Chapter 10 - School Life! (3)
Pram Schneizer was lightly stretching his body in the gymnasium. He gave the
impression of being very young, his face gave off a slender look. His rather
feminine eyebrows and long eyelashes only accented his beauty.
“What is that adorable little thing?!” Romantica exclaimed.
Desir agreed with her, “Pram sure has a cute side to him.”
Romantica violently shook her head left and right. “A cute side? That's wrong!
It's not a side, he's adorableness incarnate! How come I didn't know there was a
kid like that here?” Romantica spouted nonsense. “He’s so cute! Super cute! I
want one. Where can I get myself one? I’ll use my entire fortune if I have to!”
Her attitude resembled that of a spoiled brat who had caught a glimpse of
something she desperately wanted. Desir shook his head in disappointment.
In a spar, lethal weapons weren't allowed. Instead, the sparring hall would
provide dozens of various wooden weapons ranging from rapiers, broadswords,
claymores and others. Anybody wanting to spar was obliged to choose from
those provided weapons upon entering the sparring stage.
There existed six sparring stages. Pram was assigned to the fourth stage. Before
he entered the stage, he stopped right in front of the collection of wooden
weapons. Going from left to right, the size and weight of the weapons
increased. Pram hesitated for a moment before reaching out to his right. He
grabbed the weapon and held it up. It was a wide bladed greatsword.
Desir’s eyes narrowed. “A greatsword...?” Desir spoke anxiously.
Romantica clapped and leaned forward. “The best swordsman of Beta Class. I’m
looking forward to this.”
13
Pram’s opponent was a knight from the Alpha Class.
Percival Ahsegunits.
Having learned swordsmanship from an official knight, he was a strong
opponent to say the least. He had pulled his sword out, which was attached to
his waist by a scabbard. The sword looked to be a wooden broadsword, a mix
between a longsword and a shortsword. Percival stared at Pram with a
menacing and savage look. Pram put his right hand on his chest and lowered
his head as to greet his opponent in a respectful bow.
“Beta Class. I’m Pram Schneizer.”
“I have no need to introduce myself to some filthy Beta Class.”
While both were fixated on each other, the referee lowered his flag announcing
the start of the battle.
“Hiyat!”
The first one to move was Pram. He charged at his opponent, keeping his
intimidating greatsword close. As he got near his opponent, he rapidly
unleashed a strong and horizontal slash upon Percival. Percival was forced to
block this attack with his sword.
As both of the wooden swords clashed, the noise brought about by such a
collision emphasized the strength of both warriors.
Percival succeeded in blocking Pram's attack yet the shock that was caused by
their clash left Percival's face briefly stiffened. Pram noticed and took full
advantage of such a brief opening. He continued to press into his opponent,
unleashing a barrage of heavy swings. Even as Percival matched each of Pram's
attacks, he desperately tried to create some distance between them to
counterattack, yet to no avail. Pram was dead set on giving him no room to
14
breathe. He had succeeded in pushing Percival all the way to the edge of the
stage.
Desir observed the fight with a darkened expression. This wasn't the Pram he
had expected. Pram's strength didn't lie in his usage of the greatsword. All his
movements were simple and blunt. As a matter of fact, Pram should've been
using a rapier, a weapon which perfectly matched his style of fast and accurate
swordsmanship, not something as dull as a greatsword. At this point, Desir
wondered,
‘Why isn’t he using a rapier?’ Desir’s worries soon became reality.
The spar was straightforward. Pram swung his sword around without giving it
much thought while Percival simply blocked all his incoming attacks. Even
though it all looked simple, swinging such a large sword was draining Pram's
stamina.
Percival opportunistically leapt forward and began to furiously attack Pram. In
an instant, the flow of the battle had flipped in Percival's favor. Pram fell back
and almost collapsed, distraught by the sudden change in Percival's stance.
Percival's attacks were overwhelmingly strong and accurate, giving Pram no
room to readjust his defense. As expected, Pram's lack of expertise in
greatswords would be the end of him. After blocking multiple attacks, Pram's
stamina was completely depleted. As he brought up his greatsword to block an
incoming attack, he twisted his right wrist.
“Kuaaap!”
