The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 165

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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 Weapon Replicator of the Academy — Episode 165
Chapter 54: Petty Tricks (2)
Frontdier had resolved to shrink from no errand, no matter how menial or unpleasant. He was prepared to grovel like a dog.
He harbored no illusions of receiving formal instruction from the knights or sparring as an equal. His plan was to shadow their drills, steal their techniques with his eyes, and when necessary, use the skill Analysis to make their methods his own.
But then.
“Huff, huh-uh……! Huh-uh!”
Right now, Frontdier was quite literally crawling like a dog.
In the center of the knights’ training grounds.
“Center of gravity. Don’t thrust your body forward. Your moves become readable to your opponent.”
The knight facing Frontdier spoke with stern authority. Frontdier hauled his trembling frame upright and barely managed to assume his stance.
Frontdier was in the midst of a sparring match—surrounded in the center by a ring of Roach Knights.
The knights watched his sparring with blank expressions. There was no admiration in their regard, nor contempt either. Blankness, precisely and entirely.
‘How did I end up like this?’
Frontdier’s mind drifted back to the events of just moments before.
It had started as something like a skills assessment. Since Angen had introduced him to the commander, they’d wanted to gauge his basic competence before assigning him any chores—a mere formality. At least, that had been the original intent, or so he’d thought.
But after Frontdier had faced off against one knight, randomly selected, for several exchanges,
suddenly the unit commander, Silbain, had opened his mouth.
“Lord Frontdier, might I trouble you to let me teach your second son for a moment?”
And now Frontdier was being soundly beaten, in turn, by various weapon-wielders.
“Don’t carelessly hoist your blade upward. The instant you do, your offensive options narrow. Attack, defense, evasion—these three must always begin and end as one, completed swiftly. Everything else: maintain the same stance.”
“When facing a spear with a sword, don’t mindlessly bat it away. The spear’s recovery speed will always exceed your pressing-in speed. Rather, try to stay attached to the spear. It’s safer that way.”
The knights, having taken turns pummeling Frontdier thoroughly, each appended a piece of courteous advice.
The watching knights whispered among themselves.
“How long has it been?”
“Two hours. Fifth opponent.”
“He’s lasted longer than expected.”
All weapons were wooden; they used no Aura in the matches.
Yet Frontdier’s body was already covered in small wounds.
To the untrained eye, it would have looked pathetic, but to the knights’ eyes, it was rather extraordinary.
“Not bad at all.”
“Really. Too good to waste on menial work.”
“The fact his mind doesn’t freeze is impressive in itself. Nowadays you see too many brats who trust only their own talent and flail about wildly.”
One of the conversing knights suddenly remembered something and spoke.
“Come to think of it, if he’s the lord’s second son, that makes him Artzie’s brother, doesn’t it?”
“Then did Artzie teach him? That would explain those movements.”
“I doubt it. What’s the chance Artzie bothers teaching anyone?”
“I heard she even served as a temporary instructor at Constellation Academy.”
While Frontdier was busy fending off relentless attacks, the watching knights were remarkably at ease.
‘At least this beats sparring with Artzie.’
The reason Frontdier could still endure despite taking such a beating
was that his previous matches with Artzie had been far more brutal.
Here, his opponents and weapons changed continuously, which created some disorientation, but Artzie could confound him just fine without ever switching arms.
Facing multiple strong fighters like these, he now truly grasped Artzie’s strength. She posed the most difficult questions—the kind opponents struggle most to answer.
While Frontdier couldn’t always formulate perfectly correct answers to her questions, he’d trained himself never to be completely wrong. That preparation bore fruit here.
‘This is time worth its weight in gold. I have to absorb it all.’
And ideally, rather than merely answering the questions posed, he should learn to pose his own.
Thinking of what Artzie had done, Frontdier extended his wooden sword. In the gaps between his desperate responses, he found his opening—and turned one of Artzie’s problems back on the knights themselves.
‘Hmm.’
The knights handled these questions without difficulty, yet both his immediate sparring partner and the onlookers shifted their expressions. It was the sort of move that would have worked if Frontdier had merely possessed sufficient strength, speed, and technical refinement.
