A Disaster-Level Assassin Has Been Freed

Chapter 139: Seton Swordsmanship Hall (1)

Samuel Seton, the master of Seton Swordsmanship Hall, held the skill of a peak Expert.

In other regions, this might be insufficient to run a hall, but in Ruibil, it was competitive enough, and business was decent.

Of course, it wasn’t without stress.

Teaching wealthy kids often meant their behavior was hard to control, and this time was no exception.

“What? Orphanage brats came? Why?”

“Uh, they say our hall’s kids insulted and humiliated them…”

“Ha! Now every riffraff comes knocking. Is the hall a joke? Kick them out!”

The Seton Hall Master shouted irritably.

He couldn’t understand why his students picked fights with orphans, but he sighed in relief that they’d clashed with powerless, unbacked kids.

‘If they’d fought another hall or a rich noble’s kid… ugh, I don’t even want to imagine.’

Shuddering at the thought, he felt grateful it wasn’t such a case. Orphanage kids could be chased off with a stick.

But the issue wasn’t as simple as he thought.

“Uh, well…”

“What?”

“It’s not just one or two kids. A dozen or so came together, holding signs, shouting loudly…”

“……”

“So, passersby are stopping to watch, and… public opinion isn’t in our favor. Since it’s about poor kids, our hall’s being painted as the villain. If we forcibly kick them out, it might worsen public sentiment…”

“Argh, damn it! Then what do we do!”

Hearing the instructor’s report, Samuel Seton exploded.

The best solution was to bring the offending kids to apologize to the orphanage kids.

But that was impossible. The troublemakers were from the wealthiest families, and he had to mind their parents’ reactions.

‘What do I do? Should I apologize instead?’

‘Ugh, no way. I may be fallen, but I’m still a noble!’

‘These beggar brats, usually quiet as the dead, why are they suddenly organized?’

‘Do they want something? Money, maybe?’

‘Ugh, that’s no good either.’

Various thoughts raced through his mind.

But none appealed to him.

Unable to act, he stood fuming when another instructor approached with unexpected news.

“Uh…”

“What now?”

“I’m here with a message from the orphanage.”

“What is it!”

“Well, uh…”

“Stop making me mad! Spit it out!”

“It’s…”

Despite the master’s urging, the instructor hesitated.

The orphanage’s demand was too absurd. No, it was beyond that—it provoked the hall’s pride.

But he couldn’t stay silent forever.

Steeling himself, the instructor closed his eyes and relayed the message, “They say… if we won’t apologize, accept a duel challenge.”

“…What? A duel? Who with whom?”

“A kid representing the orphanage against… the leader of the group that insulted them, Dane Ward, in a one-on-one swordsmanship duel…”

“…Haha, they’re insane. Completely insane.”

The Seton Master burst into laughter.

He’d never believed that extreme anger could make you laugh, but now he did.

His head was burning.

He was so furious he couldn’t speak without laughing to cool off.

‘These beggar brats dare challenge a hall-trained student to a duel?’

It was a tremendous insult.

Though not a prestigious hall admitting only top talents, and though his own skill was modest… it was never a level orphans could challenge.

He had to accept.

No, beyond accepting, he had to crush them thoroughly, utterly.

Only then would such incidents stop, and they’d never be disrespected by nobodies again.

“Fine. I’ll accept! It’s humiliating to even entertain it, but… avoiding it might spark rumors, so no choice. Is Dane Ward here?”

“Yes, he is. He’s facing off with the orphanage side with a sour face… If you give the okay, he’s ready to accept the duel.”

“Good. If he’d acted before my approval, public opinion would’ve worsened. At least he has some sense… Alright. Let all the orphanage people into the hall. Let’s get rid of outside eyes first.”

“Understood.”

“Instructor Kane, prepare the training ground for the duel.”

“Understood.”

The two instructors quickly left, and alone, the Seton Master let out another hollow laugh.

No matter how he thought about it, it was absurd, but he felt it was for the best.

‘Better to chase them off with a beating from a blunt sword than apologize. Though…’

He was slightly curious about the kid representing the orphanage.

Who could it be?

He doubted kids who’d never seen proper swordsmanship could be impressive, but just in case…

Feeling a sliver of unease, he headed to the training ground, where he spotted the orphanage group. Naturally, his eyes fell on the kid at the front, holding a blunt sword, clearly their representative.

