30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 65

As everyone knows, the ones typically anticipated to shine on the last day of the semester evaluation aren’t the first-year students.

It’s the second- and third-years.

These are the seasoned warriors who have honed their fighting techniques and pushed their capabilities to the limit.

It was natural for crowds to gather to witness their performances.

That’s why, during the evaluation time for the first-year students, the number of spectators was generally quite small.

After all, who would want to watch those barely capable of putting on a decent fight?

But now,

A substantial crowd had gathered, and rather than dwindling, their numbers kept growing.

Among them were many ordinary citizens, but the number of nobles wasn’t insignificant either.

What purpose could there be for so many people to gather?

“...He’s coming out.”

“That young man? Wow, he’s even more handsome than the rumors said.”

“Lord Roen!”

“Glory to the valiant lion!”

“[May Lionel live forever! Glory to the brave lion of the kingdom!]”

[Waaaaa!]

Yes, so many had gathered just to see the face of one man.

The name they shouted reverberated through the air.

The Guardian of the North.

The Glorious Black Lion.

The kingdom’s eternal ally and comrade.

With one voice, people cheered for the lion most expected in this era.

Hoping he would deliver a holy duel worthy of his esteemed bloodline.

Expectations, cheers, and fervent longing—

These intangible emotions surged like a force. To anyone facing such a scene, it would be dizzying.

But the black-haired man standing in the center of the coliseum—

Roen looked only at the opponent he was to face.

With eyes as resolute as ice.

“It feels like I’m a clown.”

Roen muttered to himself, revealing a low scoff.

Truthfully, he didn’t find this particularly enjoyable.

Displaying his skills so openly before others wasn’t exactly a wise move.

But.

—If you’re going to do it, give it your best. Don’t treat it like a game.

...Just the other day, his master had gathered all the cadets and offered them words of encouragement, appearing somewhat weary and drained.

If they were to do this, he said, then do it right, and while they’re at it, take care not to get hurt.

It was a strange statement, really.

To say “give it your all” and then “don’t get hurt.”

Perhaps he truly cared about them that much.

However, Roen couldn’t shake the feeling that the warning to avoid injuries was for the other cadets, while the remark about “giving it your all” was directed at him.

As if he saw right through him.

‘I hadn’t planned on participating at all.’

He’d been full of intentions to opt out.

He didn’t see much point in joining in this spectacle.

But here Roen was, standing in this place.

Right, as if a debtor could refuse an order.

‘I may not fully clear my debt from back then with this, but I’ll show you.’

The best I’ve got.

[GRRR-!]

Roen slowly lowered his well-sharpened longsword.

Instead of assuming a defensive stance, his body seemed almost lax, as if he’d gone limp.

To an onlooker, it might appear as if he were being frivolous, but those with a keen eye widened theirs.

Despite his loose posture, there was no opening.

“You should know that even this is a generous fate for you, you detestable beast.”

[GRR?]

The Stone Troll, devoid of rationality, didn’t understand the meaning behind Roen’s words.

All it knew was its instinct to hit and smash its opponent.

The Stone Troll lunged at Roen, who showed no intent to dodge.

Just as it had done when fighting Barry moments before, it charged forward without restraint.

But then.

“Why isn’t he moving?”

“Oh no!?”

The crowd was bewildered.

The beast was closing in, yet he neither defended nor assumed an offensive stance.

And just before they could scream out—

“Sword Aura. That’s what I’ve named it.”

Shing!

For a brief moment, the blade gleamed.

It wasn’t a metaphor; everyone watching saw it.

They saw light flickering from his blade.

And in the next instant—

Crash!

Crack...!

[GR━...R....]

Thud...!

The Stone Troll fell without even managing a proper death cry, its functions ceasing on the spot.

It was an anticlimactic yet dreamlike spectacle.

“What...?!”

The crowd was left wondering what had happened, and after five seconds of stunned silence, they finally noticed.

The Stone Troll’s head, heart, and abdomen were pierced precisely.

Three wounds appeared as if out of nowhere.

Seeing this, silence threatened to fall again, but even more astonishing—

“What the hell is that?”

“...My god.”

“.......”

“W-what was that just now? Was that aura?”

“No way! A genius with aura at that age?”

“N-no, it’s not aura. It’s not, but what the hell was that...?”

The crowd split into three main reactions.

One was mere admiration, without understanding what had happened.

The skilled swordsmen were thrown into confusion, unable to comprehend the power resembling aura they’d just witnessed.

And the last group—

“He mixed sword resonance with a physical manifestation of energy.”

“It wasn’t just two techniques combined. It seemed like he blended quick-sword style, transformative style, and illusion-sword style. And he used energy to cover any deficiencies... I can’t manage anything like that.”

“He’s strong. Seriously strong!”

Only a very few talented swordsmen recognized what he’d done.

Those confident in their skills gradually understood the true nature of Roen’s sword aura.

Using the sword’s resonance with the swordsman to maximize the destructive power of each strike—a phenomenon known as “Sword Resonance,” and the ability to physically manifest energy—a feat only a true master of fighting techniques could achieve.

After activating these two, he released three techniques—quick-sword style, transformative style, and illusion-sword style—simultaneously in one strike.

It might sound simple like this, but it was a technique beyond comprehension.

Sword resonance and physical manifestation of energy both required an incredibly high level of focus.

And to simultaneously use energy as a supplement and execute three techniques in one go...

It was like writing with two different hands while playing the harmonica.

What does that mean?

It simply meant he’d done the impossible.

And this was a realm of pure talent, far beyond mere skill or hard work.

A distinct level of mastery, perhaps best named the Sword Aura Duelist.