Teach Me Swordsmanship
"What... is this guy...?"
Cha Yura, the Academy's practical exam proctor and a professor who'd lived sword in hand for twenty years, was desperately ignoring the cold sweat trickling down her spine.
The three-strike combo she'd just unleashed.
She'd held back against an examinee, of course, but it was a tricky off-beat trajectory that even active high-rank hunters struggled to block.
Yet this fresh-faced kid in front of her hadn't even been told to defend—no mana fluctuation at all, not even the slightest ripple.
Pure physical motion. And a single battered standard-issue wooden sword. With nothing more, he'd flicked away her every sword path like it was a game.
It's not just defense. He perfectly read the direction of the power in my sword and twisted the trajectory by the tiniest angle to redirect the force.
The minimal movement only someone who perfectly grasped the principles of the sword could show. The so-called realm of no-mind.
Cha Yura realized her right hand gripping the wooden sword was twitching faintly. It wasn't anger or frustration—it was closer to the thrill bubbling up at encountering an absurdly talented freshman.
Examinee number 314. The name on the documents was...
Cha Yura's intense gaze landed on the boy smiling brightly even after batting away her sword.
...Yoo Dohyun.
A monster who'd dismantled the proctor's aura with pure swordsmanship from the entrance exam onward.
A smirk tugged at her lips unbidden. It seemed this year's Academy intake included a truly ridiculous sword genius.
Cha Yura steadied her twitching wrist and slowly lowered her raised wooden sword. Returning to her usual icy expression, she bellowed her verdict across the deathly silent dome arena.
"...The test ends here. Examinee number 314, Yoo Dohyun—pass!"
"Whoops, somehow I ended up passing."
The storm of a practical test finally over, I was assigned a single room in the Academy dorms before I could even catch my breath.
Flop.
The moment I stepped inside, I collapsed onto the plush bed.
I hadn't even had time to sort out the chaos since opening my eyes. The adrenaline surging like it would burst my veins while clashing swords with that ferocious professor-lookalike had vanished like a lie once I realized it was all over.
Only then did my racing heart start to settle back to normal.
"Hoo..."
I let out a deep sigh and stared up at the ceiling.
A modern LED light next to an embedded mana stone lamp emitting a soft blue glow. That bizarre combo reminded me once again that I was really inside Ether Frontier.
I'm seriously in the game.
Ether Frontier, or EF for short.
A world where gates suddenly ripped open in 21st-century modern society, unleashing monsters. A clichéd modern fantasy academy action RPG where mana-awakened hunters rose as the new nobility and power.
And now I was a freshman at that insane hunter training academy. With no house, no relatives—nothing.
"Still... whose body did I end up in?"
Muttering at the ceiling, I suddenly snapped alert.
No way I dropped into this world in my original body, right?
The pathetic stamina of a modern weakling who'd spent all day in VR gaming.
If it was that body unchanged, forget surviving the Academy's brutal curriculum—I'd puke blood and collapse just from tomorrow morning's training ground laps.
Worried, I hauled my stiff body up and headed to the bathroom attached to the room. I faced the large full-length mirror above the sink.
"...Huh?"
The reflection wasn't my familiar original face.
Nor was it some stunningly handsome guy.
Messy black hair, dark eyes sunken without double eyelids. A utterly ordinary, safe impression—nothing standout, the kind of extra you'd believe was plucked off the street.
It should have been a complete stranger's face, but I knew this boy very well.
This is my default preset.
The custom character I'd mashed spacebar through lazily in my 7000-hour playtime across dozens of runs. Exactly that look.
Well, at least it's not my real body, so that's fine.
I was about to sigh in relief when—
"...Wait a sec."
My train of thought hit a snag with a ominous jolt. Goosebumps raced up my spine.
If I hadn't possessed someone in this world but become the 'character itself' from when I started the game...
No way... those crazy handicaps I picked at character creation are all applied to this body too?
Grazed? Instant death. Guard damage? Instant death. Dodge roll invincible frames pierced? Screaming death.
That Glass Cannon nightmare I'd gleefully slammed in was no longer just a game penalty—it was my real-life flesh's reality.
...The problem is, reality has no respawn button if you die.
I rubbed my dry face and glared at my ordinary reflection.
Nah, no way. I'm an Academy admit for hunter training—stamina can't really be 1. There's gotta be some game-logic leeway.
Yeah, let's test it. Lightly... super lightly...
I swallowed hard and raised my right hand. Then pinched my left cheek ever so gently, like stroking a kid's cheek.
Pinch—
"...Gahhhh!!"
Insane! No exaggeration—a horrific pain like my flesh was being torn by pliers slammed my brain.
Just a slight tug on skin, and tears welled up.
"Haa... fuck, it's really 1."
Clutching my swelling red cheek, I panted roughly. Confirmed. My body was weaker than a newborn slime—perfect HP 1, dying to a brush.
But it wasn't all despair. If that brutal handicap crossed over, the overwhelming perks must have too.
Right. Durability like paper, sure—but perks-wise, I'm a historic munchkin right now.
I'd cleared the game without getting hit much anyway.
"...Might not be a big deal. If a lethal blow comes, just parry it like always."
Knock knock—
As I forced positivity and solidified my resolve—
A sudden knock echoed from the dorm door.
"Huh? Who's that?"
I paused rubbing my throbbing cheek.
I'd just enrolled and unpacked. This was the boys' dorm too.
No acquaintances in this world to visit me.
Dorm supervisor? Or a lost freshman?
With mild curiosity, I left the bathroom, still rubbing my swollen cheek, and pulled open the front door without a second thought.
Click—
"Who is... huh?"
White hallway lights flooded in as the door opened.
And silhouetted against that light stood an unwelcome guest, leaving me speechless.
Skin so pale it bordered on ghostly. Dark purple hair cascading neatly over her Academy uniform in stark contrast.
A mismatched beauty in the boys' dorm.
But it wasn't just her stunning looks that grabbed me.
Seol Eunha?
I'd know that face anywhere.
She'd graduate the Academy later with the title of Sword Saint—a total outlier talent freak.
"Found you, Yoo Dohyun."
A flat, toneless voice.
Cool purple eyes pierced straight through me, devoid of any emotion.
I shook my frozen brain and stammered in confusion.
"Uh... you— I mean, what brings you here? This is the boys' dorm. How'd you even know my room?"
Didn't the supervisor stop her? And how'd she know my name and room anyway?
I fired off questions without breathing, but Seol Eunha's expression didn't waver. She stated it plainly, like reciting a fact.
"I checked every door on the first floor of the boys' dorm. Until you came out."
"...What?"
Uh... psycho?
...Wasn't she this kind of character originally?
"How did you even know about m—"
"I saw your test earlier."
Seol Eunha's gaze locked straight on my eyes. Her face was still expressionless, but a faint hunger laced her voice.
"That ferocious barrage from Professor Cha Yura—batting it all away with a wooden sword that didn't even have aura."
"Ah."
Then it clicked. She'd been in the dome arena stands, mixed with other examinees, watching my practical.
But questions remained.
What did seeing that have to do with hunting me down at night in the boys' dorm?
"So? Seeing my test and coming here—what's the connection...?"
"I'm hooked."
"...Huh?"
Before I finished, Seol Eunha pressed forward.
"The pinnacle of pure swordsmanship, without even aura. I'm hooked on your swordsmanship."
"......"
"Teach it to me too."
Huh?
I'm a one-trick parry guy?