The Academy’s Hard-Headed Swordmaster

A fist flashed, and teeth flew through the air.

The Art Department students, struck at an invisible speed, could only clutch their throbbing jaws and scream.

“Uuugh—!!”

Watching them bleed from their mouths and tear up like… well, not men, I smiled gently.

“Don’t worry. It’s free.”

“Guh— Y-you ba-! You won’t ge’ away wi’ thith!”

“Oh, your speech is fine. Seems like missing a few teeth isn’t a problem.”

“Crazy bastard…!”

The guy, Murdock or whatever his name was, didn’t even bother picking up his teeth and started running away.

The other students, who had followed him and received the same dental work, also fled like mad.

Watching them run off without their teeth, I tilted my head, wondering if they weren’t necessary in this fantasy world.

‘Ah, there’s saliva.’

I tried to avoid direct contact as much as possible, but it was inevitable that some saliva would get on my hands when punching mouths.

Not only saliva but also bits of blood from their busted lips were smeared on my hand.

I tried to shake it off, but the sticky mess wouldn’t budge. I frowned slightly, staring at the back of my hand.

“Here.”

“Ah, thanks.”

Seeing my grimace, Aria, who had been standing behind me, carefully offered her handkerchief.

I wiped off the blood and saliva, making my hand somewhat presentable.

It still felt icky, though.

I’d have to scrub it thoroughly as soon as I got back to the dormitory.

“What was that about? Those guys.”

“They’re students from the same department.”

“You can do that to students in the same department?”

“Isn’t it natural for nobles to look down on commoners? Is it different in the Knight Department?”

“Not to this extent.”

Remembering the recent terrorist incident at the Academy, and how some of the Knight Department students involved were commoners, I couldn’t confidently say such things didn’t happen there.

Just because I was a noble didn’t mean discrimination didn’t exist. It was practically impossible for it not to.

However, it was usually limited to subtle discrimination, not outright physical harm just for being a commoner.

‘If anyone did that, the instructors would be the first to whip them for being unknightly.’

They wouldn’t stop a beating during a duel, even if it was due to social status. Lack of skill was a sin in itself for a knight.

But the Art Department seemed different.

“Shall we walk?”

“Sure.”

Aria said so and started walking ahead.

Humming a tune with her hands clasped behind her back, she casually spoke about the Art Department’s issues.

“The Art Department—the name makes it sound like it’s full of beautiful, artistic people… but actually, those artistic types are the most eccentric.”

“Is that so?”

“Just look at me. Where else would you find a commoner who boldly asks a noble to be friends on their first meeting?

Outside, I would’ve been beheaded on the spot. Or maybe I would’ve become a plaything since I’m pretty?”

She chuckled. Looking at her, I thought that she was indeed too beautiful to simply behead.

If a noble had the power of life and death over her… or even if they didn’t, they could easily frame her and make her a slave.

“Anyway, most of them are eccentric, and… art is expensive.

So most of them are nobles. Nobles who love their hierarchies. The self-proclaimed blue bloods.”

And there she was, dropped right in the middle of them. The Academy protected her, but her commoner status was a constant noose around her neck.

I finally understood why she had been so friendly to me from the start. A noble who was kind to commoners. A seemingly unbelievable existence. She must have wanted my protection.

“Aria.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like singing?”

“I do. If I didn’t like singing, how could I survive in this place?”

“That’s good. I like your singing too.”

“—Uh, uh? …Since when?”

“Since I first heard it earlier?”

At my words, Aria fidgeted, embarrassed. It was understandable to be shy about being praised so directly.

But I was sincere. Her singing was truly captivating. Enough to make me want to hear it again and again.

“You like singing. I’m glad.”

“Y-yes. Thank you.”

“—I’ll solve your problem.”

“How? You’re a noble, but so are the others. Even just dealing with the aftermath of what happened today…”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

We had arrived in front of the dormitory. I saw Aria inside and turned around. It was time to visit a friend.

