The students stood frozen in collective awe, unable to tear their eyes away from the elegant, yet unmistakably imposing figure of Professor Lynn Dia Sinistar. Simply standing there, framed by the training hall's towering columns and flickering torchlight, she seemed less like a mere instructor and more like a force of nature.
And perhaps, in a sense, she was. One of only five Sword Saints across the continent, a title spoken in hushed reverence not just within the borders of the Vectis Empire, but in lands far beyond. Tales of her prowess were legend. She was a woman whose name had been etched into the annals of history, now standing here before a gaggle of fledgling swordsmen.
Then, she spoke, her voice thick with a foreign accent, yet still smooth as silk.
"Hmm... you two," she hummed, pointing at the pair she had just sparred against. "Tell me your names."
It took Kain a second too long to realize she meant them. He blinked, snapped from his awestruck trance, and blurted in a flustered stammer.
"K-Kain Diadalin, Professor!"
Despite her usual composure, Rosalina felt her heart beating like a drum. She offered a respectful bow, her voice steady but breathless. Partially from the spar. Mostly because of her.
"Rosalina Sigurdia. It... it was an honor to cross swords with you, Professor Lynn."
Lynn's lips curled into a small, amused smile.
"How precious. Kain and Rosalina. I recognize those names."
Kain flinched.
"You... You do?"
"Of course. They were on the list of the students who survived the full week in the Headmistress's idea of a test. The Erinel Forest... Quite brutal, I must say. Alas, I shall remember you, and by the end of this semester, I will determine whether or not those names are worth etching into my memory."
She strode past them with the grace of a dancer and the presence of a hunter. Kain and Rosalina exchanged wide-eyed glances, their faces stretched between disbelief and giddy exhilaration. Neither dared to speak. The shared, silent thrill between them was enough.
Then, Lynn addressed the room.
"Now then, I imagine many of you arrived here today burdened with a certain... expectation. You've heard the name, I'm sure. The title of Sword Saint. You think you know what that means."
She paced slowly across the front of the hall, the click of her heels on stone ringing like a countdown.
"Allow to dispel such illusions now. Here, within the walls of Rhodeia, I am not a hero of legend. I am not a figure for your ballads or bedtime tales. I am simply Lynn Dia Sinistar, your professor."
She leaned against a barrel and raised a slender finger.
"And you? You are neither nobles nor commoners, neither prodigies nor wastrels. To me, you are all the same. Students. Unskilled, unrefined, and completely naïve."
The room tensed with not a single person daring to avert their gaze.
"But!"
She clapped her hands together, a sharp sound that broke the tension like glass.
"Worry not, my fledglings. For as long as you remain under my tutelage, you will learn. You will bleed. You will suffer. And in time, you will rise as something greater. Or... you will fall. It matters very little to me, for I accept only the worthy."
She spun on her heel, facing the assembled class, her smile both dazzling and vaguely sinister.
"Am I understood?"
The room erupted in unison, the shout trembling through the stone walls.
"Yes, Professor!"
Lynn could hardly contain the involuntary tug at the edge of her lips.
"Hehe~ Wonderful. I do so love a class with spirit. Now then..."
She stepped away from the barrel she'd been leaning against, twirling her sheathed blade with casual grace. The warmth in her gaze vanished, and in its place was a cold line of conviction sharp enough to cut stone.
"All of you. Draw your swords."
For a moment, silence. The students hesitated, exchanging uneasy, bewildered looks. A low ripple of uncertainty spread through the crowd, and not a soul moved save for a handful of exceptions.
Without hesitation, Kain and Rosalina stepped forward in unison, the ring of steel leaving their scabbards echoing cleanly through the room. Neither questioned nor faltered. At Lynn's command, they obeyed and caught the glimmer of approval in their professor's glacial eyes.
"I see that some of you are better at following instructions than others."
Slowly, in uneven clusters, the rest of the students followed suit. Blades scraped and clinked out of their sheaths, but the collective hesitation had already been noted. Lynn's faith in their potential dimmed before it could even flicker.
