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HELHEIM SCANS
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Chapter 18: The Madman Who Defeats a Genius
“Aahhhh!”
Crash!
The last girl among the four who had been insulting me fell to the ground.
She couldn’t penetrate my steel-like skin and shield tactics despite her relentless attacks.
She rolled on the floor and fainted.
A series of unstoppable victories.
The four who had succumbed to me ground their teeth in frustration, biting into their handkerchiefs.
But when their eyes met mine, they flinched in terror and quickly looked away.
Beads of cold sweat formed on their foreheads.
They had all been thoroughly humbled by me.
They wouldn’t dare openly badmouth me in the future.
‘Not a bad feeling.’
It felt refreshing.
Was this what they called justice served?
Before I realized it, my rank had climbed to 15th.
Most were still waiting for the results of their mock battles, but mine wasn’t over yet.
‘Four more.’
If I defeat four more, I’ll solidify my position in the top ranks.
‘Ssshh… Even I’m starting to feel the strain now.’
I’d improved my stamina through training, but jumping from 46th place to 15th in one go was taking its toll on me.
And as I reached the mid-tier ranks, the gap in skill levels became noticeably wider.
It was no wonder that the elite Zerion Academy earned its prestigious reputation.
Pushing forward with just my steel skin was starting to show its limits.
Thank goodness this was only a mock battle.
If it had been a life-or-death situation, I wouldn’t have been able to defeat even the mid-tier students so easily.
In real combat, they would use any means necessary to kill their opponent.
The battles would be far tougher than this.
‘Not that my steel skin would stand a chance against the top ranks anyway.’
I’d prepared a few strategies, but even I wasn’t sure how far they’d take me.
“What’s his rank now?”
“15th.”
“Isn’t he going to make it into the top tier at this rate?”
Whispers rose among the students.
In the history of the mock battles, there had rarely been a student who caused such drastic rank shifts.
Most would climb or fall just three ranks at most.
“Come to think of it, doesn’t this situation remind you of before?”
“Yeah, it’s just like Lucas—”
The students abruptly stopped speaking.
They realized they had misspoken and nervously glanced at someone.
That someone was Isabel.
She had been silently watching my battles the entire time.
Isabel’s current rank was 5th.
Considering she had started at 10th, she had climbed five ranks—a significant rise.
This showed how much Isabel’s skills had sharpened recently.
But Isabel wasn’t focused on her own rank.
She had her sights set on someone else.
Me.
There had only ever been one other person who caused such dramatic shifts in rank during a mock battle.
That was Lucas, who had awakened his unique trait,
The Flame of Resolve, while lingering in the lower ranks.
When Lucas awakened his flame, it synergized with the constant training he had been doing, resulting in explosive growth.
In a flash, he climbed from the lower ranks to the top.
It was a moment that showcased Lucas’s protagonist-like nature.
And now, here I was.
I had insulted Lucas, who was now dead, yet I was climbing from the lower ranks just as he had.
The students couldn’t help but think of Lucas again, their gazes naturally shifting to Isabel.
Isabel clenched her jaw and stayed silent.
Among everyone here, she was undoubtedly the one thinking of Lucas the most.
But she didn’t say a word.
She simply stared at me, contemplating how to face me.
‘Yes, think long and hard about it.’
Not that it would matter much in the end.
“Rank 14: Ban. Rank 15: Hannon Airei.”
At that moment, my name was called again.
‘Here we go.’
For the first time, the confidence on my face wavered.
In the distance, a lanky boy was strolling toward me with a slow, indifferent gait.
His expression was filled with boredom and disinterest.
He seemed to drift along with life, taking things as they came.
But I knew immediately—I was now facing my toughest opponent of the day.
The Lazy Genius.
Ban.
Despite being talented enough to rank in the top five, Ban was notorious for forfeiting matches out of sheer laziness.
The instructors didn’t bother reprimanding him.
They believed that a lack of motivation couldn’t be forced into someone.
His rank reflected his lack of ambition, so it seemed appropriate to them even if he was stuck in the mid-tier.
