Academy’s Genius Swordmaster - Chapter 73

[ 73. Balzac ]

#73

“Yes. Dominating the night world…”

Ophelia was about to say something. Wow! The floor exploded and the man covered in a sack landed in front of the two. A gloomy voice rang out.

“Where is Jarodine?”

It was an incredible pressure. There was not a single scratch on the body of the man called Balzac. I couldn’t believe it was right after I was attacked by Ophelia’s magic.

“Damn it…”

Ronan reflexively slammed the stake he was holding. Balzac, who twisted his body at a bizarre angle and evaded, swung his blade at Ronan’s neck. Sharp nails flashed like five knives.

“Ugh!”

Ronan leaned back. A pale palm glided past the bridge of his nose. Wedge! A belated gong sounded. Throwing down the stake, Ronan pulled out La Mancha.

‘strong.’

It was on a different level from the idiots who thought it was a bloody hook or something. Like the battle with Brygia, there was a chance of winning only by digging into a single gap. While exchanging sums dangerously, the nearby darkness shook and a black wolf jumped out.

“Kyaaaaa!”

“Shit.”

I thought it was pure martial arts, but it seems not. The shadow wolf lunged at Ronan head-on, revealing its black fangs. Balzac was rushing from the rear flank, which was difficult to respond to. Ronan spat out a curse and grabbed the hilt.

“Let’s try this.”

Ronan swung his sword in the direction of Balzac. It was an ultra-high-speed slash accelerated by the flow of mana. Awesome! The moment the sword was cut, the upper jaw separated from the head and the wolf lost its shape and disappeared. The first bewildered moan came from inside the sack.

“what…!”

Sensing danger, Balzac hurriedly pulled back. The distance between the two was narrow enough that the tip of the sword could not reach them. There was a risk of being counterattacked, but Ronan did not stop. You should be successful. Ronan muttered inwardly and swung his sword as if spraying.

“Get lost!”

For an instant, a shock as if being electrocuted hit Ronan. Wedge liquid! The sword spirit manifested through the sword body was shot toward Balzac’s head. Unlike before, when there was no color, it was black like blood.

“Mmm!”

Balzac hurriedly twisted his head. However, it was not a completely avoidable distance. Chew! Blood spurted out as the sack was torn obliquely. Seeing his exposed face, Ronan smirked.

“Unexpectedly, you are fine. I expected it to look like a dick for sure.”

“You are…pretty interesting.”

Balzac’s appearance was more compliant than expected. The age, estimated only by appearance, is in the late twenties at most. His features were distinct, and his hair was a dull gray like an owl’s.

The only flaws were the left eye that lost its light and the wound caused by Ronan’s sword strike. A deep cut was engraved from the corner of his right mouth to the bottom of his earlobe. Balzac murmured as he licked the blood flowing from his wound.

“How long has it been since you shed blood unintentionally?”

However, the second flaw quickly disappeared. Seeing the wound heal within seconds, Ronan spat on the floor.

“A fucking monster cub.”

“It was fine. You have to fill this emptiness.”

A crack-like smile fell on Balzac’s face. right! As he snapped his fingers in the air, the darkness shook and the same wolves as before appeared one by one. Ronan noticed that growls were coming from all over the banquet hall. There were well over twenty pairs of eyes shining in the dark.

“Could you be Jarodine?”

Balzac muttered in a maddening voice. In his hand, there was a long spear made of blood. Dark magic was enough, but he seemed to be good at using blood magic as well.

“Because I’m really unlucky…”

Ronan, who laughed, straightened up. He realized that Balzac wasn’t even using half of his power. Sheeta, sitting on Ronan’s shoulder, spread her wings and roared as if threatening.

“Ppaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”

I thought maybe the story might end here. But there was nothing much I could do.

bang! The two men grabbed their weapons and ran out. It was the moment when black and red blades were fired at each other. Ophelia appeared out of nowhere and blocked them.

“stop.”

“Shit!”

Ronan grabbed his wrist and braked suddenly. So did Balzac. The two staggered as if about to fall, straightened their posture. Balzac’s eyes widened.

“…Ophelia?”

“Even if I want to dry it in moderation, there are no birds interfering. Both of them are too wild.”

Ophelia looked at Ronan and Balzac alternately and sighed. Balzac was speechless, stuttering like a man who had met a ghost.

The wolves, who were preparing to jump, sat down all at once. Ronan exclaimed in a puzzled tone.

“Hey, what are you doing dangerously? Do not run away quickly!”

“are you okay.”

“When did you say we weren’t the ones to deal with?”

“It is, but…”

Ophelia, who had been dragging her horse, twisted her lips. Balzac opened his mouth again.

“…Ophelia. Is it really you?”

“huh. Long time no see, Balzac.”

Balzac seemed to have noticed Ophelia’s existence only then. Looking at what he couldn’t notice even in that commotion, it seemed that he was engrossed in the fight against Ronan.

“Right. The magic that just attacked me was yours…If you knew this would happen, I would gladly greet you with open arms.”

He rubbed his chin and muttered. Ophelia’s voice echoed in Ronan’s head.

[That’s why I didn’t want to deal with her.]

Ronan nodded, meeting her eyes. Ophelia continued.