"Good. Now, strike at me."
"W-what?" A student blubbered.
"You heard me right," she affirmed, raising her arms out like an invitation. "I want all fifty of you to strike at me at the same time. Cut me down. Rush in by yourself, or work together as a team. The choice is yours."
Seeing their reluctance, Lynn's voice dropped.
"It seems that I was not clear. Your fate in this class will be determined by what you show me here. Failure to participate will result in an immediate expulsion. If you lack the courage to lift your sword against me, then you have no place here."
The threat was delivered with no malice. It was simply a fact.
Another long moment passed... until finally, one of the young men in the crowd swaggered forward.
He wore his confidence like armor, but it would offer no protection. His steps were far too casual, and his grip on his sword was undeniably loose.
"You," Lynn said. "Tell me your name."
"Me? I'm Lionel Valderez, the heir of House Valderez."
"...I see. And how old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"Hmm... Alright then. Come."
Lionel readied himself. Everything about him, from his form to his attitude, made it clear to Lynn that he was not worthy. Perhaps not yet, but she had little faith.
So, she resolved to make a statement out of him.
The moment he lunged, Lynn saw through him.
His movement was clumsy, telegraphed from the second his foot left the ground. He raised his blade overhead in a predictable arc, a strike so basic it felt like an insult.
With the ease of swatting away a leaf, Lynn lifted her sheathed sword and blocked it.
"Well, that's that," Lionel scoffed. "How could I ever hope to land a hit against Lynn Dia—"
In a flash, Lynn drove the butt of her scabbard into his stomach. The impact stole the air from his lungs. He stumbled back, doubling over, but before he could regain his footing, her leg swept beneath him in one fluid motion.
He hit the floor with a clatter.
"A-ack!" he yelped, reaching for his sword.
Too late. The cold tip of Lynn's scabbard pressed beneath his chin, forcing his head up.
And there it was, the shift in the room's atmosphere. Gone was the soft, polite professor with her easy smile and gentle voice. Though her lips still curled in that familiar shape, a shadow loomed behind her expression. A dark, dangerous glint in her eyes that sent a chill through every student watching.
"Slow. Sloppy. Careless. Your footwork was timid. It felt more like you were retreating rather than attacking. Your swordplay was laughably forced, and you moved as though you were performing for a circus, not fighting for your life. Not to mention that your attitude... was unbearably hideous. In fact, I was quite offended that you would treat me, your opponent, like a joke."
"W-what?" Lionel gasped, his face drained of color. "There must be some kind of misunderstanding, Professor! I didn't mean to—"
"Silence. Your professor is speaking."
Lynn refused to allow him even the chance to explain himself. Not that an explanation was warranted, for she had already seen everything she needed to see.
"Lionel Valderez, the heir of House Valderez. Is that where your confidence comes from? Is that all where your power lies? In the name of your house? A mere title?"
Lionel's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
"Had we met like this on the battlefield, child, your head would've been severed before you could even utter that name. You are arrogant, undisciplined, and dangerously incompetent. I see no evidence of training in you. Only a fool's pride."
"T-that's not true at all!" he cried out. "If you would allow me another chance, I will prove myself to you! I swear!"
"A second chance... Has this world ever been kind enough to offer the fallen a second chance? Short answer: no. It hasn't. Not on the battlefield. Not in life. And certainly not in my class. Therefore, gracious heir of House Valderez... you are hereby expelled from my class."
"What?! P-Professor! Please, reconsider!"
"I will not. My class is an introduction to the Zephyr Sword. It is a discipline I myself forged from years of hardship and perfected on bloodied soil. It assumes its practitioners already have a grasp of the basics, and that is the bare minimum. You, however... can't even hold a sword properly. That much, I can tell."
Lionel's head sagged. His face was a mask of devastation, his pride in tatters.
The room held its breath. No one moved. No one spoke. The lesson had been made perfectly clear.
Rhodeia was merciless. And Lynn Dia Sinistar, even more so.
At last, she turned back to the trembling crowd of students. This time, her smile was truly gone.
"Now then... Who's next?"