The Fallen Stallion's Last Stand

The kids who still had milk on their lips were screaming about bribes when a certain prosecutor tore through someone's house. That had been quite a while ago.

By then, Palaestra Academy—which had been spectacularly reduced to a smoldering ruin—had posted a notice for the newly accepted students.

To summarize: “We’re open for business as usual.”

The academy had been half-destroyed, burned to the ground, and littered with corpses, yet they insisted everything was perfectly normal. It was a statement overflowing with trust and confidence. No one would have complained if they had simply postponed the semester by a year. Honestly, it would have been far more convincing if they had just come out and said, “Palaestra Academy… is shutting down for good…”

Talking about “normal operations” felt ridiculous when rumors still swirled that bodies were still being found on campus. There were even stories claiming the ruined Shareltea campus had become a premium monster playground.

Still, they weren’t entirely without excuses. Like any government-funded institution, once they received even the bare minimum budget, they had no choice but to proceed. In a generous light, it was a triumph of willpower. In a less generous one, it was simply passing the buck.

What was certain was that anyone enrolling now would be the ones forced to shoulder this bomb—new students and current ones alike. They would be exposed to far more dangerous environments, endure grueling conditions, and risk everything falling apart. At the very least, none of this year’s incoming class were ignorant of that fact.

That was why, the moment they received their acceptance notices, the successful applicants began preparing for the future. Some gave up on attending the academy entirely. Others threw themselves into training so they wouldn’t die a dog’s death there.

“Hah… haaa…”

The same was true for the woman swinging a greatsword in the training hall. She had once been far too delicate, but that was no longer the case. Even so, she was still lacking in every way. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t produce the same strength or technique as before.

Thud. Crack. Thwack—

Just listening to the sounds of her striking the dummy monsters made it obvious. Most of the impacts weren’t powerful so much as weak and fast. Her shrunken frame simply couldn’t handle the weapon anymore. It wasn’t even a matter of muscle strength—it was pure body weight.

“Damn it!”

An indelible weakness. After hammering the dummy repeatedly, she spat out a curse and hurled the greatsword to the floor. But even that failed. The momentum of throwing the weapon pulled her body along, and she collapsed face-first.

“Aack—!! U-ugh…”

It was a good thing her chest was so large. Otherwise she would have smashed straight into the hard floor. As it was, the greatsword clearly didn’t suit her anymore. Switching weapons would be the smart move. Continuing like this could only lead to disaster.

Her magic power had increased compared to before. Switching to the path of a mage might be far better. After all, she had already quit the Madness Herb. With enough willpower, she could still make a living even if she started late.

“No. No… Just a little more practice and I’ll get it.”

The problem was that she had zero intention of doing any such thing. For someone who had devoted everything to revenge and restoring her pride, compromise was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠same as defeat. She had to crush her enemy in the field she was most confident in. It was fair to say she had no other goal in life.

“……”

At least, that was how it had been. The sense of hopelessness was undeniable.

That was how Kim Yujae—

“I’ll just… rest for a bit.”

—or rather, the woman who had recently become Kim Yuju, trudged toward the corner of the room. She slumped down, picked up the phone lying beside her, and opened an internet app. She navigated straight to a certain site.

It was a well-known community where hunters gathered.

A place she had never bothered looking at before. A place she only started visiting after becoming a woman. It had begun when the feeling of having fallen into the abyss overlapped with the reality of hitting rock bottom.

Seeking out a space full of people weaker than herself was a kind of homing instinct. Of course, she hadn’t been aggressive about it at first. In the beginning she had simply sneered at them from afar, calling them vulgar. But now it was fair to say she blended in with them more crudely than anyone.

As if to prove it, Kim Yuju clicked on a suitable post from the list.

News about the guild her friend belonged to. Extremely bad news.

“Nartika…”

He had once taken such pride in belonging to that guild. She couldn’t even imagine how devastated he would be if it was stolen by Nartika like this.

Of course, heartbreak wasn’t the only problem. If the guild was taken, everything would be liquidated and he would be kicked out. In that case, he might not even be able to attend the academy properly—financially, socially, or mentally.

Unfortunately, there was a high chance Kim Yuju wouldn’t be able to give him proper support. Her own situation wasn’t exactly great either.

She moved on to the next post.

“You son of a… bitch…”

She muttered it while reading. The post contained information about Kang Sian, the Far North elf who had done this to her. Kim Yuju ground her teeth, her phone shaking in her grip.

Seeing the man she hated appear to be doing so well was unbearably painful. In the end, she moved on to another post. She told herself she wasn’t running away—she was simply refusing to waste time on useless things. In other words, Kang Sian had failed to steal any more of her time. That, she decided, was a great victory.

Except for that one incident, she had never lost. It was classic self-justification to avoid losing herself.

She posted it as if it would clear the air, hoping people would finally see his true nature.

A few minutes later, as soon as a new notification arrived, Kim Yuju refreshed the page.

The comment section had exploded. An unexpected reaction flooded her with confusion. Everything seemed to stop. Everything felt cursed.

By the time she came to her senses and moved her fingers again, it was already too late.

“N-no!”

Seventy-two hours of silence. Even though she came from a wealthy family, she was nothing in front of the admins. Kim Yuju let out a scream.