Academy’s Genius Swordsman

Chapter 267

“Noon, and there are so many people.”

The sky was clear as Ronan looked around the main square, frowning. By the time he and the club members arrived, the square was already packed with students. The sudden assembly had everyone buzzing with confusion.

“Ugh… What’s going on?”

“Hick…! Can’t… breathe… Maruya…”

Maruya, still half-asleep, mumbled as she hugged Asel tightly. The hangover from last night’s drinking left the members in a dazed state, still half-dreaming.

They had barely washed their faces before being dragged out by Ronan. Shulipen, running a hand through his hair, sighed deeply.

“…Such disgrace from overindulgence. It’s shameful.”

“Huh, even the noble scion of Grancia has become quite accustomed to common ways. Losing your dignity like that is unthinkable in Akalusia.”

“Eri. Why are you wearing your hair in pigtails?”

As they chatted, suddenly, a space in front of the podium warped, and an elderly man with a long beard emerged. It was Craba Cratir, the headmaster of Phileon Academy. His beard had grown even longer since they last saw him about a month ago. Dark circles under his eyes suggested a sleepless night. Cratir began to speak.

“Good day, everyone. Thank you for gathering on such short notice. I have an important announcement, so please remain silent.”

Snap! As Cratir snapped his fingers, waves of mana rippled out from him, drawing everyone’s attention and silencing the square. After a brief pause, Cratir continued.

“Starting today, Phileon Academy will be closed indefinitely. Students who need support or protection from the academy can stay, but I encourage you to return home and stay safe.”

“What?”

Ronan’s eyes widened. The same surprised reaction came from Adeshan and the other members. Even during the Year of the Winter Witch when the capital was enveloped in winter for a year, Phileon had remained operational. The sudden announcement of a closure was shocking.

It seemed like a joke, but Cratir’s expression was more serious than ever. The previously quiet students began murmuring again. A senior student raised his hand and asked a question.

“May I ask why?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t provide a detailed answer this time. Just know that this decision was made after thorough discussions for your safety. More details will be provided by your dorm supervisors.”

Despite a few more questions, Cratir couldn’t provide any specifics. He only reassured the students that tuition fees and missed classes would be compensated by Phileon. Then he turned to leave.

“Let’s begin the process of sending everyone home. Students, please follow your guides’ instructions!”

As Cratir left, guides appeared throughout the square, leading the confused students to their designated areas. Asel stuttered, still in disbelief.

“Wh-What? School is closed?”

“This is serious…”

Maruya narrowed her eyes. The other members also looked visibly shaken. As they were jostled around by the crowd, a familiar voice echoed in Ronan’s mind.

[Ronan, please come to the headmaster’s office immediately.]

“Cratir?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. It was unmistakably Cratir’s voice. Almost simultaneously, Asel and Adeshan flinched in surprise, looking around like startled meerkats. Asel turned to Ronan and asked.

“R-Ronan… did you hear that?”

“Yeah. I did.”

“I heard it too.”

Adeshan nodded. Just then, Shulipen began walking towards the headmaster’s office. Ronan called out.

“Did you hear it too?”

Shulipen nodded silently, one hand on his head, still suffering from the hangover. Four people had heard Cratir’s call.

“It’s definitely something important.”

Ronan stroked his chin as he looked at them one by one. They were all people who had achieved significant victories against Nebula Clazier. Despite still feeling the exhaustion from Adren, they had no choice but to go. Ronan had a feeling something big was about to happen. He patted Asel and Adeshan on the back.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

****

The four of them made their way to the headmaster’s office. Contrary to expectations, it didn’t take long to leave the main square. Phileon’s students, recognizing their now-famous faces, stepped aside to let them pass.

“Come in quickly. You arrived sooner than I expected.”

“Damn, you startled me.”

Ronan cursed as the door suddenly swung open just as he was about to grab the doorknob. Cratir was pacing the room with his hands behind his back, looking like an old dog in need of a walk. Ronan asked.

“What’s going on? Why is the school suddenly closed?”

“It’s good that I called you first. Going there in your current state would have been disastrous.”

“Excuse me?”

Cratir’s answer was perplexing. He looked the four of them up and down and sighed in relief. Ronan frowned at his cryptic words.

“What do you mean? I even washed my hair, you know.”

“That’s not enough.”

Snap! Cratir snapped his fingers. Instantly, their uniforms were smoothed and the stains disappeared. The lingering smell of alcohol was also gone.

“Oh.”

“Now you’re ready. I’ll explain everything once we get there. Gather around.”

Cratir gestured for them to come closer. They did as instructed. Once they were within range, Cratir snapped his fingers again.

Snap! With a sharp sound, the space around them warped. For a moment, everything went dark, then a strange landscape unfolded before their eyes.

The room was vast, like the lobby of a grand building, made of some unknown dark stone. Asel shivered instinctively.

“Wh-Where are we?”

“This is a secret meeting room within Phileon. No one can enter by ordinary means.”

Cratir answered. Indeed, there were no visible doors or windows. Though spacious, they had no idea such a facility existed here.

In the center of the room was a long table, large enough to use as a ship. A hundred chairs surrounded it, and all but six were occupied. The faces of the occupants were familiar. Recognizing them, Ronan raised an eyebrow.

“That’s my seat, cat. Move your furry butt.”

“Just sit wherever. It’s these petty details that make you lose to me.”

“You…!”

The first people Ronan noticed were two sword masters bickering. Zaifa ignored Navirose, stretching leisurely. The people next to her restrained her from drawing her greatsword in anger.