A sleeping dragon within the Art Department.

* * *

In the distance, Kyle walked away. Aria watched him go, then cautiously headed to her own dormitory.

In front of her door lay used contraceptives and food waste.

She was a public enemy in the Art Department, attracting not only the unwanted attention of noblemen but also the jealousy of noblewomen.

Aria sighed and asked a cleaning staff member to take care of the mess before entering her room. Thankfully, they hadn’t been able to get inside, so her room was clean.

‘This is exhausting.’

She loved singing.

That’s why she entered the Academy.

She had the talent and the skill to be accepted.

However—the Academy was a far more insidious and sinister place than she had imagined.

Living as a commoner here, where most students were nobles, was as dangerous as a prostitute walking through the slums alone, adorned with expensive jewelry.

Amidst the constant scorn and harassment from the nobles, only one treated her differently.

Kyle Meyer.

The only noble who hadn’t changed his attitude after learning she was a commoner.

‘Kyle, Kyle….’

Hugging her pillow tightly, she shivered as she recalled what had happened earlier that day.

The way he protected her from those obnoxious nobles, the way he didn’t hesitate to throw punches, even if it meant sullying his own reputation and possibly his person.

What woman wouldn’t be moved by such a sight?

‘All nobles are trash, but you’re an exception, Kyle.’

With that thought, she drifted off to sleep, wondering how he planned to solve her problems.

The next day, Kyle presented a solution far beyond anything she could have imagined.

“—Nice to meet you. I’m Bellion Dyros.”

“Uh… Your Highness?”

“Everyone is equal within the Academy, right? Just call me Bellion.”

The Third Prince, Bellion Dyros, had come to see her.

Aria stared at Bellion with slightly trembling eyes, then nodded, composing herself.

“Did Kyle send you?”

“That’s right. Kyle asked me to come.”

“…It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bellion.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Aria.”

This situation, where a mere commoner was on friendly terms with a prince—most nobles couldn’t comprehend it.

They stared at Bellion with bewildered expressions, but none dared to question him directly.

Furthermore, the harassment directed at Aria decreased.

If they insulted or threw trash at a commoner who was associating with the prince, and he happened to witness it?

That would be direct disrespect to the Imperial Family.

None of them wanted to take that risk just to harass Aria. Naturally, the torment subsided.

Aria hadn’t believed Kyle could actually solve the problem. He was a noble, but not a particularly famous or politically powerful one.

‘As expected of Kyle…’

But it seemed she had misjudged him.

Aria smiled brightly as she prepared for the upcoming Cultural Festival.

Although she was still alone, still ostracized, except for Bellion—the absence of harassment gave her a much-needed mental and physical reprieve.

After some time, Bellion, feeling he had done enough, naturally distanced himself from Aria.

Simultaneously, the nobles, as if waiting for this moment, resumed their subtle, insidious harassment.

The kind that was difficult to report and get them punished for.

“Ha.”

She finally realized that her initial assessment had been correct.

All nobles were trash. They deserved to die.

And so, the Cultural Festival began.

* * *

Time flew by after the exams.

I spent my days sparring with club members, dating Yuri, exploring the Academy with Sera, and training with Arthur.

Aria was busy preparing for the Cultural Festival, so I hadn’t seen her much.

I asked Bellion about it later, and he said he had resolved most of the issues she was facing, so I wasn’t too worried.

‘This is bad.’

The Cultural Festival was just a few days away, and I was lost in thought, a serious expression on my face.

Arthur, noticing my troubled demeanor, tilted her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well… the Cultural Festival is coming up soon, right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if Aria sings too well?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Well, right now, she’s a super-talented singer that only I know about, but if she becomes popular at the Cultural Festival, everyone will know her.”

Of course, I wanted many students to appreciate her singing, but a selfish part of me wanted to keep her talent a secret.

Arthur let out a chuckle after hearing my concerns.

“Kyle, do you know what people like you are called?”

“What?”

“A hipster.”

“…Ah.”