My Disciples Became Scoundrels - Chapter 19

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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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The moment I finished speaking, Gaspar and the guild members erupted in furious protest.
Angry voices filled the air, but Cassian alone remained composed. He adjusted his stance and spoke.
“If I lose, I’ll apologize gladly enough.”
There was something like satisfaction in him. He seemed to think I was bluffing in response to his provocation.
We repositioned ourselves. He drew a well-honed blade from its sheath.
I faced him with my left hand clasped behind my back and my right hand gripping the Jam Knife.
The chatter died away. Silence descended. It felt as though only the swordsman and his blade remained in this world.
Dong…!
The arbiter rang the gong, and Cassian came at me. His sword traced a clean arc, each strike crisp and sharp.
It was fast. Fast enough to earn him the title of this guild’s ace.
But not by Balanus’s standard.
Whoosh!
I leaned back slightly and deflected his attack. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.
Clang!
A brief metallic ring sounded. The Jam Knife tapped lightly against his blade. That was enough. His center of gravity wavered, his thrust went wide, his balance shattered.
A gap opened.
I pressed into it without hesitation. The Jam Knife lightly pricked his chest. I saw the shock bloom in Cassian’s eyes.
“One.”
At those words, Cassian clenched his teeth and quickly withdrew, seemingly intent on regrouping.
But I had no intention of dragging this match out. I pressed forward immediately.
Clang! Clang!
Each time he swung his blade, the Jam Knife and sword met with a bright ringing. Even though it was a large Bastard Sword, it sounded fragile.
For my part, I didn’t need much strength. Precision was all that mattered—strike the right point and even modest force would suffice.
Crash!
When I struck his blade away a second time with the Jam Knife, he staggered heavily. In that moment, I drove the blade toward the space between his brows.
“Two.”
The Jam Knife, being blunt, left no wound. But it would have drawn blood from his pride. Cassian’s expression, once calm, began to twist.
“How dare you…!”
As his excitement flared, blue Mana began to leak from him. Gasps of alarm rippled through the onlookers.
“He’s using Mana in a sparring match?”
“Wait, Cassian…!”
As the Mana surged, his attacks became far more vicious.
Cassian’s blade poured toward me. The air was torn asunder. It was a beautiful blade.
I found myself genuinely impressed. For someone in his mid-twenties, his skill was formidable.
Cassian’s sword was fierce and certain—it knew exactly where it needed to go.
I simply blocked its path.
Screech!
Each time the blades locked, brief metallic shrieks and sparks erupted.
I evaded his strikes, reversed my grip on the Jam Knife, and swung it in a wide arc.
The blunt end of the Jam Knife found his throat. He froze solid.
“Three.”
The arena fell silent. I slowly withdrew my hand and turned to face Gaspar.
“I trust you’ll honor your promise, Gaspar.”
Those words seemed to shake Gaspar back to his senses. Bewilderment gave way to anger and urgency across his face.
“You proved your own strength! The other two still need to demonstrate theirs!”
It was plain obstructionism. I didn’t particularly care, so I nodded.
“As you wish.”
Cesare and Jenia then stepped forward to spar. I’d expected that after a three-minute match, Cassian would be tired enough for someone else to take his place.
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it myself!”
Cassian insisted he was fine and practically threw himself forward. Perhaps it was thirst for redemption. I could have used someone fresher, but I didn’t bother stopping him.
So Cassian and Cesare’s match began.
Cesare won.
He subdued his opponent without much difficulty. I could feel the confusion spreading through Cassian’s swordwork—the lingering effects of our bout clearly still plagued him.
Cassian seemed to spiral further into panic. He stepped forward before Jenia, teeth grinding.
“No! This time, I really…!”
Three minutes later, he was a ragged mess, thoroughly bound by Jenia’s tentacles. Cassian gnashed his teeth in humiliation.
“Blast it… just kill me…!”
“No. It’s only sparring.”
Jenia answered indifferently and released him. All the guild members sat slack-jawed, Gaspar among them.
I watched Gaspar in silence.
“Will you honor your promise, or will you do more?”
“I shall employ Balanus as an assistant for this dungeon.”
No guild member objected. Even though we were newcomers with only three members.
Having demonstrated such overwhelming skill, no one would dare oppose us easily.
“And… I ask forgiveness from Cesare Balanus. I beg your pardon for the insult I dealt you.”
Seeing this, Cesare’s mouth split into a grin so wide it nearly touched his ears. Honestly, even I had to admit it looked a bit insufferable.
“Ah, well! Of course I forgive you. You called me garbage, but magnanimous as I am, I’ll overlook it!”
Cesare grinned at Cassian.
“What about you? You need to apologize too?”
Cassian’s face flushed crimson with shame. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white, and he worked his lips soundlessly.
“To Cesare Balanus, I… I…”
As Cassian struggled to ask for forgiveness, Cesare smirked. Cassian’s eyes flashed with anger, and he suddenly bellowed.
“I cannot! That I should apologize to this alcoholic trash—!”
He stormed out without apologizing. Young Gaspar used to flee the same way without making amends.
I led my disciples out of the guild. Cesare was still chuckling.
“That Cassian brat looked pathetic. And he can’t stop fixating on that Jam Knife?”
