I Became the Teacher of the Imperial Family’s Bastard

073. Cadet (4)

No one saw how Yuren made his way to the center of the arena.

No one could fathom how he blocked that sword.

It was only natural.

To be at that level, one would need to at least bear the title of Sword Master or possess the talent to reach it, and neither Drenor nor Kallios were present.

Silence.

Some were in disbelief, some in anger, and others in intrigue.

As they closed their mouths, silence filled the space where hundreds had gathered.

The first to react was Milliam, whose sword path was blocked by Yuren.

“So, so, Lord… What is this…”

“Shut up.”

Boom―!

Milliam was slammed to the ground.

Once again, no one could grasp Yuren’s movement.

Milliam writhed in pain.

But Yuren, looking down at him, was extremely cold.

It must have been the silence.

The words he quietly uttered were clearly heard throughout the space.

“I had some expectations. After all, it’s a school that gathers the so-called best in the Empire. An institution directly involved with the royal family. But I’m disappointed. Even if the students’ level is understandable, is this the right level of management?”

Those present realized a moment too late that Yuren’s gaze was very fierce.

As if he was barely holding back his rising anger.

Tension began to press down on the space.

The meaning of Yuren Pharos being angry was clear.

“Where should I start and where should I stop? I can’t quite grasp it.”

An accident was bound to happen.

His rogue nature had been triggered.

Drug addict.

In other words, someone had cheated.

It didn’t take long for the audience to realize that.

So who could it be?

Most likely, it was that Milliam.

The words that pointed out the organizers also indicated the lack of transparency in this competition.

The audience was mostly nobles or wealthy commoners.

There was no one so dull as to not know that much.

Yuren stomped on Milliam’s head.

It was at that moment.

“Pa, Pharos Young Master! What is this outrage!!!”

Someone stood up and shouted.

A middle-aged man with a thin build, short stature, and a distinctive goatee was Viscount Whitten, a noble of the 2nd Prince’s faction… to be precise, the faction of Duke Estre.

With a reddened face, he added, pointing his finger.

“This is a sacred competition hosted by the royal family! Not only did you barge in, but you also made a player look like that! Do you think His Majesty will just sit back and watch this!”

“Hey.”

From noble mtl dot com

Whoosh!

“Ugh…!”

Yuren’s grip tightened around his neck.

Soon, Yuren spoke to him with gleaming eyes.

“You don’t know your place, you son of a b*tch. What about His Majesty? Look at this b*stard who deserves to be torn to pieces. Do you think I came out here without any thought?”

“Guh…!”

“I’ll deal with you later, so stay put there. Where do you think you’re raising your voice, you b*stard who doesn’t even know his place.”

“Grrr…!”

Viscount Whitten’s body began to tremble violently.

His eyes rolled back, and tears and snot smeared his face.

Foam even frothed at his mouth.

Yuren achieved this solely by strangling with murderous intent.

The nobles in the vicinity began to distance themselves from him.

It wasn’t just because of his filthy appearance.

Yuren’s words carried a clear sense of purpose.

The thought that they should not get close to him filled the nobles’ minds.

How foolish to mention the royal family in front of the Grand Chancellor.

Was it because his judgment was clouded by the thought that his trickery had been discovered?

Even so, the stupidity remained the same.

The nobles, now mere spectators, inwardly mocked him to their heart’s content.

In the midst of this, Yuren spoke to the school’s faculty.

“You are also the problem. Didn’t you notice that the students you taught were struggling? Didn’t you think something was different from usual?”

The faculty collectively fell silent.

Those who thought it was just a condition were complacent, and those involved in the matter were terrified.

“Do you claim to be the best in the empire while running things like this? Do you claim to be teachers?”

The faculty’s heads dropped lower.

Yuren did not stop there.

“There will be an inspection. I will request it directly from His Majesty, so be aware of that.”

It was a declaration.

First was Viscount Wheaton.

Next was the faculty.

Yuren warned each of them of their respective punishments, creating a tense atmosphere.