In a battle between swordsmen, a brief opening was of utmost importance. This
held true especially if one was being barraged by attacks. Percival gave of a
fierce roar as he leapt in, striking the side of the awkwardly held greatsword.
Pram's wrist couldn't withstand the impact and was forced to let go of the
heavy weapon. “Kuok!”
The wooden greatsword flew into the air. It spun around a few times and
landed back on the ground pathetically.
15
The victor was decided.
Pram had lost.
As Pram stared down his weapon, he let out a sigh and bowed his head. “I lost.”
Contrary to Desir’s expectations, the battle ended rather plainly. Romantica put
on an incredulous expression, “I'm pretty sure you mentioned that that kid
called Pram was a strong swordsman, didn't you? What kind of swordsman gets
tired while swinging a sword? Not even a beginner makes such a mistake.”
“Yeah...” Desir unknowingly responded.
Romantica placed a hand on her chin. The excitement in her green eyes was all
but gone.
“He's cute and all, but that has nothing to do with his combat abilities. If he
stays like that, it'll be useless to recruit him to our party. Why don't we find
another student?” Romantica’s words reflected the reality of the situation.
A party was better off without having any weak members. They would only
serve as deadweight, dragging the party down instead of lifting it up.
If Desir didn't already know Pram's future, he would've surely followed
Romantica's advice. Staring at Pram, Desir suddenly got up from his seat and
shouted toward Percival. “Enough!”
A fight between both of them had broken out. Pram was on the ground while
Percival was stood up in front of him, holding up a fist. Percival had instigated
this fight by throwing the first punch. He turned his head over to where the
noise came from and noticed Desir approaching him.
Percival chuckled. “Ha.” His chuckle was filled with ridicule.
16
He pointed his wooden sword at Pram and spoke “If you don’t want to end up
like him, you better scram.”
Desir sighed. The world has its fair share of people who solve everything with
violence.
“Why are you doing this?”
Percival did not reply. In that moment, Pram got up from the ground. His
tattered robe was stained with dirt. He rubbed his reddened cheek and spoke,
“Damn, Alpha Class sure are something. Did it anger you that you got pushed
around by a Beta Class, even for just a moment?"
The boy was right on the mark.
He was a bit too right.
Percival's eyes lit up in anger as he swung his wooden sword.
The wooden sword rapidly flew towards Pram’s head with the full intent of
annihilating it. Pram, unable to do anything, reflexively closed his eyes.
He heard the striking sound, but when he realized he didn't feel a sliver of pain,
he slowly opened his eyes. At first, he only noticed fragments of wood scattered
in the air and drops of blood falling to the ground. Yet it only took him less
than a second to notice a broken wooden sword and Desir's arms, which had
blocked the attack directed at Pram’s head.
Desir spoke with an unexpectedly calm voice. “You were ‘really’ going to hit
him.”
Desir’s right hand was clenched in a fist. Percival could not believe his eyes. ‘He
blocked that?’
17
It was an incredibly fast strike. It was done in the heat of the moment and
purely out of anger. But having swung the weapon with all his mustered up
strength, the thought that it could have been blocked hadn't even crossed
Percival's mind. A single droplet of cold sweat ran down Percival's spine. “S-so
what?”
Desir inhaled a deep breath then proceeded to stare down Percival. Percival felt
like Desir's penetrating gaze were a dark abyss that could swallow him whole.
“The battle is over. You won. What else do you want?”
Desir’s eyes were completely devoid of any emotion. No anger, no fear, no
irritation was shown. He was just plainly staring at Percival. Without Percival
having realized it, Desir emanated an incomprehensible and strange
atmosphere that left him dumbfounded and without breath. Percival had felt
something like this before. He recalled a time when he was very young. The
knowledgeable veteran general who had taught him everything would stare at
Percival with the same eyes each time he made a mistake.
“Be thankful that a professor isn’t here right now. If a professor saw your
conduct just now-” Desir exclaimed.
“Don’t you lecture me.” Percival snapped back.
Percival rapidly turned around and left to go somewhere else. As though he did
not want to stay in that place a second longer, Percival left Desir's sight with a
half run.