“C-Calm down, Master of All! I’ll give you my seat!”

“Huh?”

Ronan frowned. He couldn’t be mistaken; two of the people restraining Navirose wore crowns. Adeshan spoke in a voice filled with awe.

“They’re the lords of Pale and Tansien. Why are they here…?”

“What? Real kings?”

Adeshan nodded. Ronan let out an incredulous laugh. Pale was a kingdom at the southernmost tip of the continent. Why had its ruler come all the way here?

Just then, Zaifa, noticing Ronan, waved.

“Long time no see, Ronan. You were a great help in the north. Thanks to you, I could give my son a proper burial.”

“That’s good to hear. How have you been?”

“Not bad. Killing fanatics has become my hobby.”

Zaifa nodded. After parting with Ronan in the north, he and his men had eradicated dozens of Nebula Clazier branches.

Ronan had feared he might be devastated after the betrayal of his younger brother and the burial of his son, but he seemed fully recovered. Cratir, looking relieved, spoke from the head of the table.

“Fortunately, he hasn’t arrived yet. Take your seats.”

“Alright. But you know, you haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“Apologies. We were in such a hurry. To explain briefly, the reason for the school closure is to prevent students from getting caught in the upcoming war.”

“War? Oh, don’t tell me…”

Ronan’s eyes widened as he recalled the events in Adren. Shulipen and Asel seemed to have caught on as well. Cratir nodded silently.

“Yes. The time has come. Now, please take your seats.”

With his curiosity satisfied, Ronan asked no more questions. He, Asel, Shulipen, and Adeshan’s seats were almost at the head of the table. As they sat, they noticed the intricate magic circles engraved on the walls and ceiling of the meeting room. Every inch was designed for security. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from across the room.

“Hello… Ronan…”

“Huh? Ophelia?”

Ronan quickly lowered his gaze from the ceiling. The familiar girl sitting across the table looked back at him with silver hair and red eyes as beautiful as ever.

“You’re here too?”

“Yes… Normally, the Night Clan doesn’t step foot on Imperial soil, but this is an exception…”

Around Ophelia were several other pale-skinned beauties. It wasn’t hard to guess they were all vampires. Suddenly, a man sitting to her left chuckled at Ronan.

“You look healthy, snack. Seems you’ve been eating well.”

“Balzac.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. It had been a long time since he’d seen that face. The vampire who had lost his left eye was the same one who had once lost a bet against Ronan for the Essence of Blood.

“What are you doing

here?”

“I’m here as part of the clan’s will. As our dear Ophelia said, this isn’t an ordinary matter.”

“Huh… So, are you alright now?”

Ronan glanced between Ophelia and Balzac, recalling the past. Compared to then, the distance between them seemed significantly reduced.

Balzac, who had killed Ophelia’s sister, had once been unable to approach her within five paces despite his deep love for her. The image of Ophelia looking at him with disgust was still vivid. She nodded slowly.

“Yes… Recently, a misunderstanding was cleared.”

“A misunderstanding?”

“Specifically, it wasn’t Balzac who should have been hated. My sister’s madness was caused by those fanatics.”

Ophelia’s voice turned cold. A murderous aura began to seep from her shoulders. Suddenly, the man sitting to her right raised a hand to stop her.

“That’s enough, Ophelia.”

“…Yes.”

The aura dissipated. Ophelia bit her lip briefly before closing her eyes. For someone to command her so easily, he must be quite high-ranking. The mysterious man looked at Ronan with a friendly smile.

“I’m Isran von Barshaba. I’ve heard a lot about you but never met you in person.”

“Barshaba? Don’t tell me…”

The man’s surname was the same as Balzac’s. Shaking hands with him, Ronan hesitated for a moment.

There was a boundless power pulsing beneath his black tailcoat. Even if Ophelia and Balzac’s powers were combined, they couldn’t match this. He seemed capable of fighting Orse. Sensing his identity instinctively, Ronan’s expression hardened.

“…The Shadow Grand Duke?”

“Oh, you know me?”

Isran smiled, revealing his fangs. Just as Ronan had suspected, he was the Shadow Grand Duke, the ruler of the vampire world, often spoken of by Ophelia and Balzac.

“Nice to meet you. The hero who saved the Dragon City.”

“…Likewise.”

Contrary to his expectations, Isran was very polite. Apart from them, the meeting room was filled with all sorts of powerful individuals.

Professors like Baren and Jordin from Phileon, former swordmasters from the Sword Festival, tower lords like Aun Pila. It was a gathering of the continent’s top forces.

“This is… really impressive…”

“Indeed. It shows how important the organizer is.”

Overwhelmed by the aura in the room, Asel muttered, trembling. Even Shulipen couldn’t hide his amazement. Adeshan, who still didn’t fully understand, quietly held Ronan’s hand under the table.

At the stroke of noon, a flame burst forth from the head of the table, revealing a sensuous woman.

“Oh… it’s really…”

Nabarrodoje was wearing a dignified uniform she might have worn while ruling Adren. The once-noisy room fell silent instantly as she looked around at the attendees.

【It seems everyone is here. Am I late?】

“You’re not.”

【Thank you, Ronan. It’s been two days, but it’s good to see you.】

Nabarrodoje smiled warmly at Ronan. The sight of him casually chatting with the Mother of Fire made everyone’s eyes widen in shock. She brushed her hair back and began to speak.

【Let’s start the meeting. The agenda is the eradication of Nebula Clazier.】

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