A-Class Promotion Exam (5): Guided Arrows of Despair

On top of a massive tree far from the plaza, a woman perched on a branch. Dyed blonde hair mixed with two-tone blue streaks, heavy makeup to match. None other than Jeon Dam-bi, the one who'd spoken with Choi Siwoo just an hour ago.

'Hoo…'

She wasn't in her modified uniform but a jade-tinted reinforced suit, a custom bow with a high-magnification scope in hand. Both were top-tier gear packed with cutting-edge features at exorbitant prices. Honestly, overkill for a spar with a mere cadet. This was frontline armament, fit for battling real monsters.

Yet she deemed it insufficient.

'Only a total monster could make me need this.'

Jeon Dam-bi recalled her first meeting with Choi Siwoo. She'd nearly pissed herself holding it in. Those indifferent eyes had pierced her like they saw through all creation, his slight frame brimming with countless implications.

'…That handshake was deliberate, huh?'

It had to be. He knew everything yet shook her hand anyway—that overflowing leisure only an absolute powerhouse could afford. A fragment of arrogance born from unchallenged supremacy. But she couldn't complain. He was a being above the heavens, entitled to it.

'For a split second, I mistook him for one of the Three Swordsmen. That pressure…'

Jeon Dam-bi drew an arrow from her waist quiver, nocking it silently. She bent one knee, steadying with the other foot—the classic sniper stance. Gazing at the black smoke rising, all was eerily quiet. Even the crackle of flames devouring structures felt muffled in the stillness.

'…No way he's down already.'

She thought. No footsteps, no faint breaths. Even she, confident in her hearing, doubted herself amid the silence. She'd almost blurted it out.

'…Did I get him?'

She clamped her mouth shut. A magic spell, straight out of her beloved movies and dramas—she knew its power well. Creatures shredded to bits, limbs torn off, revived by those words alone. A reality-warping incantation.

'Calm down. Assess his status first.'

Shifting her view, she spotted dazed Hwangbo Han blinking in shock, then realizing his attack as he turned toward her. Jeon Dam-bi cursed inwardly.

'That damn junior.'

She was an archer, specialized in long-range sniping—a pure distant DPS. Position was life or death; exposure meant catastrophic combat drop.

'How am I supposed to snipe if you tip him off, you idiot bear!'

What if Choi Siwoo pinpointed her? Unable to hold back, she yelled into her radio.

"What the hell are you doing, Junior! This guy's not done yet. Get ready to attack! I told you from the start—I'll keep harassing, you finish him!"

"No veto power here! Association exec said it directly. You get what that means? Even with your hotshot dad, getting on the Association's bad side is a headache—you know that. And drop the casual talk! I'm your senior!"

Jeon Dam-bi gritted her teeth, hands trembling in rage.

'This moron!'

Who cheats for fun against a handsome junior? Bruising her pride like this?

'I need results, or the Association won't let it slide with a warning!'

Her outburst halted as a chill ran down her spine. She whipped her gaze around. Through parting smoke, Choi Siwoo stared straight at her. Untouched—no scorch marks whatsoever.

Jeon Dam-bi swallowed dryly.

'Busted?'

Too late to wonder. He'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clocked everything from the first arrow.

'…If he'd wanted, he could've rushed me then and ended it.'

But worse: faint ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mana cloaking his hand. Jeon Dam-bi felt queasy.

'Perfect power control, accounting for everything.'

Just his palm, mana barrier precisely matching the explosion radius. In under a second, minimal force perfectly defended.

'Insane. He's really 17? What if he's a reincarnated hero from legend?'

Even clichéd tropes crossed her mind. Manipulating mana was dozens of times harder than skills— this was god-tier.

'True monster.'

Association briefings? "That big a deal?" Meeting him? "Impressive." Wrong from the start. Underestimating was her fatal error.

She steeled herself. Mockery be damned—she'd unload everything. Only then could she accept defeat.

"Hwangbo Han, Junior. Attacking now."

"Shut it. Sick of your thick skull. Denying the gap means you're already out!"

Jeon Dam-bi drew her bow over her shoulder. The arrow split into strands, tips blackening.

A pinnacle skill—grazing alone blinds the foe's sight, leading to death. Arrows launched, but oddly scattered every which way, like a novice's wild shot.

No mistake. Calculated precision.

