Repeat Vice - The Villainous Noble Doesn't Want to Die, So He Swore to Not Die As One of The Four Heavenly Kings - Chapter 49: Monsters

Chapter 49: Monsters

The courtyard of the Lightless family’s secondary mansion.

This place, lined with multiple bundles of straw, is where Rofus practices his magic and swordsmanship.

Here, Carlos, wielding a wooden sword, skillfully deflects Rofus’s blunt-edged scythe with minimal movement.

“That was a good strike, Master Rofus,” Carlos says with a smile.

Rofus clicks his tongue in response. “…It sounds like sarcasm.”

“Of course not, I would never.”

Carlos genuinely means it, but Rofus remains unconvinced.

Currently, Rofus is engaged in a mock battle without using magic or physical enhancement from magical energy.

Although Rofus is a mage, his body is lean and muscular, albeit not to the extent of a warrior specializing in close combat. This is because he understands the vulnerability of mages in close quarters and refuses to neglect this weakness.

Having Carlos, a master swordsman, nearby has made Rofus acutely aware that if he were to be attacked at a speed beyond his reaction time, he would be defeated before he could cast a spell.

The skill of close combat is essential for a mage.

This is Rofus’s conviction and also a conclusion reached by the highest-ranking mages.

For this reason, Rofus never skips his daily exercises, ensuring that his body is at least capable of the minimum required movement in emergencies.

Additionally, Rofus has been receiving sword training from Carlos for some time, and his sword skills are on par with an active knight.

Although he doesn’t match the level of a dark knight, his abilities are impressive for a 12-year-old.

Incidentally, Rofus holds the title of a second-class swordsman in the kingdom, indicating that the kingdom recognizes his high level of swordsmanship.

By the way, the requirement for knights is a skill equivalent to a third-class swordsman, highlighting Rofus’s prowess.

If his left arm had been fully functional, the outcome of his battle with Valm might have been different, or at least he would have been able to put up a better fight.

Despite this, Rofus is aware that he lacks a natural talent for the sword.

This fact is evident even to Carlos, who directly trained him.

Rofus’s swordsmanship is by the book, for better or worse.

While it’s good to be faithful to the basics, it also means he lacks originality.

Rofus simply swings his sword as he was taught, without any further development.

His sword skills are limited to the basics.

Even Carlos sees Rofus’s movements as refined, but neither weak nor particularly strong.

Rofus’s swordsmanship won’t reach the heights of mastery.

This is Carlos’s evaluation of Rofus’s sword skills.

Carlos had told Rofus on the first day of training that he had no natural talent for the sword.

Rofus neither got angry nor sad, but simply continued to swing his sword silently.

It took Rofus only a year to earn the qualification of a second-class swordsman.

A qualification that typically takes a person who has been swinging a sword since childhood until adulthood to achieve.

Rofus, who earned this qualification in just one year, was rightly whispered about as a genius by those around him.

People wondered if the genius mage was also a genius with the sword.

However, Carlos’s evaluation of Rofus remained unchanged.

Rofus, on the day he obtained the second-class swordsman qualification, set his sword aside.

Since then, Rofus has kept up with his daily exercises but only swings a sword occasionally to keep from getting rusty.

Hence, Carlos was surprised by the sharpness of the scythe Rofus wielded.

“Master, why did you decide to wield a scythe?”

While clashing a wooden sword with a scythe, Carlos asks.

“…I thought it would be easier to use than a sword.”

“Ordinarily, changing weapons is not advisable, especially in actual combat…”

“Is this a lecture?”

“No, it’s just that in your case, a scythe might not be a bad choice.”

As Carlos says this, he deflects Rofus’s scythe with his wooden sword, sending it spinning and embedding it into the ground.

Rofus, with a vein popping on his forehead, grumbles.

“Really? Your actions don’t match your words.”

“That’s a misunderstanding. I was merely impressed by the sharpness of your scythe.”

“Stop making excuses.”

Rofus spits out and goes to retrieve his scythe.

“Master, do you remember what I told you the first day you picked up a sword?”

“Hmm? That I had no talent for the sword, right? Well, you were right. What about it?”

“To be precise, I said you had ‘potential but no talent.'”

“…An odd way to put it, but it means the same thing.”

