Academy’s New Guard is Unusual - Chapter 121

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 121
I’ve lived a pretty rough life since the possession.
My insane father put me through Aura Tempering, a witch used me for experiments, the Church captured and trained me, I’ve been broken on battlefields, and I’ve even been devoured by a greater demon.
I pride myself on having seen every kind of hardship. But—
‘This takes the cake.’
I drooled watching Evangeline flail her arms about with such enthusiasm.
Evangeline’s dancing wasn’t just talentless—it was grotesque.
It went beyond lacking ability, reaching a level where I suspected she might be cursed.
The real problem was the confidence radiating from Evangeline’s face.
The grotesque movements combined with that self-assured smile created a truly horrifying synergy.
The Arena, packed with thousands of people, had gone silent.
Even the Crimson Mercenary Corps soldiers lost their words and turned away.
To render the infamous Crimson Mercenary Corps speechless with dancing—impressive in its own terrible way.
[Oh, the champion today will receive a prize! Yes!]
The Announcer, coming to his senses belatedly, called out urgently.
The crowd cheered a beat too late, but with nothing like their earlier fervor.
I had no idea how Evangeline had ended up captured as a prize, but it clarified my objective.
‘Win the duel, and everything works out.’
Then I can catch the monster and save Evangeline too.
At that moment, Milo hesitated and asked.
“Where exactly is this?”
“The Ragnarok Continent. A place where might makes right—literally.”
“Ragnarok? The atmosphere seems… unusual.”
“The inhabitants of Ragnarok fundamentally wield Aura.”
“Come on, don’t joke around. How can everyone here wield Aura?”
I pointed to the spectator section.
The crowd was waving weapons wreathed in blue Aura like Cheering Batons, roaring their approval.
Seeing that, Milo’s face twitched.
“Y-you’re serious? Everyone here wields Aura?”
“Can’t, and you’re dead.”
“What?”
“Ragnarok is a place where only the strong survive.”
“What kind of barbarous place is that?”
“That’s why it’s destroyed. Everyone fought until only one was left.”
“Now surely you’re jesting—”
“Jesting?”
At my counter, Milo’s face went pale.
Just then, the Announcer, having collected himself, continued.
[Now! The next opponent is—!]
The Announcer pointed toward the Crimson Mercenary Corps section.
The iron bars of the pen holding the mercenaries rose with a loud clang.
Even if the Crimson Mercenary Corps was mad for war, the Ragnarok Rift would be new to them.
It was reasonable to expect some tension, yet the soldiers ascended calmly into the Arena.
Not one, but four of them came up—and the Announcer showed no confusion.
If anything, he grinned as if delighted.
[Oh! It looks like the next battle will be a team fight! The more blood, the better!!]
The Announcer pointed to the opposite side. As the bars rose, four hideously scarred gladiators emerged like beasts, howling.
“Oooh! Ooh!”
The gladiators’ bodies were covered in scars and muscle.
Bloodlust rippled off them openly. They twitched restlessly, desperate to kill someone immediately.
They were closer to warriors than Knights. And not just warriors—Berserkers.
“Why does this feel so sinister?”
Even Milo’s tongue flicked out nervously.
The Crimson Mercenary soldiers, their true opponents, simply took their stance.
[Now! Get ready—.]
The Announcer raised his hand high, then swept it down.
[Kill each other!!]
“I’ll kill you first!”
“No, me!”
“Kahahaha!”
The four gladiators charged forward, competing with one another, drool hanging from their mouths.
One of the Crimson Mercenaries stepped forward and drew his sword. The other three spread like wings on either side of him.
The soldier on the left thrust forward a staff embedded with a skull. Black Curse spilled across that staff.
As the Curse engulfed the gladiators, their ferocious charge suddenly slowed to a crawl.
Another soldier traced the sign of the cross. Pure white light fell upon the leading mercenary, and his Aura deepened.
A Blessing.
The last soldier scattered mana across the ground. Not at the gladiators themselves, but the floor beneath them—coating it in blue frost.
Magic couldn’t directly affect Aura itself, so he’d targeted the ground.
Then the leading mercenary and the gladiators collided.
Attacks crossed in rapid succession.
Gladiators slowed by Curse. A mercenary strengthened by Blessing. And a floor locked in magical ice.
Naturally, the gladiators were pushed back. The advantage shifted instantly to the Crimson forces.
Yet despite their clear disadvantage, the gladiators threw themselves forward without hesitation.
They didn’t yield—they pressed harder, willing to break bone for flesh.
Their ferocious drive landed hits, but—
“Blessed be.”
Pure white light enveloped the mercenary, and the wounds vanished instantly.
The leading soldier severed the gladiators’ necks without emotion.
As if four bodies shared one will, every motion executed with perfect precision.
The four gladiators who’d charged so eagerly collapsed without managing to exert themselves.
This wasn’t a battle.
It was a one-sided hunt.
“They seem strong too, yet they won so easily. Why?”
Milo asked in shock.
I pointed to them above and explained.
“The Crimson Mercenary Corps organizes into four-person squads—one Knight, one mage, one priest, one Dark Mage—and shifts tactics to exploit their enemy. Against a Knight they deploy Curse; against a dark mage they summon Holy power.”
Even after felling four gladiators, the Crimson soldiers’ breathing remained perfectly steady.
“They don’t wage war—they hunt. That’s why they’re called humanity’s hunters.”
“Hunting, you say—”
Milo swallowed hard.
