Sword Emperor, Becoming the Young Lady of a Viscount House

Chapter 24: Winners and Losers (1)

“Dammit! I can’t take it anymore!”

-Bang!

In the room where the losers had gathered, a noble struck the wall with his fist, fuming with anger.

“Is this even fair? We’re nobles! And yet we’re being treated worse than dogs!”

“What can we do about it?”

A man leaning against the corner, looking defeated, began to speak.

“It’s an order from His Highness, the Crown Prince, after all.”

“…There’s supposed to be a line. Even if losers are expected to stay silent, this has gone too far. It’s blatant!”

The sixteen nobles didn’t say it aloud, but inwardly, they all agreed.

It was extreme.

Being ordered around was one thing.

But they were being treated as if they were mere servants, even being given pitiful meals.

Thin stew with faint traces of meat and leftovers from what the winners didn’t finish.

They were being served leftovers, and as nobles, their anger was nearly at its breaking point.

“I don’t care.”

“You can say that after enduring this humiliation?”

“If you’re upset, just become a winner. Pathetic.”

A large man sneered as he spoke.

“And weren’t you defeated, too? That’s why you’re here, right?”

“I just picked the wrong opponent. I wanted to see how strong the infamous Argos really was.”

The man’s name was Clone.

With his massive physique, he had a penchant for seeking out strong opponents.

That’s why he challenged Argos—because he seemed like the strongest.

Of course, he was thoroughly defeated.

“Hah. In the end, you’re no different from the rest of us, cast aside by your family.”

“Do you think I’m the same as you?”

Clone stood up, hands in his pockets.

“How foolish. Sitting there blaming others while wallowing in misery—I’m fundamentally different from you.”

“You bastard! What did you just say?”

“I’m saying stop sulking and find a way to turn things around.”

“…What?”

“Are you just going to stay like this?”

Clone had a straightforward personality.

To him, this Torze Military Academy was full of interesting aspects.

‘The winner takes all.’

Nothing could sound more appealing.

Clone flexed his bulging muscles and shouted loudly.

“Fight! Fight and take what you want. If you win, everything will fall into place.”

Although he shouted enthusiastically, unfortunately, no one joined him.

Everyone looked at him as if he were an alien.

Still, to ease the awkwardness, one noble offered a response.

“Most of us here are weaklings. Even if we spar again, nothing will change.”

Clone snorted loudly.

“Then just stay hidden in here like a coward for the rest of your life.”

“You bastard…!”

“I’m off. I’m going to become a winner. Hahaha!”

-Bang!

He smashed the door with his fist and stormed out.

Even though the door was made of wood, breaking it with a punch wasn’t easy.

The nobles inside stared, dumbfounded.

“How on earth did someone like that lose?”

“Well, Argos is Argos, even if he’s rusted. But, still… that idiot isn’t completely wrong. We can’t live like this.”

One of the remaining nobles, Gareth, scanned the room as he spoke.

“Some of us here could use our skills to defeat weaker opponents and become winners.”

From the beginning, the distinction between winners and losers wasn’t purely based on skill.

Some lost because they had bad matchups, while others were simply unlucky.

So, while a few might rise, most would remain stuck.

“With effort, it’s possible. From what I saw during the duels earlier, only a few of them were overwhelmingly skilled.”

After all, most of them had been cast aside by their families.

Exceptional families naturally had high standards, so their base skills were good, but most families were ordinary.

The nobles dragged into this academy were mostly untalented.

“Even for me, I could beat someone from the winner’s side and rise immediately.”

For the record, Gareth had lost due to bad luck.

He challenged someone who looked weak for a duel.

He couldn’t even remember the name of his opponent, but when they fought, it turned out that person was unexpectedly strong.

So Gareth was confident he could grab someone weaker from the winner’s side and take them down.

However,

“I just can’t stand those guys. They’re in the same situation as us, yet they haven’t raised a single complaint against that damn knight. They’re acting like they’re winners. They think they have nothing to do with us.”

He didn’t like the winners.

Even if it was the rule, how could they not protest?

Instead, they bossed them around like servants.

And this was only half a day since they had been admitted.

In short, he wanted to teach them a lesson.

“Are you saying you want revenge on them?”

“Exactly.”

Gareth nodded.

“It’s impossible to deal with all of them, but I want to knock down most of them.”

“…But how? Even if some of us can take down a few of the weaker ones, that won’t be the majority.”

“It’s simple.”

Gareth spoke as if it were nothing.

“Tonight, we launch an ambush.”

His tone was as casual as if he were suggesting a walk.

“…An ambush?”

The others looked at Gareth in shock.

An ambush?

What kind of disgraceful act was that?

“No matter how bad things are, an ambush is dishonorable. Shouldn’t we look for a fair way to win…”

“There’s no such way. And even if there were, it would involve purely improving our abilities. But we’re here for less than a month. There’s no way to drastically improve in that time. If we had that kind of talent, we wouldn’t even be here.”

Gareth’s words struck a chord in the nobles’ hearts.

Each statement was a harsh truth.

“You think it’s improper for nobles to think like this, but they’re the ones who struck first. If they hadn’t treated us like this, I wouldn’t even be considering this.”

Gareth began his full-on persuasion.

When engaging in immoral acts or compromising one’s conscience, it was essential to establish a justification.

“Don’t you all think it’s too much? It makes my blood boil. How can they silently agree to such treatment when we’re all in the same boat?”

And Gareth’s justification worked.

“Yeah, it’s all their fault.”

“They should’ve known better.”

“They’ve gone too far. There’s no lie in what he’s saying. They clearly crossed the line first.”

“…But wouldn’t it be better to wait a few days and see? An ambush should be a last resort…”

Gareth drove the final nail.

