Chapter 248 |
"I would have done the same if I were you. Why acknowledge me now, all of a sudden? Does it look different just because it’s the finals?"
Leana said nothing.
Her father, back when they still talked, was never like that.
But ever since their relationship fell apart, they hadn’t had a proper conversation.
Maybe his values had changed over the long years.
Whatever the case, the fact that he had once stood in his daughter’s way remained unchanged.
‘I don’t know how to take this.’
Her head was a mess, but now wasn’t the time for it.
She had to push away all personal emotions from the hand holding her sword and grip it only with burning fighting spirit.
"Silla."
"Hm?"
"If I beat Valient, where would that place me?"
"Who knows? There are so many strong people in the world."
Silla pouted her lips briefly before continuing.
"Still, among people our age, that’d mean you’ve made it to the top."
Leana couldn’t help but think of someone different.
"Then what about Hersel?"
"He's a freak of nature."
"And Mircel, then..."
"That whole bloodline’s full of freaks. Just look at Erucel—you’ll get it right away. Massive flaws in the head, but got this far thanks to the family bloodline."
At the clear example of Erucel, Leana swallowed hard.
"...That really is a broken lineage."
***
Bellen sat in the stands with Professor Gomon and Rockefeller.
Before they knew it, the arena had been restored, and the seats were once again packed with people.
In the drowsy mood following lunch, Gomon asked,
"Your student made it to the finals—how do you feel?"
"How do I feel? Nothing new, really. She was qualified to be up there thanks to how well I trained her. I’m just surprised she made it this far in a fight where being good alone isn’t enough."
Rockefeller, who had been silently listening, nodded.
Seeing him, Bellen narrowed her eyes.
‘That guy’s obviously holding back a grin.’
She hadn’t said anything until now just to keep a straight face.
"But Dame Bellen, may I ask—why did you choose Leana in particular?"
Bellen immediately understood what Gomon was getting at.
Her potential was above average, sure, but the swordsmanship she had learned was third-rate—something you'd see among common soldiers.
And it was so deeply ingrained that correcting her form was extremely difficult.
To Gomon, she must not have seemed like promising material.
"There were other kids in the audience with similar talent.
Would’ve been easier to train them, too."
Honestly, when she taught her, she’d run into plenty of hurdles she wouldn’t have had with someone else.
"You’ve known her for a while, right? Was that why?"
Bellen shook her head.
‘It wasn’t out of personal feeling. If anything, I initially planned to make her drop the sword.’
You could say it was thanks to Hersel’s persuasion, but really, that just made her more open-minded.
The important thing was whether she was worth teaching.
So the reason she chose Leana was because she had something in her that made her want to teach her—enough to tear apart even the personal baggage that made her hesitate.
"I saw a talent worth the trouble."
"Talent, huh?"
Gomon thought for a second before continuing.
"Ah, well, she does have freakishly good stamina."
"Exactly. That was the trait most needed for my sword style."
To demonstrate, Bellen summoned a flame in midair.
"Turning aura into fire consumes an insane amount of energy. The combustion process is so intense, it feels like the aura’s pouring out of your body like water from a hole.
With average stamina, you hit your limit quickly and can’t keep up with the burn rate."
Gomon scratched his head.
Since Bellen had invented this sword technique himself, it was bound to be unfamiliar.
Still, as a professor, he seemed to understand the general idea.
"Hmm, so that’s why. Stamina is something you can build through training, and Leana’s been training regularly."
But he didn’t seem to grasp the full picture.
Bellen sighed and gave a deeper explanation.
"This may sound like bragging, but the Tenest bloodline—regardless of gender—is naturally superior in terms of physical makeup. And with training, they grow twice as fast as others thanks to excellent genetics.
That applies to both swordsmanship and stamina. Because of that foundation, I can wield my sword technique."
Gomon, looking puzzled, asked again.
