Mesugaki Tank Enters The Academy-Chapter 329: Penalty Time (3)

The Kent family had a long and storied history.

It was a family founded by an unnamed man who, during an era of chaos when an evil god attempted to bring ruin to this land, rose to prominence through his sword skills. Over the centuries, the Kent family had trained in swordsmanship, earning their reputation as masters of the blade.

Their territory was steeped in the culture of the sword—dojos where swordsmanship was taught, forges where swords were crafted, and shops catering to those dedicated to training. This place, iconic for anyone involved in swordsmanship, looked almost identical to how I remembered it from the game. This meant that likely, every setting and story element here would match the game as well.

“...I hate teleportation,” Frey mumbled as she stumbled out of the portal beside me.

Usually indifferent, even Frey seemed to struggle with the nausea. ‘A little rest might—’

“Having trouble already, Frey Sister? You really are weak. What’ll you do? I could let you rest if you asked me nicely.”

“...No, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Though swaying slightly, Frey pressed on, leading me through the streets.

‘Hey, Frey Sister...’

“I still haven’t heard what you plan to make me do. Don’t tell me you’re too dumb to remember what you wanted?”

So, what’s she planning to do with me at the Kent estate?

If it were anyone else, I’d try to predict it based on the game’s settings, but Frey’s a wildcard. Even a veteran like me has no idea what’s going on in her head.

“Sparring.”

‘...Sorry?’

“What?”

“We’re going to spar.”

Spar? She dragged me all the way to her home to spar? Couldn’t we have done that at the Academy training grounds?

I tilted my head, unsure if she was joking, when suddenly the gates of the Kent estate came into view.

“Miss, who’s this by your side?”

The guard at the gate glanced at me nervously.

I shrugged, used to people being wary of me. Anything I said would only worsen things.

“This is Lucy, my friend.”

“Your... friend?”

“Yes, friend. Isn’t that right?”

‘Yes, Frey Sister.’

“If being ‘friends’ means she’s clinging onto me one-sidedly, then sure, I guess we’re friends.”

“Unbelievable! To think our young miss brought a friend to the estate, and willingly no less!”

His reaction wasn’t what I’d expected.

So, he wasn’t afraid of me after all? Just shocked because Frey was the one who dragged me here?

...Weird. Who hasn’t heard of the infamous Lucy?

“Please, wait right here! I’ll go report this heartwarming news to the master!”

The guard, dabbing at his eyes, ran off, and Frey lightly tapped my shoulder, snapping me out of my daze.

“Let’s go in.”

‘Didn’t he just tell us to wait? You didn’t understand that, Frey Sister?’

“It’s fine. There’s no problem.”

Despite my doubts, I couldn’t refuse her orders and allowed Frey to guide me inside.

“Oh, my lady! What brings you here? And this young lady beside you—wait, a friend? A friend?!”

“The master’s efforts have finally paid off! The young lady has brought a friend to the estate!”

“Lady Allen, please take care of our young miss!”

“Oh, how can we express our gratitude!”

The servants of the Kent family had an almost bizarre cheerfulness. Even when they heard my name, they didn’t cower but instead thanked me for changing their young lady.

Seeing this, I suddenly understood why Frey’s little sister had been so boisterous when I met her at the Pathran Festival. Growing up here, that behavior would seem normal.

“Frey Sister! When did you arrive? You should’ve told me you were coming! And who’s this...”

Oh, no. Somehow, the estate’s loudest voice had sensed my presence.

Parna Kent.

Frey’s younger sister.

Unlike the stoic and silent Frey, Parna was a bubbly whirlwind, so loud that her lines in the game seemed to jump off the screen.

And now, in real life, she was even noisier, since I could hear her actual voice.

“...Are you Lady Allen?!”

‘Yes, that’s me.’

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s on a whole other level from you simpletons.”

“Woooow! She was already super gorgeous before, but now she’s even... even...”

Wow, she really has impressive lung capacity. Must be from her martial training.

“...Even more gorgeous! You’re like an angel from heaven! The goddess of beauty must be jealous of you!”

‘Thank you.’

“Is that something you need to yell about? A noble lady should show a bit more decorum. How pathetic.”

“Haha! People tell me that all the time, but I just can’t seem to change!”

She didn’t even flinch at the insult. It’s like she didn’t realize it was an insult.

...Wait, did she really not understand?

“Move aside. I’m busy.”

As I mused on it, Frey stepped in between me and Parna.

“Why?”

“I have something to do with my friend.”

“A friend! I can’t believe you said ‘friend’! I’m so moved!”

“Oh, Parna, I feel the same way!”

Adding to the chaos, another loud voice rang out as Countess Kent, Frey’s mother, appeared behind Parna.

The countess, a woman who perfectly embodied the term “matronly,” stomped over and enveloped Frey in a bear hug with her muscular arms.

“Our dear Frey brought a friend home! Oh, I’m so happy I could cry!”

“Um, Mom? I...”