Even as his breathing grew ragged, his eyes remained clear. His frame trembled, yet his posture held firm. That sight kindled something in the knights’ gaze.
But then.
“That’s enough. We’ll stop here for today.”
At Commander Silbain’s declaration, the match ended. The sparring knight withdrew, and Frontdier lowered his sword.
In that instant, a sudden, intense vertigo and chill seized his body.
“Overpace.”
“Yes.”
Only after hearing it did he understand. Moments before, he’d felt he could continue longer, but the moment he heard the word “stop,” his body began urgently demanding rest.
“You’re good at hiding your expression. But it’s troublesome if you deceive even yourself.”
In fact, only Silbain had noticed Frontdier’s Overpace—and even he’d caught it somewhat late. This was a phenomenon similar to what had happened on the Constellation Academy field trip.
“Yes, I’ll be more careful.”
“Rest for today. Come back here at the same time tomorrow.”
At Silbain’s words, Frontdier’s expression shifted subtly.
“Will I… will I be trained again next time?”
“Why? Do you dislike it? Would you rather do chores?”
“No, it’s not that. I just thought I’d end up doing chores since I’m not even participating in the Barrier battles.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not doing this just for you.”
With that, Silbain glanced across at the knights arrayed around them.
“My men need the stimulus too.”

* * *
Stimulus is what they need.
I didn’t fully grasp what Silbain meant by those words, but mutual benefit worked in my favor.
The Roach Knights were certainly of high caliber. They seemed leagues above the knights I’d met in Taeibun.
The Taeibun knights had been conscripted from various orders to defend the Barrier, so while their cohesion was weaker, their individual prowess was exceptional—yet the Roach Knights exceeded even that. Each member seemed to transcend what I’d seen before.
‘If I can train here, I might overcome my weakness in close combat to some degree.’
Though a month was short, for someone who’d been content with menial work, it was invaluable time.
Of course, that wasn’t my real goal.
‘Now I need to plan how to cross the Barrier without Angen finding out.’
As I returned from my bath, I took in the sight of the Barrier looming in the distance.
Even from this considerable distance, the Barrier’s height was imposing. Unlike Taeibun, this one bore signs of reinforcement and expansion.
Since they’d been protected completely from monsters, they’d had the luxury of making the Barrier itself robust.
And that very robustness had become a formidable obstacle for me to cross undetected.
‘If worse comes to worst, I could use Menosorpho to fly over—but they’d definitely spot me.’
The ideal scenario was for Angen to remain unaware, even after I returned. But now that I faced the Barrier itself, it seemed far from simple.
Step… step…
I decided to head back to my quarters first. Angen had arranged lodging for me. I’d half-expected him to joke about throwing me in a stable to sleep, but thankfully it wasn’t that bad.
The unexpected succession of training sessions had left my body thoroughly exhausted. I needed to get inside and rest. Night was already well advanced.
“…”
As I walked toward my quarters, I eventually came to a halt.
‘Was my quarters this far away?’
It shouldn’t have taken this long a walk to reach it.
‘Where… am I?’
As clarity returned, I realized I stood deep within a forest.
The knights’ barracks and my quarters were mere steps apart. After bathing and leaving the barracks, my lodging should have been in plain view.
To reach my quarters, I should have naturally been walking toward them, keeping them in sight.
Yet my feet had moved of their own accord, propelled only by the thought of returning home.
“Damn.”
I drew my Short Sword from my belt.
I didn’t know what trap I’d fallen into—whether it was mental magic, a curse, or something else.
But one simpler fact remained clear.
“There’s an enemy here.”
No one with a decent conscience would pull something like this.
The moment I raised my weapon and scanned the surroundings, I heard a grotesque cry mixed with the sound of footsteps.
Grrrowwwl—
A squat figure emerged from between the trees, radiating murderous intent. Starting with the vanguard, creatures like it revealed themselves from all directions, their shadows falling beneath their feet.
The faces that caught the moonlight were ones I’d never seen in this world before, and yet they were remarkably familiar.
‘Goblins.’
