My Second Chance in Life in Another World

Chapter 77: DEFYING AUTHORITY

After finishing my meal and finding a possible way to secure that meeting with the principal, all I needed to do was follow through.

There was no point hesitating anymore. Thinking without acting wouldn’t save anyone. If I wanted answers—if I wanted to move forward—I had to put my plan into motion.

I left the cafeteria and headed toward my next destination: the training ground.

The sound reached me before the sight did. The rhythmic clashing of wooden swords, sharp commands barked by senior students, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground. When I arrived, the wide field was already bustling with activity. Swordsmanship students from different years were scattered across the grounds, paired off and sparring under the afternoon sun as if nothing in the world was wrong.

Here I was, facing the biggest problem of my life—my friends imprisoned, my future hanging by a thread—while for them, it was just another regular day of attending classes.

Life really is unfair.

Even in another world.

That bitter thought lingered in my mind as I walked forward, my steps slow and heavy. I headed toward my class’s usual spot at the corner of the training ground. It was far enough from the center to avoid interference, but close enough to observe the other sessions.

As I approached, I noticed my classmates were already gathered there.

But something felt off.

Instructor Gord was nowhere to be seen.

Normally, even when he was late, his booming voice could be heard from halfway across the field. Today, there was nothing. No shouting. No gruff instructions. Just silence.

Maybe he’s still dealing with the aftermath of the fighting ground incident, I thought. Just like Instructor Refu.

That alone would’ve been enough to put me on edge, but then I noticed something else.

No one was training.

Everyone was standing still.

They were all watching something.

Curious—and uneasy—I picked up my pace.

I was about to call out to Nyrinn, the green-haired girl from my class who usually stood near the front, when the scene in front of me finally came into full view.

And the moment I saw it, my blood boiled.

Beric was on the ground.

Beric—one of my classmates, the same guy who struggled with footwork drills and always laughed awkwardly when corrected—was being beaten mercilessly by Alad.

Alad stood over him, wooden sword raised high, bringing it down again and again with no restraint. Each strike landed with a sickening sound, forcing groans out of Beric’s throat as he tried—and failed—to block.

It wasn’t sparring.

It wasn’t training.

It was one-sided violence.

"What’s going on here?" I asked sharply, my voice cutting through the murmurs as I stepped up behind Nyrinn.

She flinched, clearly startled by my sudden appearance.

"Will...?" she said, then quickly turned back to the scene. Worry was written all over her face. "You don’t need to ask to figure it out. That Alad from the fifth year is thrashing Beric... all in the name of ’training.’"

Her voice carried a bitter edge when she said the last word.

"And you’re all just letting him do as he pleases?" I snapped before I could stop myself.

The words came out sharper than intended.

My fists clenched at my sides as I scanned the faces around me. First years stood frozen, fear clear in their eyes. Some of the upper-year students avoided my gaze altogether, pretending not to see what was happening.

Why were they just watching?

I could understand the first years being too scared to act. Alad’s reputation alone was enough to paralyze them. But the upper years? The ones with experience, skill, and authority?

Why weren’t they doing anything?

Where the hell is Leonardo?

With his annoying sense of justice, there was no way he’d overlook something like this.

Unless...

A thought crossed my mind, cold and unpleasant.

Unless he’s purposely ignoring it because it’s Alad.

I scanned the training ground, my eyes searching for Leonardo’s familiar figure. I didn’t spot him anywhere.

Instead, someone else caught my attention.

Hans.

The top-ranking student in swordsmanship.

The so-called joker of the academy.

He was running.

Not sparring. Not supervising. Just running laps around the entire training ground, sweat dripping down his face as his footsteps thudded against the dirt. His breathing was steady, controlled—like this was just another part of his routine.

What the hell is he doing?

He passed by the scene without even sparing a glance at Beric being beaten. No hesitation. No reaction.

It was as if nothing was happening at all.

He ran past as if the cries, the impact of blows, and the twisted excuse of "training" didn’t exist.

And that made my stomach churn even more.

