ASCC-Chapter 81 Just to Embarrass the Swordsman

The door of the Ayatsuji dojo was nearly rotting, looking as if it could collapse at any moment.

Squatting near the entrance, two or three students from Donrou Academy loitered, cigarettes glowing between their fingers. The tiny embers flickered in the dark, occasionally punctuated by bursts of crude laughter.

These were the same thugs who had caused a scene at the family restaurant earlier.

It seemed they had already forgotten the humiliation they suffered barely an hour ago and were back to their usual antics.

"Hey, you lowlifes."

Ryoji stepped forward, his expression as warm as ever.

"Gaah… ugh—!"

The delinquents instinctively flinched at the insult.

Then, as soon as they recognized Ryoji's face, all three of them stiffened—like rabbits caught in a predator's gaze. Cold sweat ran down their backs as they shrank away in fear.

"Take me to Kurashiki Kuraudo."

Ryoji advanced with a leisurely stride, a disarming smile on his face.

"You all seem like nice guys. Surely, you wouldn't refuse to help, right?"

One of them had a tattoo. Another was bald. The last wore brass knuckles. But at that moment, all three of them forced friendly smiles, desperately trying to appear cooperative.

If they weren't friendly, well… Ryoji would make them friendly.

"Ugh!"

"Y-you can go right in!"

Panicked, the group quickly stepped aside, gesturing toward the dojo.

"I-I'll go let Kuraudo know!"

One of them bolted toward the main building, eager to put some distance between himself and Ryoji.

Ryoji didn't stop him. With Totokubara Kanata and Ayatsuji Ayase by his side, he strode confidently toward the central hall, the eyes of Donrou Academy's students trailing them in silent fear.

They had seen what Ryoji was capable of against Kurashiki Kuraudo. They also knew his connections—his powerful background, Kanata's strength. None of them were foolish enough to stand in their way.

Inside the dojo.

Kurashiki Kuraudo sat sprawled on a worn-out sofa that had been dragged in from outside. His eyes drifted lazily toward the ceiling as he exhaled a thin stream of cigarette smoke, sighing in boredom.

He had dismissed his usual lackeys. Right now, he was deep in thought.

"A swordsman that strong, yet unwilling to fight… how boring."

Kurashiki Kuraudo was thinking.

Thinking about how to force Nangou Ryoji into a duel.

Two years ago, he had crushed all of Ayatsuji Kaito's disciples, humiliating them until they abandoned kendo altogether. That had left Ayatsuji Kaito with no choice but to fight him.

But that trick wouldn't work this time.

If Ryoji truly was a disciple of the God of War—or worse, a direct descendant—then he wouldn't just be strong himself. He would be surrounded by terrifying Blazers.

The Yaksha Princess was one thing, but Raikiri and Scharlach Frau were monsters in their own right. None of them were opponents he could afford to provoke carelessly.

"Man, if Donrou Academy had a battle selection system like Bukyoku and Hagun, every day would be more exciting..."

The Battle Selection system had first been introduced at Bukyoku Academy.

That was how Bukyoku had dominated the top three spots in the Seven Stars Sword-Art Festival for five years straight. Their school valued merit above all else, while others still relied too much on rankings and official levels.

When Shinguuji Kurono became director of Hagun Academy, she had merely followed the precedent set by Bukyoku—implementing the same system to reshape the academy's competitive structure.

"Kuraudo, um…"

"Tch. Didn't I say not to bother me when I'm thinking?"

"I know, but… that guy we ran into earlier tonight is here. He's looking for you."

"...What?"

Kurashiki Kuraudo almost thought he had misheard.

Wasn't that guy supposed to be some rule-abiding model student? The type that avoided fights outside of official duels?

How long had it even been since their last encounter?

He hadn't even come up with a way to force Ryoji into a duel—yet the guy had already shown up on his own?

"Hahaha! What? Isn't this interesting?"

Kurashiki Kuraudo sprang up from the sofa, his shark-toothed grin widening in sheer excitement.

Just then—

"Squeak—!"

With a deep creak, the dojo's wooden door swung open, revealing three figures stepping inside.

He barely spared a glance at the two women. His eyes locked onto the young man at the center, his lips curling into a feral smirk.

Ayatsuji Ayase? Weak. She wasn't his match two years ago, and without any real progress, she wasn't worth considering now.

Scharlach Frau? Strong, but she wasn't a swordsman. Her power came from abilities that he had already figured out how to counter—fighting her would be meaningless.

No, what he craved was a duel with a true swordsman!

Kuraudo was hopelessly addicted to the thrill of battle—to the dance of blades, the rush of trading blows on the edge of death. Every clash made his heart pound faster. Every wound only fueled his fighting spirit, sending shivers of excitement down his spine.

"It seems you really are a swordsman—you just can't resist the joy of battle!"

Kuraudo's voice brimmed with reckless glee.

He gazed at Ryoji with a near-manic intensity. The more he studied him, the more he was certain—this was a real swordsman, a powerful one. And he needed to fight him.

But Ryoji met his eager stare with cold indifference.

"I don't care about you. I didn't come here for you."

His words were curt, dismissive.

"Actually, I find your actions disgusting. Don't act like we're the same."

"Ah?"

Kuraudo scoffed, unbothered.

"What's wrong with enjoying a fight? That's the fate of a swordsman, isn't it?"

"Whether you love fighting or not is your business—it has nothing to do with me."

Ryoji shrugged, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

"It's natural to want to test your skills against the strong. I feel the same way. But if someone isn't willing to fight, I'd rather learn from them and ask questions—not pull underhanded stunts like you. What you do is disgraceful for a swordsman."

"…Are you done?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's fight."

Kuraudo completely disregarded his words, his grin returning as he took a step forward.

"Fine by me."

Ryoji agreed without hesitation.

He never intended to lecture Kuraudo—just to express his disgust. He had always been the type to speak his mind, never one to hold back.

That said, he wasn't stupid. If he knew he couldn't win, he wouldn't waste his breath in the first place.

The students of Donrou Academy scrambled to clear the dojo, pushing aside any obstacles to make space for the duel.

Ryoji and Kuraudo faced each other from opposite sides of the hall, standing about ten meters apart.

This was a battle of real blades and raw skill.

Ryoji summoned his Device—his Vrring sword materializing in his grasp with a resonant hum.

Across from him, Kuraudo summoned Orochimaru, his signature bone katana.

Kanata stood in the corner, flipping open her student handbook to record the match.

Ayatsuji Ayase, still burning with hatred, stepped between them, raising her hand.

A tense silence fell over the dojo.

Then, with a sharp motion, she swung her arm down.

"Match start!"

(End of Chapter)

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