Dungeon Practice (5)
Dungeon Practice (5)
The situation was cleaned up in a flash by that impromptu (Strengthened) Mana Strike.
One of the two remaining 7th-Rank Green Ghosts had its arm severed and lay sprawled out; the other had just lost its head.
After that, not many 8th-Rank Green Ghosts remained, so Attila and Nam Yeon-jung—who had snapped back to attention—methodically mopped them up.
Everyone looked like they had questions, but Attila insisted we rest only after reaching base camp, so they all swallowed whatever they wanted to ask.
We cut off Green Ghost ears as proof, rummaged through the trashed village for the mana crystals and assorted usable things the goblins had hoarded—and the whole time, the stares on the back of my head were unbearable.
Especially the dumbfounded look on Ellia's face. She'd been right next to me and got absolutely coated in the afterwash of the strike along with a face full of dust. That was the highlight.
...I should apologize once we're back at camp.
On the way back through that weird atmosphere, I also grabbed every patch of mana grass I spotted. Honestly, it's barely more than weeds soaked in mana, so there were piles of it.
Thanks to that, we finished our mana-grass quota on the return trip.
"Ha-yul! What the heck was that just now!"
And so we made it to base camp. Everyone tidied themselves up more or less, then sat in a ring around the egg-shaped heating magic tool.
Ellia spoke first. She'd wiped off all the dirt and dust, her pretty face uncovered, and she looked genuinely worked up.
"You said it was lowest-grade... in what world was that lowest-grade?"
"I wanted to ask the same thing."
Attila, looking tired beside her, chimed in. Apparently beating the tar out of Green Ghosts had helped her vent some stress, but now she was a little worn out.
"I figured, sure, it's around lowest grade, it wouldn't really matter—then suddenly that thing came flying out of nowhere and scared the hell out of me."
Nam Yeon-jung, who'd been quietly inspecting his spear, gave a silent nod. I remembered his calm expression collapsing into alarm the moment the strike flew past.
[I'm sorry. I didn't know it would come out like that either.]
The wording was polite enough, but the substance was: if that had actually hit us, things could've gone really wrong.
I couldn't argue back, so I just ducked my head. I'd been shocked stupid myself—Attila and Nam Yeon-jung, who'd had that strike fly right past them, must have been way more startled.
"It's fine. The trajectory was totally different anyway... still, not being told beforehand, I couldn't help but be startled."
Attila rubbed her arms and muttered that it had seriously given her chills. My shoulders slumped even further.
The trajectory, of course I'd calculated it. Even if it's lowest-grade magic, it's still an attack—I'm not some lunatic who'd slam one into a squadmate.
The problem was, I had no idea the power would come out like that. Even I was stunned by a blow far stronger than I'd imagined.
If it had actually struck Attila or Nam Yeon-jung... well, both of them had Body Reinforcement up and auras flared, so it probably wouldn't have caused a major injury, but it still makes my head spin.
If it had actually hit someone and that got factored into the evaluation... my grade would've cratered straight into the abyss.
A chill crawled up my spine. I might've watched my grades go into freefall. My shoulders trembled faintly.
I've been listening to theory lectures so diligently... listening like my life depends on it in case I get expelled...
[This is just an excuse, but when I used it yesterday it didn't have anywhere near this much power.]
"The power changed in a single day?"
Ellia, who'd been pouting about getting covered in dust, tilted her head. She knew her magic—was this really that strange to her?
"It was Mana Strike, right? Did you modify the formula or something?"
[No, I cast it using the standard formula.]
"Then why? Is there a reason the power would spike that much...?"
I had nothing to tell Ellia as she tilted her head. I was tangled up in the same question.
"Alright! Let's eat first. Thanks to Ha-yul, we've met all our conditions anyway, right?"
When the conversation started dragging, Attila changed the subject.
Reaching Point A and securing the marker.
Normally we'd have spent time hunting for it, but I'd located it in one go, saving us the trouble.
Green Ghost subjugation.
It's the lowest-rated Grade 4 dungeon, sure, but that doesn't mean it's small enough to dismiss. We'd have needed time to search for a Green Ghost village, but between my Spatial Perception and some luck, we found one fast and wiped it out.
Mana-grass collection, the easiest one of all. We gathered everything on the way back after clearing the village.
Checking the time, it was just about time to settle dinner. The sunlight that had been illuminating the ground had vanished without a trace, and the orange glow of the heating magic tool in the center stood out.
We all huddled together in the middle of camp and took care of dinner.
"...It tastes better than I expected."
"Still worse than eating outside."
Dinner was ready-to-eat rations. Stuff that would be classified as combat rations, strictly speaking.
Looking them over, the menu wasn't actually that shabby. I've never been in the military so I wouldn't know, but at the very least it wasn't the kind of thing you'd fling aside yelling about how bad it was.
