"Hey, did you know? Apparently a special instructor's been brought in for our mock battles starting today."
"Yeah, I heard. But what kind of guy is he? Going to the trouble of bringing someone in from outside means he must be pretty confident in his skills."
"Hmph. Makes no difference to me who the opponent is. Though if I had a choice, I'd at least hope it isn't some lowborn."
"Tch, that's Insula again."
"Just ignore him. The guy actually has the skills to back up his big talk. It's already decided that he'll join the knight order after graduation. ...Why not try getting on his good side while you can?"
"Pass. Why would I suck up to a rotten noble like him? Besides, I'm becoming an adventurer after I graduate, so I couldn't care less about the knight order."
"Hey, keep your voice down! Look, Insula's glaring at you."
"Let's change the subject. ...So, what kind of person is this mock battle instructor anyway?"
"The subject hasn't changed. If anything, it just circled right back."
This conversation was taking place inside one of the buildings on the Officer Academy grounds.
It served, essentially, as a gymnasium—a place to exercise during winter and rain.
As befitting an academy that fed into a duke's knight order, the gymnasium was warmed by magic items, maintaining a comfort that made it hard to believe winter waited just outside.
The students present were mostly in their late teens, with a few in their twenties mixed in.
The age gap came from the fact that each student had enrolled at a different time.
Being the S-Class meant they were among the most capable students the academy had to offer—but precisely because of that, more than a few of them overestimated their own abilities.
Of course, that was a problem confined to the school. Once they graduated and became knights or adventurers, reality would humble many of them soon enough.
"He's here!"
One of the students who had been chatting called out sharply.
At once, every pair of eyes in the room locked onto the gymnasium entrance.
Two figures walked in.
One was Grink, one of the mock battle instructors.
His shaved head and heavily muscled frame left an immediate, powerful impression.
And the other figure... as the gaze of everyone present shifted to the person who had entered alongside Grink, audible groans of disappointment rippled through the room.
Some students were even smirking.
They simply could not believe that someone so small could teach them anything in combat.
It was the textbook reaction Rei drew wherever he went.
If anyone present had possessed a certain degree of real skill, they might have read Rei's strength in his bearing alone.
But while these students were talented within the context of their school, that was all it was—a school.
Not a single one of them could comprehend the sheer, overwhelming gulf between themselves and Rei.
"Hey, is that guy really the new instructor? For mock battles?"
"...Why someone like him?"
"Well, the robe probably means he's an adventurer or something... but he doesn't exactly look the part."
The students murmured among themselves in hushed tones, keeping their voices low enough that only those nearby could hear.
They weren't being considerate of Rei—they were being considerate of Grink.
Scorn, suspicion, superiority. Rei could feel all of it bearing down on him from every direction, yet Grink said nothing. He simply led Rei to the front of the room and positioned him before the students.
Grink understood that anything he said here would be essentially pointless.
Far better to let them witness Rei's ability with their own eyes—that would be the quickest, most convincing proof.
He swept his gaze across the assembled students, confirmed there were no absences, and spoke.
"Now then, it appears all the S-Class students are present. Before we begin today's lesson, allow me to introduce someone."
The phrase "allow me to introduce someone," coming from Grink, drew looks of surprise from every student in the room.
Naturally. While those present were only S-Class students, not a single one of them had ever managed to defeat Grink.
For Grink to introduce someone with such deliberate courtesy was unprecedented.
Despite the gentlemanly personality that belied his intimidating exterior, he almost never made formal introductions like this.
"For the next few months—specifically, until spring—this person will be co-teaching the mock battle classes alongside me. This is Rei."
Even after hearing that, no one in the room could muster a response.
They were still trying to figure out who the person standing before them actually was.
"Rei, if you would."
"Got it."
Prompted by Grink, Rei took a step forward and lowered his hood.
The moment his face came into view, most of the students were at a complete loss for how to react.
Small wonder. The person they had been scrutinizing was around their age—if not clearly younger.
Rei bore the full weight of their bewildered stares without so much as a twitch. He had encountered this kind of reaction to his appearance more times than he cared to count.
A few of the female students actually found him rather attractive, though none let it show.
...Meanwhile, certain nobles—practically vibrating with entitlement—were visibly irritated by the sight of him. Rei couldn't have cared less.
"I'm Rei," he said. "Though I imagine that alone doesn't tell you much about who I am. B-Rank Adventurer, Crimson Rei. That ought to make things clear."
The moment the word "Crimson" left his mouth, a ripple of commotion spread through the students who had heard the rumors.
A ripple so loud they seemed to forget that Grink—their instructor—was standing right there.
It was hardly surprising. They had just learned that a living legend stood before them.
"Wait, Crimson... seriously?"
"How should I know? But from what I've heard, Crimson commands a Gryphon, right? I don't see one anywhere."
"If you want to go down that road, wasn't he supposed to carry a scythe? He doesn't have that either. So he's making it all up?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Do you really think Instructor Grink would go along with someone using a fake name? Besides, the fact that he's standing here as our instructor means the Academy Headmaster must have met him. You don't actually think anyone could fool the Academy Headmaster, do you?"