"So, you mean her stamina is just the result of solid training—"
"This guy... clearly didn’t get it. You can build stamina through training, but everyone has a limit. Even I could push my stamina several times further than the average person, but that kid’s surpassed even me."
Only then did Gomon break into a cold sweat.
"Th-Then how far can Leana go?"
Bellen looked down at the redhead with an almost exasperated expression.
"Who knows? I don’t even know that."
She had no limits when it came to physical growth.
Soon, Leana’s flame would have more intensity and longer burn time than her own.
‘There’s no better fit than her in the entire world.’
But the journey was still far from over.
Bellen glanced toward the opposing contestant and smiled bitterly.
"Hmph. Being Valient, he’s probably analyzed everything already. This is going to be tough."
Gomon nodded in agreement.
"Well, yeah, that’s true. Why’d she have to go and pick only the most difficult opponents every single time?"
As the contestants stepped onto the stage, Bellen fell silent.
She simply watched with a solemn expression.
***
With every step forward, the elegant aura surrounding the woman drew everyone’s eyes.
When the blonde brushed aside her bangs, a calm expression came into view.
Her gentle smile didn’t carry the slightest hint of mockery—only warmth and kindness seemed to radiate from her.
Feeling the weight of her presence, Leana recalled the title she was known by.
‘Saint, Adizel.’
A name born from tales of compassion despite her being an atheist.
She had nothing to do with religion, yet people still called her that.
Leana found herself genuinely impressed.
‘Now that I see her in person, “Saint” really does fit her perfectly.’
Just as they were about to reach the referee, Adizel suddenly took both of Leana’s hands in hers.
Leana was startled at first, but seeing her soft expression made her feel reverent without even realizing it.
"You’re incredible. You must’ve gone through so much to make it here."
"...Sorry?"
"You’re my next opponent, and I was so curious about you that I took the liberty of finding out more. Hearing your story—how you overcame so much adversity—made me realize I need to try harder in my own life."
Leana was flustered once again.
"You’ve walked a desolate path all alone without anyone pushing you forward, haven’t you? Oh, look at these hands.
They bear the deep marks of hardship."
Taken out of context, her comment about having no support could have sounded like a jab at Leana's unremarkable background or rigid family situation.
But thanks to Silla, Leana had developed enough discernment to tell when someone was being sincere.
Adizel’s clear voice carried only genuine concern.
Still, a small worry crept into Leana’s mind.
Adizel came from a wealthy family and was known for her altruism even among nobles.
Leana worried that such kindness might affect the duel.
"I just hope you won’t go easy on me."
At that, Adizel instantly dropped her smile and showed a serious face.
"If that’s what you’re worried about, rest assured. I never look down on an opponent. That in itself would hurt them, wouldn’t it?"
Her firm tone made Leana think, ‘Now that’s a true Valient.’
And even if it was just one side of her, Leana felt she could grasp what kind of person Adizel was.
Mercy was something she only gave when necessary.
And any coldness she displayed was shown in response to the wishes of her opponent.
‘If there ever was such a thing as a perfect person, she might be it.’
But the moment the referee declared the match begun, Adizel’s sword was razor sharp.
Leana reflexively stepped back to dodge the strike, and even from that motion, a heavy gust followed the blade.
It was the kind of force that made her wonder if her wrist wouldn’t have trembled had she tried to block it.
Adizel spoke.
"I showed my sincerity from the very start, putting everything into that opening. And you? What was that?"
Leana remembered that Adizel had another nickname besides “Saint.”
Adizel the Swift.
Because of her deep empathy, she was known for executions that delivered punishment swiftly, minimizing suffering—even to criminals who arguably deserved much worse.
***
This one was a loss.
That was my first thought the moment I saw the match-up.
Apparently Donatan agreed, because he voiced a relatable comment.
—Just one swing and it’s obvious. That redhead is up against her natural enemy.
Leana’s fighting style was all about brute stamina—overwhelming the opponent until they ran out of gas.
Starting at full power and ending at full power—it was terrifying for the one on the receiving end.
