat.

Now everything he wanted to ask got swallowed back down—a feeling like he wanted to protest, but the truth was already out, and asking would only make him look like an idiot.

Yeah. If someone surpasses you across the board and the gap is huge—what technique could possibly make that up?

When raw strength crushes finesse, when your stats are outclassed by miles, all the operations and techniques are meaningless.

Even understanding how he lost made it harder to accept.

He couldn’t accept that the gap between him and Vinny was this big.

Before, he’d been thinking of waiting a bit, then challenging Vinny to seize that #23 year-rank. He believed with his strength it would be easy.

Now he’d taken a club to the head and every thought evaporated.

He still wasn’t willing; he couldn’t figure out when, or why, he of all people lost to Vinny today—that good-for-nothing playboy everyone thought learned nothing and practiced nothing??

But a loss is a loss. He could only pay up and admit defeat, then leave the field.

As for the remaining Imperial students—seeing their friend flipped and beaten in two or three moves—instantly put away their earlier contempt.

But even so, their fate didn’t change much. They came up one by one, and none lasted three exchanges before Vinny crushed them all.

Yes, Vinny hadn’t learned any proper spear art or close-quarters system. What he had was a spear craft forged in life-and-death fights—a near-instinctive skill that looked plain and artless, no fancy technique, just the most basic applications.

But with long-term training behind him, his reaction speed already steamrolled the entire year.

Classmates watched Vinny with a “ignorant no more after three days apart” feeling.

One term away, and this delinquent’s change was really that drastic??

Some already knew Vinny wasn’t weak, but they’d figured without his Spirit Soul he couldn’t be that strong. They hadn’t expected him to be this airtight.

Now, over and over, Vinny proved his strength wasn’t picked up off the ground by luck.

In Isatia’s eyes, if Vinny wanted to—at his current state, once fully recovered—he absolutely had the ability to take a top-ten rank.

Vinny stepped off the field. The next bouts were other people’s.

“Classmate Vinny, you’re amazing!” Shicodale, as always, praised him like a little fangirl at his side.

“Meh. The opponents weren’t much,” Vinny said, shaking his head as he tossed the training spear aside.

Once he came down, he noticed the way people looked at him had changed.

Sure enough, out in the world, you earn your face yourself.

He was done for now. Time to spectate.

Mm... maybe because Vinny’s level had gone up, the “watch and learn” thing wasn’t panning out. Watching his classmates trade blows on the field, Vinny felt their movements and reactions were way too slow. If it were them against Kantesius, they wouldn’t even know how many times they’d have died by now.

Watching and watching, Vinny got drowsy. These fights had zero gold content.

Just as he was thinking that, that bout ended—and then a heavyweight stepped up.

A silver-haired girl lifted the greatsword in her hand, spun a flower with it, slipped off her brown loafers, and stepped onto the Training Field—crystalline, delicate feet sheathed in sheer, tempting black stockings.

The moment they saw it was Aesphyra, quite a few students balked. Of course, not all of them—there were plenty of guys with... interesting tastes who were itching to try. Not because they thought they could beat Aesphyra, but because they wanted to be beaten by Aesphyra. They figured that would be bliss.

Mm. Let’s just say Vinny really didn’t get their world.

Those guys obviously weren’t getting the chance.

Aesphyra’s gaze turned toward a certain figure standing in the crowd. She smiled, just a little.

Then everyone, sensing something, looked toward the figure Aesphyra was watching—and that figure answered Aesphyra, walking toward the center of the Training Field under everyone’s eyes.

When they saw who it was heading for the center, the eager guys froze under that overwhelming aura. No one dared move—as if this vast Training Field was just a stage for these two girls.

...Fuck.

Vinny, who’d been nodding off, snapped awake. He knew the headliner had arrived.

Wait—they’re doing this for real??

Looking at Isatia walking toward the center, Vinny was genuinely surprised.

It was like the two of them had some tacit understanding—just one look through the crowd, and they knew exactly what the other meant.

As if nothing could block those two pairs of similar violet eyes.

Ah. What kind of relationship is this, where absolutely no one else can wedge themselves in??

“Eh? Classmate Isatia and Classmate Aesphyra?” Shicodale sounded surprised too. “So they really were arguing earlier?”

“Don’t know if it was arguing, but the two of them definitely have chemistry,” Vinny deadpanned.