***
Desir's arm had taken a serious beating. The spot where he had blocked the
wooden sword was swollen, and the area around the wound had turned black
and red with bruising. It was a silver lining that his bone hadn't been broken.
The wood splinters were removed, and his wound was carefully disinfected and
bandaged.
“Your wound hurts a lot, right?” Pram asked, concerned.
18
After moving to the infirmary, Pram had begun providing first-aid to Desir. He
carefully wrapped bandages around the wound, making sure they would not
unravel. For some odd reason, the ends of the bandages were tied into a ribbon.
Desir had to hold back laughter at that fact. It truly was a meticulous
handiwork.
“I’m really sorry.” Pram was on the verge of tears.
He blankly stared at Desir’s arm wrapped in bandages. Even now, blood was
seeping through the wrappings.
“I am truly sorry. Life is going to be a lot tougher with a wounded right arm like
yours.”
“It’s alright. I was the one who decided to intervene.”
“No, no. This was all my fault. If I don’t take responsibility-”
“I told you, it’s fine.”
“Well, if you say so...”
Even as he said that, Pram remained restless.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” said Desir, trying to appease Pram’s worries.
“But...”
Pram took a seat next to Desir and cast a downtrodden glance.
“You've made yourself an enemy in Alpha Class just to help someone you didn’t
know.”
“I was well aware of that as soon as I decided to step in.”
19
When Desir said that, Pram raised his head. His eyes were filled with surprise
and awe. “A-anyways, thank you. I’ll never forget this.”
“It was nothing.”
“Ah!”
Pram suddenly realized something.
“Now that I think about it, we’ve just been calling each other ‘you’.”
A light hearted laughter was exchanged between the pair. Pram pointed to
himself and spoke, “I’m Pram Schneizer.”
“Desir Arman. Nice to meet you, Mr. Schneizer.”
“There’s no need to address me with such formality.”
“Hmm, if that’s the case...Schneizer?”
Pram shook his head. “No, no. Just call me Pram. You can just speak casually
with me.”
Desir spoke defeatedly, “Alright, Pram. Does that work?”
Pram's face lit up as soon as he heard Desir concede. He truly was happy.
Chapter 10 - School Life! (3)
Pram Schneizer was lightly stretching his body in the gymnasium. He gave the
impression of being very young, his face gave off a slender look. His rather
feminine eyebrows and long eyelashes only accented his beauty.
“What is that adorable little thing?!” Romantica exclaimed.
Desir agreed with her, “Pram sure has a cute side to him.”
Romantica violently shook her head left and right. “A cute side? That's wrong!
It's not a side, he's adorableness incarnate! How come I didn't know there was a
kid like that here?” Romantica spouted nonsense. “He’s so cute! Super cute! I
want one. Where can I get myself one? I’ll use my entire fortune if I have to!”
Her attitude resembled that of a spoiled brat who had caught a glimpse of
something she desperately wanted. Desir shook his head in disappointment.
In a spar, lethal weapons weren't allowed. Instead, the sparring hall would
provide dozens of various wooden weapons ranging from rapiers, broadswords,
claymores and others. Anybody wanting to spar was obliged to choose from
those provided weapons upon entering the sparring stage.
There existed six sparring stages. Pram was assigned to the fourth stage. Before
he entered the stage, he stopped right in front of the collection of wooden
weapons. Going from left to right, the size and weight of the weapons
increased. Pram hesitated for a moment before reaching out to his right. He
grabbed the weapon and held it up. It was a wide bladed greatsword.
Desir’s eyes narrowed. “A greatsword...?” Desir spoke anxiously.
Romantica clapped and leaned forward. “The best swordsman of Beta Class. I’m
looking forward to this.”
13
Pram’s opponent was a knight from the Alpha Class.
Percival Ahsegunits.
Having learned swordsmanship from an official knight, he was a strong
opponent to say the least. He had pulled his sword out, which was attached to
his waist by a scabbard. The sword looked to be a wooden broadsword, a mix
between a longsword and a shortsword. Percival stared at Pram with a
menacing and savage look. Pram put his right hand on his chest and lowered
his head as to greet his opponent in a respectful bow.
“Beta Class. I’m Pram Schneizer.”
“I have no need to introduce myself to some filthy Beta Class.”
