The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 402 Part 2 - The Academy’s Weapon Replicator

Pielott von Ribanche went by the name ‘Pielott di Ribanche’ on this continent. This was because the title ‘von’ was not used anywhere in this region.

At first, Pielott had struggled with the slight alteration to his name, but after a few days, he grew accustomed to it.

And as he did, Pielott began to feel a sense of nostalgia in this Atlas.

“Pielott, how did you solve that?”

“That swordsmanship earlier was amazing! How did you do it?”

“Incredible, your breathing is almost normal after that level of training!”

People around him were constantly amazed by whatever he did, their gazes filled with admiration and envy.

These were the reactions he had grown used to before entering Constel.

In his younger days, he would have been showered with praise, his pride, vanity, and arrogance growing in equal measure. But now, he felt a tinge of embarrassment.

‘……I see.’

Atlas didn’t have the same caliber of exceptional individuals as Constel.

Pielott himself was one of the strongest in Constel, and he was popular there as well.

However, he wasn’t the only one. Aster Evans was undeniably stronger than him in swordsmanship, and his friend and rival, Dier Aiger, never ceased to amaze him with his out-of-the-box thinking.

And then there was his master, Frondier de Roach.

If anyone embodied the term ‘exceptional,’ it was him.

“Amazing, Pielott! To have such skills as a transfer student!”

“Oh, uh, thanks. I appreciate it.”

A mock battle during combat practice.

As Pielott took a break after the session, a female student approached him, her eyes sparkling. She even offered him a waterbottle.

Her name was… what was it again? He couldn’t quite recall, but he was certain she was in the same class.

The fact that he was a transfer student had already been exposed. Frondier had told him it would come out eventually, so it was to be expected. It seemed not revealing it himself was the right call.

‘This is bad.’

Pielott thought as he drank the water.

He couldn’t bring himself to go all out.

Apparently, in the Agoris Continent, the performance of the weapon was prioritized over individual strength.

He had heard that a certain research group even aimed to develop magic-engineered weapons that could rival the power of Gods.

‘……If they ever saw a true Godly weapon, they’d quickly abandon that idea.’

Pielott shuddered, remembering the image of Frondier wielding his hammer.

Anyway, because of the continent’s focus on weapons, there seemed to be a lack of overwhelmingly strong individuals in Atlas. The average skill level didn’t seem too different from Constel, but these students lacked someone to truly admire.

And into this environment stepped Pielott, a character perfectly positioned to receive the adoration of female students and the admiration (and jealousy) of his male peers.

“Say, what did you do before transferring here? How did you get so strong?”

“Oh, um, I trained, yeah.”

Pielott held back his words. In the past, he would have excitedly rambled on about himself when asked such a question. He had changed a lot, even he could admit it.

‘And that’s what worries me.’

As he spent more time in Atlas, Pielott felt a growing sense of unease within him.

Here, there was no Aster Evans, clearly surpassing him in strength, nor his rival Dier Aiger to push him further.

His master, Frondier, was busy with his teaching duties and had no time to spar with him, and Elodie was naturally in the same boat.

Surrounded by praise and devoid of criticism or any form of disapproval, he was starting to feel a familiar sensation creeping back in.

‘…I might be reverting back to my old self.’

Lately, Pielott had noticed his resolve slowly waning.

Without anyone to truly challenge him, he found himself holding back, not wanting to stand out too much. To an outsider, he would appear to be playing the role of the naturally gifted yet humble transfer student, effortlessly surpassing everyone without even trying.

‘If this were like before, Frondier would have knocked some sense into me by now.’

Pielott vividly remembered his first encounter with Frondier.

No, it wasn’t really an encounter; it was a one-sided lesson.

He had felt the overwhelming gap in their abilities just from Frondier sitting in a chair, and later, he was taught a harsh lesson about his place as he was thoroughly beaten.

It was only after training under Frondier that Pielott realized:

How deeply rooted his arrogance truly was.

How his childish pride had clung to him like a stubborn stain.

As he finished the water and lowered the bottle, a quiet murmur escaped his lips.

“…Don’t be a spoiled brat, Pielott.”

“Huh? What was that?”

The girl in front of him tilted her head, confused by his muttering, but Pielott no longer saw her.

He remembered Frondier’s cold, sharp gaze. The traces of worry he had glimpsed in her eyes.

Frondier was incredibly strict with him, holding back on praise or encouragement even when it seemed deserved. The stark contrast in how she treated him compared to Dier made it abundantly clear.

‘It just goes to show how much of a handful you are, Pielott.’

Pielott had come here to be of use to Frondier. He had stowed away on the ship, enduring his master’s displeasure, all for the sake of becoming stronger.

Was it for this comfortable, stagnant life?

To receive empty praise from students who would soon surpass him if he slacked off even for a moment?

No, absolutely not.

“Hey.”

Just then, someone approached him.

“…You’re…”

“It’s Aias.”

Aias glared at Pielott with undisguised displeasure.

Pielott knew of him. He was one of the few undeniably strong individuals in Atlas, someone Pielott had marked as crucial to befriend on his quest for self-improvement.

“You seem to have gotten quite full of yourself, transfer student. All this attention has gone to your head, hasn’t it?”

“Full of myself…?”

Pielott pondered Aias’ words, trying to grasp their meaning.

Full of himself, overflowing with pointless pride.

‘Wait a minute.’

Pielott recalled a novel he had read. A transfer student arrives at a school, possessing exceptional skills that surpass those of his peers. However, this talent fuels his arrogance and conceit.

Drunk on his popularity and abilities, he crosses the line with the female protagonist, who dislikes him for his attitude. In a satisfying turn of events, he is put in his place by the male protagonist, facing humiliation and disgrace in front of the entire school.

Pielott, the transfer student, stood there with the girl who had offered him water by his side. Approaching them was the strongest student in the school, a figure who could easily pass as the protagonist.

‘This is it!’

Pielott’s eyes lit up.

‘This is my chance!’

Aias was the perfect person to break him out of his complacency and set him back on the right path.

Pielott had no doubt about it.

“That’s right, I am full of myself!”

“…What?”

As Aias stared at him in bewilderment, Pielott thought to himself,

‘This is my opportunity!’

Aias would be the one to correct his rotten attitude.

Pielott was certain of it.

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