The Prodigy and the Commoner
The entrance exam for Union Academy was split into two parts: one in the morning, one in the afternoon.
The written exam in the morning. The practical exam in the afternoon.
Of the two, the written exam—where large groups of applicants tested together at once—tended to wrap up relatively quickly.
After all, it existed purely to filter out the ones who couldn't even manage the basics, the ones who were literally below the minimum standard.
Which meant the difficulty was easy enough that anyone who studied even a little could answer nearly every question correctly.
"Ugh, I'm screwed. I didn't understand a single thing. What do I do?"
"How do you not know any of this? What have you even been doing? Are you seriously the same person I came here with?"
Yes, people like those two, for example.
Maybe it was because I'd transmigrated into a Korean game, but since the language here was entirely Korean, there wouldn't be many people who couldn't read.
Still, if someone walked out of an exam this easy with a reaction like that, then no matter how good they were in the practical, I'd have to assume they were finished.
Of course, I did just fine myself.
My head wasn't half bad to begin with, and besides, these were questions I couldn't possibly get wrong—I'd mastered every scrap of the game's lore.
"Attention, all applicants. The practical examination scheduled for this afternoon will begin at 1 PM. All applicants are requested to proceed individually to..."
"Might as well grab something to eat first."
Tuning out the announcement cutting through the noisy corridor, I set off to fill my growling stomach.
With so many applicants, the practical exam would run from 1 PM straight into the night, so I'd need to prepare myself if I was going to last.
I began wandering in search of a suitable dining hall.
The Levenstein Ducal House.
A renowned ducal house of the Rayon Empire—the empire widely regarded as holding the strongest hegemony on the continent—and a family whose fame as a lineage of the sword stretched back through the ages.
Every century it produced swordmasters whose names shook the continent; its prestige needed no explanation in words.
"Welcome in! Wel... come!"
And the eldest daughter of that illustrious house—Seria Levenstein.
"Hello."
"Y-yes, of course!"
At this moment, she was stepping into one of Union Academy's many dining establishments.
Deep navy hair that gleamed with a lustrous sheen, clearly well cared for.
Clothing that looked expensive at a glance, and a sword at her hip.
A height perfectly suited for a woman, and a figure that was both lithe and balanced, with curves exactly where they should be.
And to top it all off, a striking beauty that made her seem as if she were operating in an entirely different atmosphere from the clamoring crowd around her.
The moment she appeared, radiating an air that clearly warned against any careless approach, the server stiffened rigidly in place.
"Hmm..."
Paying the frozen server no mind whatsoever, she scanned the room and strode purposefully toward an open table.
"Isn't that her? The Levenstein girl enrolling this year?"
"Watch your mouth, calling her 'that girl.'"
"They say her achievements at her age are extraordinary."
"Of course. She's a leading candidate for top of the Swordsmanship Department."
"Leading candidate? Please. It's practically a done deal. If anything, she might be gunning for top of the entire academy."
Murmur, murmur.
Her mere entrance sent the already boisterous dining hall into an even greater commotion.
Ignoring the chatter directed at her, she surveyed the room for a moment before making her way toward a vacant seat.
"...Hm?"
Then, as if she'd noticed something, she paused mid-step.
Where her gaze had landed, a boy with ash-grey hair sat at a table.
Sharp, cat-like eyes, and a sword strapped at his waist.
But it wasn't his appearance that had captured her attention.
His presence...
He was sitting there like anyone else, but unable to fully contain his spirit, a sharp energy was quietly bleeding out of him.
And unlike the presence of the ordinary people around him, there was something mixed into his energy that she had never felt before.
He must have a special ability.
She could tell, because her senses had been unusually sharp since childhood.
Those who radiated such distinctive energy when they failed to suppress it were, in most cases, bearers of rare abilities that ordinary people simply didn't possess.
And the vast majority of such people eventually soared like dragons.
Looks like the Swordsmanship Department...
She committed his appearance to memory.
It was a face she didn't recognize, so he was quite likely a commoner, yet somehow, she found herself thinking that it had to be so.
Huh?
Then another detail caught her eye.
-174
The application number pinned to his chest.
She lowered her gaze slightly, looking down at the number on the upper curve of her own chest: -173.
The practical exam is... five people at a time, I believe.
For the written exam there had been no assigned seats, so this was her first time seeing him.
But the practical exam was said to proceed in numerical order—which meant, given those numbers, the two of them would be testing together.
Nothing's certain yet, but...
Recruit exceptional commoners into the family.
It was one of the main reasons most noble children attended the Academy in the first place.
Her curiosity piqued for no particular reason, she reminded herself of that fact to justify her actions as she approached him.
"Hello."
"...Huh? Ah, hello there... to you too?"
A belated greeting.
Apparently his mind had been somewhere else, because his reaction came a beat late, and the greeting that followed carried an unmistakable trace of fluster.
"Judging by that reaction... I take it you know who I am?"
At that, the young man's eyes rolled for a moment—click, click—before he answered with a smile.
"Haha, of course. How could I possibly fail to recognize the daughter of the illustrious House Levenstein?"
Hmm.
First check: passed.
The Academy preached equality, but she liked the prudence of him using honorifics when her enrollment wasn't even confirmed yet.
"Then I'm honored. May I ask your name?"
