A Dragonslayer’s Peerless Regression

Chapter 10

Zeke effortlessly dealt with Durban of the Mighty and entered the Special Class building.

In his past life, he had not received the Blessing of Aura and ranked at the bottom even within the General Class, far from making it into the Special Class.

The cadets in the General Class were required to adhere to a strict curriculum.

From morning until late at night, they moved under a suffocatingly tight schedule.

The instructors’ teaching philosophy for the General Class was that if talent was lacking, one had to overcome it through effort.

As a result, Zeke, who had neither awakened Aura nor possessed significant physical strength, had to push himself to the brink just to keep up with the lessons.

‘I really wanted to die back then.’

Recalling those memories, Zeke headed toward the homeroom of the Special Class.

When he saw the extravagantly decorated homeroom, something he could never have imagined during his time in the General Class, Zeke was left speechless.

The spacious room even had luxurious desks prepared individually for each Special Class student.

Zeke found the desk with his name on it and took his seat.

Looking to his side, he noticed Reina, whom he had met yesterday, sitting upright with perfect posture at her desk.

Scanning the room, Zeke observed that about half the students were from The Cradle, including Owen, Jakenn, and Leon.

The rest were prodigies who had received training within their respective households.

While Zeke was surveying the other students, someone entered the homeroom.

Simultaneously, all the cadets stood up from their seats.

The academy’s Dean had entered, accompanied by their homeroom instructor.

Reina, serving as the class representative, called out loudly.

“Salute the Dean!”

The cadets saluted in perfect unison, their movements crisp and precise.

The Dean, a man with an impressive Kaiser mustache, responded to the salute with a warm smile.

Every other cadet looked at the Dean with eyes full of admiration.

All except one—Zeke.

‘It’s been a while, Howard Draker.’

Howard Draker, a war hero who had earned accolades during the Eastern Empire Invasion War twenty years ago.

But Zeke knew another side of him.

‘A petty schemer hiding behind the mask of a hero.’

Above all, he was the one who had ruthlessly expelled Zeke from the academy in his past life.

Watching Howard deliver his lengthy speech, Zeke clenched his teeth.

‘I’ll make sure to settle the score one day.’

While Zeke gritted his teeth, Howard Draker concluded his speech, and the cadets responded with a standing ovation.

After the Dean left, their homeroom instructor delivered a brief announcement.

Unlike the General Class, the Special Class allowed students to choose their subjects and create their own schedules.

The privileges were starkly different from those of the General Class.

However, even in the Special Class, there were mandatory common lessons that every student had to attend.

The Special Class cadets moved together to the training grounds for their first common lesson.

True to an academy established by the Draker Household, it began not with theoretical lessons but with practical training.

The session was to teach the basics of the Dragonslaying Art.

Over a hundred new Special Class students lined up in the expansive training grounds.

Then, someone entered the grounds.

Step. Step.

A knight clad in the formal uniform embroidered with the Dragonslaying Crest appeared, drawing everyone’s attention.

The relatively young appearance of the knight made the Special Class students exchange puzzled looks.

But Zeke, upon seeing the knight, caught his breath.

‘The Knight of Crimson Eyes…! To think I’d meet Andre here.’

Andre Draker.

Though he had not achieved Pureblood Awakening, he graduated early from the academy thanks to his exceptional talent. He then graduated from Valhalla with honors and immediately became a knight of the Draker Household.

In his past life, Andre had gained enlightenment in his early thirties and became a Red Knight.

The crimson aura that enveloped his blade resembled a glaring eye, earning him the title “Knight of Crimson Eyes.”

‘To assign a household knight as an instructor for basic training…’

This was a clear indicator of how much effort the Draker Household invested into the Special Class.

Andre stood before the students and spoke as soon as he arrived.

“Draw your swords.”

Despite his youthful and mild appearance, his voice carried an undeniable weight of authority.

The students obediently unsheathed their swords.

Then Andre’s gaze fixed on something.

“Cadet. What is that sword?”

Andre pointed at Zeke’s weapon.

Zeke casually spun his claymore and replied.

“As you can see, it’s a sword.”

Andre’s eyes narrowed as he responded.

“Step forward.”

The atmosphere in the training grounds instantly grew heavy.

Zeke stepped forward, holding his claymore, and stood in front of the group.

Looking down at Zeke, Andre spoke.

“Do you not understand what I mean?”

Andre’s commanding tone began to spark irritation in Zeke.