Ban scratched his back and glanced at me lazily.
When our eyes met, I stepped into the arena.
“Ban, if you’re going to forfeit again, just say so now,”
The instructor said, clearly used to Ban’s antics.
Ban glanced at the instructor and then slowly turned his gaze toward me.
He stopped scratching his back and let out a small sigh.
“Nope.”
Though the boredom in his eyes remained, there was now a faint spark of interest.
“I feel like cutting someone today.”
What a psycho.
Why were geniuses like him and Sharin so strange?
“Ban wants to fight for once?”
“Is the transfer student that strong?”
The other students began to murmur again.
Everyone in the second year knew Ban’s true strength.
And they also knew he had never gone all-out in any match.
But Ban wasn’t interested in fighting me because he thought I was strong.
He had only fought seriously once before in a mock battle.
‘It was when he crossed swords with Lucas.’
That time, after a grueling battle, Lucas had barely managed to defeat Ban.
It was a turning point for Ban, reigniting his interest in swordsmanship.
But after Lucas’s death, Ban had lost that spark again and reverted to being the Lazy Genius.
“He was a decent guy,”
Ban muttered as he let his sword’s sheath drop to the ground.
Murderous intent began to radiate from him in waves.
“And you, you talk too much.”
Ban had liked Lucas.
And I had insulted the very person who had rekindled Ban’s drive.
It wasn’t just Isabel who was angry at me for my words about Lucas.
The top fighters of the martial arts class—all of whom had respected Lucas—resented me deeply.
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That was why my confidence had faded.
Ban, the Lazy Genius ranked 14th, wouldn’t let me off easily.
But I had no intention of going down without a fight.
“I just said what needed to be said,”
I replied.
“Ah, I see.”
Ban nodded nonchalantly.
But his eyes locked onto mine with a sharp, unwavering intensity.
“Then I’ll need to cut you.”
“Match, begin!”
The instructor’s voice signaled the start, and he stepped back.
Ban disappeared from my sight.
Fast.
So fast that I couldn’t register his movement.
Slash!
A spray of blood burst from my chest.
I staggered back, staring at the first wound ever inflicted on my steel-like skin.
Standing there was Ban, his sword gleaming with a faint blue aura.
Aura—an ability so rare that only a handful could master it even at the prestigious Zerion Academy, a place teeming with prodigies.
Aura Sword.
The pinnacle of swordsmanship, where one's own will is imbued into their weapon.
With it, even a dull sword could slice through boulders, or shear steel like paper.
Ban was one of the few swordsmen capable of wielding this technique.
No matter how tough my steel skin was,
I couldn’t block his aura head-on—not with my current level of strength.
This was exactly why I believed my steel skin alone wouldn’t be enough to stay in the top ranks.
Ban’s sword moved again.
Relying on my steel skin for a prolonged fight, as I had done in mid-tier battles, was now meaningless.
The shield strapped to my arm shifted quickly to intercept his strike.
But Ban regarded the shield with a dismissive look.
"Do you think that’s going to work?"
With his question, Ban’s sword met the shield.
Slash!
The shield was instantly cleaved in two, shattered beyond repair.
Before the might of his aura sword, even the shield was useless.
To block an aura sword, you needed another aura sword.
I was now painfully aware of just how powerful his strikes were.
The instructor didn’t intervene.
He knew Ban’s skills too well.
While the battle seemed dangerous, the instructor was confident Ban wouldn’t kill his opponent.
That’s how refined Ban’s mastery over his sword was.
Ban pressed forward, his sword cutting through the air like a fish gliding through water.
I barely managed to evade.
Today’s sparring match revealed one advantage of my current body—Vikamon’s.
Vikamon’s dynamic vision was sharper than I expected.
Had I been in my original body, I wouldn’t have even reacted to that attack.
But with Vikamon’s instincts guiding me, I dodged with the ingrained footwork I’d practiced.
The repeated evasions in earlier battles had been worth it.
My body had accumulated those experiences well.