However, at least at this moment, no one could criticize him.

Even if he had openly caused a ruckus, it would have been the same.

After all, if corruption was found in the name of education, wasn’t it right for Pharos to be this angry?

If anyone tried to stop Yuren, who held legitimacy in his hands, they would face backlash.

“And you.”

Finally, Yuren pointed to the cadets who were the only ones left in the room, having dodged the arrows.

As their bodies stiffened, Yuren spoke.

“I don’t know what that goat b*stard put up. Judging by his actions, yeah, it might be something beyond your level to handle.”

His voice was calm.

Yet it was powerful and full of dignity.

Such a voice lashed out in reproach.

“Still, you should have at least struggled. That’s what a knight does. A race that values belief over life.”

At some point, Yuren’s gaze turned to Liam.

Liam’s expression hardened.

Yuren said nothing more to Liam.

He simply picked up the trampled Milliam and threw him out of the arena.

Thud―

A heavy noise erupted.

Immediately, silence filled the space again.

Yuren closed his eyes gently.

No one could stop him, and no one even thought of leaving.

In the midst of it all, Yuren also passed judgment on the students.

“Everyone, come down to the arena. Those who participated, and those who came to watch.”

It was a moment when the cadets were bewildered by the incomprehensible words.

Boom―!

The ground cracked and crumbled.

The distinction between the arena and the entrance became blurred, and the space became much larger.

He rolled up his sleeves.

“Your spirit is rotten to the core. But it’s fortunate. I’m the one teaching you, and I’m second to none when it comes to dealing with rotten spirits.”

The muscles in his forearm were finely chiseled, hinting at his strength.

Yuren’s eyes gleamed coldly.

“Just get beaten. That usually fixes things.”

There was no right to refuse.

If you ran away, it was the end for you as a cadet, as a knight.

Everyone understood that much.

But given the opponent and the situation, some felt wronged, and others were even more frightened.

The expressions of the cadets hesitantly descending into the arena clearly showed that.

Yuren also seemed to understand the hearts of those cadets to some extent.

He then added these words.

“You know why I’m here. If you think about it again, it’s rather fortunate that things turned out this way.”

What came out of his mouth was a sweet reward that the cadets could never have imagined.

“You have 10 minutes. Anyone still standing after 10 minutes will be part of the Imperial Guard. It doesn’t matter if you’re a graduate or a freshman, a top student or a failing one, it’s decided here and now.”

Their expressions went blank.

That was the beginning.

The first to move was Yuren.

Boom―!

“Anyone who stays still, I’ll go and beat them up. Move.”

What should one call that situation?

…Yes, if one had to compare, it was like a wolf tearing through a flock of sheep.

Boom―!

“aaah!!!”

Yuren began to rampage.

* * *

Yuren Pharos.

It was only relatively recently that his name began to be associated with words other than “scoundrel.”

Thus, the people of the empire still treated Yuren as a bomb that could explode at any moment.

It was not at all strange that conspiracy theories surrounded his rise to the position of Grand Marshal.

There were many questions.

How talented must Yuren be to teach Kalios, who is called the reincarnation of the founding emperor?

How could someone who had lived so recklessly achieve greatness in the scholarly art of swordsmanship?

Some said that despite his talent reaching the heavens, his body was ruined by illness.

They said his scoundrel nature was due to a sense of betrayal towards the heavens.

Others said that all of this was a play.

They believed that Kalios needed the name of Pharos to strengthen his legitimacy and had made a deal with Yuren for that purpose.

The true answer had always been elusive.

It was natural.

Yuren had never once displayed his martial prowess in a public setting.

Thus, today, those who witnessed the true form of Yuren Paros could not hide their astonishment.

His strength was close to awe-inspiring.

“You, you’ve been standing still for 10 seconds.”

Kwaaang―!

He didn’t even draw his sword.

With his sleeves rolled up, he was facing hundreds of iron swords barehanded.

His expression was utterly serene.

Not a drop of sweat fell, giving off an atmosphere as if he were out for a stroll.

