The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 195

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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 — Episode 195
Chapter 64: The Weakest Link (2)
—Make them feel the difference in power.
Jane stood before the second-year students of Class 1 and said this.
She’d mentioned being worried about letting students test one another, so the order must have come from Ellin, the student council president, or from Constellation itself.
Frontdier felt genuinely relieved that he’d been assigned to Stage 2. Being placed at Stage 2 meant Constellation still considered him capable only to that level—nothing more.
Days ago, the students of Class 1 had said they’d caught a glimpse of his true strength, but evidently they hadn’t seen everything.
Make them feel the difference in power.
Everyone understood what that phrase meant. Constellation Academy was a combat school where nobles and commoners from all corners of the realm gathered.
Many students were intimidated by its reputation, but since they’d never seen the wider world beyond their family’s teachings, countless numbers arrived already arrogant from their first day.
Arrogance itself wasn’t a problem. Whether it was truly arrogance or merely confidence born of genuine skill would only become clear through testing.
As time passed at Constellation, those arrogant students would naturally recalibrate their sense of self against their peers’ abilities.
But that recalibration took time. And during that time, there was danger of injury. That was what Constellation worried about.
‘In other words, they want the freshmen to learn their true place early on.’
Aten thought this while pausing in the Stage 3 Test Chamber.
Confidence required foundation. Through this test, the students would come to understand their position.
Even if they felt discouraged, passing the test would grant them real confidence; if they failed, they would learn the limits of their skill and shed their arrogance.
So don’t hold back. Only then will the freshmen know where they stand, and when they pass the test, they’ll possess true confidence worthy of the name.
But.
“That instruction probably shouldn’t have been given to Frontdier.”
Aten exhaled quietly.
Since there were so many first-year students, multiple Test Chambers had been set up. Of course, far fewer Stage 3 chambers existed than Stage 2. Stage 4 had even fewer, and the final Stage 5 had only two chambers—where Elody and Aster waited respectively.
Students who passed Stage 2 waited again in the Waiting Room, and once enough had gathered, they entered one of the vacant Stage 3 chambers.
The test supervisors in Stage 3 could see which Stage 2 test each freshman had passed.
Since supervisors had to be prepared when students advanced to the next stage, they could monitor the previous stage’s Waiting Room via bird’s-eye view.
The Waiting Room had a circular layout where multiple exits converged, all collecting students who’d passed the preceding stage into one space. This way, supervisors in the next stage could see which exit each freshman emerged from.
And if you knew which supervisor worked which exit, you naturally knew who had passed which freshman’s test.
Frontdier’s Test Chamber was, from Aten’s bird’s-eye vantage, the leftmost exit.
……No one had emerged from there yet.
A few minutes earlier.
The management team quickly noticed that Frontdier wasn’t sending any freshmen forward. During a break, a voice crackled through the speakers installed so all supervisors could hear.
[Frontdier, it’s the student council.]
Ellin, the student council president, addressed Frontdier directly.
Frontdier’s gentle response came back.
[It’s been a while, Ellin.]
[Let’s change the rules. Instead of obtaining the key to open the next door, students pass by simply touching the key with their hand.]
Frontdier’s original test required students to obtain the key, evade his interference, and open the next door.
In fact, most tests besides Frontdier’s followed a similar structure. There was a reason keys were set as the objective among all the possible challenges.
Aten sensed something troubling the moment she heard that exchange.
Minutes later, her premonition proved accurate.
[Frontdier, let’s change the rules.]
[Again?]
[Students pass if they drop the key, whether by hand, arrow, or anything else.]
[That won’t be easy.]
A few minutes passed.
[Frontdier, let’s change it so they pass just by touching the key.]
[I’m concerned the students will object. It might wound their pride.]
Again, minutes went by.
[……Frontdier.]
[What is it this time?]
[I’ll send you a chair. Just don’t get up from it.]
[Wait—is this actually a test of me, not the freshmen?]
Hearing that exchange, Aten’s sigh came naturally.
Probably most of the other supervisors listening had a similar reaction. Of course, anyone unfamiliar with Frontdier wouldn’t even understand what that conversation was about.
Still, one thing nagged at Aten: Frontdier’s final remark about preparing the chair himself. How exactly did he plan to do that?
‘I should have caught on when I saw Rohwald’s subtle expression—when he’d said “Hey, Frontdier! Don’t go easy on these freshmen! If you do, I won’t forgive you!”‘
Even Aten didn’t know everything about Frontdier.
But she had personally witnessed Frontdier sever Renzo’s arm.
Whether coincidence or something else, Frontdier possessed the ability to do such a thing.
Assigning Stage 2 to someone like Frontdier—wasn’t that a tremendous mistake on Constellation’s part?
