A Depressed Kendo Player Possesses a Bastard Aristocrat
chapter-126-2

***

A few hours later.

At the training grounds near the Academy's main building.

I was having a light spar with Golden Boy in this familiar place after almost three months.

You might be wondering why.

I had been cooped up in the mansion all break, and my body was stiff.

And since I had a personal punching bag right here... I figured I might as well get some exercise.

The sound of fists cutting through the chilly air filled the air.

-Whoosh!

A fist came flying towards me.

I dodged it effortlessly with a simple turn of my head.

"Tsk... You're annoyingly good at dodging!"

Golden Boy clicked his tongue in frustration.

Despite his string of failed attacks, he continued to press forward relentlessly.

I maintained a safe distance, calmly countering his moves.

Normally, I would have kept him at bay with long-range sword attacks.

But this spar was different.

We weren't using weapons.

It was a pure hand-to-hand combat spar.

Creating distance was not a good idea, especially when your opponent was a brute like Golden Boy.

"Come on, take a hit!!"

He lunged forward, his movements exaggerated.

At first glance, it seemed like he was losing his cool and attacking recklessly. But that was a trap.

If I mistook it for an opening and attacked, he would catch me off guard and throw me to the ground.

Despite his appearance, Golden Boy was quite clever.

Our spars were always a battle of wits.

This time, however, I saw through his plan.

"Haaah!"

I let out a loud yell, pretending to attack with my fist.

I saw the corner of his lips twitch as he assumed he had me right where he wanted me. But that was just another feint.

My real attack wasn't my fist.

It was the roundhouse kick I had been setting up this whole time.

-WHAM!

My kick landed squarely on his abdomen.

"Oof...!!"

Golden Boy let out a gasp and stumbled backward.

He staggered for a moment before collapsing to his knees.

"Ugh, I give... Urgh..."

He admitted defeat.

I took a moment to catch my breath.

As I wiped the sweat from my forehead, I heard his voice, weak and defeated.

"Ugh... You're a beast... Your physical abilities are something else..."

He looked utterly pathetic.

It was strange.

He seemed weaker than the last time we sparred...

Maybe something was wrong.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"How did you know?"

"I could tell. So, what's wrong?"

"Well~ If I told you your lifespan just got shortened by about 1,000 years, would you believe me?"

"Stop being ridiculous..."

He clearly didn't want to tell me.

And I couldn't force him to.

I sat down next to him.

He was lying sprawled on the ground when he suddenly asked,

"By the way... Did you get hurt during that incident?"

"That incident?"

He was talking about the Academy invasion that had occurred right before the break.

I gave him an incredulous look.

"You're asking me that now...? After three months?"

"Well~ We haven't seen each other since then, have we?"

He scratched his head sheepishly.

"You didn't even ask if I was okay."

"I didn't need to."

"Why not?!"

"Because I know what you're capable of. I doubt you'd die in a little skirmish like that."

"Oh... Well, when you put it that way..."

"Don't get cocky."

He stared at me with what seemed like gratitude.

I shoved him lightly and stood up.

I had been at the training grounds for three hours. It was time to head back.

The others would be waiting for me at the dormitory.

And after I unpacked, I needed to check if Margaret had arrived safely.

"I'll be going then."

"See ya."

He waved me off.

I found his carefree demeanor irritating, but I didn't have time to argue.

As I turned to leave, he called out to me.

"Oh, right... Maniac!"

"What is it?"

"You're coming to the thing next week, right?"

"Thing?"

"Don't tell me you forgot."

Forgot what?

I had just arrived at the Academy. I hadn't received any announcements yet.

I stared at him blankly.

He sat up and spoke, his usual playfulness replaced with a somber expression.

"Next weekend... There's going to be a memorial service for the victims of the attack."

"Ah..."

Victims.

I hadn't allowed myself to think about that word.

My breath hitched in my throat.

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