“Oh, how you’ve changed, my dear girl! I’m so proud of you!”

“But, um... I can’t breathe...”

Watching Frey’s face turn blue, I gave up on trying to make sense of the situation.

Anything I said would be drowned out by the uproar anyway.

<This reminds me of old Parun. What a dramatic fellow he was.>

‘That’s probably the Kent family founder.’

<Oh, really? The strength of blood is remarkable. To think his personality has endured for centuries.>

‘Then why haven’t I grown taller? Considering my father’s build, I should be much taller.’

<...Who knows? That might be a mystery only the gods know.>

I almost blurted out that it was probably because the Pathetic God was a depraved freak but managed to hold back. It wouldn’t do to speak ill of the gods in front of a devout elder.

The noise from Parna and the Countess only grew. After noticing that Frey had nearly passed out, they tearfully apologized, then turned their sights on me, almost suffocating me in gratitude for “changing” Frey.

The moment they heard me call her “Frey Sister,” they squealed with delight:

“Does that mean I can call you ‘Sister Lucy’? Or maybe even ‘Our Beautiful Sister Lucy’?”

“So that means my adorable and charming daughter is practically yours! Please, won’t you call me ‘Mama’?!”

I tried to interrupt them with the Mesugaki Skill’s biting insults, but the two of them seemed completely unaffected, twisting every harsh word into a compliment. In the end, Frey and I were finally freed when the Count Kent appeared.

It must not have been the first time this happened because he handled the situation swiftly and effectively. After sternly reprimanding both Parna and the Countess, he escorted them back inside, then turned to me with a bow.

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“My sincerest apologies, Lady Allen! Though they mean no harm, their rudeness is inexcusable. I apologize once more.”

Watching the count apologize for his family’s behavior made me think of Benedict. I wondered if he’d had to do the same whenever Lucy caused trouble.

‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’

“Right, there’s no need to mind. A sloppy leader for a sloppy family, wouldn’t you say?”

“Thank you so much for your understanding!”

How much chaos must his family have caused for this master swordsman to have such polished social skills?

...I should introduce him to Benedict sometime. I have a feeling they’d get along very well.

“Lady Allen, may I ask the purpose of your visit?”

‘Well, that’s...’

“Dragged along by Frey Sister here, so I don’t actually know myself, Sloppy Count.”

At my answer, the count’s eyes lingered on my face, then he slowly turned to Frey.

“...Frey? Is this true?”

“Yes. I brought Lucy here.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to watch you and Lucy spar.”

“...Excuse me?”

‘...What?’

Even though the count and I both stammered in shock, Frey remained unfazed.

“If I see you two spar, I think I’ll understand something. So, go ahead.”

“Uh, Frey? This isn’t a simple request.”

The count tried his best to dissuade her.

He explained that the difference in skill between him and me was too vast, that if I got hurt, it could cause serious problems, and that it might be better for him to spar with someone else while she watched.

‘I don’t mind.’

“What’s the matter, Sloppy Count? Are you afraid you’ll lose to me? I’m fine with it.”

Despite his concerns, I didn’t find Frey’s suggestion all that uncomfortable.

Thinking about it carefully, this was an opportunity I couldn’t turn down.

Though he showed a softer side with his family, the count was a completely different person with a sword in his hand. Even the Sword Saint couldn’t confidently claim superiority over him. He was a genius who’d refined the Kent family’s swordsmanship into a style of his own—a legendary swordsman known throughout the continent.

After facing Duke Burrow last time, I’d realized how much I still had to learn.

Why would I turn down a chance to face a true master?

“Lady Allen, even if you’re willing, I am not. If you were to be injured, I’d be a dead man when Benedict hears of it.”

The fear in the count’s voice as he mentioned Benedict was palpable.

This was a man known for his pride in his strength, and yet he was still wary of Benedict’s wrath. Just what kind of man had Benedict been on the battlefield?

While this only reinforced my respect for Benedict, it didn’t change my desire to spar with the count.

Besides, even if things went poorly, the count would be the one to take the fall, not me.

I don’t have to clean up the mess, so why should I worry about someone else’s problems?

“Oh, is the count such a coward that he can’t handle a little girl?♡ Are you just a third-rate swordsman afraid you might lose control?♡”

“...Lady Allen?”

“It’s fine♡ I get it♡ It’s not your fault if you’re just a scaredy-cat who doesn’t trust his own sword♡”

“...There are some things even the Lady Allen should not say.”

“Oh♡ It’s on you if you’re a pathetic father who can’t fulfill his own daughter’s request♡ Puhaha♡ Poor Frey, stuck with such a weakling for a father♡”

Watching his expression as I sneered, I felt certain that he would not back down.

Barely containing his rage, the count’s face was fierce enough to make a lesser person cry.

“Very well. Let’s spar.”

I knew it.

Seeing his lips pressed tightly together, I leisurely drew upon the divine energy within me.

Alright.

Let’s see just how far I can push myself.

Let’s give him a taste.

Against a swordsman so much stronger than me.