The Academy’s Ankle Reaper

Metios woke up in the middle of the night due to the loud thunder that slammed against his ears.

He wasn’t afraid of thunder or anything, so he wondered if it was raining outside and pulled back the curtains, but not a single drop of rain was falling.

Thinking perhaps there was a thunderclap in the dry sky, but that wasn’t the case either.

Thunder usually strikes down from the sky, but this thunder was echoing from the ground.

As soon as he looked out the window, Metios figured out who was creating this thunder.

It was the sound of his brother and father engaging in a life-and-death duel with true swords in the garden.

Both were wielding swords radiating a blue light, and every time the blades clashed, it sounded like thunder crashing.

The moonlight was barely visible, and it was a pitch-black night where he could hardly see an inch ahead, but the two figures were clearly illuminated by the flames they held.

—Kwarrrgh!!!

As Metios’s brother struck down with both hands on the sword, their father’s body bent at an angle and slammed into the ground.

She witnessed her father’s kneeling figure for the first time in her life.

It wasn’t over with just one strike.

Her smaller brother was attacking, while the much larger father, Cronos, was barely managing to parry the blows.

Cronos, rolling backward, stood up again but quickly crumpled to his knees and got knocked around, his body flying towards the sky.

Atlas, holding a pale flame in one hand, strode boldly towards their father.

The brother, who usually smiled kindly at him, had a monstrous expression on his face.

She had to stop her brother.

Feeling that something would definitely go wrong if she left him like that, Metios dashed out of the room.

————————

“… He made a deal with a demon?”

“Yes, brother.”

An ache had already begun pulsating in his head.

What a terrible thing it was to think that Cronos had made a deal with a demon.

“What I found out was… after inheriting the position of head of the family. I don’t know the exact details, but Father made some sort of deal with the Demon Church for you, brother.”

So that means the cause was, yet again, me.

It seemed he must have thought that as long as he paid a suitable price for the deal with the demon, anything could be achieved.

That’s the image of demons known in the world.

But if they were that capable, wouldn’t they already be ruling this world?

There was something strange about that statement.

If it was a deal related to my height, I should have seen the demon too, but I had never seen one here.

“But… the deal was not completed.”

“What do you mean?”

They made a deal with the demon, but it didn’t get executed? What on earth did that mean?

“The night Father made that decision, you ran away.”

So it was that day.

I remember that day clearly.

I remember all the emotions I felt, why I did what I did, and everything that happened.

After sizing things up for a while, I told Cronos I was leaving home, and Cronos got angry.

Feeling good about it, I drew my sword and attacked Cronos, and though he countered, he was defeated by me.

It wasn’t a rash act; I really thought I could win.

Until that moment, I had just been biding my time.

The reason I still vividly recall that moment is for many reasons, but the biggest reason is… I was definitely determined to kill him then.

I thought only of stabbing him in the heart or cutting his throat.

I can’t quite remember how I decided to kill him, but I was planning to do it.

But I never went through with it; there was a simple reason.

Metios, who was awakened by the sound of me fighting Cronos, stopped me.

At that time, I thought I should have killed him somehow, but… I couldn’t.

When I aimed to kill him in front of Metios, I hesitated.

“Brother, you didn’t see it leave, but… After that day, Father changed. He became very weak.”

I could hardly imagine that Cronos had grown weak.

“Is it because the target for his anger vanished, and he could find no one else to express his rage on?”

“That might be the case. But…”

Metios seemed to be holding back words he wanted to say.

What was it he meant to say?

Before, Metios had mentioned that Cronos loved me.

Did Cronos, before dying, have a change of heart?

There must be something.

A lot must have happened in the ten years that elapsed since I ran away to come here.

I was curious, but I also told myself not to get tangled up in that past anymore.

“But… it seems so. Father’s coffin was empty, and brother, you saw someone who had his face. This isn’t something we can just overlook as the head of the family.”

Though I said that, there was little she could do besides telling the intelligence department to look into it.

In the end, it was something I had to resolve.

The person with Cronos’s face wasn’t just wandering around either.