I added casually.
“Still, it’s just tricks.”
“That’s… tricks?”
Milo pointed at the Crimson Mercenary Corps with disbelief.
They’d just killed four men, yet showed no sign of strain whatsoever.
They moved like machines, methodically cleaning and maintaining their weapons.
“Just tricks. Why run around in packs of four? One person mastering all four specialties would be enough.”
“Does everyone manage to master four specialties?”
“No, it takes talent. Like me.”
“……”
Milo looked at me with an expression of annoyance.
“What.”
“Nothing.”
Then the crowd erupted, cheering the Crimson Mercenaries.
“Waaaaaah!!”
“Incredible! You lot!!”
[What an incredible team battle! We’ll clear away the trash and begin the next match! And now, a commercial break!!]
The Announcer pointed upward.
Thousands of eyes turned back to Evangeline—
“Huff! Ha! Ha!”
And she began dancing again.
“Ooooh—!”
“Worst thing ever!”
The crowd booed, but Evangeline was lost in ecstasy, even striking bizarre poses between steps.
The attention had exceeded all limits, and reason had simply shut down.
Meanwhile, others came up and haphazardly cleared the corpses of the gladiators. The job was so careless that the bodies we’d thrown in the corner were still visible.
Once the Arena was cleared, the Announcer opened his mouth again.
[Now! Let’s begin the next match! The opponent this time is—!]
The Announcer gestured to another Crimson Mercenary Corps team—the soldiers waiting in the adjacent holding pen.
‘They just go in order, then.’
It seemed to be running like a standard dueling ground.
That wasn’t good.
I’d been keeping my attention on the rear exit. I had no idea when the Overseer might discover this Chasm, and I couldn’t afford to wait for my turn.
Plus, more of them could show up, like another Crimson Mercenary Corps.
And above all—I’d have to watch Evangeline’s dancing again.
‘Time to speedrun this.’
I had no desire to witness that dance twice.
I hastily reached for the bars.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Queue-jumping.”
“You say that queue-jumping with such nonchalance.”
“On the Ragnarok Continent, the strong rule. I’m practically emperor.”
“The way you say it so brazenly— Though I don’t doubt your strength, still… isn’t the number of opponents too much?”
Milo gestured outside, questioning.
Thousands of spectators were visible, wielding Aura-wrapped weapons like Cheering Batons.
“It’ll be fine. As long as I follow the rules, the crowd stays put.”
“……Isn’t queue-jumping against the rules?”
“More or less.”
“More or less—”
Milo shook his head in resignation, then moved to stand behind me.
I shook my head.
“I’ll draw their attention. You get Evangeline out.”
“She seems to be enjoying herself plenty as it is— but understood.”
Milo nodded reluctantly.
I tested the bars by tapping them. They were as thick as a grown man’s forearm.
I exhaled long and deep, summoned my Aura, and pushed.
Boom—a heavy sound rang out as the bars buckled.
The noise was considerable, so the Announcer stopped mid-sentence and looked toward me.
Thousands of spectators fixed their gaze on me at once.
I waved casually and climbed into the Arena.
The Announcer’s face twisted as he watched.
[Duels proceed in order. Get in line now.]
The Announcer warned in a low voice.
The atmosphere turned sinister in an instant. Some spectators even gripped weapons, ready to intervene.
The way to suppress resistance was simple.
‘Show them something more spectacle than that.’
I adjusted my grip on the Security Staff.
* * *
‘What in the world is he trying—’
Milo swallowed hard, watching Grave’s back.
The bloody Arena had chunks of flesh and bone scattered everywhere, painting the ground crimson.
Thousands of Volcan-like figures loomed in the spectator section—even Milo, inside the pen, felt the weight of their presence.
Yet Grave stepped forward without a care.
Despite the concentrated hostility of thousands, Grave remained composed and aloof.
[If you don’t step down at once, I’ll slit your throat and drink your blood, you fool.]
The Announcer pointed at Grave and summoned his Aura. That Aura was no trifle.
‘The Announcer is an Upper-Rank Knight?’
Why was an Upper-Rank Knight working as an announcer?
But it wasn’t just him. Thousands of spectators were all summoning their Aura simultaneously.
Witnessing this for the first time, Milo’s tongue flicked out.
‘What is he actually trying to—’
Then Grave leaped toward the Announcer. His speed was so fierce it blurred.
[Fool!]
The Announcer scoffed and swung a massive Axe at Grave. Aura rippled violently along its edge.
The Announcer’s Aura was twice as dense as Grave’s.
Yet the outcome was the opposite.
Snap.
The Announcer’s Aura shattered first.
Snap.
Then the axe, brutally thick, split clean in two.
Snap.
The Announcer’s head rolled across the floor.
One slash.
In a single stroke, Grave severed the Aura, the Axe, and the Announcer himself.
Surrounded by thousands.
In such circumstances, Grave had attacked the Announcer.
The overwhelming Martial Prowess silenced the Arena instantly.
‘That lunatic—’
Milo knew Grave was mad, but this crossed all boundaries.
The enraged crowd would swarm him immediately, no question.
Just as Milo rushed forward—
Clap, clap.
Applause rang out from somewhere.
A man seated like a king in the upper section of the Arena.
Clap, clap, clap!
The applause spread like wildfire in all directions.
Soon a thunderous ovation and cheers erupted.
Grave accepted the applause as though it were his due—
“Now, the next.”
He spoke flatly toward the Crimson Mercenaries.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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