Ellia, who'd taken a spoonful of pound cake and wore a cryptic expression as she evaluated it, made Attila crack a smile while she heated up her own rations.
He'd said he had dungeon-conquest experience at the academy, so apparently he'd run into combat rations like these plenty of times before.
"I was the same way at first. It's not inedible the way you vaguely imagine... but it's the kind of taste you'd never go out of your way to eat."
"This stuff's way too heavily seasoned for me."
"Look who's talking, you mutt-tongued brat. You'll inhale anything anyone puts in front of you."
Aiden, who was also unwrapping a combat ration beside them, grumbled.
I don't know anything about the military, but I do know that combat rations in general are designed for long shelf life and high calorie counts.
And combat rations meant for superhumans—who burn through energy several times faster than an ordinary person at minimum—are even higher in calories.
Hence the complaint about heavy seasoning, apparently. I noted Ellia chewing at a peculiarly slow pace, then took a bite of pound cake.
...
"How is it for you, Ha-yul?"
[It's bad.]
Ellia nodded along in agreement with my answer.
Dinner passed in a fairly harmonious atmosphere.
"Attila, your aura color's unusual. Normally it's blue—mine's blue too."
"Mine's been red since I first manifested it. Probably got influenced by my unique ability, I guess."
Ellia, maxed out on social skills as always, had already dropped formal speech with Attila and was chatting away. Attila didn't seem put off by her either—she was actively bantering with her.
"Think about the reach. Generally if a sword and a spear fight, the spear obviously has the advantage."
"What does that little bit of reach matter to a superhuman? It's a distance you can close in a heartbeat. If anything, a sword is more advantageous because its shorter reach makes it easier to handle."
"I don't think you're in a position to say that, considering you lost by exactly that one breath last time..."
"Tch."
Nam Yeon-jung and Aiden were debating which was superior, the spear or the sword. I've seen that one on the internet. People arguing day in and day out about whether the sword is stronger or the spear is stronger.
Back on Earth, the conclusion still leaned "the spear has the advantage," but maybe it's different here.
From the looks of it, everyone had paired off into conversations, so it felt like I was a bit on my own, but I did chip in now and then.
Still, it's true I was talking less than the others. I quietly finished off my pound cake and was nibbling on a chocolate bar.
"...Hey, Ha-yul, mind if I ask you something?"
That's when Attila spoke to me. During a lull in her conversation with Ellia, she'd glanced this way a couple of times before finally asking.
[Yes?]
"Special Admission. Honestly, there's something I've been kind of curious about."
The mention of Special Admission drew everyone's attention. As I tilted my head, Attila scratched her head for a moment.
"It's not that I want to know anything specific, I'm just curious how it happened. More precisely... I guess I'm curious about the selection process..."
"Fair enough."
Attila smiled a little sheepishly. Nam Yeon-jung, who'd been expounding the greatness of the spear beside her, chimed in.
"It wouldn't have been a test like General Admission, and I heard it wasn't like Recommended Admission either, where they demonstrate potential before the faculty. I understand it was purely chosen at the headmaster's will... but the process hasn't been disclosed."
Curiosity tinged Nam Yeon-jung's eyes as he finished. The others were the same. They were pretending otherwise, but apparently the Special Admission selection process intrigued them.
[I don't really know either.]
"You don't know?"
[No.]
But I didn't have anything to offer either.
[Someone just showed up one day and notified me. That's about it.]
More precisely, I really don't know. I did receive the Siyoram admission package, but the enrollment would've been finalized before that.
But I have no memory of anything before that. In the original story, it starts inside Siyoram.
I also thought of Special Admission as a device set up to let the player play smoothly. I never thought there'd be some special significance.
"...Notified?"
Nam Yeon-jung blinked as if he'd heard something bizarre. The others listening beside him did the same.
I bit into my chocolate bar again and sank into thought.
'Special Admission...'
One of the admission systems of Siyoram, founded by Neriel Claidia, Tower Master of Growth... but in the original work it was just a convenience device for the player, nothing more.
A kind of MacGuffin, you could say. Even as the main story progressed, the detailed setting around Special Admission never got unpacked.
The Special Admission Cadet... and the headmaster who selected the player were the same.
No matter how far you pushed the main story, the headmaster never showed their face once.
Across multiple playthroughs, even while the world was getting ripped to shreds, the Tower Master of Growth never revealed themselves. In the 11th Iteration, I even half-destroyed Siyoram, and it was the same then too.
'......'
Come to think of it, that's not all.
The Tower Master of Growth didn't show up even while their own Cradle was being destroyed.
In the playthrough where I wrecked the Association, the Tower Master of Harmonization and the Tower Master of Space didn't appear either.
The Tower Master of Observation and the one other hidden Tower Master were the same.
Even as everything they'd built crumbled, they didn't show themselves.
Tower of Growth.
Tower of Harmonization.
Tower of Space.
Tower of Observation.