"Of course. I'm Lucian Peyote."
Lucian Peyote...
Peyote—wasn't that the name of a cactus with hallucinogenic properties?
She knew, because she had a deep interest in plants.
A commoner, then.
At the same moment, she was certain of it.
No noble family would carry a surname quite that bizarre.
Fully loosening the last thread of caution she'd held onto just in case, Seria asked with a touch of curiosity.
"Nice to meet you, Lucian. I noticed your application number, and you seem like a rather interesting person. May I sit next to you?"
"It would be my honor to have you by my side, my lady."
"Fufu, that's kind of you to say."
For a commoner, he spoke remarkably elegantly.
Where on earth had he learned that?
His tidy appearance and looks, the way he clearly aimed for proper decorum despite whatever shortcomings he might have—there wasn't a single thing that didn't earn a passing mark.
...So this is how it's done in front of nobles, right...?
Unbeknownst to her, the Lucian in question was quietly sweating on the inside.
The Duchess's daughter of Levenstein...
Lucian studied her as she demurely took the seat beside him, and remembered.
Seria Levenstein—the first limited-edition 5-star character ever released in Union Academy.
She was the original broken launch unit, the one that had drawn reactions like "she's powercreep incarnate," "they've finally lost their minds chasing money," and "I can see the endgame cash grab coming from a mile away."
More than a full year after her release, she still showed zero intention of stepping down from the meta—a straight-up busted character.
And because of that, every last detail of her kit remained crisp and vivid in Lucian's memory.
She displayed extraordinary talent from childhood and carried the family's expectations on her shoulders. She wields swift, rapid-fire swordplay built around speed, and her ability is...
Severance.
An ability that infused her weapon with mana of a special property, cutting through everything it touched without the slightest resistance.
Any swordsman worth their salt had to pour massive investment into Strength to deal damage—but thanks to her ability, Seria needed none of that. She could unload absurd, unfair burst damage on anyone, equally, without breaking a sweat.
Bonus: with nothing sunk into Strength, she could pump her other stats to freakish heights, which was exactly why players had been howling about her since launch day.
Back then, Lucian had stubbornly low-spent, failed to pull her in the end, and ended up beating the ground in regret.
She was such a famous character in Union Academy that he knew her design inside and out, so recognizing her at a glance was easy.
Still, I never expected to run into her like this.
Lucian watched as she calmly placed her order.
Ah.
So that was why she'd mentioned the numbers—her gaze had naturally drifted to his chest, and there it was: 173.
Did she come over because our numbers lined up?
The explanation was thin, but hey, her curiosity must've gotten the better of her. Fine, whatever.
He let it go. It wasn't anything important. If anything, it was pure luck for him.
Having connections with nobles inside the Academy is never a bad thing.
The developers had preached endlessly about making every limited character a born aristocrat, pumping them out one after another—until they finally caved and released a limited commoner.
Lucian was one of them.
Born-commoner characters could technically use an item before starting Story Mode to begin as nobles, but Lucian had transmigrated with no such item, so he was a commoner, full stop.
No matter how loudly the Academy chanted "no discrimination by status!", unless you possessed overwhelming ability, commoners were bound to be looked down on.
And the rarest specimens of all—the ones with no brains—looked down on you even with ability, so backing was always welcome.
A pumpkin just rolled right into my lap, vine and all, huh?
Steadying his pounding heart, Lucian began plotting exactly how he'd work her over.
Starting as a commoner character triggered occasional events where you crossed paths with noble characters like this, so he had a decent grasp of the counter-strategies.
"Lucian."
"Yes?"
He'd been racking his brain over what to say when she spoke first.
Thinking this actually worked out better, Lucian inclined his ear.
"Lucian... what kind of ability do you have?"
"I beg your pardon?"
And at the question that popped out of nowhere, he found himself echoing it back before he could stop himself.
Staring at the strange smile hanging at the corner of her mouth, Lucian thought to himself:
This girl?
Asking a complete stranger about their ability right off the bat was rude.
Commoner or noble aside, to Lucian—a product of twenty-first-century South Korea's egalitarian society, military service included—it was just plain ridiculous.
True, everyone eventually learned everyone else's abilities through Academy life, but hardly anyone asked like this on a first meeting.
...Well, she doesn't seem to mean any harm.
And yet.
He suddenly found himself disinclined to just hand it over. Lucian decided to come at it from a slightly crooked angle.
With sheltered young ladies who'd grown up stifled by their families, this kind of thing landed surprisingly often.
"Haha. For the presumptive top scorer of the incoming class to already count me among the admitted—why, I'm deeply honored."
You do realize blurting out a stranger's ability like that is a mistake born of equal parts flattery and curiosity, right?
"But if I simply tell you outright, where's the fun in that?"
And then—
"It's an ability you'll come to know naturally as we live side by side anyway. How about you guess it yourself, my lady?"
I don't feel like telling you?
Figure it out yourself.
The moment Lucian finished speaking, the duchess's daughter—who had been listening across the table with a blank expression—moved her face.
The lips that had been sealed in silent refusal curled faintly upward.
Confirming the sight, Lucian's own mouth curled up into a matching grin.
Even a casual glance made it obvious.
Nailed it.
The strategy had gone down smooth as silk.
Which meant, all things considered, Academy life was shaping up to be a smooth ride.