Everyone Except Me I Chapter 85 : Omen (3)

Chapter 85: On (3)

In fact, despite the shortness of our acquaintance, Allen and I had sparred countless tis.

At the academy, the people he was close to were, at most, only Nana and Cecilia.

The only others he’d ford ties with recently were Third Prince Behad and Enbarso.

So it was perhaps natural that I was the only suitable opponent who might receive a request from him to spar during his personal ti.

‘Well, if you put it like that, I wasn’t exactly swimming in suitable opponents either.’

In my previous life around this ti I had run around in groups of a dozen or more kids.

No — maybe it was when I had been keeping to myself after the Dungeon Field Class incident and had just holed up in my dorm room.

‘Wait, co to think of it, I didn’t have a single friend in the sa dorm.’

I tried to wipe away the involuntary, hollow laugh forming on my face and swung the wooden sword in my hand once or twice through the air as if to check it.

Both its weight and its feel were subtle yet adequate.

Precisely because of that, it was easy enough to handle as I wished.

I pushed the wooden sword forward and assud the middle-stance as I always did.

There was no stance better for

to observe an opponent and react according to the situation.

“…….”

The story had veered off again, but the point I wanted to make was simple.

Allen and I both already knew each other’s techniques and habits inside out.

“Hmph!”

So I was surprised for the first ti because he had taken a stance I had never seen before, not the posture he always used against .

Second, I was surprised because that stance leaned toward offense rather than defense.

Third, I was surprised by the alien sensation I felt coming from him.

And finally, I was left only astonished when he aid at the right side of my face and launched a surprise strike.

‘This brat, no way….’

A surprise attack aid at the face was effective precisely because it was common.

So it wasn’t that I was shocked rely because Allen had targeted my face.

What startled

was that instead of aiming for the usual targets like the eye or jaw, he had aid exactly to graze the area between my cheek and ear.

The right facial area between cheek and ear.

In my previous life the place that had been marked by a deep, distinctive scar — the sort that they even noted on the wanted poster.

How deep the wound had been….

To put it plainly, I had hovered on the brink of death for several days back then.

That I had survived was nothing short of a miracle.

And as the price, no matter what I did until I died, I had never been able to erase that scar.

Neither divine power, nor magic, nor potions could remove it.

That was how severe the wound had been.

Perhaps that was why, when I realized I had returned to the past, that scar was the first place I had checked.

“…….”

If that spot was aid at, I certainly grew more flinching than when other places were targeted.

It was a mory carved into my mind and one of those habits I simply couldn’t fix no matter how I tried.

It wasn’t particularly surprising or strange that Allen had noticed this weakness of mine.

After fighting dozens upon dozens of tis, for better or worse, one inevitably learned an opponent’s habits and weaknesses.

What surprised

was that he, who always approached with such straightforward thods, had used an ambush.

What surprised

more was that he had launched the ambush by precisely targeting my weak spot.

‘He really had changed too much.’

Putting sentint aside, I tilted the blade and easily parried the incoming edge, letting it slide past.

I already knew Allen’s strength was trendous.

If I had tried to block head-on, either my wrist or my wooden sword would have been ruined.

Smack!

A loud sound rang loudly in my ears.

At that louder-than-usual noise, an involuntary hollow laugh and a grumble escaped .

“Wait, aren’t you shouting too loudly?” I said.

“You can’t go easy when it’s Lian!” he replied.

He answered to my remark and rushed

again.

The sense of pressure that ca at

ahead of the wooden sword felt like a boulder shot from a catapult.

“Hng!”

I didn’t step back; I actually charged forward.

To win, I had to deny him the space to swing properly.

So I tried to keep the swords engaged and control the situation, but….

“Guh!”

Unfortunately, he seed to have read that intention a step ahead of .

As the blades tangled, Allen quickly swung with all his might and sent

flying far away.

For a mont my body lifted into the air with a whoosh.

Cries of surprise echoed here and there around .

Fair enough — it was understandable.

I wasn’t slight; my build was far sturdier than average, so the visual impact must have been considerable.

“Hmph!”

Before my breath even scattered, a string of blows flew at .

The mont I landed, I had to move my hand quickly to deflect his blade and let it slide away.

A dull pain was already starting to throb in my wrist.

‘This is….’

Was it just , or not?

In only a few days his fighting habits, stance, mindset — even his strength — had changed so much I barely recognized him.

‘Of all things, why did his strength increase…?’

It was ridiculous, but there was no ti to snort a hollow laugh or complain as before.

He continued to press

toward the corner, assaulting

without giving

a mont’s rest.

If I slipped up I would keep getting pushed back until I fell out of bounds.

Or my wrist would shatter along with the wooden sword.

‘I get it now.’

Allen’s strategy was simple.

He didn’t care if I blocked.

If his attack landed, all the better.

He knew his strength exceeded mine, and even if I managed to parry, I would still be the one to lose ground.

That way, he ant to keep exhausting his opponent and drag the fight in a direction favorable to himself.