But what about the cadets facing him?

“Uwaaah!!!”

They charged at him desperately.

The moment they tried to flee, they found their heads slammed into the ground and swung their swords in frustration.

Some fainted, feeling a sense of relief.

They judged that it was better to lose consciousness.

Would it make sense if I said it was like watching a play?

Everyone was dumbfounded by the unrealistic exchange of blows.

Those with keen eyes realized one thing amidst it all.

“…Skill, pure skill.”

“Hmm…?”

“The master isn’t using mana. He must be at least an expert…”

Yuren wasn’t using mana.

The way he dealt with the cadets was purely through skill.

In other words, the difference between them and Yuren was simply how well they could control their bodies.

Those who realized this were engulfed in fear.

The ability to judge how each cadet moved in those moments, the mental capacity to decide how to continue the exchange, and the physical ability and stamina to execute it all.

Yuren was effortlessly doing what even those called prodigies or geniuses couldn’t attempt at an ordinary level.

The spectators couldn’t help but think.

‘Even I, who haven’t properly learned the sword, can feel this.’

Then, could the cadets facing Yuren not realize this?

‘…No.’

He would feel it more than anyone else.

The overwhelming wall of talent.

The difference in skill that could never be the same, even under the same conditions.

Perhaps that was why the cadets were so desperately struggling.

* * *

Liam staggered to his feet and glared at Yuren.

How many times had he been hit by that fist?

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t come up with an answer.

Because counting was meaningless.

He had been hit that many times.

His body had already reached its limit.

His legs were trembling, and the sword felt so heavy that he could hardly lift it.

The emotion that surged up was astonishment.

‘Is this really the same human being…?’

Liam was a prodigy who had even taken the top spot in his grade.

So he couldn’t not know what kind of sparring Yuren was doing.

He was using just the right amount of strength and skill for a cadet.

And yet, he was combining them so delicately to create new techniques.

Realizing the difference in talent brought a sense of futility.

But more than that, there was an emotion that surged up inside Liam.

‘I want to learn.’

A genius in terms of effort, fundamentally a warrior.

He felt a competitive spirit.

He wanted to get up even a little more and imprint that martial art in his eyes.

If he were to speak of any other desire, that was it.

Liam had seen up close the look in Yuren’s eyes when he had stormed into the arena just before.

The moment he looked down at him coldly, his heart seemed to sink.

No, it wasn’t.

He wanted to say that he was not someone who would succumb to external pressure and abandon his beliefs.

And so, he wanted to be recognized and gain the honor of the Imperial Guard.

The desire breathed strength into Liam’s body.

But, desire alone wouldn’t make it happen.

“Uaaah!!!”

“The abdomen is empty.”

Boom―!

With a gesture as if swatting away a fly, Liam’s body floated up.

He coughed as his breath was choked off and stood up again.

The other cadets were the same.

Everyone was in tatters, and among them, those who could still stand were getting up.

But, their numbers had dwindled to an incomparable degree.

‘20%? 30%?’

I don’t know.

There were far more people lying down than standing.

Liam looked around.

‘Rubin is still alive.’

There was also Senior Nathan and the fourth-year top student, Senior Fred.

Including the others who stood out, there were about twenty in total.

If they could somehow endure, it was a game they could win.

So, it was time to start a coordinated attack.

‘How much time is left?’

Quite a lot must have passed, no doubt.

After all, how many exchanges had there been so far?

The remaining time would be at most 1-2 minutes.

As the cadets exchanged glances thinking that, Yuren cruelly announced.

“5 minutes left.”

Thud, Liam’s heart sank.

Despair appeared on the faces of the other cadets.

But it didn’t end there.

The next words were,

“I think we’ve weeded out most of the riffraff…”

He stoked the rising despair.

“Now, let’s do this properly.”

Whooosh—

Yuren began to use mana.

His eyes glinted coldly.

It was the moment when a sense of crisis surged within Liam.

Craaash—!

“Ugh…!”

A cadet who had been holding on until now fainted in a single move.