The Academy’s Weapon Replicator
chapter-210-1

Backlash (8)

As one of them fell, his torso severed from his lower body, the surrounding Pros widened their eyes in shock.

‘He pierced through the aura...!’

It wasn't as if they were unprepared. In fact, mobilizing this many Pros against a single student was overkill.

Considering the possibility that Frondier had deliberately lured them into the building, they had been prepared to react at any moment. The aura was just one of their defenses.

They saw what had sliced through their comrade's body. A black blade that suddenly materialized from thin air. Despite the surprise attack, they reacted, attempting to block it with their auras.

Yet, the body fortified by the aura was severed in an instant.

‘That blade, something's strange about it!’

The Pros quickly made a judgment and formed a defensive circle, covering each other's backs while maintaining a wide field of vision. Of course, they didn't neglect tracking Frondier's location.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

This time, black liquid spewed from Frondier's surroundings, flying towards them. What was clearly liquid suddenly transformed into sharp thorns, raining down upon them.

“Ugh!”

The Pros used their respective defensive techniques to block the thorns. As they did so, they became certain.

Those black droplets were different from ordinary weapons. While not entirely impervious to auras, they clearly pierced through them much more easily than other weapons.

“You arrogant brat!”

One of the Pros, unable to contain his anger, charged forward as Frondier's attack ceased.

“How dare a mere student!”

The man swung his prized bastard sword vertically towards Frondier.

Clang!

The sword was blocked by a blade conjured by Frondier.

The man initially thought it was another blade formed from the black droplets, but upon closer inspection, it was a real sword.

“You have a lot of tricks! Do you think you can defeat a Pro just by using slightly different weapons!”

“You have a poor eye for detail.”

Eye for detail?

The Pro, pushing against Frondier's sword, furrowed his brow. He felt a strong sense of unease from Frondier's choice of words.

“...What is this sword?”

And then he realized.

What kind of sword Frondier was currently wielding.

‘This, this is my sword...!’

Frondier was holding a blade identical to the one the man held.

“Menosorpo.”

Before his thoughts could progress further, Frondier's utterance transformed the surrounding area.

Everyone present felt Frondier's immense mana and the magical circle filling the space around them.

‘When did he even set up the rune!’

They were all trapped within his rune. The implication was clear.

This place was already Frondier's domain.

“Different weapons, you say...?”

Frondier muttered with a sneer.

Immediately after,

Menosorpo

Void weaving, simultaneous replication

3 units of the same weapon

Rank - Rare

Bastard Sword

Three swords materialized around Frondier, each identical to the one held by the man.

“It's not the weapon that's different, you fool.”

Swish! Swish! Swish!

“This, this is impossible...!”

The man barely managed to deflect the swords while letting out a cry. As expected of a Pro, he skillfully blocked the three swords.

However.

“Not bad.”

Following Frondier's comment, two more swords flew towards him. A total of five.

“Huff, huff...!”

He somehow managed to block those as well, but then came seven, then ten.

No matter how skilled his swordsmanship was, he clearly lacked the hands to deal with them all.

“Ugh! Argh! Gah!”

The flurry of blades attacked the man in unpredictable trajectories. Even if he managed to deflect one, it would immediately return to strike him again. The sword wind generated by his aura wasn't very effective either.

For every five he deflected, five more sliced into his body. His arms, shoulders, sides, calves – wounds accumulated all over his body as time passed.

“Attack together!”

The watching Pros, realizing the dire situation, charged towards Frondier simultaneously.

Frondier glanced at them once.

‘They'll be good test subjects.’

He manipulated his armband. A much larger amount of Obsidian than before swirled into the air.

Weaving, Obsidian

Rank - Undetermined

Azier MK. 3

The abundant Obsidian converged, forming the shape of armor and appearing around Frondier.

These were fully autonomous golems, the third iteration refined by Binkis. Frondier's weaving, which replicated all structures perfectly, had replicated even their modules.

“What, what is this!”

“Golems? No, these intricate mechanisms, is it mechanical engineering!”

While they were taken aback and retreated, Frondier equipped each golem with a weapon. As the man had experienced earlier, the weapons were identical to those wielded by the opposing Pros.

“Fight them as you see fit. As a hint, they're modeled after my brother.”

“...You ignorant fool, you think you can imitate Azier's skills?”

Well, I didn't make them myself, but...

Frondier swallowed those words, keeping them to himself.

Azier's primary weapon was, of course, the spear, but he was originally proficient in all sorts of weaponry. These golems, refined twice by Binkis from the prototype, must have also acquired a considerable level of skill.

Just how high is their proficiency?

There were no better guinea pigs than these individuals to test that.

“Now then.”

Frondier shifted his gaze to the man he had been dealing with earlier, his body covered in cuts and bleeding profusely.

“...W-wait.”

The man instinctively stepped back.

Seeing this, the other Pros rushed towards Frondier.

“How dare you! As if these things could stop us,”

Clang!

His words were cut short. The man, who had ignored the golem and charged towards Frondier, was forced to raise his sword in response to the golem's swift strike.

The sensation of clashing against a weapon identical to his own was both unpleasant and eerie.

“Ugh, these, these things...!”

The golems faced off against the Pros Frondier had assigned them to, resulting in identical weapons clashing against each other.

However, the golems' movements were based on Azier's, so naturally, their combat styles differed.

Could these individuals surpass the imitation of Azier created by Binkis?

It was an intriguing question, but Frondier decided to finish what he had started first.

“Let's continue our fight then, now that the distractions are gone.”

Frondier took a step towards the man, whose body was riddled with bleeding wounds.

“W-wait! Hold on, I was just...”

Stab!

“Gaaaaah!”

The tip of the blade pierced the man's shoulder. He had attempted to defend with his sword, but it was simply a matter of numbers.

Moreover, the swords floating in the air would stop and resume their attacks at will, making it impossible to deal with the unpredictable chain of attacks.

“Ugh, argh, huff...!”

“There's no time to scream. Let's move on to the next.”