Then, at the decisive mont, he would land a critical blow and seize victory.

It was the thod often chosen by those who had great strength, stamina, and endurance, but also a cautious personality.

Simple and straightforward, yet all the more powerful and difficult to counter.

‘Well….’

If one’s strength, stamina, and endurance already far surpassed the opponent’s, it usually ant other aspects were ahead as well.

In a way, the tactic could look like dragging out sothing that could have ended quickly for no reason.

But cautious people were the kind who could even endure such waiting patiently.

And the swordsman Allen Amiel I had known until now was the sort who not only endured such waiting but even enjoyed it— a man as cautious as they ca.

‘Tch….’

Strength, stamina, endurance.

Those three were clearly his advantage over .

On the other hand, what I could confidently say I surpassed Allen in was experience.

And footwork.

Thanks to those two, I had won against Allen several tis in our past spars.

And this ti, as always, I held those two up as my weapons.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never seen footwork like that before….”

“But it’s quite….”

Ignoring the murmurs around , I focused.

Any mistake now would be like shoving my head straight into a tiger’s jaws.

“Whoo….”

“…….”

With tricky steps, I slipped in and out of his range, close enough to be caught, then gone again.

If he had been impulsive or hot-tempered, he might have lost his patience and lunged.

But this was Allen.

No way he would fall for such shallow tricks.

Especially after so many spars with .

So I moved quickly, already preparing my next step….

“Haaaah!”

“What?!”

It was then.

Like lava erupting, Allen suddenly let out a fierce shout and charged at .

His reckless rush, asuring nothing, left

not just surprised but flustered.

But apart from the surprise, my body reacted instinctively, swiftly.

The wooden sword, which I thought I had just swung randomly, struck his leg, his arm, and finally slashed down across his abdon in succession.

Smack! Crack-crack!

The vicious sounds rang in quick succession.

And yet Allen’s montum showed no sign of weakening.

It wasn’t that my strikes were shallow—his endurance and toughness were simply abnormal.

Bang!

He used his montum, shoulder-first, to slam into .

“Ugh!”

The impact was like being punched in the solar plexus with all one’s strength.

A groan tore from , and I staggered back several steps just to shake off the shock.

And Allen didn’t miss the perfect chance.

Smack!

“Kh…!”

Blocking his incoming strike was sheer luck.

Proof of it lay in my wooden sword, now broken in half, and my wrist, not just throbbing but aching sharply.

On top of that, my already staggering posture collapsed further, forcing

back as if I might fall.

Had Allen not stopped there, I would have been sent flying disgracefully.

“…Even after all that.”

But Allen only looked at

as if he couldn’t believe it.

Not as if the duel had been decided, but… as if he had lost the will to fight in an instant.

“All right, that’s enough.”

At that mont, a red-haired assistant, Revice, slipped in between us and spoke in a quiet, whispering tone.

Only a beat later did I realize she had stepped in.

“Fortunately, you didn’t get any more worked up. The duel is over, so go down now. The professor will give each of you advice.”

She looked at Allen sternly, her voice leaving no room for refusal.

Allen nodded, then approached —still crouched awkwardly— and bowed his head.

“It was a good duel. I’ve learned from it.”

“…Sa here. It was a good duel.”

With those words, Allen turned and walked down from the sparring stage.

Following after him, I silently watched his back.

‘Surely it can’t be just because of what I said that he changed this much.’

What on earth had happened?

What kind of change of heart had he gone through?

I didn’t know.

I truly didn’t know.

“…….”

I didn’t have the gift of seeing straight through soone’s mind like Tobrida of the Eight Demon Lords from old legends.

All I could do was hope that whatever change had co over Allen, it would flow in a good direction.

“…….”

But why was it?

The impulsive way he fell for such a shallow provocation.

The fierce, unhesitating way he charged despite taking hit after hit.

Those made

recall his tales and nicknas from my previous life.

Wrist Hunter — for cutting off both wrists of those he spared, after rcilessly cutting down those who picked fights with him.

Red Sword Fiend — for charging into enemies drenched in blood from head to toe.

Lunatic and Madman — for being utterly unpredictable in what he might do.

Pleasure Killer — for committing slaughter without restraint while always laughing and bursting into wild laughter.

‘And….’

Kinslayer.

At the word that surfaced reflexively, I shook my head as if to shake it out of my mind.

‘…Damn this overthinking.’

They called it being suspicious of shadows.

Once I started thinking, a small unease quickly snowballed into a dreadful conclusion.

It was one of my bad habits I could never fix.

‘It isn’t unusual for soone to change stance or style in class.’

Besides, since he had sparred with

so many tis, it wouldn’t be strange for him to try new things.

It was just needless worry…

Yes, just baseless suspicion born of overthinking.

― Creeeeak….

“…….”

…Yes, that was how it had to be.

To calm my restless heart, I just tapped lightly on the spider that had climbed onto my shoulder at so point.

My wrist still throbbed with pain.