‘This guy, with every word he says…’

At that moment, a message appeared.

[Skill: Unyielding Mental Defense has been activated.]

Thanks to the skill’s influence, Zeke felt his anger subside, and his mind became calm.

‘Alright, since it’s come to this…’

Meeting Andre’s eyes directly, Zeke spoke.

“I called a sword a sword. What’s wrong with that?”

For a moment, every cadet in the training grounds felt their skin prickle.

Though faint, the killing intent of a Blue Knight spread across the entire grounds.

Zeke clicked his tongue internally as he observed Andre.

‘Still unpolished. Letting himself be provoked by a mere comment from a kid…’

In real combat, enemy provocations were commonplace.

No matter how skilled a knight might be, losing composure and failing to demonstrate their ability could result in losing their life to a lesser-ranked knight.

Andre slowly unsheathed his sword and addressed Zeke.

“Cadet. If your blade so much as grazes me, I’ll forgive your earlier rudeness and exempt you from the basic lessons.”

Zeke was startled by his words.

‘Exempt me from lessons?’

For Zeke, it was an appealing proposal.

The Dragonslaying Art basic course was of little value to him, as his training in the Ether Hall was far more urgent.

‘Not to mention, I spent over two years stuck in that basic course.’

Having failed to receive the Blessing of Aura during the Blessing Ceremony, Zeke had to train in a course that others completed in three months for over two years.

While Zeke felt inwardly pleased by the offer, Andre raised his sword and took a stance.

“I won’t use Aura. Come at me.”

Zeke gripped his claymore and assumed a stance as well.

‘So, he won’t use Aura.’

A combat plan quickly unfolded in Zeke’s mind.

[Skill: Combat Instinct has been activated.]

Thanks to the skill, his senses sharpened and his perception grew keener.

“Here I go.”

Zeke moved swiftly, closing the distance in an instant.

His sword aimed straight for Andre’s side.

Clang!

Andre lightly deflected Zeke’s blade.

Zeke immediately spun his body, swinging his sword again.

Whoosh!

The full-force swing of the claymore collided with Andre’s sword.

Clang!

Andre effortlessly deflected the heavy claymore with a light flick of his blade.

Zeke’s fierce attacks were rendered useless by Andre’s casual parries.

The Special Class cadets watching were awestruck by Andre’s movements.

‘As expected of a knight from the main household.’

But there was one person among them who thought differently—Reina Turunn.

‘Even without Aura, how is he able to exchange this many moves with a knight from the household?’

Meanwhile, Andre’s expression grew increasingly stern as he blocked Zeke’s strikes.

‘This kid… What’s going on here?’

Initially, Andre had planned to use Zeke as an example, reprimanding him for his strange sword and asserting dominance over the Special Class students.

He thought a few displays of killing intent would make Zeke tremble in fear.

Instead, Zeke met his pressure head-on, which only aggravated Andre further.

Andre had planned to discipline Zeke with a harsh lesson, but things were starting to go awry.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, Zeke’s sword struck from a blind spot.

Clang!

Andre swung his blade to block Zeke’s attack and deflected it to the side.

The strength behind the strike was unbelievable for a thirteen-year-old.

Andre had initially assumed Zeke would tire out after a few exchanges. However, not only was Zeke far from exhausted, but his movements became even sharper as he swung his sword energetically.

‘If I don’t use Aura, I might be the one to tire first.’

As talented as Andre was—talented enough to bear the Draker name—his one weakness was his poor stamina.

Because of his exceptional skills, his duels rarely lasted long, so stamina had never been a pressing issue.

But in real combat, endurance often proved more critical than swordsmanship itself.

Zeke, with his extensive experience from his past life, quickly identified this weakness.

‘These young knights raised in greenhouses, who’ve only practiced swordsmanship, are so predictable.’

Had Andre used Aura, things might have been different, but since he had decided to rely solely on swordsmanship, Zeke saw this as the perfect opportunity.

With his passive skill Endless Stamina, Zeke felt no fatigue, allowing him to swing his sword freely.

Whoosh!

Zeke intentionally swung his sword unpredictably—left and right, up and down—forcing Andre to waste energy defending against his erratic attacks.

If Andre had countered Zeke’s strikes head-on rather than relying on advanced deflection techniques, he might have conserved his stamina better.

But Andre’s arrogance, born from his intent to “educate” the cadet, led to this miscalculation and ultimately backfired.

Clang!

