Home/I Became the Emergency Food Supply of the Bear Family/ch75

Chapter 75

"O-okay, that's enough—stop looking!"

"This research really suits you perfectly, Ber."

"Right! My little sister is the best!"

Ber snatched the booklet from Louis's hand irritably and turned away.

"I think I need to get ready for the tournament now, so I'll be going, Ber."

Only then did Ber, her face flushed, turn and look at Louis. Louis puffed out his chest with an unflinching expression.

"Watch this big brother of yours closely. I might become the first second-year champion of this swordsmanship tournament!"

That was right—the swordsmanship tournament was about to begin.

---

At the Imperial Academy Swordsmanship department grounds.

Before the tournament, students, parents, and distinguished guests invited to the Harvest Festival were gathering.

After preliminary rounds across all Swordsmanship years, only those who advanced to the finals could stand on the arena on tournament day.

All Imperial Academy students were future leaders of the Empire. The swordsmanship tournament selected only the most promising students from prestigious noble families.

She'd never imagined she'd be able to stand on such a stage. And yet, she'd already reached the finals for the third time. It was a day of such honor that words could hardly express it.

Only after carefully sharpening his blade did Kaien return it to its sheath. With his sword at his side and preparation complete, he felt a gaze from beside him.

It was Raoul.

Though they hadn't met in the preliminaries, Raoul had also made it to the finals.

Raoul, too, had finished tending to his sword and returned it to its sheath—staring intently at Kaien.

"This is finally the last tournament."

Raoul walked toward Kaien, slowly raising the corner of his mouth.

"Let's see how well you do."

"......"

"Today, 'Father' will be watching you too."

At Raoul's words, Kaien's eyes widened as he scanned the audience.

Soon, he easily spotted a familiar face.

His father.

The unexpected presence shocked Kaien. After all, his father had never once attended the swordsmanship tournament.

After confirming the audience, Kaien looked back—Raoul was already gone.

He had turned away, walking to the waiting area with a casual wave over his shoulder.

The tournament began.

Held in a knockout format, by past noon it was already approaching the semifinals.

The second semifinal match was between Kaien Noirel and Raoul Noirel.

Raoul.

Before Raoul was adopted into the Noirel family, their skill gap had been like heaven and earth—they couldn't even compete. Their physical strength alone was incomparable.

But since his lung disease was cured, Raoul had never once beaten Kaien.

That was a fact known to all Swordsmanship students and faculty. So no one was paying special attention to this match—except for Viscount Noirel and his wife watching from the stands.

Creak. His grip on the sword hilt tightened unconsciously.

Why was his father in that seat? Did he have business in the capital? Or was there some other meaning?

If so, I...

Just as Kaien steeled himself, the whistle blew. Raoul charged with a battle cry.

Clang, clang, chwang!

From the start, Raoul swung wildly. With the sound of wind being cut—bung, bwoong—Kaien moved his sword to block Raoul's attacks.

But the moment his blade met Raoul's, Kaien's expression twisted subtly.

...Light.

Raoul's sword was strangely light. Though Raoul seemed to be attacking fiercely, the blades barely connected with any force.

Watching with a frown, Kaien defended with minimal movement. Raoul continued his relentless offensive.

Until Raoul's mother, Marinella, lowered her fan from her mouth and revealed a smiling face.

Clang!

With a sharp sound, Raoul's sword flew into the air. One short strike from Kaien had disarmed him. Kaien instinctively pressed his blade to Raoul's nape.

At that moment, Marinella rose from her seat, pale-faced. Only after seeing that did Raoul, head bowed, catch his breath—as if the outcome was decided.

The referee, too, raised his whistle—but Kaien raised his free hand to stop him.

"...What are you doing? The match is already—"

"Don't joke around."

Startled by the anger in his voice, Raoul looked up. Kaien's eyes held something close to disgust.

Gazing down at the frozen Raoul, Kaien turned and walked to where his sword had fallen. Using his own blade, he slid it toward Raoul.

"Take it."

"What?"

"Fight me with everything you have—enough to satisfy me."

"......"

"I won't accept a victory like this."

Raoul, looking between the sword on the ground and Kaien with a dazed expression, finally let out a laugh.

"Let me end this decently, you insufferably upright bastard."

Belatedly sensing something wrong, Kaien was about to ask—when Raoul lunged.

"Since you asked me to."

"...You're pretty fast."

Pushing Raoul's sword aside, Kaien stepped back. Before he could counter, another blade came at him. Too late to dodge—Kaien instinctively kicked the blade. Though it was a close call, he remained calm.

"You monster."

Raoul laughed bitterly but didn't stop.

The clashing sword felt entirely different now—heavy, as if he'd put his whole body into it.

Yes. This was Raoul. Because he had this skill, Kaien had thought him untouchable. Unbeatable.

So Kaien had worked hard. To turn his father's attention toward him, and to make his resentful father sincerely apologize to his deceased mother.

Raoul had mocked him for being alone in the family, mocked his mother's death, and trampled on the past version of himself who couldn't even fight back.

And now he wanted to end this match half-heartedly—unforgivable.

He wanted Raoul to stay the same greedy, despicable bastard who'd tried to win by any means.

So he wouldn't end up pitying him.

"Hah...!"

Exploiting an opening, Kaien struck down—Raoul gasped, barely blocking.

Kkigigik, the blades screeched against each other, and cracks began to form on Raoul's sword.

There was no time for Raoul to withdraw. Jjaeng! With a sharp sound, the broken blade fell to the floor.

The whistle blew. At the same time, a huge roar erupted from the stands.

Kaien had won.

Karang. Dropping his broken sword, Raoul collapsed onto the arena.

"Ah..."

Bracing his hands on the ground, Raoul leaned back and looked up at the sky. Squinting into the blazing sun, he laughed—refreshingly.

"How about it—satisfied now?"

Watching the sweat drip from Raoul's chin to the floor, Kaien nodded silently.

"Ha... such a troublesome bastard. Well, this is the end anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"End? What have you been talking about?"

As Kaien frowned and asked, Raoul laughed again and answered:

"I'm planning to submit my withdrawal tomorrow. Then Mother and I won't be 'Noirel' anymore."

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