“Do you think they’re idiots?”

“…What?”

“If not today, there won’t be another chance. If we don’t act now, they’ll prepare.”

And that was a highly persuasive point.

“…Is that so?”

“You all know how important it is to establish a good position early. If you become a winner, you can use various strategies to maintain your place. Didn’t you hear that arrogant knight earlier? Winners have the authority to command losers outside of combat situations.”

‘If we even take their weapons, what could they possibly do?’

That’s what Gareth thought.

In any situation, securing the upper hand was crucial.

But the current winners hadn’t truly secured anything.

They were simply winners by chance.

They hadn’t laid out any proper plans.

They’d likely just relax and grow complacent.

If that was the case, gaining a true advantage through proactive action was most likely to happen after a major shift.

Then, Gareth didn’t have to persuade them so extensively.

For now, he addressed everyone.

“So, tonight, in the late hours, we’ll subdue them while they sleep. If you disagree, speak now. That person can live the rest of their life as a loser, but let’s remember their face for future reference.”

**

“Cold tea? Beatrice, you’re peculiar. From the beginning until now, there’s not been a single ordinary thing about you.”

“Do you want to try some?”

After finishing their meal, they sat down for tea time.

It was a privilege of the winners. Beatrice had resolved once again not to hold back her abilities, even for something as small as this tea time.

“…Is it good? I’ve never had cold tea before.”

Argos stared at Beatrice’s tea with curious eyes.

Tea with ice floating in it was an alien concept to him.

“It’s delicious.”

Beatrice swallowed her tea with a quiet exhale.

Then, she handed her half-finished cup to Argos.

“Try it.”

“…Excuse me, then.”

Argos accepted the cup, his gaze a mixture of distrust and curiosity.

After hesitating briefly, he took a small sip.

“Ugh.”

He frowned deeply, his expression showing clear displeasure.

Making a face as if he’d tasted something terrible, he handed the tea back to Beatrice.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

“Damn, why would anyone drink this? It’s not tea; it’s trash.”

“Calling someone’s drink trash? That’s truly a trashy remark.”

Unbothered, she continued to enjoy her tea.

Argos watched her in wonder.

The cold tea had no particular flavor, only an unpleasant chill. He couldn’t understand how she enjoyed it.

After all, wasn’t tea an aromatic drink meant to be savored?

“Ha, I never thought I’d be living like this in the capital.”

“You’re right. At first, I had a lot of complaints, but it’s not bad.”

“I think I’m living better here than I did with my family.”

“Exactly. At home, we were always walking on eggshells.”

“…You too?”

“Me too.”

The winners enjoyed their tea time, chatting idly.

Most of their conversations were about how well they were being treated.

There didn’t seem to be any major complaints.

Beatrice looked at the laughing and chatting nobles with a pitiful gaze.

‘Even though Reiser warned them, they’re all lost in their fantasies.’

She couldn’t entirely blame them.

Raised as nobles, they likely never expected underhanded tactics.

Those born into privilege often lacked a sense of urgency. How could they fear falling when they’d never been at the bottom before?

‘Well, it’s not my problem.’

Beatrice had no intention of getting involved.

She could help them by convincing the cadets to prepare thoroughly for the ambush.

But she intentionally refrained from doing so.

‘If I intervene, it defeats the purpose of the training.’

After all, this was an education system designed for war.

As someone heading to the battlefield herself, she preferred that the others sharpen their skills as much as possible.

She only hoped they would learn on their own.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

-Knock, knock.

“A guest has arrived. I’ll come in.”

-Creak.

The nobles enjoying their peaceful tea time all turned toward the door with puzzled expressions.

Beatrice, who initially paid no attention, glanced up as she finished her tea.

…She was planning to ask for a refill.

“You are?”

It was Argos who spoke first. His eyes widened slightly.

Beatrice stared at Clone carefully, and her memory clicked.

‘He’s the one who dueled Argos.’

She remembered because he was peculiar.

Clone’s massive frame and his well-defined muscles made him stand out.

They weren’t the kind of oversized muscles that came from mindless bulking but rather those born from pure training and natural physique.

“You don’t look like a guest.”

The nobles seemed hesitant and wary.

Clone spoke roughly.

“Someone, fight me!”

“……”

His abrupt challenge brought an awkward silence.

‘Well, with his skills, he could defeat anyone here and move up.’

Even in a world with magic and mana, the disparity in physical size wasn’t something to ignore.

Clone had a solid physique, and Beatrice believed that if he hadn’t fought Argos, he would have already become a winner.

Others were well aware of this fact, too.

No one wanted to fight Clone.

The nobles quietly exchanged glances, gauging the situation.

“Reiser, what should I do in this situation? No one seems willing to fight me.”

Clone slumped his shoulders, looking dejected.

“There’s no need to worry. Duels have no restrictions, so you can simply designate your opponent.”

“But that’s no fun. Isn’t there anyone who wants to fight like a man?”

At that moment, Argos flinched as he instinctively raised his hand.

Beatrice quickly jabbed him in the side and shook her head.

‘Those who should rise must rise.’

Argos had already beaten Clone once.

The outcome likely wouldn’t change in a rematch.

However, someone like Clone, who confidently sought a duel, showed promise.

If he didn’t rise, who else could deserve it?

As she decided to quietly observe,

“Ah. Just to clarify, not you, kid.”

Clone suddenly looked at Beatrice as he spoke.

“…?”

Beatrice, who had no intention of fighting, raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I can’t trample over a lady to move up. Besides, you barely come up to my waist.”

-Twitch.

Beatrice’s brow twitched.

‘How amusing.’

He really shouldn’t have said that.

Beatrice wasn’t the type to avoid a provocation.