Suddenly, Andre’s deflection technique faltered slightly as he blocked Zeke’s claymore.

Zeke instantly realized Andre’s stamina had significantly diminished.

‘Time to taste the bitterness of life, you pampered flower.’

Mocking Andre inwardly, Zeke dashed forward using a quickstep maneuver while activating the skill Critical Strike.

Whoosh!

Zeke’s strength, combined with the acceleration from quickstep and the power of Critical Strike, all converged into his claymore.

Andre sensed the weight behind the attack.

‘This is dangerous.’

In a split-second decision, Andre stepped back, sheathed his sword, and simultaneously stepped forward to perform a draw slash.

Zeke recognized the movement instantly.

‘The first stance of the Dragonslaying Art, Sky Cleave.’

Though it was the most basic move in the Dragonslaying Art, when executed by a Blue Knight, its power was on a completely different level.

Boom!

The clash of their swords produced a thunderous explosion.

The cadets widened their eyes, eager to see the outcome of the duel.

“Ugh…”

Zeke, gripping his claymore tightly, staggered backward from the impact.

Blood trickled slightly from Zeke’s lips.

In contrast, Andre stood firm in his stance, gripping his sword.

Anyone could see it was Zeke’s loss.

Andre straightened his posture, sheathed his sword, and turned away, speaking in a low voice.

“Cadet… you don’t need to attend this class starting tomorrow.”

Upon hearing Andre’s words, Zeke collapsed onto the ground.

The medics waiting nearby quickly placed him on a stretcher and carried him out.

The other cadets, who had been watching the duel, swallowed nervously.

Andre turned to look at the cadets and spoke.

“Is there anyone else here who doesn’t want to continue attending this class?”

Not a single hand was raised.

Andre’s voice carried even more weight as he continued.

“Raise your swords. Starting today, you will devote yourselves to becoming true knights of the Draker Household.”

Thus began the basics of the Dragonslaying Art.

* * *

The medics carried Zeke to the infirmary on a stretcher.

As one of the medics prepared a combination of healing potions and moved to insert an IV into the back of Zeke’s hand, he suddenly grabbed their wrist.

“No need. I don’t need the potion.”

To their astonishment, Zeke, who had fainted while bleeding, was now sitting up, looking completely fine.

The medic attempted to lay him back down in concern.

“You must have internal injuries. If you don’t rest, you’ll suffer serious complications later.”

Although Zeke had no injuries, there was no way to explain this without raising suspicion. He lay down quietly and allowed them to administer the potion.

The Healing Factor he possessed rendered even the highest-grade potions useless, but since it was the Draker Household’s money paying for it, he decided not to argue.

As he lay there, he replayed the duel in his mind.

‘Well, I suppose that was a decent performance.’

In the final moments, Andre had broken his earlier promise and used Aura.

The Draker Household’s Aura training methods were notoriously intense.

They trained to maintain Aura constantly—whether eating, sleeping, or performing everyday tasks.

As a result, using Aura became as natural to them as breathing.

Andre, too, had been consciously refraining from using Aura, but when blocking Zeke’s final strike, he had unconsciously resorted to it.

Although Zeke hadn’t managed to graze Andre’s clothes, the fact that he had forced a Blue Knight to use Aura was enough to prove his skill. And since Zeke had ultimately collapsed, Andre avoided humiliation in front of the cadets.

It was a sparring match where neither lost face—a scenario Zeke had deliberately orchestrated.

Now, with the extra free time he’d secured, Zeke began pondering how to use it effectively.

That was when it happened.

“Well, isn’t this interesting.”

Startled, Zeke flinched.

‘There wasn’t a hint of movement…’

He quickly sat up and scanned the direction of the voice with a wary look.

Gulp, gulp!

A man with a scruffy beard was drinking a concoction of pure alcohol and potion used for disinfecting wounds. He downed it all at once, then wiped his mouth with satisfaction.

“Ahh… That burns nicely. As expected, top-grade potions have a different taste.”

The man, still holding the potion bottle, turned to Zeke and started speaking.

“Hey, kid. How’d you pull that off earlier?”

Zeke narrowed his eyes and asked cautiously, “What are you talking about?”

The man raised the bottle and tipped it back, draining the last drop before smacking his lips in disappointment.

“Come on, don’t play dumb, kid. I’m talking about earlier. You took an internal hit, didn’t you?”

For a moment, Zeke froze.

“How the hell did you recover instantly after taking a direct Aura strike?”