While both were fixated on each other, the referee lowered his flag announcing
the start of the battle.
“Hiyat!”
The first one to move was Pram. He charged at his opponent, keeping his
intimidating greatsword close. As he got near his opponent, he rapidly
unleashed a strong and horizontal slash upon Percival. Percival was forced to
block this attack with his sword.
As both of the wooden swords clashed, the noise brought about by such a
collision emphasized the strength of both warriors.
Percival succeeded in blocking Pram's attack yet the shock that was caused by
their clash left Percival's face briefly stiffened. Pram noticed and took full
advantage of such a brief opening. He continued to press into his opponent,
unleashing a barrage of heavy swings. Even as Percival matched each of Pram's
attacks, he desperately tried to create some distance between them to
counterattack, yet to no avail. Pram was dead set on giving him no room to
14
breathe. He had succeeded in pushing Percival all the way to the edge of the
stage.
Desir observed the fight with a darkened expression. This wasn't the Pram he
had expected. Pram's strength didn't lie in his usage of the greatsword. All his
movements were simple and blunt. As a matter of fact, Pram should've been
using a rapier, a weapon which perfectly matched his style of fast and accurate
swordsmanship, not something as dull as a greatsword. At this point, Desir
wondered,
‘Why isn’t he using a rapier?’ Desir’s worries soon became reality.
The spar was straightforward. Pram swung his sword around without giving it
much thought while Percival simply blocked all his incoming attacks. Even
though it all looked simple, swinging such a large sword was draining Pram's
stamina.
Percival opportunistically leapt forward and began to furiously attack Pram. In
an instant, the flow of the battle had flipped in Percival's favor. Pram fell back
and almost collapsed, distraught by the sudden change in Percival's stance.
Percival's attacks were overwhelmingly strong and accurate, giving Pram no
room to readjust his defense. As expected, Pram's lack of expertise in
greatswords would be the end of him. After blocking multiple attacks, Pram's
stamina was completely depleted. As he brought up his greatsword to block an
incoming attack, he twisted his right wrist.
“Kuaaap!”
In a battle between swordsmen, a brief opening was of utmost importance. This
held true especially if one was being barraged by attacks. Percival gave of a
fierce roar as he leapt in, striking the side of the awkwardly held greatsword.
Pram's wrist couldn't withstand the impact and was forced to let go of the
heavy weapon. “Kuok!”
The wooden greatsword flew into the air. It spun around a few times and
landed back on the ground pathetically.
15
The victor was decided.
Pram had lost.
As Pram stared down his weapon, he let out a sigh and bowed his head. “I lost.”
Contrary to Desir’s expectations, the battle ended rather plainly. Romantica put
on an incredulous expression, “I'm pretty sure you mentioned that that kid
called Pram was a strong swordsman, didn't you? What kind of swordsman gets
tired while swinging a sword? Not even a beginner makes such a mistake.”
“Yeah...” Desir unknowingly responded.
Romantica placed a hand on her chin. The excitement in her green eyes was all
but gone.
“He's cute and all, but that has nothing to do with his combat abilities. If he
stays like that, it'll be useless to recruit him to our party. Why don't we find
another student?” Romantica’s words reflected the reality of the situation.
A party was better off without having any weak members. They would only
serve as deadweight, dragging the party down instead of lifting it up.
If Desir didn't already know Pram's future, he would've surely followed
Romantica's advice. Staring at Pram, Desir suddenly got up from his seat and
shouted toward Percival. “Enough!”
A fight between both of them had broken out. Pram was on the ground while
Percival was stood up in front of him, holding up a fist. Percival had instigated
this fight by throwing the first punch. He turned his head over to where the
noise came from and noticed Desir approaching him.
Percival chuckled. “Ha.” His chuckle was filled with ridicule.
16
He pointed his wooden sword at Pram and spoke “If you don’t want to end up
like him, you better scram.”
Desir sighed. The world has its fair share of people who solve everything with
violence.
“Why are you doing this?”
Percival did not reply. In that moment, Pram got up from the ground. His
tattered robe was stained with dirt. He rubbed his reddened cheek and spoke,
“Damn, Alpha Class sure are something. Did it anger you that you got pushed
around by a Beta Class, even for just a moment?"