“No, no…”

Carlos shakes his head with a smile, and in the next instant, raises his sword before Rofus.

“The difference between potential and talent is vast.”

Saying this, Carlos swings his sword down, which Rofus blocks with his scythe.

In the clash between the wooden sword and the scythe, Carlos has the upper hand.

That’s to be expected.

Even though he’s older, Carlos has the advantage in physical strength and muscle, and Rofus has only one arm.

Moreover, at this moment, Carlos is using magical power.

“Carlos… I said this is a practical training, but using magic is cheating.”

“You responded well. It seems you haven’t neglected your training.”

“You’re the one who first taught me to deal with speeds imperceptible to the naked eye from magic users.”

Satisfied, Carlos lowers his sword and straightens his posture.

“I still hold that you have no talent for the sword. However, I might have been wrong in my teaching approach. Perhaps you would have grown more if I had let you swing the sword freely without adhering to forms.”

“Really now. What makes you think that?”

“Because the sharpness of your scythe suggests so. A blade without form is harder to read. Normally, we start with basic swings and forms, but perhaps for you, endless practical training would have been better.”

Carlos pauses before continuing.

“I find your scythe without form more terrifying than a second-class sword.”

“…So you’re saying I have a talent for the scythe?”

“No, you have no talent. None at all.”

With Carlos’s blunt denial, Rofus silently swings his scythe, which Carlos dodges.

“…Hey. Don’t dodge.”

“That’s unreasonable.”

“After all that praise, you say I have no talent?”

“You have potential. Maybe more for the scythe than the sword. But talent…”

“I need to hear what you mean by talent!”

As Rofus swings his scythe again, Carlos deflects it with the tip of his wooden sword, nullifying its power.

A sword technique so refined it could be called a miracle, Rofus clicks his tongue.

It’s a realization that no matter how much he learns and refines his techniques, he cannot reach that pinnacle.

Carlos looks at Rofus and speaks.

＊

“When I speak of talent, I mean whether you ‘love’ it.”

Carlos lovingly looks at his wooden sword as he speaks.

“Do you mean ‘love’?”

“Does it sound like a joke? But it’s no laughing matter. Especially for me, who has lived my life loving the sword. The sword is like my other half. And Master Rofus has already found such an existence.”

Understanding what Carlos implies, Rofus shrugs.

“You’re talking about magic.”

“Indeed. People cannot have two things they can call their other half. It’s unique. Therefore, you see swords and scythes merely as tools or means to fight. You can’t see them as anything else.”

“You mean with such a superficial view, I can never master them?”

In response to Rofus’s question, Carlos quietly nods.

“It’s unfortunate. You have such wonderful potential. If you could have loved the sword, you might have become a swordsman greater than I.”

“Hmph. You’re quite the smooth talker. Did you learn to sweet-talk during your vacation?”

“Yes. It was a very fruitful vacation, truly.”

Carlos’s meaningful smile makes Rofus tilt his head.

“By the way, why the sudden training? It’s been a long time since you chose me as your training partner.”

Seeing Rofus in a good mood, Carlos takes the chance to ask something that’s been on his mind.

Rofus stopped training with Carlos after obtaining the second-class swordsman qualification.

Now, he suddenly requests sparring, even bringing out a scythe.

Carlos is understandably curious.

“…There was an incident that reminded me of the importance of close combat. And I still need to become much stronger.”

“I believe you’re already quite strong…”

“Stronger than Father?”

“That’s…”

Carlos falls silent.

Rofus’s eyes narrow.

“My father became the head of the Lightless family at the age of fifteen, the youngest in our history, even though he officially took on the duties at eighteen after graduating from the academy.”

Carlos listens quietly.

“The conditions to become the head of the Lightless family are known to you.”

“…Yes. One must be a direct descendant, be an adult, and…”

“——Be strong.”

Rofus clenches his right hand firmly.

“At fifteen, my father defeated the previous head, his own father, who was feared as the ‘Dark Reaper’ during the empire war. Despite his low magical power, the lowest in Lightless history.”

Rofus recalls the scene in the Steria territory.

Despite his disadvantage, his father, Ludens, erased Lord Adler’s unchanted

 spell with ease and remained unscathed against countless attackers.

Even in unfavorable conditions, Ludens was unyielding and became a true symbol of power in the kingdom.