"I told you, it's 'Instructor,' not 'Teacher'... well, whatever. Maybe he just slipped past the Academy Headmaster without being noticed?"
"...Are you serious? Even if he tried something like that, the Academy Headmaster's familiar would catch him in an instant."
It was common knowledge that the Academy Headmaster used a small bird as a familiar, sending it soaring across the campus.
The headmaster claimed it was simply a way to keep an eye on the grounds, but exactly how many people actually believed that was another matter.
Regardless of the reason, the fact remained: the Academy Headmaster's bird familiar patrolled the school grounds day in and day out.
If asked whether a suspicious character could brazenly slip onto school grounds right under those watchful eyes, almost anyone who knew the Academy Headmaster would answer with an emphatic no.
In fact, there was a proven track record—suspicious individuals had been caught trying to enter the grounds several times a year.
Weighing all of this, the students had no choice but to conclude that the person standing before them was, in fact, the adventurer who bore the name Crimson—just as he claimed.
A few wondered whether he might have given a different name to the Academy Headmaster and was only using the name Crimson here, but they quickly dismissed the idea. Pulling a stunt like that would serve no purpose whatsoever.
Rei glanced over the students—who could fairly be described as being in a state of half-confusion—and spoke again.
"Now then. It seems quite a few of you still can't believe I'm the real thing, even with me standing right here. Honestly, I can't blame you. So, to settle this quickly, I'd like to hold a mock battle. And since I'll be serving as your mock battle instructor, I need to properly assess where you all stand in terms of actual combat ability."
At Rei's words, the students fell silent for a moment—before hostility bubbled to the surface.
Even those who didn't voice it outright wore expressions that were anything but friendly.
Their defiance was sharper than Rei had anticipated, and for a moment, genuine surprise flickered across his face.
Though, to be fair, a good portion of that surprise stemmed from the students' utter inability to read their opponent.
"Very well. Then I'll be the first to test you. If you truly are Crimson, then this is exactly the opportunity I've been waiting for. But if your skills don't live up to that name... a simple apology won't be enough!"
The one who barked this was a man who looked every inch a noble. Rei didn't know his name, but the other students had been calling him Insula.
The reason was obvious enough: the metal armor he wore was, by any reasonable standard, not something a student would possess.
It was equipment that wouldn't have looked out of place on a C-Rank Adventurer.
Though if his skill doesn't match the gear, none of it means a thing.
Insula clearly had confidence in his abilities relative to the others in the room. His declaration seconds ago had made that abundantly clear.
But even so—his skill was hopelessly, laughably insufficient.
"Fine. Let's do this. Grink, the mock battle weapons?"
"Over there. You all—sorry, but bring them here, please."
At Grink's instruction, one student and several others grabbed baskets that had been sitting along the gymnasium wall and carried them over.
Inside were numerous weapons: longswords, spears, battle axes, halberds.
Naturally, as mock battle weapons, the blades were blunted.
...Even so, metal weapons were heavy. Blunted or not, each one could function as a club.
If Rei swung one with his full strength, it would become a lethal instrument.
Rei reached into the basket and picked up a spear.
His weapon of choice was, as anyone familiar with his reputation knew, the great scythe Death Scythe.
But there was no chance the academy would stock such a niche weapon for mock battles, so he settled for the spear—the weapon he used most often after the scythe.
Mind you, Rei's primary method of employing a spear was throwing it. He had comparatively little experience wielding one in conventional close combat.
Even so, he judged that someone swinging a blunted longsword was more than manageable. He readied the spear.
"Come at me. I'll show you exactly why coming at me alone is pointless."
"Don't screw with me!"
Whatever patience Insula had left shattered at Rei's words. He raised his longsword high and swung it down at Rei—but before the blade could even begin its arc, the tip of Rei's spear was already hovering a hair's breadth from his face.
"Huh?"
Insula let out a dumb, bewildered sound. He had no idea what had just happened.
But then, neither did anyone else watching.
One moment something had flashed, almost too fast to track—and the next, the spear tip was resting against Insula's face, held casually in Rei's hand as though it had always been there.
"What's the matter? Already finished?"
"—!? No! I just let my guard down!"
"I see. Care to try again?"
Rei drew the spear back and stepped away from Insula, putting a few paces between them.
Recognizing the unspoken signal to reset, Insula raised his longsword once more.
But the anger that had clouded his expression a moment ago was gone.
He still wasn't sure whether the person before him was truly the man called Crimson—but he understood, at least, that he was facing someone far beyond his league.
Underestimating an opponent like that would only guarantee his own defeat. Insula forced his mind into focus.
"Haaaaaaah!"
With a fierce shout, he lunged forward and brought the longsword crashing down.
"Too slow."
What Insula poured every ounce of strength into, Rei saw coming with time to spare. Saying it would have made him yawn might have been an exaggeration—but only slightly.
Rei caught the descending blade against the flat of his spear tip, guiding it with a subtle, circular motion that absorbed the impact and redirected the momentum. Before Insula could process what was happening, the longsword was wrenched from his grip—tangled against the spear shaft and sent spinning through the air.
And in the same fluid motion, the spear tip came to rest before Insula's eyes once more.
Complete and absolute defeat.