The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 110

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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 Academy’s Weapon Duplicator Chapter 110
Episode 32: Kraken (2)
Kraken. A legendary sea monster.
Perhaps one of the ten most powerful creatures known to mankind.
In the literature, Kraken typically appears as an enormously large octopus or squid.
In the game Ethius, its appearance is not so different.
The greatest difference between Ethius’s Kraken and the real one.
Kraken is not a single ‘individual.’
Kraken is a spirit.
“Fitting, isn’t it? What’s your real name?”
“My, how could that possibly be?”
Kraken deflected the question with a glib response, but I found myself wondering whether this Kraken might actually be the legendary one.
Kraken is a monster of the abyss, meaning—from humanity’s perspective—a creature from an unreachable frontier. Its intellect and power operate on an entirely different plane than those of some common monster.
But before I could dwell on such thoughts,
I saw Gregory, held fast in Kraken’s grasp.
If I left him like that, he’d be dead within moments.
Menosorpho. Airborne Weaving.
Rank – Legendary.
Gram.
I ‘installed’ Gram behind one of its tentacles and twisted it vertically in a sharp rotation.
Slash.
“…My?”
Gregory tumbled to the ground and coughed violently. It seemed he wasn’t dead yet.
Kraken stared blankly at its severed arm. I’d half-wondered given its appearance, but it clearly felt no pain.
“What did you do? How did you manage that?”
“I cut it.”
“My tentacles cannot be severed by weapons, though?”
That seemed to be the case. Just watching Gregory flounder about proved it.
But I’m different. Weaving is, after all, magic.
I simply severed it with ‘magic.’
“I’m asking how you did it.”
“You don’t need to know.”
And there were reasons you shouldn’t.
“Consider this a warning. The moment you lay a hand on Gregory again, I’ll tear your head clean off.”
“…Hmph.”
Kraken’s mouth curled into a thin smile. It would surely think my threat ninety percent bluster.
But Kraken doesn’t know how its arm was severed. Not until it understands that answer will it take any reckless action.
And I’m in the same position. Airborne Weaving performed with Menosorpho is visible to the enemy’s eye.
It only worked now because I set it behind its field of vision; the slightest mistake would expose me.
And above all, I’m running low on Mana. Will I have a chance to consume a Dragon Heart?
“Fine. I don’t need to kill this little thing anyway. I’ve already taken what I came for.”
With that, Kraken raised its hand, revealing a sheaf of business cards and a recorder gripped within.
It slowly fanned through the business cards.
“Wow, even having used so many, they’re still bunched together. Did Serf want to conquer the world with his own business cards?”
Perhaps that was possible? Muttering to itself, Kraken chuckled softly.
Then it spoke to me.
“Don’t worry. Serf Daniel will go on living in our hearts from now on.”
“What are you planning to do with those?”
At my question, Kraken laughed. The same unpleasant smile as before.
“Kill you.”
“….”
“On the most perfect day, in the most perfect place, I’ll kill you—you, yourself, in whichever form. Well, today isn’t that day. There is a time for all things, so I’ll wait.”
A death threat.
From Indus’s perspective, I as an individual am hardly significant.
What they gain from killing me is probably symbolic value. The symbolism of Roach. My father, Angen of Roach, as an individual, wields greater influence than any other noble.
Perhaps they mean to make my death the signal that ignites the Indus Revolution.
“But honestly, it feels a shame to simply leave it at this, and there’s the matter of this right arm’s value as well.”
With that, Kraken walked backward and sat down on the stairs at the far end of the Grand Hall.
“I think I’ll simply watch from here.”
“…What?”
That was when it happened. With a creak, the door swung open.
The one who entered was Pascal, the basic combat instructor.
“……!”
Pascal walked toward me with heavy, deliberate steps. A blade was already gripped in his hand.
“It wasn’t me—but I have good instincts, so I can tell when someone’s coming, you know~”
I watched Pascal warily.
Serf’s Business Card effect hadn’t worn off yet. That was why Pascal could approach me while holding a sword like this.
“……Pascal.”
I called out his name with a thin hope.
But.
Whoosh!
Pascal swung the blade lightly around him. At once, concentric circles of wind-like Aura spread out widely. Soon a transparent barrier-like thing rose up around Pascal and me.
Weaving, Black Stream
Rank – Common
Workshop Dagger No. 1
I shattered the Necklace to make a dagger and threw it at the barrier as a test.
With a sharp ping, the dagger bounced back. Pascal had locked me in this space.
“Well, with it set up like this, it really does look like a training ground.”
‘Kraken, shut it.’
I drew Nil Jack’s Short Sword and took my stance. The blade Pascal held began to glow. It was Aura. The moment I recognized it, my mind reeled.
I barely deflected an Aura made from bare hands—how much could I withstand this time? And there’s no playfulness in his eyes now.
Weaving, Black Stream
Rank – Unique
Nil Jack’s Short Sword
The Black Stream I’d thrown as a dagger was sucked back into my hand. I gripped Nil Jack’s Short Sword with both hands. There’s nothing else I have right now that can weather Pascal’s assault for long.
Shing!
Crash!
“Ugh……!”
I barely blocked Pascal’s downward strike. I wanted to evade, but there was no time. A grating screech pierced my ears, and I clenched my teeth, my trembling arms holding firm.
The struggle continued. Our blades shifted angle by angle, but remained locked.
‘If we keep clashing like this.’
──The blow just now was too fast to counter.
But if he keeps pressing like this, I have a way.
‘Disarming Strike.’
“……!”
I used the Disarming Strike to send Pascal’s sword flying into the air. This time it worked perfectly. I didn’t lose my own blade, and there was no pain in my body.
The moment I thought, ‘That’s it,’
Thump!
“Argh!”
I took a kick to the abdomen and was sent sliding backward. In that span, Pascal caught his airborne sword again.
That smooth motion, that response. Pascal knows Artzie’s Disarming Strike. Or has he experienced it before?
Snap!
Pascal lunged at me again. Another vertical slash from above.
I blocked it, but felt an odd sense of dissonance.
The reason I’d struggled to block Pascal’s attacks during class was because his strikes had a dazzling, hard-to-counter complexity.
So even in jest, it felt like death for me. Eventually an opening would appear, and I’d have no choice but to deploy Weaving.
But this Pascal was different. His attacks were utterly simple. Just straightforward strikes and pure clashing of strength. Nothing like him at all.
What is this? Is it the Business Card’s effect? Is his consciousness suppressed so he can only manage basic attacks?
That was when it happened.
While our blades scraped against each other and we stood locked in a test of strength,
Pascal’s mouth opened. He made no sound, but his lips moved.
And with those lips,
──’Do you know how to use Doksunsu? Frontdier.’
He spoke.
“……!”
In that instant, I deployed Weaving.
My Weaving had leveled up, expanding its target range to ‘Skills’ themselves.
But the problem was that ‘Skills’ couldn’t be stored in the Arsenal.
Which meant the only way to Weave a ‘Skill’ was to copy it in real time the moment someone used it.
Just like now.
Weaving
Target: ‘Pascal Shilitz’
Skill: ‘Doksunsu’
And then I opened my mouth.
[You weren’t being controlled, were you?]
The moment I spoke, Pascal’s eyes wavered slightly.
[I wasn’t. I had to capture that squid bastard, so I pretended to be.]
[Didn’t you receive a business card? If I were Gregory, that’s what I would have done.]
Pascal knocked my blade aside and swung twice more, our edges meeting again. Every trajectory lay within the range I could counter.
[I did receive it.]
[Then how?]
If he’d received the business card, he should have fallen under the control. No matter how strong one’s willpower was, being entirely unaffected was impossible.
Pascal answered my confusion.
[I received it, but I forgot who gave it to me.]
[…….]
It was a remarkably brazen answer.
[It’s fortunate timing, Frontdier. Let’s not waste this moment.]
[What do you mean?]
Hearing my question, Pascal stepped backward. From that position, he had his back to Kraken. Which meant his mouth was hidden from Kraken’s view.
[Frontdier.]
Pascal opened his mouth, his eyes gleaming strangely.
[Let’s learn Aura. Right here and now.]
……At this very moment.
Pascal seemed crazier to me than Kraken.

