Academy’s New Guard is Unusual - Chapter 122

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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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Episode 122
‘A powerhouse.’
Belson of the Crimson Mercenary Group narrowed his eyes as he studied the man across from him.
The man had the bearing of a wild wolf. The scent of blood clung to him—thick and coppery.
Such a dense blood-smell couldn’t come from just a few kills. At minimum, he’d slaughtered hundreds.
Of course, they were still just prey to him.
“The target is at least a high-rank Knight. Strengthen the Curses, boost the Blessings for speed. Mel, he’s already seen your magic—switch to something different.”
Belson barked his orders. His team formed a formation centered on him.
Then the man kicked off the ground and shot straight at Belson.
“Dullness Curse.”
A black Curse sprayed from behind, arcing toward the man.
At the same moment, pure white light engulfed Belson. A Blessing.
As the Blessing took hold, Belson’s body felt weightless. The enemy’s movements came into sharp focus.
“Now.”
At Belson’s command, brilliant firelight erupted from behind. It was Mel’s magic.
Since the target was a Knight, direct attacks wouldn’t work.
So Mel was trying to blind him with the flash, disrupting his vision.
The instant the light burst, both the Curse and Belson’s blade moved in perfect synchrony.
If the man dodged the Curse, Belson’s blade would take his throat.
But he couldn’t take the Curse either. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to move properly.
There was nowhere to escape.
Yet the man didn’t dodge.
He actually pushed forward faster.
He seemed intent on taking the Curse head-on.
‘Fool.’
No matter how strong a Knight was, Curses couldn’t be evaded.
Then—
“Damned be you, O Divine.”
An extremely irreverent prayer echoed. Simultaneously, brilliant white light blazed up behind the man.
“A, a High Priest?!”
A gasp of shock came from behind.
A High Priest required rank equivalent to a Cardinal to use that power.
But why did that creature have—
The Curse scattered harmlessly as it touched the white radiance.
Belson was caught off guard, but he swung his blade anyway.
The Curse hadn’t worked, but he still had the Blessing’s protection.
Then a blue projectile streaked past Belson’s side.
Thunk. The sound of impact rang out, and the pure white light cloaking Belson suddenly vanished.
He glanced back to see a blue Mana Bolt lodged in the priest’s brow. A direct hit.
‘He eliminated the priest first? This bastard knows how to fight us.’
The man, now mere steps away, swung a Black Aura.
With the Blessing gone, he couldn’t meet that Aura head-on. He had to dodge.
The problem was, his teammates were within striking distance.
If Belson evaded, his men would die.
The man’s blank eyes seemed to speak volumes.
‘Choose—you or your men.’
Belson twisted aside.
Thunk. The dark mage’s head flew into the air before falling.
The Security Staff didn’t slow.
Thunk. The mage’s head tilted sideways as his body crumpled.
Two heads hit the ground nearly simultaneously.
It all happened in a single breath.
That was when Belson truly understood.
Just as the Crimson Mercenary Group hunted Knights by exploiting their weaknesses, this creature was hunting them the same way—systematically, methodically.
All while wielding four Attributes alone.
Belson’s mind flashed back to something his unit commander had once said.
The Crimson Mercenary Group went wherever war took them, save for one place.
The Southern Front.
For a group that loved war as much as the Crimson Mercenaries, to avoid the continent’s largest battlefield was extraordinary—and it was the commander’s direct order.
The commander had warned them: on the Southern Front lived the “Hound Master.”
The Crimson teams wielded four Attributes across four members. The Hound Master wielded four Attributes alone.
They could never defeat him. Under no circumstances were they to go to the Southern Front.
So the Crimson Mercenary Group had never gone.
But now—
“This isn’t the Southern Front though…….”
Those were Belson’s last words.
* * *
‘Still as predictable as ever.’
I clicked my tongue and brushed off the Security Staff.
The Crimson Mercenary Group’s strength was simple: four members, each wielding one Attribute, combined into a single team that could hunt anything on the continent.
They’d become the greatest mercenaries in the world because of it.
They were, in essence, a crude copy of me.
No matter how hard four people trained together, achieving perfect synchrony, they’d never catch up to me.
I raised my gaze and stared at the Grotesque Being.
It still sat in that throne-like chair, looming above me. But unlike before, its eyes now glinted with something like intrigue.
I spoke to it.
“I’m a bit busy, so let’s end this in one go.”
Its mouth twisted into a smile. Truly a vicious one.
Soon, the Iron Bars on all sides began to open.
Beyond the opening doors, I could see the Crimson Mercenary Group and gladiators dressed in Crimson Armor.
Every eye was fixed on me.
The Crimson mercenaries simply watched, motionless in their positions.
They seemed wary, recalculating after witnessing my power.
They were probably doing mental arithmetic right now. The Crimson Mercenaries were nothing if not ruthlessly pragmatic.
But the gladiators were different.
“A powerful one!!”
“Hahahaha! Fight me!!”
They rushed at me, eyes rolled back in frenzy.
It was the nature of Ragnarok Continent.
On Ragnarok, the strong didn’t flee from strength.
The stronger the opponent, the more they welcomed it.
For them, death at the hands of the powerful was the highest honor.
‘Battle-drunk savages.’
As the gladiators charged, the Crimson mercenaries stirred to action.
They moved to fill the gaps between the gladiators, trying to box me in. They’d reached their conclusions quickly, it seemed.
The Crimson Mercenary Group’s true strength lay in their Coordinated Attacks—interlocking like gears.
