The Sword Saint's Granddaughter
Her fame as the Sword Saint's granddaughter far surpassed her own name. She was definitely one of the teammates I wanted to work with in this practical combat class.
If we were talking pure combat ability alone, she had the strength to be called the strongest freshman. Her entrance exam placement said it all—she'd taken third. Her score was nearly identical to Tana's.
On top of that, she had the Sword Saint's connections. If I built up a relationship with her through team activities like this, there was a chance I could call in a favor someday.
In that sense...
“Ah, I'm so jealous.”
“How the hell did the top student and Cheon Yu-ha end up on the same team?”
“I should've been on that team.”
The other cadets' envious stares were pouring straight toward Kang Seok. Most of them knew he'd been knocked out cold by me in a single hit, so they kept their comments to themselves. Still, the jealousy in their eyes was impossible to hide.
It made sense. The guy was currently teamed up with the freshman ranked first and third.
He seemed aware of that fact too. His body trembled faintly, but he didn't let it show. If it were me, I'd be doing cartwheels in the air. Kid's got some serious self-control.
Well, Kang Seok wouldn't be a problem. I'd already trained him properly beforehand. My real concern was Cheon Yu-ha.
The cadets shooting him those envious looks probably had no idea.
That Cheon Yu-ha was an extremely socially inept human being.
The Sword Saint had raised her with obsessive care, but at her core, she was an efficiency-obsessed machine. What that meant was this: when fighting a boss, she ignored party play entirely. She'd dodge patterns on her own and take it down solo.
Ask her why?
Because that's more efficient.
That was the end of the discussion.
As a party member, it was enough to drive anyone insane. But the most infuriating part was that you couldn't even argue with her. Because the way she fought was the most efficient.
Her strategies, born from overwhelming power and observation, were difficult for ordinary people to replicate. But the fact that they were the fastest never changed. So no one could complain.
Therefore, the standard approach for dungeon runs or practical classes like this was to plan around excluding Cheon Yu-ha. She was an asymmetric force. If you let her run wild, she'd half-kill the boss by herself anyway. Best to just let her do whatever she wanted.
“Confirm your party's positions. We'll begin entry in order in three minutes.”
Unlike yesterday, Siren wore a sour expression as she checked the time. That was probably her default face. Yesterday's version had been the weird one.
I shifted my gaze to Kang Seok. The moment our eyes met, his body gave a small jolt. Like one of Pavlov's dogs—now just looking at him was enough to make him prepare for flight.
Yet he didn't actually run. He must have learned that running would only get him beaten. The other thugs had shown some rebellious spirit in their trembling, but this guy seemed different. I wasn't sure whether to view it negatively or consider it a good thing since I wouldn't have to worry about him acting out.
For now, it wasn't bad.
“Position? I know you're not a mage or archer.”
“I-I'm vanguard. Closer to a tank.”
Yeah, that tracked. With a body packed full of muscle like that, making him a mage would be straight-up cheating.
“Weapon?”
“I picked... a warhammer.”
A warhammer. Better than I'd expected.
It was far superior to those tanks who grabbed greatswords because they wanted to deal damage. With his build, swinging a hammer would be the most efficient form of attack.
After roughly confirming Kang Seok's role, I headed toward Cheon Yu-ha. Or rather, I tried to.
“......”
I hadn't even noticed her approach, but Cheon Yu-ha was already standing right beside me.
She looked up at me with those bright, sparkling eyes and asked, “What do I do?”
What?
Something was wrong here. Why was Cheon Yu-ha listening to me?
In the end, there wasn't actually a problem. If anything, this was more beneficial. The original plan I'd come up with had been based on her erratic movements anyway—a strategy so sloppy it barely deserved the name. Scrapping it was no loss.
But separate from that, Cheon Yu-ha actually following my instructions was completely unexpected.
In the game, she only started listening to the player in the mid-to-late stages. Or if you'd built up her favorability from the very beginning. After stacking up enough relationship points for her to decide it was acceptable, she'd finally listen to the player a little.
Either that, or she judged the player's method to be more efficient than her own.
In my case, it was probably...
The latter.
I'd never built any relationship with her. The odds were high that she'd simply determined my judgment was more efficient.
“It's ambiguous.”
Cheon Yu-ha. Her title was the Sword Saint's granddaughter, and she was also considered the next Sword Saint in line. Even if I could beat her now, there was no guarantee I'd be able to defeat her in the later stages. Her talent was overwhelming.