“It’s still crazy. Can you please stop looking at my face?”

“It is. The fake Jarodin is unexpectedly interesting.”

Suddenly Balzac snapped his fingers. The wolves that lurk in the darkness have disappeared. It was a very futile conclusion. Ophelia let out a sigh of relief and opened her mouth.

“how have you been doing? See you in almost 80 years.”

“It’s ’83 to be exact. But what about that cute figure?”

“I adjusted it temporarily because I have to go to a human school. Because I don’t want to stand out.”

“is it. It reminds me of the time when I lived in your castle. It was fun.”

“huh. There were times like that.”

“By the way, to hear you call my name…”

Balzac, putting down his long spear, moved towards Ophelia. Shaking her head, she raised her hand.

“sorry. Please don’t come any closer.”

“Have you not forgiven me yet?”

“huh.”

“okay. do that.”

Balzac meekly stopped. Ronan frowned at his obedient attitude. He couldn’t believe that he was the opponent he had just fought with.

‘Can we be childhood friends?’

However, it bothered me that he drew a line to some extent even though he seemed intimate. Ophelia continued.

“So Balzac. Why are you here? Your level is not good enough to play with these kids.”

“I’m here to fight Jarodine Stonesong, which I couldn’t finish. Everything went wrong.”

“You also fought Jarodine. They’re both alive.”

“He was a great wizard. You don’t know how desperate I was when this fake drew his sword instead of casting a spell. ”

Balzac’s explanation continued. He had a rather unusual idea for a vampire who wanted to be stronger than anyone else. Balzac’s reason for living was to roam the world, compete with the strong, and drink their blood.

It was said that the match against Jardin took place at the western edge of the continent. It is said that the battle that began around dusk did not end until the next morning.

“With the hateful sun rising, we had no choice but to end it in a draw. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a match like that.”

He said that there are still mountains of strangely shaped rocks in the place where the fight took place. It was a trace of Jardin’s earth magic. Balzac continued in a bitter voice.

“I couldn’t find the whereabouts at all, but it just happened that these kids had a secret plan to lure them out and make them their own. He said what he was looking for was the essence of fresh blood, so I lent him one of mine.”

“what?”

Ronan’s eyes widened as he listened to the conversation. What did you borrow?

“What do you mean by lending? Was that something you could borrow?”

“Who said it was okay to interrupt the conversation? Fake Jarodin.”

“Don’t do that, Balzac. A new friend for the first time in hundreds of years.”

“Come and sit down. I can’t hear the voices from far away.”

Balzac tapped the chair made of stone. Ronan murmured softly and approached him.

“You bastard…”

“Shouldn’t you have said that earlier? If I had known you were friends with Ophelia, I wouldn’t have treated you so harshly.”

“The sword skill should have blown off the lower jaw.”

He was a guy reminiscent of Schlieffen in many ways, like his sense of self-worth that was proportional to his strength, his taste in front of a specific person, and so on. said Balzac.

“It is literally. I have three integers.”

“What’s with so many plagues? Ofelia, didn’t you say you had one?”

“huh. In most cases, none or one. Balzac is strange.”

The essence of fresh blood was a type of core created inside the body by condensing the vampire’s power. Unlike normal mana cores that can be created with only a few years of training, it was characterized by taking dozens and hundreds of years to establish itself. Balzac grumbled.

“These days, the kids didn’t even have a seat, let alone a regular one. I finished my first core at 30.”

“Because you are weird.”

“My brother has seven.”

“Then you and the Grand Duke are strange.”

There may be innate talent, but in order to increase the number or size, constant training and the struggle to overcome limitations were more important than anything else. Balzac was a vampire who met all of those conditions.

“Come to think of it, I almost forgot to recall.”

right! Suddenly Balzac snapped his fingers. A wolf came out of the darkness and grabbed Zwei by the scruff of the neck, who was lying in the corner.

“Hhhhhhhhhh!”

He struggled with his severed limbs and resisted, but in vain. The wolf threw him at Balzac’s feet and disappeared. Balzac said, grabbing Zwei by the collar and lifting him up.

“The plan failed, so the essence must be returned.”

“Wait a minute! Wait, we can still do it!” Balzac didn’t reply.

”

Puff!” His hand pierced Zwei’s chest, and a bone-chilling scream resounded throughout the banquet hall.

Balzac, who had been pulled out again, had a still beating heart in his grasp. The crimson mana he had seen earlier was surrounding the heart and flickering softly. Zwei was looking at his own heart that had been pulled out of his chest.

” Save, save…”

Kwajik! Balzac mercilessly grabbed his heart. The blood that had been pooled in it splattered in all directions, and at the same time, the body that had been struggling stretched out. Absorbed into

“tsk trash.”

Balzac tossed Zwei’s corpse as if it were a dung diaper

.

“bet?”

“Yes. I bet the essence of fresh blood. Wouldn’t it be worth trying if I had three of them?”

Balzac and Ophelia’s eyes widened. Ronan took out the things he had packed earlier and put them on the table. The parchment made from goat skin. The paper used for blood oaths. Silence fell. The tension unique to the gambling

table was hovering Finally, Balzac snorted.

“Why should I?”

“Such a fucking mosquito.”