What’s wrong with everyone in this academy who holds a high rank? Are they all insane? First the damn principal, who only cares about keeping his workload low, then his idiot son with his twisted sense of justice, and now Hans, who I thought was a decent person!

The question echoed inside my head as I stared at the scene before me, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached. It was as if power here didn’t elevate people—it rotted them from the inside out. The higher they climbed, the more detached they became, until suffering turned into nothing more than background noise.

Meanwhile, Beric continued to get beaten, his body slamming into the dirt again and again. Each dull impact sent a jolt through my chest. He was already bruised, his uniform torn and stained, his breathing ragged and uneven. Every attempt he made to push himself up was met with another ruthless strike that forced him back down.

I could no longer contain my anger.

I didn’t know Beric that well—we only talked during class—but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about friendship. It wasn’t even about justice in some grand, heroic sense. It was about the fact that what was happening right now was wrong. Plain and simple.

And the fact that Alad was the one doing the thrashing made it impossible for me to stand by any longer.

Seeing one of my classmates being beaten one-sidedly by that bastard dragged old memories to the surface—memories I’d buried deep, memories of helplessness and watching others suffer while authority figures looked the other way. My hands trembled as heat surged through my veins, the familiar, ugly rage clawing its way up from my chest.

I stepped forward, unable to hold back any longer.

"Stop it right now!" I shouted.

My voice cut through the air like a blade.

The chatter around the training ground died instantly. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Even the distant clang of swords seemed to fade as every pair of eyes turned toward me—including Alad’s.

He paused mid-motion, his foot still hovering near Beric’s ribs. Slowly, he straightened up. His face twisted into an irritated scowl, clearly annoyed that someone had interrupted his fun. But the moment his gaze settled on me, recognition flickered in his eyes—and then, a sinister smile crept across his lips.

"Oh?" he said, dragging out the word. "You’re up already?"

He looked me up and down, deliberately slow, as if inspecting a broken toy that somehow refused to stay discarded.

"Are you sure you’re fine not lying in the clinic bed?" Alad sneered, his voice dripping with mock concern.

I didn’t bother answering.

There was nothing worth saying to someone like him.

I simply kept my gaze fixed on him, unblinking, letting my silence speak louder than any insult. My fists tightened at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I forced myself to stay still.

"You’re no fun, are you?" Alad continued, clicking his tongue. "Why don’t you go lie down again? You clearly haven’t recovered."

"Stop what you’re doing, Alad," I said firmly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "What do you think you’re accomplishing?"

The smile on his face widened, as if I’d just said something incredibly amusing.

"Oh?" he tilted his head slightly. "Are you friends with this first year?"

He glanced down at Beric, who groaned weakly, struggling just to breathe.

"Then that’s all the more reason for me to keep going, right?" Alad said, chuckling under his breath.

Something snapped.

"Are you out of your mind?" I shot back. "Finally showing your true colors to everyone?"

I swept my gaze across the crowd that had gathered. Faces filled with unease. Some looked angry. Some guilty. Most looked afraid. No one spoke. No one stepped forward.

Alad followed my gaze briefly, then shrugged.

"Hm? I’m not doing anything wrong," he said casually. "I’m just training him to be the best soldier he can be."

The words sounded rehearsed—empty. The kind of excuse people used when they wanted to justify cruelty without taking responsibility for it.

"Even a little kid could come up with a more believable lie than that," I spat, my anger flaring uncontrollably.

A ripple ran through the spectators. Some shifted uncomfortably. Others looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

"And what about all of you?" I turned toward them, my frustration boiling over. "Why aren’t you doing anything to stop this?"

The question hung heavy in the air.

No one answered.

No one moved.

Their silence was louder than any shout.

"They can’t do anything," Alad cut in smoothly, stepping forward just enough to place himself between me and the crowd. His voice was calm, confident—certain. "And even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t dare."

I snapped my gaze back to him, my blood running cold.

"What do you mean?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Well, since Instructor Gord isn’t here, he left Leonardo in charge of training everyone," Alad said, spreading his arms slightly as if presenting an obvious truth. "But since our little lover boy got his heart broken, he handed that authority to me and didn’t bother showing up."

He laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second of it.

The words made my stomach twist. So that was it. A chain of irresponsibility passed down like trash no one wanted to deal with—until it landed in the hands of someone like him.

"Is that why none of you are stepping in?" I asked, turning my head toward the crowd. My voice echoed across the training ground. "Because of some petty authority?"

No one answered.

Some of them flinched. Others stared at the ground. A few clenched their fists, trembling—but still, not a single person moved.

"Petty?" Alad suddenly burst into laughter, loud and sharp. "Hahaha!"

The sound grated on my nerves.

Then, just as abruptly, he stopped laughing and looked straight at me, his eyes cold.

"Let me explain, since you’re clearly an idiot," he said. "With this authority, if you fight me, it’s the same as fighting Instructor Gord himself."

His lips curled into a smug grin.

"Do you really want that?" he continued. "If he finds out, punishment will be the *least* of your worries."

The way he said it made it clear—this wasn’t an empty threat. He knew exactly how the academy worked. He knew how to weaponize rules and hierarchy.

"So step down now," Alad said dismissively, turning his attention back to Beric as if I were already irrelevant, "if you don’t want to fight Instructor Gord." freewebnovel.cσ๓

I didn’t respond right away.

Instead, I looked at Beric.

He was barely conscious, his body trembling as he tried to prop himself up on one arm. His face was swollen, his lips split, blood staining the dirt beneath him. When our eyes met, his widened slightly—not with hope, but desperation.

Help me.

That single, silent plea was enough.

I exhaled slowly.

"Do you think I care?" I said coldly.

The temperature around us seemed to drop.

"Huh?" Alad blinked, genuinely surprised.

"Do you think I care about some ’punishment’?" I continued, my voice steady, calm—dangerously so. "As long as I get to beat you to a pulp, that’s enough compensation for me."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

I reached out and grabbed a wooden sword from Nyrinn without taking my eyes off Alad. She stiffened in surprise but didn’t pull away. The weight of the weapon settled into my palm—familiar, grounding.

"You think I’m going to fall for your bluff?" Alad sneered, though his smile was a little tighter now. "The moment you lay a hand on me, you’re—"

He didn’t get to finish.

My body moved before my mind could second-guess it.

The wooden sword smashed straight into his face.

The impact cracked loudly through the training ground.

Caught completely off guard, Alad stumbled back, his eyes wide in shock before his feet slipped out from under him. He hit the ground hard, rolling once before stopping, groaning in pain.

Silence.

Then chaos.

Shouts erupted from the crowd. Some students recoiled in fear. Others stared in disbelief.

Alad spat blood onto the dirt as he pushed himself up slightly, his face twisted with fury.

"Now you’ve really done it," he snarled, his voice shaking with rage. "Don’t think for a second you’ll get away with this."

"Shut up already," I said, stepping forward. "I’ve beaten you once before—but sadly, no one saw it."

His eyes widened.

"This time," I continued, my grip tightening on the sword, "I’ll make sure everyone gets to watch just how pathetic you really are."

I charged at him.

The sound of my footsteps pounded in my ears. My heart raced—not with fear, but exhilaration. The weight of everything I’d been holding back exploded into motion.

Luckily, Leonardo wasn’t around.

Hans—who had finally stopped running laps—stood off to the side, watching with open amusement, his arms crossed like this was nothing more than entertainment.

Ars and Byen were there too, observing silently from the sidelines. Julie wasn’t here either.

No one from the top cards of swordsmanship was stepping in.

Good.

That meant no one would stop me.

Alad had just started to push himself up when I closed the distance.

I swung.

The wooden sword slammed into his face again, snapping his head sideways and sending him crashing back into the ground with a heavy thud.

Dust scattered into the air.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

He groaned, coughing, his body twitching as he struggled to move.

I loomed over him, breathing hard, my vision sharp and focused.

"Let’s show everyone," I said, a grin spreading across my face—wild, unrestrained, "just how pathetic you really are."