Chapter-03 · EP-047

Episode 47: Mock Battle - Part 3

The first voice to break the silence in the training hall was Hikaru Kujo's.

"The match is decided."

Those words sealed the atmosphere.

The next moment, cheers from us first-years burst forth all at once.

At the same time, cries like screams from the First Swordsmanship Club members rang out.

Iori had won against the second-year club member.

It was a match that showcased Iori's overwhelming skill, defying the level difference.

"Takigawa-san!"

Murasakimura and Sendo rushed over with joyful smiles.

We shouted. Everyone stood up, looking as if they had witnessed something unbelievable.

Hikaru and Mei watched over them.

The First Swordsmanship Club side, in contrast, was in chaos.

The defeated Hachinohe stood frozen, unable to make excuses.

Hachinohe had thought he would "naturally win." That arrogance crumbled audibly.

All the watching club members were also unable to hide their shock.

"Impossible… Hachinohe-senpai lost to a girl like that…?"

"I-it was a fluke, right? …Right?"

Shaken voices murmured one after another. No one could accept reality.

I, too, was speechless with shock.

"She beat a level 4…?!"

I couldn't contain my emotion—a mix of awe and excitement. In this world, I had thought dungeon rules were supreme. That level and skills were the primary indicators of strength. But my classmate Iori had overturned that. Nothing could be more thrilling.

It meant that technique existed that could overcome level differences!

The training hall was buzzing. It was probably time to leave. If someone else stepped up to avenge Hachinohe, this would never end. This was enemy territory. Depending on the situation, we might even be attacked by a group to silence us. No matter how skilled Iori was, she wouldn't get off unscathed against this many opponents.

"Well, let's go…"

Just as I called out to everyone, a threatening voice echoed through the hall.

"What are you doing?!"

Everyone turned towards the voice.

A man in a martial arts uniform had entered the training hall.

He was tall and lean, with sharp eyes peeking through disheveled, long hair.

He didn't seem to be a teacher, but his aura was clearly different from the other members.

Soon, one of the members called the man's name.

"Iwakura, the club president…"

Murasakimura, who seemed to know the man, muttered his full name.

"First Swordsmanship Club President, Ryuichi Iwakura…"

Silence once again fell over the training hall.

Iwakura, accompanied by several members, slowly walked towards us.

I quietly sidled up to Murasakimura and whispered.

"Is he strong?"

Murasakimura looked at my face and nodded.

"He's called the strongest in this academy in terms of anti-personnel combat. Some say he's even stronger than the student council president, Kazuma Kujo."

"Stronger than the president?"

Kujo Kazuma, Hikaru Kujo's brother, was a formidable third-year who had reportedly reached level 15. Iori had just proven that level wasn't everything, but still, the possibility that someone was stronger than that spoke volumes about his technique.

Even I felt a twinge of fear from Murasakimura's brief words.

"I asked what's going on!"

Iwakura stopped near the group and raised his voice again.

Looking at Hachinohe and Iori, still in their protective gear, he deduced that a mock battle had taken place.

"Hachinohe, what happened?"

His voice somewhat calmer than before, he addressed Heiji Hachinohe, the one involved.

Hachinohe, his voice trembling, began explaining the sequence of events.

"We were guiding prospective new members on a tour…"

"Then why are you dressed like that? Showing them practice should have been enough."

"Y-yes. Well, a first-year named Kujo-san said that if I won a match against this student here, she would join the club…"

Iwakura shifted his gaze to Hikaru.

Hikaru stood with her arms crossed, a composed smile on her face.

"The student council president's sister, huh. And? Why was there such a commotion here a moment ago?"

Unable to admit he had lost to a first-year, sweat poured like a waterfall from Hachinohe's forehead.

But his silence served as an answer, and Iwakura roughly understood the situation.

"You, what is your name?"

"Iori Takigawa, Class 1-D."

Iwakura observed Iori. Then he muttered to Hachinohe.

"Hachinohe, you lost to a first-year, and a D-Class girl at that?"

Hachinohe's face turned pale instantly.

Someone stop him; this was harassment.

"Well, fine. First-year. I will judge your skill myself. Come at me."

Iwakura suddenly declared war on Iori.