“Didn’t he run off without apologizing to you? Are you sure that’s alright?”
“Yeah. I’m magnanimous enough to forgive him anyway.”
Watching my excited disciples, I smiled silently to myself. Then I gazed quietly at my own hands.
I won, but something felt incomplete. I could have ended it faster.
Finding my disciples was important, but so was restoring my strength to its prime. No—I needed to become stronger still.
The remnants of those attackers from fifteen years ago might still be out there.
My immediate goals were clear: find my disciples, gather intelligence on the attackers. Yet another question lingered.
Why had I been revived at all?
Who brought me back?
There were Undead like skeletons and liches, but I’d never heard of anyone being restored so completely, so fully intact.
The mysteries were many, but my task was singular.
Grow stronger. Find my disciples. That came first.
* * *
A week later, morning arrived.
The day to visit the Twilight Swallow’s Nest and the dungeon had come. Jenia, who’d been sleeping in slime form in the bathtub, drifted downstairs half-asleep, and Cesare, still in his underclothes, arrived yawning widely.
“Yawn… why do we have to go to a dungeon this early? I mean, even thirty minutes late wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t?”
“…that won’t work! Right! I should get ready!”
One steady look and Cesare scrambled to prepare. It was already eight o’clock. Before we left, I asked him to confirm something.
“You’ve reviewed the dungeon information the guild provided, haven’t you?”
“Of course. A Persistent Dungeon, they said? It appeared twenty years ago. The name is Bitan.”
Dungeons divide into two main types: Persistent and Sudden.
A Persistent Dungeon enters a Dormancy Period after its boss is defeated, then regenerates after a set interval.
A freshly spawned dungeon is dangerous even if it’s only one floor, but as you repeatedly clear it, it weakens and eventually vanishes.
“Still, you retained it well.”
“What do you take me for? I also heard that Bitan has stopped weakening for some time now.”
He’d paid attention to the explanation well?
This was somewhat unexpected. Had our boy really changed so much? As I looked at him with a curious expression, Cesare chuckled.
“Just because I haven’t studied doesn’t mean I’m stupid, you know?”
“Who was the twelfth king of this kingdom?”
“I need to use the bathroom for a moment.”
Cesare vanished quickly. Perhaps I should provide more basic education.
Meanwhile, Jenia seemed excited, like someone heading out on an excursion.
“I’ve never been to this dungeon before, so I’m so curious. What will it look like? What kind of Magical Beasts will appear? How strong will they be?”
“Well, I only went there once, way back. I couldn’t say what it’s like now.”
A dungeon is strongest at its first generation. The Kingdom Knights were wiped out in Bitan.
At my words, Jenia’s eyes sparkled like stars had been planted in them. She asked with a gaze full of curiosity and admiration.
“Could it be that you were the first to conquer Bitan?”
“Something like that.”
“Then you must be incredibly strong.”
Jenia’s face lit with wonder and joy. I realized anew that my strength was my disciples’ happiness.
Bitan, then. Once I’d gone there with my comrades, but now I would go with my disciples. The feeling was oddly poignant.
Just then, having finished his business, Cesare returned. Jenia tilted her head.
“Brother, who was the twelfth kingdom ruler? Tell me.”
“Master, we should hurry. We’re going to be late.”
Leading Jenia, who kept firing questions at me, we made our way toward the appointed place.
The meeting point was a deserted Rocky Field. On the largest boulder, there was a dark opening like a hole.
From that bottomless chasm, an ominous Mana flickered. That was the entrance to the Persistent Dungeon.
“Oh, the Twilight Swallow’s Nest people are coming.”
About twenty guild members approached from across the field. Gaspar wasn’t among them, but Cassian was.
Last time he’d been thoroughly defeated and looked somewhat pitiful, but today his bearing was refined and dignified.
Only his gaze toward us wasn’t kind.
“Balanus. You’re late. Have you lost your mind?”
……But we’d arrived about fifteen minutes early.
It was a statement that made little sense. We’d come before them, and we’d arrived before the appointed time in the first place.
“I was under the impression the gathering time was nine o’clock.”
“Shouldn’t you have arrived at least an hour before the gathering time to prepare? You should have come early to organize items and clean the dungeon entrance—isn’t that common sense?”
It’s true that support members enter and clear the dungeon entrance, but there’s no need to do it beforehand.
This being called common sense? Has society become a complete mess in fifteen years?
In the midst of this, Cesare suddenly bellowed.
“At least have some restraint with your power trip! Common sense? You’re the one with a warped sense of time!”
“Coming from someone who constantly breaks appointed times, your words carry no weight.”
At those words, Cesare’s lips merely trembled. It was true that he’d broken promises before now.
While the two glared at each other menacingly, Jenia looked between them both, then pointed at Cassian and spoke.
“You didn’t keep your promise either.”
“When have I broken a promise?”
“You were supposed to apologize to Cesare, but you didn’t. Even though you lost the duel. Gaspar, the guild master, apologized.”
At those words, Cassian’s expression hardened. Jenia blinked, her voice devoid of emotion as she asked.
“Why won’t you apologize? Why won’t you keep your promise? You lost, didn’t you? You broke your promise too, so why are you blaming Cesare?”

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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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