At that moment.

“Pfft!”

Samuel Seton couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

* * *

“…Will he be okay, Cain?”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“What do we do then?”

“I don’t know. Damn it…”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have told the director? But I didn’t know it’d turn out like this…”

“Ugh, shut up, Huck! It’s already happened, so what do you want!”

“…Sorry.”

“No, it’s not about being sorry… Argh, I don’t know.”

Scratching his head furiously, the orphanage kid Cain glared around with irritation.

He was embarrassed.

He was annoyed.

Getting beaten up by the swordsmanship hall kid, losing his passion for swordsmanship, and now this scrawny kid brought to give them hope—nothing was pleasing.

The last part annoyed him the most.

An orphan?

A beggar until recently, barely a year into learning swordsmanship?

It was obvious at a glance. This Glen kid had no trace of nobility.

‘He’s like us.’

Yet, despite that, despite growing up in the same poor, uneducated, miserable environment, he stood glaring at the swordsmanship hall kids with fierce eyes.

That fact stirred complex emotions in Cain.

“…Hey.”

“……”

“Hey, kid!”

“Oh, huh? You calling me?”

“Yeah, Glen. I’m calling you.”

“Got it. You’re Cain, right? Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, my foot. I’m not here to exchange pleasantries!”

“Then why…”

“Forget it, just say you can’t do it now.”

“…? Why?”

“Why? So you don’t get humiliated for stepping up, or cry after breaking something. Ask the director or that guy next to you for help instead!”

Exactly.

That was the most sensible choice.

Cain knew how strong the orphanage director, Hagio, was. And the black-haired young man beside him was terrifyingly powerful.

They were likely skilled enough to handle the swordsmanship hall kids with ease.

But they didn’t step in.

And Glen didn’t seem to want their help.

Cain couldn’t understand.

Why?

With certain defeat ahead, With strong allies right beside him, why was he so stubborn?

That’s what he was thinking when—

“Hm. Well, you see.”

The kid named Glen, after long deliberation, finally spoke.

“Because I’m a mercenary.”

“…What?”

“Because I’m a mercenary. I’ve accepted a request, so I have to step up.”

“……”

“Of course, like you said, if Boss Harang or Sir Hagio helped, beating those guys would be nothing… but that wouldn’t fulfill the request. The goal isn’t just to defeat Dane Ward.”

“Then… what is it?”

“Hope, and courage.”

“……”

“To give kids like me—parentless, powerless, with nothing—the drive to strive.”

That was the end of the conversation.

With a gentle smile, Glen turned away, his gaze landing on a boy standing with a smirking grin.

Stylish blonde hair.

A well-fitted swordsmanship hall uniform.

Tall stature and sturdy build.

Looking nothing like a 13-year-old, he was Glen’s opponent for the duel—Dane Ward.

“Hey, kid, you dared challenge me to a duel?”

“Yeah.”

“Haha… Got some guts. Or are you just showing off for your friends?”

“……”

“Look, don’t bother. If you get your limbs broken showing off and spend months recovering, you’ll regret today’s choice… Why not just give up now?”

“No plans to.”

“Good thinking. I’m too angry to let you off anyway.”

Shing—!

Dane Ward drew his sword from its sheath.

A blunt sword, but still a weapon capable of harm. Cain, the orphanage boy, grimaced. He knew better than anyone how painful it was to be struck by it—his arm still throbbed from last time.

But more painful was his heart.

Why was he in such a pathetic state?

Why was that kid born with everything?

Why did the gap between him and that kid keep widening, never closing, as they grew older?

“Begin the duel!”

While Cain was lost in self-loathing, Samuel Seton, the hall master, announced the start.

With a smirk, Dane Ward stepped forward, seemingly unconcerned with distance or spacing. To Cain, who knew little of swordsmanship, it only felt threatening.

But not to Glen.

A boy who had endured a year under Harang, the top-ranked Godok of the village, swung his sword with terrifying speed, belying his unassuming appearance.

Shweeeek—!

Clang!

Whirrr…

Clatter!

“……”

“……”

“……”

In a single strike,

He sent his opponent’s sword flying.

The arena fell silent.