Not a Rank Assessment, But a Special One - 1
The Academy’s day drew to a close once more. Official lectures wrapped up around six in the evening, after which students were left to their own devices. They could rest, strengthen bonds with others, or confront their own shortcomings and throw themselves into training. The choice was theirs, and so were the consequences.
“Huff… huff!”
In an empty training hall with no one else around, Lee Hyunwoo had been running for over thirty minutes straight. Sweat poured off him like rain, his breaths came ragged and raw, yet he refused to stop. Anyone else would have quit in disgust, but Lee Hyunwoo kept running. And running.
He was certain he possessed no real talent. All he had was perseverance—nothing more. So he squeezed every drop of that perseverance until it nearly killed him. When others trained ten times, he trained a hundred. When they reached a hundred, he pushed to ten thousand.
Because he lacked talent, effort was his only path. If he simply worked hard enough, he could at least catch up. Believing that with every fiber of his being, Lee Hyunwoo had never once allowed himself to rest. He drove himself relentlessly.
Beep-beep—
The alarm chimed, announcing he had completed the target distance. Only then did he gradually slow down and come to a stop.
Good. Now, a hundred sword swings.
Most people would have taken at least a short breather. Lee Hyunwoo snatched up his sword instead and settled into stance. He had been told that battles against monsters or villains left no room for comfort. A true battlefield was a place where even the smallest breath could cost you everything—a war between life and death. The instructors always stressed that the Academy and the real field were nothing alike. The ability to rest when tired or receive immediate healing when injured? Those were luxuries that would vanish the moment you stepped outside these walls.
If he didn’t want to die a meaningless death, he had to grow stronger. If he didn’t want to burden others, he had to grow stronger. Even if it was only to become famous, strength was the price.
Some people could substitute talent for that strength. For Lee Hyunwoo, the only path was effort.
Whoosh— Whoosh—!
His body should have been exhausted from the brutal regimen, yet Lee Hyunwoo didn’t waver. His eyes stayed sharp, and his sword cut exactly where it needed to go.
Twenty more.
While Lee Hyunwoo was deep in his training, two students who had finished their classes walked past the training hall and spotted him.
“Hey. Hasn’t that guy been running since forever? Is he seriously training without a break?”
“Leave him alone. He’s Bronze, right? If you’ve got no skill, you’ve gotta at least try.”
“As if that’ll change anything. If effort was all it took, every random idiot would be S-rank.”
Whether they’d meant for him to hear or were simply talking between themselves didn’t matter. What mattered was that the words had reached Lee Hyunwoo’s ears.
“....”
Normally he would have ignored it. These things happened all the time. Everywhere you went, people looked down on those they considered beneath them. But for some reason, today he couldn’t let it slide.
Lee Hyunwoo stopped his sword mid-swing and walked straight up to them.
“What did you just say?”
He hated being looked down on, but he couldn’t tolerate anyone trivializing effort. The way they spoke—as if anyone could do it—made his blood boil. Especially when none of them had ever truly exerted themselves. And then they had the nerve to complain that their half-hearted attempts yielded no results. It was revolting.
“What the hell?”
“Apologize. For what you just said.”
“Who do you think you are? We can’t even talk to each other now?”
“You can talk all you want among yourselves. The problem is when it reaches someone else’s ears.”
Lee Hyunwoo blocked their path as he spoke. The male student who had made the “anyone and everyone” comment twisted his face in annoyance.
“Hey, you. You’re mad because we dissed Bronze, aren’t you?”
“That’s not—”
“Yeah, right. It’s written all over your face. And you’re a first-year? Listen up, Bronze junior. If you’re embarrassed about your rank, stop eavesdropping on your betters and train until you climb up.”
“....”
“A Silver saying a Bronze has no skill hurts your feelings? Then promote already. Problem solved.”
Several sharp retorts rose in Lee Hyunwoo’s throat, but he swallowed them. To the Silver student, however, his silence looked like something else entirely.
“What’s with that face? Oh, I get it. You think Silver and Bronze are basically the same, don’t you?”
“Hey, that’s enough. Let’s just go.”
“Go? A first-year looking down on his senior is already pissing me off, and this Bronze trash who can’t even escape his own rank is acting like this? No way I’m letting it slide. This is exactly why Bronzes keep disrespecting Silvers.”
The boy threw his outer jacket to his friend, drew his sword, and pointed it at Lee Hyunwoo.
