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After I visited the capital, the pastry club room transformed into a multi-purpose space.

It had already been a pseudo-multipurpose space thanks to its eccentric members, but at least back then, the chessboards and poker cards stayed hidden in a drawer. Now, massive tools unrelated to baking had taken up permanent residence, boldly claiming their spots in the room.

“If we grind the scales into existing elixirs… No, wait. Soaking them directly in the potion to age might work even better.”

“That’s not a bad idea. With such high-quality materials, the effects would be incredible.”

The Mage Duchess spoke as if she was seeking my agreement. Of course, I was just a swordsman, so I had no idea whether it was good or bad. I just nodded along because she seemed genuinely happy.

“Fufu, look forward to it. Something beyond your imagination will be created.”

At my response, the Mage Duchess smiled deeply and dropped the scales into the potion.

Dragon scale-infused liquor.

The thought came to me instinctively. It felt disrespectful to the dragon who generously gave us these precious items, but I couldn’t help it. The setup looked exactly like someone making artisanal liquor. 78-year-aged golden dragon scale - just the name sounded grand—

Grand, my ass.

Shaking off the ridiculous idea, I turned my attention to the table where the precious scales and claws were. The Mage Duchess, whose ears were already perked up after being shown around the mansion, couldn’t hide her joy upon seeing the dragon byproducts. For a mage, dragon byproducts were top-tier materials. Especially since, unlike blood, these couldn’t be obtained periodically, making them even more precious.

Having suddenly acquired such valuable items, the Mage Duchess’s ears flapped with excitement at the fantastic combination of ‘a gift from me + experimental materials to fuel a mage’s passion,’ and she set up all sorts of experimental equipment in the pastry club room.

Fortunately, the other members didn’t particularly mind. Lather, for instance, was thrilled to be able to watch the Mage Duchess’s experiments in real-time. Even Louise, the club leader and a mage herself, showed interest.

And to think someone wanted to turn this into jewelry.

I couldn’t get over it. Materials the Mage Duchess handled with reverence and that mages coveted as treasures were almost reduced to mere jewelry. If that had actually happened, the person responsible might’ve gone down in history as a lunatic.

It was fortunate that he came to his senses before handing it over to a craftsman. Between accessories made from dragon scales and a sword made from dragon claws, the latter was undoubtedly the more impressive choice.

***

On one side, magical experiments were underway; on the other was baking. At first, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was sanitary.

“History exams these days seem entirely focused on the North.”

“Let’s think positively. Where else but the academy would we learn about the North’s history?”

Thankfully, the academy entered the exam period, meaning we avoided overlapping experiments and baking sessions. If it weren’t exam time, experiments would only have happened while the members were in class.

“Theoretical exams are just a hassle. For knights, shouldn’t practical exams be enough?”

“You’re right. Knights speak with their swords.”

Rutis nodded vigorously, seemingly agreeing with Erich’s grumbling.

Meanwhile, the notebook in front of him hadn’t moved past the first page. He looked so uninterested that Villar would’ve been disappointed to see this.

Empty-headed bastard.

It was pitiful. Even if physical strength was important for a knight, they needed some basic brains. A swordsman with nothing in his head wasn’t a knight but a thug.

Sarah seemed to share my thoughts as she glanced at Erich again and again. She probably couldn’t bring herself to say anything to a foreign prince, but it looked like she couldn’t bear to see her beloved childhood friend turn into a stupid knight.

“By the way, Erich, have you decided on your duel partner?”

I saw Sarah flinch when Rutis suddenly talked to Erich.

She didn’t have to worry. Just talking to Rutis wouldn’t lower one’s IQ. Besides, while Rutis’s actions were strange, his intelligence itself was surprisingly decent. The problem was that he invested that intelligence into his eccentricities.

Anyway, Erich shook his head lightly at Rutis’s question.

“Not yet. I don’t have anyone specific in mind, so I’ll go with whoever I’m assigned.”

He was saying that he’d leave the selection of his duel partner to the system rather than choosing manually. Students wouldn’t know each other’s abilities well during the first year, so they followed the academy’s matchmaking system.

But by the second year, most were already aware of the relative strengths and the weaknesses of their peers. Everyone knew who was stronger, who was weaker, and who matched their level. Since the Academy considered this sort of judgment a skill in itself, duel partners were allowed if both parties agreed.

So, there was usually an intense game of reading each other to find suitable duel partners for the second years, but Erich seemed confident enough in his skills to leave it to chance. The confidence of a Krasius—it was heartwarming to see.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I picked mine right away.”

Erich’s counter-question received an unexpected answer. If anything, Rutis should be more confident, not less. Did he actually go through the trouble of choosing his own opponent?

“Charles Olreed, he’s a truly exceptional knight. I wanted to face him again this year, so I signed up immediately!”

Ah.

Hearing that name, not just me but a few others in the room who knew the backstory fell silent.

This sadistic bastard. Of all the people he could have chosen, why him?

***

For a student in the swordsmanship department, the practical exam was more important than the theory exam. That was why the effort to find a suitable duel partner for a smooth and comfortable exam was crucial.

Of course, students must avoid openly choosing an opponent significantly weaker than themselves. Aside from whether the other party would accept, such an obvious ploy wouldn’t escape the instructors’ eyes. Upsetting the instructors who were grading you could make things harder instead of easier.