The boy was right on the mark.
He was a bit too right.
Percival's eyes lit up in anger as he swung his wooden sword.
The wooden sword rapidly flew towards Pram’s head with the full intent of
annihilating it. Pram, unable to do anything, reflexively closed his eyes.
He heard the striking sound, but when he realized he didn't feel a sliver of pain,
he slowly opened his eyes. At first, he only noticed fragments of wood scattered
in the air and drops of blood falling to the ground. Yet it only took him less
than a second to notice a broken wooden sword and Desir's arms, which had
blocked the attack directed at Pram’s head.
Desir spoke with an unexpectedly calm voice. “You were ‘really’ going to hit
him.”
Desir’s right hand was clenched in a fist. Percival could not believe his eyes. ‘He
blocked that?’
17
It was an incredibly fast strike. It was done in the heat of the moment and
purely out of anger. But having swung the weapon with all his mustered up
strength, the thought that it could have been blocked hadn't even crossed
Percival's mind. A single droplet of cold sweat ran down Percival's spine. “S-so
what?”
Desir inhaled a deep breath then proceeded to stare down Percival. Percival felt
like Desir's penetrating gaze were a dark abyss that could swallow him whole.
“The battle is over. You won. What else do you want?”
Desir’s eyes were completely devoid of any emotion. No anger, no fear, no
irritation was shown. He was just plainly staring at Percival. Without Percival
having realized it, Desir emanated an incomprehensible and strange
atmosphere that left him dumbfounded and without breath. Percival had felt
something like this before. He recalled a time when he was very young. The
knowledgeable veteran general who had taught him everything would stare at
Percival with the same eyes each time he made a mistake.
“Be thankful that a professor isn’t here right now. If a professor saw your
conduct just now-” Desir exclaimed.
“Don’t you lecture me.” Percival snapped back.
Percival rapidly turned around and left to go somewhere else. As though he did
not want to stay in that place a second longer, Percival left Desir's sight with a
half run.
***
Desir's arm had taken a serious beating. The spot where he had blocked the
wooden sword was swollen, and the area around the wound had turned black
and red with bruising. It was a silver lining that his bone hadn't been broken.
The wood splinters were removed, and his wound was carefully disinfected and
bandaged.
“Your wound hurts a lot, right?” Pram asked, concerned.
18
After moving to the infirmary, Pram had begun providing first-aid to Desir. He
carefully wrapped bandages around the wound, making sure they would not
unravel. For some odd reason, the ends of the bandages were tied into a ribbon.
Desir had to hold back laughter at that fact. It truly was a meticulous
handiwork.
“I’m really sorry.” Pram was on the verge of tears.
He blankly stared at Desir’s arm wrapped in bandages. Even now, blood was
seeping through the wrappings.
“I am truly sorry. Life is going to be a lot tougher with a wounded right arm like
yours.”
“It’s alright. I was the one who decided to intervene.”
“No, no. This was all my fault. If I don’t take responsibility-”
“I told you, it’s fine.”
“Well, if you say so...”
Even as he said that, Pram remained restless.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” said Desir, trying to appease Pram’s worries.
“But...”
Pram took a seat next to Desir and cast a downtrodden glance.
“You've made yourself an enemy in Alpha Class just to help someone you didn’t
know.”
“I was well aware of that as soon as I decided to step in.”
19
When Desir said that, Pram raised his head. His eyes were filled with surprise
and awe. “A-anyways, thank you. I’ll never forget this.”
“It was nothing.”
“Ah!”
Pram suddenly realized something.
“Now that I think about it, we’ve just been calling each other ‘you’.”
A light hearted laughter was exchanged between the pair. Pram pointed to
himself and spoke, “I’m Pram Schneizer.”
“Desir Arman. Nice to meet you, Mr. Schneizer.”
“There’s no need to address me with such formality.”
“Hmm, if that’s the case...Schneizer?”
Pram shook his head. “No, no. Just call me Pram. You can just speak casually
with me.”
Desir spoke defeatedly, “Alright, Pram. Does that work?”
Pram's face lit up as soon as he heard Desir concede. He truly was happy.