And the one tower currently hidden.
The Tower Masters who rule those Five Towers. The key figures who quelled the age of chaos in the past, and the pillars sustaining the current world order.
'I don't actually know a damn thing about any of them.'
A bleak feeling. Right now I'm supposed to be worrying about how to scrape by day to day—what does the secret history of the world have to do with me?
My head was a mess.
I let out a small sigh and bit into my chocolate bar.
Chewing while dredging up old memories... it's actually pretty decent.
.
.
.
Lowest-Grade Magic
「Mana Strike」
—KWA-GEUK!
A gust surged up and leaves scattered on the wind. The launched strike cleaved a large boulder clean in two. Then it slammed into the earth, carving a fairly deep scar into the ground.
After dinner, I'd come a short distance from camp to experiment with magic. We'd already met our conditions, and there was plenty of time left, so it was doable.
'...What the hell.'
I ran my hand over the boulder with a bewildered expression. The cross-section of the split rock was remarkably clean.
'The power went up.'
The size of the Mana Strike I'd tested over the weekend was roughly 0.3 Lee Ha-yuls, give or take. Smaller than a Green Ghost, which came up past my waist.
And the Mana Strike fired in the village just a while ago was around 2.5 Lee Ha-yuls.
Its simple length exceeded twice my height, and its thickness was considerable too. It wasn't just the size that changed—the raw power climbed as well.
Right now, my Mana Strike is... 1 Lee Ha-yul? Weaker than in the village, but clearly stronger than the weekend's strike.
Even for the same spell, its power varies with the caster's skill. That's an obvious fact.
A high mage's Fireball and an apprentice mage's Fireball couldn't possibly be the same.
'Haah...'
Can I even apply that to my current situation? A spell cast by the same person, not someone else? And without any sort of realm breakthrough—it just sat for a day or two and the power rose on its own?
There must be a reason. There's a result, so a cause exists. The problem is I don't know what that cause is.
'Augh...'
My head hurts...
I clutched my skull at the throbbing headache.
'Spatial Perception?'
My Spatial Perception grew when I entered the dungeon. Its sheer range expanded several times over, and its information analysis got more precise.
Is that influencing my magic? By what principle? Enough to make the power of a spell jump like this?
"Ahem..."
While I was clutching my head and groaning, the sound of a throat clearing reached me. Echoing in the fairly quiet forest, it felt disproportionately loud.
The sudden cough made me turn around.
A short distance away, Aiden was looking this way with a hesitant air.
No matter how much I can grasp my surroundings through detection, Aiden had tagged along to cover any unexpected situations.
In a place like this, moving in pairs at minimum is just common sense.
Ever since we'd met at the café, Aiden had carried this kind of awkward, hesitant demeanor.
Even in the dungeon, he'd repeatedly start to say something to me and then clam back up.
When I'd stood up to do magic testing and he'd volunteered to follow, I'd already guessed he had something to say.
"...I have something to say."
He began with a palpably tense air. When I nodded for him to go on, Aiden's face firmed up, like he'd steeled himself, and he continued.
"About the sparring session last time—I'm truly sorry."
"?"
Out of nowhere?
That was unexpected. My head tilted sideways.
"I've always had a short temper and made rash decisions... no, I'm sorry. That was an excuse."
He'd been speaking fine and then suddenly cut himself off. Aiden's expression twisted into a scowl and he abruptly lowered his head.
"I was blinded by petty jealousy, thought it over poorly, and challenged you to a spar. It was a decision made without any consideration for how a sparring match would land for you, Lee Ha-yul, or what effect it might have."
I'm truly sorry.
An apology delivered with a bowed head. I felt thoroughly bewildered.
The sudden apology threw me off, and the fact that he even felt the need to apologize for that threw me off even more.
I tapped Aiden on the shoulder a couple of times while he was bent at a right angle, then tapped my smartwatch.
[It's fine. It wasn't something worth apologizing for in the first place.]
During the spar, Aiden had looked displeased, sure, but I also remembered seeing a question in his eyes—'Is this really right?'—a doubt aimed at himself.
If there'd been clear malice, that'd be different. That level of behavior was nothing.
I nudged Aiden along as he kept bowing his head over and over, and started walking back toward camp.
Aiden blinked a few times, then cautiously read the mood and took the lead.
—sabak-sabak
We crossed through the forest, now dark with the sun gone. As I moved my legs in a daze, Aiden's words from moments ago resurfaced.
—Blinded by petty jealousy...
Jealousy... the feeling of resenting someone else.
'......'
I understood Aiden's emotions, if only a little. And I know the emotion of jealousy very well.
When I'm living like this and wonder why that person gets to live so well.
When I wonder what I did so wrong to end up in this sorry state, yet why that bastard gets to coast along on success like he's done everything right.
How utterly shitty life feels when jealousy swells.
How miserable an emotion it is.
I know that all too well.