Jeon Dam-bi channeled power into the hand that shook his. A pattern emerged on her skin, mana circuits glowing.

'Sorry, Junior.'

This'll sting.

* * *

"…Hm."

I eyed the faint tingle on my hand. A goblin-mask pattern oozed ominous energy.

'Curse.'

Messing with my unique ability. High-level ritual, tricky structure—not top-tier, but a pain to dispel.

A jolt hit. From Jeon Dam-bi's spot, arrows scattered. Having tanked her opener, I knew her marksmanship rivaled Ohana's.

So that was…

'A technique triggered by this pattern.'

Effect probably…

'Homing.'

Sure enough, arrows veered impossibly toward me. Pitch-black tips, mana reeking danger. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Her absurd reserves fueled each—frontline hero-level destruction.

I ducked the first rush. Twisted my waist for the next, shouldered aside the flankers. But they arced skyward, accelerating back.

My hand pattern darkened, burning hot.

'Won't stop till it hits.'

Fueled by her insane mana. An archer-exclusive miracle.

A grin crept up. Thrilling. Pure fun.

'Good call recruiting her.'

This rush was worth any schemes.

▶Master. Curious, but… didn't you consider other effects beyond homing? Debuffs like weakness, slow… curse stacking could've endangered even you.

'No sweat.'

I could've countered extras easy.

'Plus, I was sure she didn't.'

▶Doubt? What certainty…

Her eyes when we met. Pale green-blue harmony, red undertones.

'Regret, guilt. Flicker of thrill.'

Her motives? Unknown. But not fully willing. Irrelevant. Few dictate their path here. Only the powerful—by might, fame, wealth.

I shook her hand for that resolve in her gaze.

'Vowing to fight, hands dirty, against injustice.'

Such eyes? Rare post-God Wars. In this boring peace, she passed my bar.

▶Hmph. Long-winded, but basically 'cause she's cute, right?

'Kay, what the hell?'

She's off lately. Knows my past hell with women, yet these weird probes.

* * *

One arrow grazed Choi Siwoo's ear. Jeon Dam-bi clenched her fist.

"It connected!"

Blood drawn triggered Dark Fate-Stealing Slaughter. Engineered that way.

His eyes blackened instantly—pupils, irises consumed, vision crippled.

'Even a monster loses edge blind.'

Prime chance. She keyed the radio.

"Hwangbo Han! Snap out of it! Attack now! I'm guiding trajectories—they won't hit you!"

Still? 'Fucking brat.' Spoiled under Kwonwang, blind to fight vs. duel. This was do-or-die, crowds be damned.

Done with him. She'd end it solo.

She poured mana into her hand. A surge hit the arrows, black intensifying to pure void. No longer arrows—mini-missiles each.

* * *

▶Master. Trajectory and distance calc?

Power amped, faster now.

'Nah, I got this.'

I stepped back. Eyes darkness-filled, but mine saw fine.

'Smart grabbing from Yoon Jiye.'

Didn't expect this use. Fifteen arrows curved in sync.

'Catch 'em barehanded, big proficiency gain?'

Breath steady, gripped tight.

No excess rock—just thin stone gauntlets, mana-infused.

'Now!'

I swung at empty air. Perfect timing, distance nailed. All fifteen clutched.

'Hm. Not bursting.'

I glanced at Jeon Dam-bi, 1.5km out. Jaw dropped, incredulous. Crushed the mana, dusted my palms.

"So, you just gonna stand there?"

Ahead, Hwangbo Han gulped. Gritting teeth:

"I don't do that shit…"

"Shut up. Rush if you will. Or is this it? Team up next time—more fun."

"No coward moves. Only my power…!"

"Yeah, yeah."

I beckoned.

"Show me. Kwonwang's son. Use what you learned."

"Arrogant bastard. Fine. Her attacks done—I'll show my true worth, prove the world ain't yours to bend!"

As I waited, earpick in hand, he pressed his heart, clenched.

Hm? What.

'Not an ultimate skill?'

"…!"

A chill swept. Mana heart slowed. Space warped—a veil spreading circular around us.

"Behold, Choi Siwoo! My secret art!"

Instant blackout. Sub-second shift. Surroundings transformed—no trees, barren sand and dirt. Giant beast bones piled like graves.

This… no way?

I slowly drew my left hand from my pocket—the one never skipped post-match.