Journey to Become the Zenith

Chapter 137: When the Blade Steps Forward

When the Blade Steps Forward

Lane, who had been silently observing from the distant rooftop, narrowed her eyes as she read the lips of the nobles gathered at the academy’s front gate. The wind brushed against her long black hair, her figure perfectly still, blending into the shadow of the structure beneath her feet.

She had chosen this position carefully—far enough that even trained eyes would struggle to detect her, yet close enough to observe everything clearly.

And yet—

Her expression shifted.

Just slightly.

Because the man named Shawn—

Had looked directly at her.

Not in her general direction.

Not vaguely.

Directly.

A faint tension ran through her body, her fingers curling ever so slightly.

...He saw me.

That realization wasn’t loud, but it was sharp.

Clean.

Unsettling.

She had hidden her presence perfectly. Even her breathing had been controlled, her aura suppressed to the point of near absence. Anyone below would need absurd eyesight—or something more—to notice her.

And yet—

He did.

Lane’s gaze remained calm, but inside, her thoughts sharpened.

That man... he’s dangerous.

Below—

Max stood still, his old eyes watching Shawn with quiet interest.

He had also noticed the men positioned around the academy. Their placements were not random—they were deliberate, strategic.

But unlike Shawn—

Max had not been able to detect Lane.

That alone told him enough.

So even among the young... there are monsters like this now, Max thought faintly, a hint of admiration flickering beneath his calm exterior.

Behind Shawn, the nobles exchanged glances.

Relief.

That was the first thing they felt.

A subtle loosening of tension in their shoulders, a breath they didn’t realize they were holding finally escaping.

Because Shawn—

Had no interest in the weapon.

But that relief didn’t last cleanly.

Because beneath it—

Was something else.

Irritation.

Some of them frowned slightly.

Others masked it better.

To them—

Shawn’s words sounded less like indifference—

And more like judgment.

It was as if he had just told them—

Without saying it directly—

That they were nothing more than thieves scrambling over something that didn’t belong to them.

Still—

No one spoke.

No one dared.

Because his status—

Was not something any one of them could challenge.

"Is that so..." Max nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, accepting the answer without pressing further.

Shawn and his men moved to the side, their presence still heavy—but no longer at the center of the conflict.

And just like that—

The nobles returned to what they were doing.

Their focus snapped back to Max.

"Principal Max, there’s no need to prolong this," one of them said, stepping forward again, his tone more forceful now.

"Just bring her out," another added, impatience creeping into his voice. "This can still end peacefully."

A third spoke, quieter but sharper, "You’re protecting someone you shouldn’t. Think carefully."

They continued.

Pressing.

Pushing.

Trying to find a crack in the old man’s resolve.

They weren’t wary of what Shawn had said.

To them—

His remark about Videl not being helpless—

Meant only one thing.

Her swordsmanship.

And for that—

They had prepared.

They had numbers.

They had mages.

They had confidence.

More than enough—

Or so they believed.

As they spoke, as they argued, as they tried to corner Max into submission—

None of them noticed—

The shift.

Because the person they were talking about—

Had already made her decision.

From within the academy—

Videl stepped forward.

Each step steady.

Unhurried.

She had seen everything.

Heard enough.

And what she saw—

Stayed with her.

Max.

Standing alone.

Facing all of them.

Because of her.

A faint tightening in her chest.

This... is my problem.

She stopped just behind the gate for a moment, her fingers clenching slightly before relaxing again.

I can’t let him carry this.

Then—

She stepped out.

"Can all of you stop bothering the Principal."

Her voice cut cleanly through the noise.

Every head turned.

"I’m Videl," she said, her gaze steady, unwavering as it swept across the nobles. "The one you’re looking for."

For a split second—

Silence.

Then—

The atmosphere shifted.

Excitement.

Greed.

Relief.

Some of them almost smiled.

Others straightened, their eyes sharpening.

Luck—

Had just walked out to meet them.

They had been close to giving up for the day, planning to return tomorrow with a better strategy.

But now—

There was no need.

A noble stepped forward immediately, his expression controlled, his voice smooth—too smooth.

"Videl, master rank swordsman," he said, addressing her as if they were equals, though his eyes betrayed his intentions. "We came here because it was reported that you possess a stolen magic sword."

A slight pause.

"If you hand it over peacefully, we will pardon your crimes of theft."

His lips curved faintly.

"What say you?"

Behind him—

The guards shifted.

The advanced rank swordsmen and the mages stood ready.

But unlike the nobles—

They were not relaxed.

They were watching.

Carefully.

The atmosphere tightened.

Heavy.

Waiting.

Because unlike the nobles—

They understood what stood before them.

The swordsmen felt it first.

Just by looking at her.

The way she stood.

The way her weight was balanced.

The way her presence... didn’t waver.

It was wrong.

If we move... we die.

That thought came uninvited.

Instinctive.

Even without drawing her blade—

It felt like they were already within its reach.

The mages—

Felt something else.

Fear.

Because what stood before them—

Didn’t make sense.

A swordsman—

Should not have that kind of mana.

Swordsmen walked the path of the blade, sacrificing magical capacity to strengthen the body. Their spells were simple, supportive, meant to enhance physical combat—not overwhelm with raw power.

But Videl—

Was different.

The mana flowing from her—

Was dense.

Controlled.

Comparable to an intermediate rank mage.

That realization sent a quiet ripple through the group.

She’s not just a swordswoman...

She’s something else.

There were others like this.

Rare individuals who mastered both paths.

Shawn was one of them.

And now—

So was she.

The guards exchanged brief glances.

Unspoken understanding passing between them.

This—

Would not be simple.

Not at all.