‘At least the next student is supposedly that Pielot.’
Pielot was a figure who had become a topic of conversation not only among freshmen but also among teachers and upperclassmen.
A talent second only to Aster—perhaps even surpassing him. Since Stage One and Stage Two were adjacent unlike the other stages, it was inevitable that Pielot would encounter Frontdier when he entered the Stage One test.
By the schedule, Frontdier would be taking his test very soon.
‘……Will he pass this time?’
Aten watched the wizard view with both worry and anticipation.

* * *
Pielot flew through the air.
His body, executing a brilliant spin in empty space, hung suspended in the sky with a startling hang time, then—
Thud!
“Cough!”
—slammed into the floor.
The spinning in mid-air had not been of his own volition; he had simply been struck by Frontdier and sent flying.
“I did tell you that knocking me down was a sure solution.”
Frontdier sat in his chair without so much as a single hair out of place as he spoke.
“But I never said to rush me alone.”
“Ugh……!”
Pielot gritted his teeth and rose again. For someone who had just crashed spectacularly into the ground, his face was remarkably unscathed.
That was what infuriated Pielot—it was proof that Frontdier was being careful not to injure him, treating this like playing with a child. It was similar to what Artzie had been doing with Aster.
“Hey, stop now. If we all attack together—”
Whoosh!
Pielot ignored Dier’s words and charged at Frontdier once more. The way his entire body was wreathed in Aura was certainly an astonishing growth rate for a first-year student.
‘Even Aster took half a year after entering Constellation Academy to awaken his Aura, so people’s expectations of Pielot are understandable.’
Pielot’s blade flew toward Frontdier at a chilling speed. The killing intent was already abundantly clear—test or not. But Frontdier rather welcomed it.
‘A good thing. They say to train as if it were real combat. What a convincing argument.’
Though few would say such things after seeing Pielot’s current state.
Crack! Thwack!
“Gaah!”
Frontdier struck Pielot’s ribs and the back of his neck with his Heukcheon. The speed was not particularly remarkable, nor did the trajectory describe any difficult pattern. Pielot’s openings had simply become far too wide in his emotional turmoil.
But this time, Pielot did not fall. Clenching his teeth, he pressed forward. His blade finally entered a distance where it could reach Frontdier.
Light flashed in Pielot’s eyes. He was a pure swordsman. For a proper fight to occur, close-quarters combat had to be achieved first.
Without reaching that, nothing had meaning. So this moment was Pielot’s greatest opportunity to demonstrate his power. Moreover, Frontdier was sitting in a chair, restricted from rising.
‘Hmm.’
Seeing this, Frontdier grasped a sword in his right hand with his Heukcheon—a replica fashioned from something he’d taken from the Workshop.
Clang!
Two blades met.
‘Using the Disarming Strike could work, but.’
Let me test a few things instead.
The thought crossed Frontdier’s mind in an instant, and the two blades clashed repeatedly, sending sparks flying.
“Ugh……!”
Pielot’s lips were bleeding. He was losing in close-quarters combat against an opponent who sat in a chair.
Above all, the fact that he couldn’t overpower his opponent with raw strength made no sense. The enemy wasn’t even using Aura, and sitting down no less, so how could he be generating such force?
But from Frontdier’s perspective, this duel was transparent as glass.
‘Ordinary swordwork.’
From the vantage point of Frontdier, who was beaten by Artzie daily, Pielot’s swordsmanship was not poor—just adequate. What was remarkable was that he could emit such powerful Aura with this level of technique.
Frontdier had trained his Prediction so intensely under Artzie that it had become second nature; Pielot’s attack origins appeared to him with perfect clarity. Add to that his Sixth Sense, which let him perceive the flow of Mana itself, and reading became even simpler.
Before Pielot’s attack even began, Frontdier’s blade was already thrust toward its starting point.
Pielot was blocked before he could fully exert his strength. Frontdier was not matching Pielot’s power; he was simply preventing Pielot from ever fully unleashing it.
‘If he just cleared his head for a moment, he’d notice immediately.’
On the surface, he seemed the embodiment of composure, detachment, and logic—but the moment something went unexpectedly, he visibly wavered. There was no real comparison to Aster, despite what the rumors said.
“That’s enough for now.”
Press—
“……Hah!”
Pielot was swinging wildly when he suddenly felt a blade pressing against his chest.
Just as he was about to strike with full force, Frontdier’s blade had quietly positioned itself at his throat.
“Step back and cool your head.”
“……No, not yet……!”
“Last chance.”
At Frontdier’s words, Pielot’s mouth closed. Deep within Frontdier’s languid eyes lingered a warning color.
“You’ve challenged me six times now, and you’ve died in every single one. If you were anyone else, you’d have been disqualified already. Do you know why I’ve given you this many chances?”
