Surviving as a Villain at the Academy chapter 115

115 – The end is always a cliché. (2)

How many times is it now?

Crack.

My body twists.

Snap.

It splits in half.

Kwaaang!

Disappearing without a trace.

“Ah…”

As soon as I got up from the bed, I let out a deep sigh.

“Seriously, am I really that strong, my future self?

-Did you lose again?

As I groaned in frustration, the elegant tone that used to define me seemed to vanish into the oppressive silence of the shackles that bound me, and the questioning sword asked me as if annoyed.

“Yeah. Lost again. I mean, how strong is my future self, anyway?”

Surely the original Frah wouldn’t be that strong… Ah. Considering that my future self is based on the current me, it’s plausible to be formidable.

As it is, I’m well aware of the tremendous speed at which I’m growing. So, what if I survived until the latter part of the chapter, even if I missed a few hidden pieces?

I’d probably be ridiculously strong. Hence, I’m stuck here, unable to write or move a finger.

Being stuck is fine. But the problem is that it’s really damn painful.

No matter how accustomed someone is to pain, the agony of being split in half or crushed while still alive is unbearable.

If one continues to endure such pain, usually the mind would break… But my lofty mental strength, seemingly refusing to succumb to the mere pain, keeps my sanity intact.

…Damn it.

In the end, I have to go meet my future self again. I might as well develop some affection. Damn it.

What did I eat to become this strong?

I’m used to the space swapping by now. It couldn’t be helped; I’ve experienced it too much.

I stared blankly at my future self, silently raising the sword.

Here we go again. Another round of heading. It feels like I’ve become the protagonist of a hardcore action RPG, endlessly banging my head against the challenges to clear the extreme difficulty, struggling against bosses to cut through.

Yeah. If I’m the protagonist, there’s no way I’ll be defeated here.

Even if my body contorts and splits in half, once I win at the end, it’s my victory.

Alright. I’ve set my goal.

My current goal is to defeat my future self…”

You’re making a contract, he said.

* * *

Swords clashed. Prahl looked at his future self and felt it.

Certainly, he could endure.

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As if to affirm that the deaths so far were not in vain, his swordsmanship flew sharply and gallantly toward his future self.

Crash!

However, the future Prahl, with his peculiar glass-like pupils, also thrust his sword towards his past self. As if commanded to do so, like a puppet.

It couldn’t be simply ignored as a puppet’s swordplay. The swordsmanship unleashed by the future Prahl was truly a catastrophic strike.

With each swing, the earth cracked, and space tore apart.

If the used sword technique was nothing but the Imperial Sword Technique, what would happen when the end of that technique was reached?

The power and pressure contained in each sword strike were impossible to predict.

Prahl thought. How could he reach that point? Is it impossible to forever remain unable to reach there?

No.

He lifted his head. Weakness should not raise its head. What was the biggest reason he became stronger here?

Mental strength.

If his mind didn’t collapse, and if he persisted to the end, he would be the ultimate winner.

He believed that and swung his sword.

It was a fragile and insignificant sword strike like a firefly, but still.

Unlike the first time he faced his future self, his sword did not break.

Swords clashed. It was beyond counting how many times they clashed. However, perhaps because he frequently faced extreme situations, Prahl’s skill was rising exponentially.

It’s only natural that even if you die, the memories of being hit won’t disappear.

A fight with a naturally high-level opponent is a way to further develop oneself. Especially when the opponent uses the same swordsmanship as oneself.

Frah continued to fight his future self. No matter how many times his body twisted and turned, no matter how many geometric patterns it traced.

Having his body cut into a star shape was not a pleasant experience for Frah.

* * *

How many times had they fought like this? I was starting to get a sense of it.

How can I reach that guy?

My mind was firm, and my body, influenced by a strong spirit, had grown to the point where I was surprised. Unconsciously, as I was being destroyed by my future self, my mental strength had become so strong that it was unrecognizable.

Indeed. If mental strength doesn’t increase, that’s strange. How can mental strength not increase when the body is being cut into a star shape? And I didn’t even faint at that time.

Continuing to endure that pain, it’s strange if it doesn’t increase.

Anyway, I was gradually able to properly withstand his attacks. The sword didn’t break anymore, and I didn’t collapse after one or two sword strikes.

Of course, I wasn’t at an equal level, and I still had a long way to go… But still, I felt like I could praise myself just for coming this far.

But it was not enough to be satisfied. My goal wasn’t just to withstand his attacks.

It was to break him. That was my purpose. If I’m going to draw a sword, I might as well use it. He’s the one who cut my body into a star shape. I felt like I had to do the same to him to satisfy my sense of justice.

The restraints’ sword actually looked favorably upon my attitude. You need that kind of determination, don’t you?

Having died so many times, I was at the point where I didn’t even feel the pain much anymore.

Of course, this was also a phenomenon created by my desire to resist the pain. In the end, in a world where mental strength is the foundation, as my mental strength grew, I felt myself getting exponentially stronger.

When I return to reality, it will be difficult to adapt for a while.

In reality, I probably won’t be able to demonstrate the same level of ability as in this space.

Reality is not a world influenced by mental strength. Of course… It’s undeniable that my skill will be much better than before.

The skills and enlightenment honed here don’t simply disappear into thin air.

They just diminish in power.

A smile formed on my lips. Alright. Shall I go all out and shatter them today as well?

In order to win in the very end.

* * *

He swings his sword. The only swordsmanship he knows is Imperial Swordsmanship. It’s the swordsmanship I excel at now, and the one I’ve put the most effort into.

They call it Imperial Swordsmanship because anyone from the empire learns it. In other words, it’s the most fundamental of fundamentals. It’s not flashy, just straightforward basics.

But as it often happens, when straightforward basics reach their peak, there’s nothing more terrifying than that.

I can’t simply block or dodge his sword swings.

I don’t believe any fancy swordplay will overcome the Imperial Swordsmanship I will display in the future.

Having superior basics ultimately comes down to being at the core of all swordsmanship.

So, in order to defeat him, my swordsmanship needs to be on par with his. And that’s something that cannot be achieved in such a short time.

Fortunately, in this place, the passage of time in the real world doesn’t occur no matter how many times I die. It seemed like this space itself was similar to the inner world of the Sword of Restraint.

It’s not that it’s important that the Sword of Restraint doesn’t give up on me for no reason. If it had given up, it would have been the end here.

I raised my sword. Again and again, I faced off against my future self wielding the sword.

Kaaang!

A sharp sound of metal reverberates in my ears. I exerted force and deflected the sword. However, even though I deflected it, his sword persistently aimed for my vital point. The pressure from the swing that targeted my collarbone was significant.

If it hit there, my body would be split in half from the collarbone down. I tried to dodge by twisting my body, but I couldn’t avoid it. His speed was far superior to mine.

He slashes at my body again. But at the very least, it won’t end like this.

In the moment my body is about to be split in half, I swiftly move my sword and thrust it towards his neck. However, my sword, dangerously close, stops in front of his neck.

It was indeed insufficient.

The sound of a cold blade cutting through flesh and splitting the heart echoes. It has become somewhat familiar, but the lingering pain still gnaws at my mind, followed by the view of the familiar bedroom.

– I lost again.

“Yeah. But… at least I can rebel now.”

I said that while laughing.

The swordsmanship displayed by my future self… It means that even the current me can achieve it. It’s just a matter of time, as I was once my future self too.

If that’s the case, I can win.

Even if I have to challenge it thousands, tens of thousands, or even tens of millions of times, I will break through.