But not everything could be solved by dodging.
My opponent was a master swordsman.
Slowly, Ban’s swordsmanship cornered me.
He anticipated my movements, his sword moving even faster to block my escape routes.
Before I knew it, my room to maneuver had diminished at an alarming rate.
Ban wielded numerous styles simultaneously.
His sword technique was clearly that of a dominating style, like "Force sword," taking over the battlefield.
But his speed also carried the principles of swift strikes, akin to "Lightning sword."
Swish!
The spaces where I could move grew narrower and narrower.
Every missed step left a mark on my body, the sword's aura cutting into my flesh and staining my clothes with blood.
My ground had been entirely seized by Ban.
His eyes gleamed, revealing the depth of understanding he had poured into his swordsmanship over the years.
Before I realized, I was cornered with no room to retreat.
My body was riddled with cuts, drenched in blood.
My breathing was labored.
Dodging on this razor-thin edge of survival had drained my stamina.
“Ban, take him down!”
“Teach him a lesson he won’t forget!”
The voices of my classmates rang out.
It seemed I had become their enemy after mercilessly defeating them earlier.
To be fair, I didn’t blame them.
Even I had to admit my methods were pretty nasty.
I relied on relentless evasion and steel skin to outlast them, breaking their spirits when they were completely exhausted.
For them, it probably felt anything but fair.
Some had even grumbled that, if not for the sparring rules, they wouldn’t have been dragged through such a grueling ordeal.
But this was a mock battle.
And I intended to exploit every aspect of it.
If being the villain helped motivate Isabel to defeat me, then so be it.
I welcomed the role of the villain.
Despite the crowd’s jeers, Ban’s focus remained unwavering.
A true prodigy, his concentration was terrifying.
With my space fully under Ban’s control, his sword moved to deliver the final blow.
Like a snake sinking its fangs into its prey, Ban’s sword lunged for me.
A point-blank strike, impossible to dodge.
I could see the sword coming, but there was no room to evade.
And so—
‘I’ve been waiting for this.’
The moment Ban’s aura sword reached me, piercing through my steel skin and plunging toward my chest—
Crack! Crunch!
For the first time, Ban’s eyes widened in surprise.
Steel skin—there’s a secret to it that others don’t know.
It doesn’t only coat my flesh.
I can extend its protection to anything I hold or wear.
Which brings us to the current situation.
The sword that should have cut through me—
It had stopped cold against my chest.
Ban’s sword was stuck, immobilized.
Why?
Because the sword had fused with my steel skin, locking it in place.
Of course, I was still in immense pain as my chest was split open.
But I’d already prepared myself for this.
Ban’s widened eyes asked the question he couldn’t voice:
‘Are you insane?’
I wasn’t just someone with tough skin.
My body was imbued with the mystery of the Steel Empress herself.
But there was no time for Ban to recover.
Even as his sword struck, my hands were already moving.
Both hands reached for the sword embedded in my chest.
Ban noticed too late.
Creak! Groan!
My steel-coated fingers bit into the surface of his sword, gripping it tightly.
Using the mystical properties of my steel skin, I interfered with the sword’s structure, disrupting its integrity.
“This’ll be a lesson for you,”
I said with a cruel smile.
Though my fingers were torn and bleeding, I didn’t care.
Beads of sweat glistened on my face, my crimson eyes glowing with a manic intensity.
Ban stared at me as though I were a madman.
Perhaps I was.
For someone who had always stood among mere mortals, I must have been his first encounter with a true maniac.
Ban, the lazy genius destined to become Lucas’s staunch ally and closest friend in the future—
I was the one standing before him now, searing into his mind as a lunatic.
“Don’t ever use a sword in front of me again.”
With that, I clenched my hands tightly and yanked.
Snap! Crash!
Ban’s sword shattered, fragments scattering in all directions.
Ban stared at the broken pieces, utterly stunned.
Sword Breaker.
Even Aisha would have been shocked by my move.
A trump card, meant to destroy the genius swordsman.
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