It was to the point that in the game, she was considered an absolute must-have party member. Her pure combat power was higher than anyone's—including the player. I'd usually brought her along in most of my playthroughs too.
Now that she was actually in my hands, though, it felt awkward trying to use her. Especially when you considered the high probability that this particular sword would leap out of control at any moment.
The reason she'd entrusted the decision to me was because she believed my conclusion would be more efficient. In other words, the moment she judged her own decision to be better, she could bolt at any time.
I stood there watching Cheon Yu-ha as she idly fiddled with her sword hilt. Her eyes were pitch black, yet they shone strangely like jewels. As if their darkness allowed them to capture light more brilliantly.
Every time she took a step, her long hair swayed and her elegant movements drew out the natural reaction: Of course it's Cheon Yu-ha.
She was self-willed, completely lacking in social skills, and if you removed her martial prowess, all that remained was a blunt personality. Seeing her like this instantly explained why a woman like her had been so popular.
Of course, removing her martial prowess didn't leave just her personality—her appearance was that exceptional.
Still, I wasn't about to stand there dazed by her looks.
We'd be entering soon anyway.
This practical combat class would affect our grades to some degree. Since the whole purpose was to train awakeners to enter dungeons, it would actually be strange if a class like this didn't count toward our scores.
In that sense, I had options. I could take Cheon Yu-ha and Kang Seok and aim for the top ranks. Or I could move at a moderate pace and settle for the mid-upper tier.
The lower ranks were impossible. Even if I did absolutely nothing, Cheon Yu-ha would carve through the monsters by herself. Plus, Siren would be focusing her observation on me. If I slacked off completely, she might deduct points on principle.
So I'd need to move enough to satisfy Siren's standards. And with Cheon Yu-ha on the team, that would naturally land us in the mid-upper ranks.
The real question was whether to settle for an ambiguous score or finish as quickly as possible.
I'll finish it as quickly as possible.
If I hadn't drawn so much attention already, the mid-upper ranks would've been fine. People would see 238th place performing at that level and think, Yeah, that was about what we expected.
Even if my rank somehow climbed to around 100th, with Cheon Yu-ha on the team they'd just say, Of course. He got on the rocket-boosted truck. They could accept that.
But if I was the rocket-boosted truck, the story changed completely.
Unlike someone with zero expectations, if I took the mid-upper ranks, those idiots would sneer: Even with a rocket booster, that's all he could manage? Recommend suicide.
That kind of slander—I couldn't stand it.
I'd already drawn all the attention there was to draw. Crashing and burning now would accomplish nothing. Since I'd gathered their eyes once, I'd keep them until the end.
“Lee Sungjin, Cheon Yu-ha, Kang Seok! Enter!”
At Siren's shout, the door before us opened. Puppet monsters were probably waiting inside. Their strength was set so that three people working together could defeat them.
They were different from the iron-horned bull during the entrance exam. That creature had been designed to be unbeatable. Cheon Yu-ha and I had broken the rules by taking it down.
In that sense, the monster waiting ahead of us wasn't particularly difficult.
The moment I stepped into the room, I quickly scanned the monster's appearance. A scrawny-looking goblin stood there holding a staff far larger than its body. Roughly twenty of its kin stood guard beside it.
“It's a goblin shaman.”
“Yeah.”
I nodded at Cheon Yu-ha's words. That oversized staff was the proof. It was one of the more annoying monster types, and of all things, we had to get this one.
The goblin shaman's own combat power wasn't particularly strong. The problem was the goblins surrounding it. Those strengthened by the shaman's power were boosted from their original F-rank all the way to E-rank. The more of them there were, the more of a headache they became.
There were twenty visible right now. Not exactly ideal for a time attack.
“Hey.”
“Y-yes?”
“How many do you think you can handle?”
When I asked Kang Seok, his eyes wavered. He stared at the goblins for a moment, then spread his palm wide.
“Five?”
“...Yeah.”
Five, huh. It wasn't that he couldn't do it. The fact that the guy ranked first's lackey could handle five shaman-enhanced goblins was actually pretty decent proof of his ability.
But “not bad” wasn't good enough.
“You take seven. I'll handle four plus the shaman.”
With that, I kicked Kang Seok hard in the ass. His eyes widened in shock as he flew straight toward the goblins.
Kirruk?
Seven goblins with bloodshot eyes glared at him.
You can do it. Fighting!