He was someone who infiltrated the core of the Demon Church.

For everyone’s sake, that person must be found and killed again as soon as possible.

Metios blankly stared at my burning records before speaking to me.

“Brother, I have one request.”

“Another request?”

“If you dislike requests, I can order you instead.”

Suddenly making it sound like an order; I wondered what uncomfortable task he wanted me to do. I hoped it wouldn’t be anything too serious.

But what Metios said was something I had never imagined.

“Please teach me how to wield a sword.”

————————

In the dark night, Count Anemoi, residing in the annex, clutched his throbbing head.

There was a simple reason.

His only son, Herbert Anemoi, was attacked by a bear and was battered, but his recovery was rather slow.

If it were just ordinary wounds, he would heal quickly, but it was as if his insides had been attacked, making recovery very difficult.

Seeing his only heir suffering like this, Bruce Anemoi’s heart felt like it was being ripped apart.

“Goodness… it seems he’s still not in good shape.”

“If you’re going to say something ridiculous, step aside. I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

He wasn’t alone.

There was another man sitting in front of him.

His wild, dark brown hair and sharp eyes seemed to penetrate into his prey.

Dressed entirely in leather, he looked like he could smell like a beast from a distance.

He was Walter Oneiroi, the viscount managing the territory next to Narni.

Though they were sharing the same table at Blade Mountain, he was still a lesser being compared to other nobles.

After all, he was just a viscount, and that title came from being the most loyal vassal of the Titan, crawling on the ground to earn that position.

“No matter how much your son claims responsibility for this, ultimately, it’s an incident that happened here. We must hold the Titan accountable.”

At Oneiroi’s words, Anemoi perked up.

It was puzzling, but given that Oneiroi had been born as the hunting dog of the Titan, why he would come here to curse at… or rather, her was unclear, but it felt good that he was speaking out against her too.

Very suspicious, though.

“The Titan’s hunting dog… do you plan to bite your master?”

“My master? That weak girl isn’t my master.”

“Even if she seems small, she’s still a Titan. You asking to bite into the barriers that have been built over so long seems unlikely.”

“It’s just hidden behind Russell and Nemea.”

Russell is a distant cousin of the Titan’s ancestor.

Though he’s quite a reticent person who doesn’t show much, he has always supported the Titan’s family.

Despite being wobbly ever since the head changed, he would eventually tend to cover for the young head of the Titan structure.

Nemea, who shares blood with the Titan, would probably act similarly.

The current head of the Titan has blood from Nemea, so we should view this as a firm alliance from the beginning.

However, whether those two support the head or whether they plan to keep her in their shadows remains uncertain.

What’s precious is precious, but whether that young boy is suitable to lead them as a lord above them is another story.

“Then shouldn’t the four of us gather?”

“Why would you think the two high nobles would unite, and not consider joining them?”

Bruce Anemoi tested him with a glance.

If it’s the Titan and Russell, they are the Marquess and Count.

Just with those two, they can overpower all five families and run the mountain as they wish, suppressing any dissenting opinions.

Then wouldn’t it be easier to stand quietly on their side rather than muddling together weak counts?

“Then… it would be no different from how things are now. You don’t actually like being under the current oppressive regime, do you, Count?”

Oneiroi provoked more fundamental emotions.

As he said, until now, every decision in the Blade Mountain was made solely by the Titan.

Occasionally they would reach a consensus with Russell, but most of the time, it was all run by these two giants’ whims.

It was extremely unreasonable, and there were often complaints, but the Titan never paid any mind.

Even harsh suppression ultimately led to people acting as the tyrant chose.

There probably isn’t a family in Blade Mountain without complaints against the Titan.

“Let us all be honest. You all thought the chance to breathe free came when Lord Cronos died, right? I feel the same. I believe that the current Titan holds far too much power. It’s time we adjust things through this meeting.”

“So the hunting dog wasn’t just a hunting dog, but a fox. You wish to increase your voice without provoking the other families?”

Oneiroi pulled out an envelope from his breast pocket.

“When you live as a hunting dog, you end up seeing things you don’t want to.”