* * *
Quinie sat inside the classroom with her head wrapped in her hands.
Quinie was one of those who had not received a business card.
Even though she was unrelated to Frontdier, she herself had become the subject of recent rumors, so the business card had not reached her.
But the contents were not something she could discuss with the same cheer as Frontdier’s situation.
[Quinie de Viet possesses an extreme phobia of corpses.]
That sentence written on the magical poster.
‘……I’m exposed.’
She feared corpses with an intensity that, as a Constellation Academy student, she should never possess. A weakness.
Of course, no one likes corpses, but Quinie’s terror was of an entirely different magnitude.
Many people had already seen that poster. Quinie’s head was already throbbing.
‘Whoever did this is quite the information broker.’
Quinie bit her lip.
Outside was in considerable chaos right now. It appeared some kind of incident had struck the students. Something about having to kill Frontdier, or so it went.
The numbers were enormous, but a few students who were stopping them were powerful enough to maintain some semblance of balance.
Yet Quinie could not easily come to Frontdier’s aid. She had more than enough desire to help him. Her wish to build a good relationship with him remained unchanged.
However, the moment Quinie saw the faces of the unconscious students, she froze solid.
Their faces looked exactly like corpses.
‘……How pathetic.’
They weren’t even real corpses, yet she couldn’t move just because their faces looked corpse-like. Quinie despised herself for it.
And yet, perhaps.
This might be an opportunity to heal her trauma.
These students weren’t real corpses. No—they were far from corpses to begin with. They were merely unconscious.
If she could face their expressions, then someday she might reach a point where the sight of an actual corpse wouldn’t shake her.
“……All right.”
Quinie got to her feet. Right now all the students’ attention was fixed on Frontdier. As long as she didn’t interfere, she too would be safe.
Quinie made her resolve and walked forward. She thrust open the classroom door with conviction.
“……Huh?”
And before her eyes stood another female student.
Anne, Quinie’s friend.
Anne was standing with a face like a corpse’s.

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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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