Fighting them alongside crude, undisciplined gladiators actually undermined their advantage.
They knew it too, no doubt.
Their plan was probably to weave through the gladiators, mixing in magic and Curses to drain my Vitality gradually.
‘Still the same shallow tricks.’
I clicked my tongue and readjusted my grip on the Security Staff.
Then the gladiator in front laughed heartily and thrust his blade forward.
He seemed confident in his Aura. In fact, his Aura was quite distinct.
Unfortunately for him, the matchup was bad.
My Black Aura cut through his cleanly and took his throat as well.
‘Black Aura is really something.’
I couldn’t help but marvel at it afresh.
An Aura is a Knight’s pride.
Unless the gap between combatants is vast, an Aura doesn’t shatter or break.
For that reason, Knights have a habit of gauging opponents by testing their Auras first.
But Black Aura cuts straight through—it severs an opponent’s Aura the moment they clash.
This was why the gladiators fell helplessly to me.
Even knowing Black Aura was dangerous, breaking a lifetime of ingrained habit in the heat of battle wasn’t simple.
Of course, Black Aura had its drawbacks.
‘It devours Vitality like a madman.’
Black Aura consumed more Vitality than High-rank Dark Magic. The drain was palpable.
I’d planned to replenish with Dark Magic, but Vitality came from an unexpected source.
‘Every time I sever a throat with Black Aura, my Vitality refills.’
Now I understood why the principal in his Rampage State had slaughtered the entire continent.
It was the only way he could sustain himself.
Then suddenly, pure white light flooded my surroundings.
The gladiators charging at me from all sides blazed with pure white luminescence.
It was high-level Blessing.
The Crimson mercenaries had decided to commit fully to the gladiators.
They’d probably calculated they couldn’t beat me directly.
These gladiators had spent their lives training nothing but Aura.
When such men received a Blessing, the change was noticeable.
Their speed became so fast it blurred.
This was why Priests and Knights paired so well.
The tension of the moment crawled up the back of my neck.
‘Now it’s getting interesting.’
The long-forgotten scent of the battlefield surged through me, and blood thundered in my veins.
My heart hammered violently, and my vision expanded.
‘Mana Bolt.’
A Mana Bolt fired from my left hand.
The gladiator didn’t dodge. Mana Bolt was a basic spell, after all.
He calculated it couldn’t pierce his Aura.
He was right.
Mana Bolt can’t pierce an Aura.
But it can absolutely pierce holy radiance.
The Mana Bolt struck, and the pure white Blessing faded instantly. The gladiator’s blade slowed naturally.
Caught off guard, he hesitated—just for a moment.
A moment’s hesitation was an eternity on the battlefield.
Then I felt a prickling sensation from behind. I shifted my stance fluidly.
The muscles in my back screamed at the sudden shift, but the pure white sanctity healed them instantly.
My eyes met those of the gladiator trying to take my head from behind.
The one who’d charged in so eagerly froze when he saw me.
My reflection appeared in his pupils.
I was smiling.
Truly, genuinely smiling.
― “Why do you keep smiling like that, sir? Every time you take a head, you’re grinning ear to ear—that’s why everyone calls you the Hound Master.”
To that question, I wanted to ask back.
“Isn’t it fun?”
There was no answer.
* * *
‘Is this right?’
Milo muttered to himself as he looked down at the arena floor.
More than a hundred fighters surrounded Grave, pressing their attack. Some spectators had even leaped down from the stands in their excitement.
He knew Grave was strong, but this was overwhelming numbers.
Even for Grave, how could anyone handle nearly a hundred opponents at once?
Then—
Boom! A massive pillar of flame crashed down where Grave stood.
The heat reached even Milo from this distance—it was terrifyingly powerful magic.
‘Brother!!’
Milo was about to rush forward when the flames parted, and Grave emerged. He hadn’t fully dodged; flames still clung to his body, flickering.
Grave was drenched in blood from head to toe.
His condition was brutal, yet his expression was not.
Grave was smiling.
He seemed to genuinely be enjoying this.
“Good. Let’s continue.”
Grave brushed off the Security Staff as he spoke.
The gladiators who’d been throwing themselves at him without reservation faltered.
The Crimson mercenaries also stepped back.
“Not coming? Fine. I’ll come to you.”
Grave kicked off the ground and charged the gladiators.
“Block him! Block!!”
“All units coordinate! Help us!!”
The Crimson mercenaries and gladiators cried out desperately.
That was when Milo realized his mistake.
Grave wasn’t the one being forced to fight over a hundred enemies.
It was the other way around—they had to face Grave.
‘No need to worry.’
Milo decided he should focus on the task Grave had given him.
With every eye in the arena on Grave, moving was simple.
Still, Milo moved cautiously toward where Evangeline was.
She was still in the spot where she’d been dancing.
Her feet were shackled with Iron Chains.
Impressive she’d managed to dance at all in those bonds.
Milo clicked his tongue as he approached her.
Then Evangeline turned to look at him.
Normally, Evangeline seemed somewhat vacant. She couldn’t even maintain eye contact with people properly. At first glance, there was a peculiar frailty about her.
But now, her eyes were sharply focused.
More than that—
“Sir Milo, this is grave. This Chasm’s Grotesque Being grows stronger with blood.”
Evangeline spoke in a crisp, clear tone.
Combined with her bearing, there was an undeniable dignity to her presence.
She looked more like Imperial Family than the Crown Prince himself.
And Milo’s response was—
“You’re not Evangeline, are you, you bastard.”
He grabbed her by the collar without hesitation.

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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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