Now that I thought about it, I’d encountered all manner of creatures since arriving, but goblins were a first.
Normally, I’d have grown sick of seeing them during the Main Quest “Assault” at the Constellation Academy, but I’d been heading toward the tower where Elicia was then.
‘So goblins used magic to lure me into an empty forest and form an encirclement to strike.’
That didn’t make sense.
Among goblins, the occasionally intelligent ones might lead a pack, but none had ever reached the level of casting mental magic on humans.
“Who ordered you here?” I called out to no one in particular.
Looking at their clothing and weapons, I couldn’t determine who their leader was. They all looked identical.
“And…”
My eyes narrowed. The armor and weapons of the goblins reflected in the moonlight, and as my gaze fixed on them, a chill settled over my heart.
“Where did that come from?”
The goblins were covered in Heukcheon.
The Heukcheon hadn’t formed into complete weapons or armor. It clung to the goblins’ shabby equipment and bodies in patches, as if haphazardly draped over them. It adhered to their forms like leeches, making them look as though they’d been tainted by something dark and murky. From this vantage point, it was almost as if the goblins had been corrupted in black water.
…Or perhaps that wasn’t merely a metaphor.
Keck-keck, key, key-kick-kick-kick—
The goblins uttered a sound that was neither scream nor laughter, advancing toward me in a slow, methodical crawl. The darkness of night made their eyes hard to discern, but something about them felt… off. As if they moved not of their own will.
Whack!
The nearest one came charging, club raised, so I
—swish—
cut its throat clean through.
‘I need to avoid anywhere the Heukcheon is smeared.’
I know the hardness and durability of Heukcheon well. When I modeled a weapon after a god’s, when I struck it with tremendous force—the Heukcheon itself was never destroyed. In a sense, it couldn’t be; the substance itself had no meaningful concept of ruin.
‘Heukcheon is merely liquid if left alone. The fact that it remains smeared on bodies and equipment like this means someone is channeling their Mana to maintain it.’
Whoever was using it seemed to have found their own way of wielding Heukcheon.
Clang! Crash! Crunch!
I dodged and parried the blade strikes coming from all directions, each time swinging my own sword with precision. Of course, I couldn’t avoid or block every one.
The goblins’ weapons themselves were mostly crude, the kind you could withstand—though those smeared with Heukcheon demanded caution.
‘I shouldn’t use Weaving just yet.’
Someone had lured me to an empty place and arranged for the goblins to attack. It was clear: among all those people, they’d singled me out.
I didn’t know how much they understood about me, or what grudge drove them to this.
They were deliberately showing me Heukcheon, testing my abilities through these crude goblins. In other words, they thought me beneath notice. I had no intention of playing along.
‘They believe they’re observing me one-sidedly.’
Perhaps I’d run a few tests of my own.
I sidestepped the goblin’s reckless swing and grabbed the back of its neck. Spinning behind it, I drove my blade into its ribs. It wouldn’t die instantly, but its combat ability would vanish in a heartbeat. Normally, anyway.
Screech! Screeeech!!
Yet the goblin thrashed its limbs in a frenzy even as it shrieked, its cry less a wail than a roar of fury desperate to kill me.
Blood poured with each violent movement, and the pain should have been considerable—but it showed not the slightest hesitation.
Thud! Thud!
This time I drove the blade into its eyes, both of them in sequence. All the while, I observed the other goblins.
Normally, witnessing such brutal slaughter before one’s eyes would terrify most creatures. Goblins are no exception.
Yet these seemed utterly indifferent to the death of their own kind happening right before them. They still bore murderous intent toward me, swinging their weapons with all their remaining strength.
‘Certain. They’re completely enthralled.’
I didn’t know the enemy’s true nature, but they were clearly adept at interfering with others’ minds.
I severed the neck of the goblin I was holding and kicked the corpse aside. While the body obstructed the path of the others, I advanced toward the next goblin.
The culprit was watching from somewhere, no doubt observing my every move.
But I still had much to test here.
And most of all—they should never have drawn me into the forest.
Caw—
For me, the forest was a place where there were more eyes and ears than anywhere else.

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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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