“…….”
Pielot closed his mouth at Frontdier’s words and fell silent for a moment, thinking.
Well, obviously, because I’m the most promising among the freshmen—
“Because your judgment is absolutely abysmal.”
“Ugh……!”
“Five of you came in together from the Waiting Room, so you understand by now—you’re a team the moment you stepped through that door. If one of you is disqualified, the other four go down with you.”
At that, Pielot’s eyes widened and he spun around.
Of the four watching his fight, three of them—all except Dier—were staring at him with sunken eyes. Dier alone wore his usual expression, merely shrugging his shoulders.
“It would be rather pitiful if the other four were disqualified and accomplished nothing because of your foolish, arrogant choice. That’s your reason, you dull creature. You presumptuous fool who thinks only he stands above the rest.”
As he spoke, Frontdier pushed his blade forward. The slow, steady advance of the sword didn’t pierce or cut Pielot, but it forced him to stumble backward.
“I said this was your last chance. Put your heads together with the others and think carefully.”
Pielot bit his lower lip, then seemed to snap back to himself. He shook his head and his expression grew calmer. He turned and trudged toward the group of four.
“…….”
“…….”
A brief silence fell. The others didn’t know what to say to Pielot. Pielot, for his part, had no intention of saying anything to them.
He knew he should apologize, but pride kept the words from coming.
“Hey, Pielot.”
It was Dier who broke the silence.
When Pielot looked at him, Dier spoke with a refreshing smile.
“You got wiped out pretty thoroughly!”
“……you bastard…….”
“Man, second-years really are something. I’d have been rolling on the ground in three seconds.”
Despite his words, Dier’s eyes gleamed brightly. Pielot couldn’t make sense of it. What was this guy about? Did eyes that bright really belong to someone claiming he was weak?
“Still,”
Dier spoke, his eyes sharp and vivid.
“Coming to Constellation was the right call!”
“……!”
At those words, the expressions of Pielot and the others changed. Everyone’s eyes widened for a moment, then their faces relaxed considerably.
The man who had first explained the Waiting Room to Dier asked a question.
“You’ve got some kind of plan?”
“More or less.”
Dier answered immediately. At that, Pielot’s brow furrowed as he spoke.
“You’re saying there’s a way to beat ‘Sloth’s Frontdier’?”
“No, we can’t beat Sloth.”
Another instant reply. From somewhere nearby came a weary voice saying, “Don’t call me that.”
“But the point of this test isn’t to beat the senior student, is it? You all must realize it now—why the test seemed so easy when we only heard the explanation.”
As Dier spoke, he pointed to the Key with his finger. Touch that key by any means and you pass. Just hearing the description made you wonder why this was even called a test—it seemed laughably simple.
“If all five of us combined our full strength to go for that key, we might barely have a shot.”
“…….”
“The reason the condition itself is so simple is because of him. He alone can raise the difficulty as much as he wants.”
Everyone nodded with determined expressions.
They had all watched Pielot fight. That strange black liquid—an unknown substance whose volume and quantity defied estimation, launched attacks whose form and trajectory couldn’t be read.
The restriction that Frontdier had to remain seated in a chair hardly felt like a restriction anymore.
“……that’s not all.”
Pielot narrowed his eyes as he spoke.
“There are attacks you can’t see. You probably wouldn’t have noticed from back here.”
“……you’re lying. Attacks you can’t see?”
“I wasn’t sure at first, but after fighting him several times, I’m certain. Besides the assault from that black liquid, there are invisible attacks coming in the gaps. The damage itself isn’t much, but they knock you off-balance at critical moments.”
At that, everyone looked at each other. Could they possibly handle both—the black liquid and the transparent attacks?
“It’s fine. I already knew.”
“What?”
That was when Dier spoke up. He showed no surprise. Watching Pielot fight, he had missed nothing.
Pielot asked, skeptical.
“You knew? Really?”
“The strategy I’m about to lay out takes that into account. Everyone, listen up.”
Dier gestured for them to gather close. Following Frontdier’s words, the five of them huddled together and began to plan.
Once they’d heard the full strategy, everyone nodded. Pielot didn’t love it, but he found Dier’s plan sound.
In the meantime, a female student from the magic division suddenly let out a sigh, as if something had just occurred to her.
“……now that I think about it, this was Stage Two, wasn’t it.”
“……That’s how it was.”
It was a truth he’d never wanted to know, and now that he’d heard it, darkness seemed to swallow his vision.
“If Stage Two is this strong, how much more powerful must Stage Three, Four, and Five be? What about the upperclassmen waiting there?”
They held a deep reverence not only for Frontdier, but for the senior students who awaited them in the stages beyond.
Because among them all, they believed Frontdier was the weakest.

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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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