But that only worked depending on the opponent.
If the opponent’s style was about burning through everything they had in a short burst right from the start, then of course Leana’s strategy would be weak against it.
Especially if that burst of power even briefly matched Ares’ level.
By nature, Leana’s explosiveness was vastly inferior to Adizel’s.
"How can someone be that beautiful?"
"Seriously. Even her back is stunning."
"She’s got that whole aura thing going, too."
Hearing the murmurs from men in the audience, I lifted my head.
Those were the kind of comments we’d been hearing ever since Adizel first appeared.
Well, of course—her beautiful face and dangerously alluring presence were part of what made her so famous.
Even Limberton, who’d been living his life straight and focused, seemed to revert to his old ways.
"God, I just wanna bury myself in her."
Oddly enough, Ricks was no different.
"Wedding dress... I should probably go ahead and buy one, just in case."
At least Bellman was trying to keep a rational front.
"Guys, can we focus on the match here?"
But in the reflection of his glasses, all you could see was Adizel’s face.
That guy even put a magnifying spell on his lenses.
"Turn off the zoom spell before you lecture us, Bellman."
Bellman gave an awkward cough, clearly caught.
Limberton glared at me and said, "How do you look at that face and not feel anything? It’s fine, Bellman—we get it. Let’s all enjoy that magic together, yeah?"
"Limberton, you’ve got perfect eyesight. Why do you even need this kind of thing?"
"Because then I can see her pores."
Bellman shared his magnification spell with the others.
You’d think the women nearby would have something sharp to say about it, but strangely, everyone seemed to just go along with it.
All except for one.
“Adizel... Just seeing that bitch’s face makes me wanna throw up.”
Dorosian looked so pale she could be sick.
Was it because she dared to insult the saint?
Limberton whipped his head around and shot her a glare, but the moment he saw her face, his expression softened like a puppy.
“Heh, hey now, what’s wrong, Dorosian? Don’t tell me the Saint has some kind of dark side? I mean, I could totally embrace even that.”
But Dorosian looked at me, not Limberton, when she answered.
“She’s exactly the way she seems. Super nice. That’s exactly what makes her so hard to stand.”
“Huh? Why?”
Limberton was the one who asked.
But again, Dorosian answered while looking straight at me.
“There’s just no satisfaction in messing with her. Normally it goes something like this.”
She snapped her fingers.
And just like that, Limberton floated into the air and started spinning like a top.
He let out a screech, and Dorosian chuckled.
“When you mess with someone, they’re supposed to react, but her...”
Dorosian stopped and cleared her throat.
Then, mimicking Adizel in a voice so drained it barely qualified as an impression, she said:
“Are you okay, Dorosian? Was it my dust that irritated your throat? Or she’d give you those sparkling eyes and say, ‘We played together, so let’s all be friends now!’”
There really was no one she hadn’t messed with.
“She was so weird I tried hanging out with her for a while just out of curiosity, but if I’d kept going, my insides would’ve burst. She’d cling to your leg saying she had to do some good deed, then apologize and smile at you like this.”
She even mimicked her smiling eyes midway through, but to me, it looked nothing short of demonic.
“Far as I’m concerned, she’s just plain crazy.”
I didn’t say anything.
I didn’t even nod.
Sure, I hadn’t reacted to Adizel the way the other guys did.
That was probably because I’d seen her hundreds of times, and thanks to a realistic mindset, I was naturally put off by the overly unreal personality Dorosian described.
But the real reason I didn’t say anything was because in my book, the definition of “crazy bitch” also included the kind of woman who could spin a person like a top and laugh her guts out over someone throwing up.
“...Go ahead and put him down. He’s supposed to compete too.”
I said it because I was worried Limberton might embarrass himself—and me—in front of everyone again.
But Dorosian, as if determined to get a final answer, asked me again.
“You think she’s a crazy bitch too, right?”
Only then did I give her a nod.
Yeah.
She really is a crazy bitch.