“If you’re that angry, let’s settle it with a spar. I’ll teach you why you’re Bronze and why I’m Silver. I’ll show you there’s a real gap between us.”
“....”
“Well? You in or not? Hurry up. If you’re scared, go back to swinging your sword like a good little Bronze.”
There was nothing left to say. Lee Hyunwoo gripped his sword and stepped forward.
The Silver student smiled.
“That’s what I thought. Bronze idiots always say the same thing—they can reach Silver anytime they want. Without realizing that’s already their limit. Junior, today you’re getting an education.”
Those who truly understood the pain of effort—the lonely, grueling fight—never belittled someone else’s hard work. Anyone who did was someone who didn’t even know the first letter of the word.
To trash like this, a beating was the best medicine.
The genius of effort who could even devour talent—the protagonistLee Hyunwoo—thought exactly that.
“Urk!”
Two seconds after the spar began, the Silver student was slammed face-first into the ground. Neither the challenger himself nor the other student acting as referee seemed to understand what had just happened.
“Is this the level of Silver that likes to lecture about effort?”
“Krrgh… You cowardly bastard! Attacking the instant it starts—who does that?!”
“That’s ridiculous. The spar had already begun. How is that cowardly?”
“Don’t you know the three-second courtesy?! We didn’t even get to say anything…”
Unfortunately, Lee Hyunwoo had no patience left for nonsense.
Crack—
He didn’t even need his sword. One punch was enough. His opponent was too slow, talked too much, and—most importantly—was far too sloppy.
The boy flew through the air and crashed onto the floor once again.
Silver level is actually worse than Bronze.
On top of that, a lot of frustration had been building up these past few days. The reason was simple: getting utterly crushed by Examiner Baek Seojin without the slightest mercy. After suffering like that repeatedly, stress had piled up before he even noticed.
Of course, he held no resentment toward the examiner. If anything, he was deeply grateful. For someone who walked the path of effort, the most valuable defeat was losing to someone who had worked even harder. It became fuel for even greater effort.
Because he himself was that kind of person, he could tell. He could imagine how many drops of sweat Baek Seojin must have shed. For a mere support-type ability user to reach that level of skill, the effort required would have been beyond imagination.
A Silver who had earned Baek Seojin’s recognition would be one thing. These guys, however, were hopeless garbage.
That was Lee Hyunwoo’s conclusion.
*
What’s going on? Why is the atmosphere so weird?
Having finished her commute, Kang Hana immediately sensed a strange tension flowing through the Academy. The nervous energy between students, the odd glances they kept throwing at one another. She wondered if a fight had broken out, but it felt different somehow.
“Unnie!”
The moment she stepped into the student council room, Yu Dasom—who had arrived earlier—rushed over in a panic. She looked unusually flustered; both her words and actions were far from her usual cheerful self.
“Did you hear the news?!”
“Dasom, I literally just walked in.”
“Ah. Right.”
Yu Dasom tapped her own head. Get it together.
“Anyway, it happened yesterday. A first-year Bronze and a second-year Silver had a spar.”
“A spar? Different year, different rank?”
It was a matchup that almost never happened. For the second-year, winning was expected and losing was humiliating. For the first-year, the odds of victory were so low that avoiding the fight entirely was the only sensible choice.
Some claimed the gap between Bronze and Silver was tiny. But even a tiny gap was still a gap. In the world of ability users, that difference was absolute. Why else would the Academy issue academic warnings to students stuck in Bronze forever? Because the level difference was real—whether in how they used their abilities or in their very mindset.
To Platinum-rank Kang Hana, they all looked roughly the same, but differences still existed. And yet, in the entire history of the Academy, no Bronze had ever defeated a Silver.
…Wait. No way.
The moment that thought crossed her mind, something clicked. It couldn’t be. It had never happened before. There was no way.
Yu Dasom shattered her hopes without mercy.
“The Silver lost. To the Bronze. And it wasn’t even close—they say he got completely destroyed.”
“That’s impossible…”
“But here’s the really funny part. After that, he sparred with even more Silvers!”
“Don’t tell me he won those too?”
“Why wouldn’t he? Between yesterday and today, he’s already taken down five Silvers.”
At Yu Dasom’s firm nod, Kang Hana could only let out a stunned sigh. It looked like the Academy was about to become very, very noisy.