BIAC 09

Chapter 9

The reason Ludwig had ignored Deus was simple.

There was nothing in him that spoke of a battle-hardened veteran, nothing of the aura, the momentum of someone seasoned by war.

No measured restraint, no edge sharp enough to cut upon touch—Deus carried none of it.

All that was left were stories: “He achieved this, he did that.”

Perhaps he was hiding true skill—Ludwig didn’t rule that out.

And so, for the past month, he had relentlessly provoked him.

To ensure that if Deus truly deserved the title of war hero, Ludwig would be unable to overlook it.

“And yet, he never reacted. No, he avoided meeting me head-on.”

That was the moment Ludwig gained certainty.

This man was not the extraordinary fighter some claimed him to be.

He was nothing more than a fool put forth by the Empire to appease the commoners.

If Deus had continued his quiet, obedient existence, Ludwig would have scoffed silently and left it at that.

But he crossed the line.

He dared to reject a princess’s offer, to threaten nobles, to defy the long-standing order of the Empire.

Ludwig expected the Imperial military would understand such audacity.

That was why he had arranged the duel with this so-called war hero today.

“But… how?”

Crash—!

Ludwig barely avoided the axe by mere inches, creating distance between them.

Had he been even slightly slower, the blade would have pierced him rather than the wall.

A chill ran down his spine. He felt death brush past him.

“Damn it!”

Words unbecoming of a noble escaped his lips, though the battlefield had trained him for such utterances.

At first, his strikes had been a beat too late.

He only managed to parry the incoming magic projectiles.

Pathetic, he had thought. This would end miserably.

But before he realized it, Deus was moving in perfect sync with him.

It was as if he could predict every attack, every motion.

Whenever a spell flew, Deus’s defenses were already perfect. Any feint was met with a lightning-fast axe.

No matter the choice Ludwig made, Deus’s eyes were already there.

His limbs were immobilized in an instant.

Whatever move he tried, Deus had already reached the spot first.

Clang—!

“Ugh!”

The damn commoner was ridiculously strong.

Ludwig gritted his teeth, pushing away the axe that came at his arm.

Had it not been for his defensive magic, his arm would have been severed in a single strike.

Anger and a creeping fear surged simultaneously.

He realized he had made a grave mistake by letting him roam freely at first.

If only he had harassed him from a distance with magic, then lured him in with a gap.

Deus would have assumed he controlled the melee, only to be struck hard instead.

Regret flooded him, but it was far too late.

He had underestimated the opponent, revealed his full strength—and now, he would pay the price.

“Tsk, tsk.”

Vincent, seated and observing the duel, clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“This is exactly why I warned him.”

As a noble, seeing someone swagger solely because of their lineage was nauseating.

The Empire had been at war with the demons for over ten years.

Immense resources, lives, and efforts had been spent.

What the Empire needed now was not nobles flaunting their pedigree, but those who could deliver decisive victories.

In that sense, having Deus as an instructor was a blessing.

His battlefield experience, survival skills, and the unbelievable feat of killing one of the Demon Lord’s Four Subordinates—it was all true.

Some foolish people spread rumors or exaggerated tales, but Vincent knew the truth.

He also knew certain factions tried to suppress it, fearing the commoners would rally behind Deus.

Yet, most of the fools believed the rumors anyway.

Vincent remained silent—not to suppress the commoners, but to maintain the presence of a genuine war hero in the academy.

“Better to let people think it’s just rumor than risk losing him as an instructor.”

Clang!

Another axe strike was deflected by Ludwig’s defensive magic, now unstable despite concentrated mana.

Even at full effort, he was being overwhelmed.

Initially, Deus had moved cautiously. Now, he was untethered, chaotic.

Axes struck without warning, unbound by magical defenses, each movement seeming to anticipate Ludwig’s every response.

It was as if he were a lifetime-experienced lumberjack—deciding in an instant where to swing, pouring all power into a single blow capable of felling a massive tree without hesitation.

Vincent couldn’t help but smile inwardly.

“You ignored my advice, Ludwig. Handle it yourself.”

The duel had already been decided.

No tree could withstand such a lumberjack. Deus would continue until his opponent was broken, then split and burn every branch—a battlefield killing machine.

“Chancellor…”

The other instructors, present as witnesses, were restless.

They approached, hoping to stop the onslaught—but it was absurd.

“Stopping it now would mean asking Ludwig to admit defeat. And they didn’t want that burden.”

Vincent sighed. High positions meant responsibility, even when unrelated.

“Tell both instructors to stop here. End the duel.”

At that exact moment, Ludwig’s defensive spell was about to shatter.

Deus’s final axe swing was halted midair.

Gasping, Ludwig barely held himself together, while Deus lowered his axe with a faint sense of disappointment.

“Ludwig Instructor…”

“Are you alright?”

The other instructors gathered around, witnessing something unexpected: Ludwig’s vacant eyes, slack lips, and repeated shallow sighs.

It was a state they recognized—the look of those who had faced the demons in battle, survived with their body intact, but had their spirit shattered.

“Even Ludwig… after countless battles… can be brought to this.”

Nearby, Deus casually walked off, axe at his hip, as if taking a leisurely stroll.

The next day, Ludwig was nowhere to be seen.

Students searched for him, rumors began circulating:

“Ludwig lost the duel and was carried off!”

“He was gravely injured, maybe life-threatening!”

As usual, the tales were heavily exaggerated.

The instructors eventually had to clarify:

“Ludwig is fine. Just… shocked. He’s resting.”

Students were insistent.

“He lost? Who did he duel?”

Finally, one instructor revealed the truth:

“Deus. The new war-hero instructor of commoner origin.”

The students buzzed with excitement and disbelief.

Deus, a commoner, a true war hero—even rumors aside, had toppled one of the academy’s finest instructors.

Meanwhile, Princess Edelweiss Tricia reflected quietly, her interest rekindled.

“It seems he has made up his mind. Perhaps he chose silence to accept neither disregard nor contempt… or, like a true war hero, he has calculated how his actions would benefit the Empire.”

“He said he would pull those who could rise forward, and push aside those who could not. That is the way of war heroes.”

Indeed, she understood. A commoner war hero, a killer of the Demon Lord’s subordinates—anyone in the academy could not help but take notice.

When she first approached him for guidance, he had politely refused.

Initially, it had stung, but she came to respect his boldness.

“Arrange a meeting with this Deus. But persuasion will be entirely up to me.”

“I didn’t expect anything anyway.”