So, I was carefully selecting an opponent when—

“Teacher, I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?”

I never expected my caution to backfire like this.

I was surprised when I was suddenly called out by the head instructor of the swordsmanship department while preparing for the theory exam, but I was beyond shocked when I heard the reason. As a result, I even committed the rudeness of questioning the head instructor, who was also a noble.

“Student Rutis has chosen you as his duel partner for the practical exam.”

Despite my rudeness, the head instructor kindly repeated himself as if he understood my disbelief.

Honestly, at this point, I’d rather prefer for him to get angry and say that it was a joke. Please.

“But teacher, I’m not good enough. I can’t be a match for Rutis.”

I argued, barely holding onto my fading consciousness.

Yes, I was lacking. How could a mere student be a match for a prince from a kingdom of knights? This was clearly a case of a master choosing a novice. It shouldn’t be allowed.

“You’re being overly modest. If you’re unqualified, then there are hardly any students here fit to call themselves human.”

However, my reasonable objection seemed to please the head instructor, who started explaining why I was suitable as a duel partner.

Forget logic; I just wanted him to say this wasn’t going to happen. I wanted him to dismiss the idea outright. There was no way I’d be fighting a prince two years in a row.

Is he doing this on purpose?

At that moment, a logical suspicion popped into my mind. Since the prince had to spar anyway, maybe they were trying to dump it on someone experienced rather than assigning it to someone else.

No. This couldn’t happen. Didn’t I struggle like a dog last year? I was a nervous wreck during the whole match, terrified of injuring royalty or making it obvious I was trying to lose quickly. I was lucky to lose without being discovered, but there was no guarantee that luck would continue this year.

Damn, I should have just chosen Erich if I’d known this would happen. At least that way, I could’ve earned points for boldly challenging someone stronger than me and losing honorably.

“…Let me think about it a little more.”

“Of course. Selecting a duel partner should be done with care. I hope you reach a good decision.”

“Yes, thank you.”

By ‘good decision,’ the head instructor clearly meant me accepting this setup. But was it really a good decision if it meant throwing someone to the wolves?

***

Not long after, I was summoned again by the head instructor. I still hadn’t come up with a solid excuse to refuse, which put me in an awkward spot.

“You’ll get good scores if you show a good performance against a difficult opponent.”

He even dangled the bait of a good score, but I wasn’t particularly interested.

Of course, if the head instructor himself mentioned that, then it must be quite high. It would probably be a score difficult to gain through normal efforts.

“I’m not confident I can show an excellent performance.”

Still, I didn’t want to do it. I’d rather get a lower score and not do it.

“You’re underestimating yourself too much. As someone who’s watched you for the past year, I can assure you—you’re more than capable. More than enough to make me proud to call you my disciple.”

I flinched momentarily at those words. Being introduced as his disciple would mean I could receive a letter of recommendation from the head instructor, who was renowned for his swordsmanship.

…No, no. No matter what, this wasn’t right. Besides, while the head instructor’s recommendation would be nice, it wasn’t that important. I couldn’t risk getting hurt by being too greedy.

“I’m honored by your words, but I’d worry about tarnishing your reputation instead—”

“And there are others who share my opinion.”

The head instructor handed me something before I could finish. His determined expression made it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I gave up and took the papers at his face that told me to read it first before talking.

I didn’t have high expectations. It was probably recommendation letters from other instructors in the swordsmanship department. If other instructors’ recommendations were added to the head instructor’s, then it would mean that the entire department was endorsing me as a talent.

But I still didn’t want to do this even if the whole academy was endorsing me— Wait, what?

Am I dreaming?

My eyes widened as soon as I saw the papers the head instructor handed me. It was indeed recommendation letters, but not from instructors.

There were just two. However, the names on them were extraordinary.

The Prosecutors’ Office’s Executive Manager?

The first letter had the name of the Executive Manager. His reputation preceded him—a legend whispered among students. They said that any promising student he took note of would be recruited immediately upon graduation. No tests, no hoops, and just a direct line into prestigious roles in the administration or military. Last year’s student council officers had supposedly entered those very ranks under his guidance.

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t excited. The head instructor’s recommendation might open doors in the fencing world, but the Executive Manager’s was an endorsement from a powerful figure in the current government—a whole different league.

The difference in caliber was inevitable.

And the other one was—

Rutis.

This one caught me off guard in a different way. A recommendation from a foreign prince? I hadn’t expected that.

Officially, a prince’s recommendation wouldn’t carry weight within the Empire. But unofficially, a noble recognized by a foreign royal? That kind of acknowledgment carried implicit honor. People would marvel at what kind of person could earn even a prince’s acknowledgment.

Moreover, it can be flaunted within the social circles as a deep connection with royalty. Even if I didn’t pursue a career in government or the military, this letter would prove useful in countless ways.

This bastard.

At the same time, an indescribable emotion welled up. If he wrote a recommendation letter just for a duel partner request, then didn’t that mean that he knew just how desperately I wanted to avoid this match?

So he chose me while knowing this? Did he think I’d forget everything and be happy just because I received a recommendation letter?

“I can’t betray this trust. I’ll do my best.”

That’s right. My past self—the one who tried to dodge this—was gone. What was left now was a knight who bravely accepted challenges head-on.

Rolling around for free and rolling around for compensation were different, after all.

I will face this challenge with the resolve to stake my very soul for His Highness /genesisforsaken