“He is strong. But…”

“Master?”

“But still, I have to surpass him. Not only as a mage but also in close combat.”

“Master Rofus…”

“Will you help me, Carlos?”

Rofus extends his left hand, the one holding the scythe, toward Carlos.

Carlos gently places his hand on top.

“My wish is to protect you. If it helps you, I will teach you everything I know.”

The sharpness of Carlos’s eyes intensifies.

For the first time, Carlos recognizes the fire in Rofus’s heart.

Aiming for strength beyond the heavens, this boy may truly surpass his father and bring prosperity to the Lightless family and the entire kingdom.

This might be the path to becoming the strongest mage.

“…Then let’s start from scratch. We’ll practice until you master the scythe.”

“Hah! Then I’ll show you the future of the strongest.”

On this day, the practice between Rofus and Carlos continued until sunset, with no signs of stopping.

“When I was still inexperienced, there was a time when I lost control of my immense magical power. It was four years ago. I have never forgotten the darkness my father used back then.”

The abyss-like darkness wielded by Ludens, devoid of any spell formula, was not something Rofus had seen for the first time.

It was the event that led to Rofus being moved to the secondary mansion.

Rofus’s magic went berserk, inflicting lifelong psychological trauma on his younger brother and mother.

The scale of that rampage was truly comparable to a natural disaster.

Had it not been stopped, it would have caused extensive damage not just to the capital but to the entire Lightless territory.

The one who stopped it was none other than Ludens, the head of the Lightless family.

Shielding his nearly dead brother and mother, he suppressed Rofus’s magical rampage head-on.

Covered in the abyss-like darkness, devoid of any spell formula.

Rofus clearly saw that, even in his fading consciousness.

Overwhelming power crushed by a far smaller force.

The sight defied logic and planted something other than admiration in Rofus.

It was a profound despair over his own inadequacy and an unparalleled sense of inferiority.

“Hah, what nonsense about ants and dragons. How could an ant ever defeat a dragon? If I’m a genius, then what is my father? A monster?”

“The power of Lord Rudens is the result of extraordinary effort.”

“Ridiculous. Magic is all about talent. It’s not a matter of playing with words like ‘love’ or whatever you say. The total amount of magical power and magical sense are everything. And you call that effort?”

“Young master… if you continue like this, you’ll be denying your own efforts.”

“Say no more, Carlos. Not even you are permitted to speak further.”

Faced with Rofus’s clear anger, Carlos fell silent.

“There’s no summit to be reached through effort. Everyone in this world makes an effort, to varying degrees. It’s not something to be proud of.”

For Rofus, making an effort was as natural as breathing or eating in order to live.

That’s why Rofus never neglected his dedication to both magic and swordsmanship.

Especially regarding magic, Rofus was born with an exceptional aptitude that left others far behind.

Therefore, he made an effort.

Therefore, he trained.

Effort was a given, naturally.

He spent most of his life on magic.

Yet, there were still heights he could not reach.

Like Rudens, like Raymond.

Those with less magical power than him had reached those heights.

That fact instilled Rofus with an unparalleled sense of inferiority.

“Young master…”

“——Excuse me.”

Just as Carlos was about to say something, a black-haired maid entered the courtyard.

It was Yurika, recently demoted from Rofus’s dark knight and formally made his exclusive maid.

She was no longer wearing the dark knight’s armor, but rather the black-themed uniform of the Lightless household servants.

Yurika, noticing Rofus’s agitated state, wiped the sweat from his forehead with a cold towel.

“Young master, I have something urgent to convey… am I interrupting?”

Rofus responded magnanimously to the reserved Yurika.

“No problem. What is it?”

“Actually…”

As Yurika began to speak, Rofus sensed a change.

From outside the secondary mansion.

Something pierced through Rofus’s magical perception, an incredibly distinctive magical power.

What is this? Rofus frowned.

Unaware of this, Yurika continued.

“A letter arrived for you earlier, young master.”

“A letter?”

On the message card handed to Rofus, there was only one sentence.

“I’ll be visiting today. From your friend.”

The message card, addressed to Rofus, contained only that one line.

On the back of the card was a crest resembling the scales of a red dragon.

Rofus’s face twisted.

It was the crest of the Duke of Galeon.