Major Earthquakes Always Have Foreshocks

Have you ever heard the story of Noah's Ark?

The Lord decreed that a world awash in sin would be judged by a great deluge, so Noah cried out for everyone to build an ark and flee to safety. The people laughed off his warnings, leaving Noah to die of pure, unadulterated stress—or so the tragic tale goes.

"Lady Orknodi. Please, can we take a break?"

"Honestly, Uncle Giselle. How can your stamina be worse than a sickly, delicate maiden like me?"

Yeah, right. As if every sickly girl in the country didn't just roll over in her grave.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Giselle glared at me with that exact thought written across his face, but he forced his boots forward out of sheer stubborn pride.

"Hey, runt," Son Ocheon barked, swinging his heavy arms. "What do we have to lose that's got us dragging our asses up a mountain?"

"Use your head. The testing ground is far too vast for the number of examinees. There's got to be a reason the terrain is this massive, don't you think?"

To tell the truth, my mind was an absolute mess right now. A fifty-fifty blend of Noah's terminal frustration and the agonizing torment of the royal barber dying to scream that the king has donkey ears! At least within this entire arena, not a single soul was shouldering an agony heavier than mine.

"Well, those bastards trailing behind us don't look like they share your opinion in the slightest," Son Ocheon grunted.

Two hours had passed since the start of the exam, and the examinees had broadly split into three distinct behaviors.

"We should've just beaten the crap out of the guys setting up down below and chased them out."

First were the Large Alliance and the Absolute Dominators, who had staked their claims right at the foot of the mountain.

"Oho, look at them stack! They're actually stacking!"

"Are you bastards crazy?! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Whoops, tossed a pebble and down it goes! Mad? Wanna fight? Too bad we've got the numbers and the muscle, suckers! Kahaha!"

"That's it, I'm gonna lose my shit! Hey, let's throw down!"

Second was the clash of skill on the mountain slopes between the Small Alliance camped on the ridges and the blatantly griefing Troll Mob.

"Hey, look at that squinty-eyed bastard over there. Isn't that the cocky swordsman who was acting all high and mighty yesterday?"

"Let's get him."

"Bastard sure picked a gravesite far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠away, didn't he? Well, no matter where he runs, he's dead meat after daring to cross the Southern Seven Castles Lord Coalition."

And third were the Fugitives, who had fled or been chased out from below to hide deep within the mountain crags, along with the Pursuers hunting them down to thin out the competition.

That was undoubtedly how everyone else saw the situation. However, this game featured a fourth faction that ordinary people failed to recognize.

"You crazy lunatics! How far are you gonna run?!"

"Just stop and fight, you bastards!"

The Mountaineering Group, so utterly devoted to the hike that their pursuers were dropping from exhaustion just trying to keep up. Namely, the genius pretty girl Orknodi and her two lackeys.

"Hey, runt, aren't they underestimating us a bit too much?"

"Hmph. You're the beastman drawing all the aggro, Uncle!"

"Now, now," Giselle intervened smoothly. "Wasting your breath only drains your stamina faster. Here, let us tide ourselves over with this as we climb."

This merchant certainly ate well. This was exactly why one had to maintain close ties with wealthy merchants!

Skill EXP shot up steadily from the grueling ascent. If not for that brutal month of hardcore grinding to raise my base stats and proficiencies, I would have ended up wheezing on the ground just like the pursuer group collapsing down below. Anyone with less stamina than a sickly, delicate maiden like me seriously needed to engage in some deep self-reflection.

"Even if we built our tower right this second, we'd still have tons of time left," I said, chewing happily. "Why don't we just stroll along the ridge and scout out a nice spot?"

"Look at how relaxed the little runt is," Son Ocheon chuckled, shaking his head. "With guts like that, you're no field mouse—you're a bloody Tyrannosaurus rex."

For the record, dinosaurs actually existed in the deepest corners of this game's continent. A Tyrannosaurus could tear an ogre limb from limb.

As we ambled along the upper mountain trail, the wheezing pursuers finally scrambled up and barred our way.

"Pant, gasp... We... finally... caught you... wheeze..."

"You... you little... sons of... bitches..."

"I swear... you're... dead...!"

These poor sods looked like they were on the verge of suffocating on their own tongues.

"So what? Wanna throw down?" Son Ocheon asked, not showing the slightest hint of fatigue as he spun his heavy staff in one hand. The ferocious whoosh of displaced air sent a shudder through the pursuers, their earlier bravado instantly wilting under the menacing hum of the weapon.

"Ha! Bastards like this holding the same Gold Ticket as me? Isn't this an absolute scam?"

Honestly, even from my perspective, the disparity in skill was glaring. Son Ocheon had simply suffered terrible luck with his proctor. If his trial had been boulder-shattering or martial sparring instead of High Examiner Mihael's ingredient-gathering test, his raw physical specs alone would have comfortably earned him a Platinum Ticket and then some. In contrast, the standard examiners possessed far more forgiving standards and simpler criteria. They had likely handed out Gold Tickets like party favors.

"Don't you dare lump us in with them!" a sharp voice barked.

"Oho. Looks like at least one of you has some backbone."

From among the heaving pursuers, a young woman wearing an explorer's hat with goggles pushed up onto the brim leveled an accusing finger at Son Ocheon and me.

"Our Esonia Adventurer Party was always short on personnel for long-term expeditions, so we had no choice but to hire outsiders!" she cried, her voice cracking with fury. "And because of an accident caused by brats and beastmen just like you, we failed a vital expedition—and half our members, including our leader, died! Do you have any idea how miserable it felt to watch our party collapse, only to be shoved out by the veterans and told to go live new lives because we were young?!"

A survivor from a fallen adventurer party, was she? Quite a respectable backstory for an extra.

"Vengeance is far better than dragging around an unwanted burden!" she yelled, her fists trembling. "Just like the brat and the beastman who ruined our party, this time, we're going to ruin people like you!"

Well, sure, her tragic circumstances were valid enough.

But why take it out on us?

"If you want to vent your anger, go take it out on the bastards responsible," Son Ocheon said bluntly. "Why the hell are you throwing a tantrum at total strangers?"

"The bastards who caused it are already dead!"

"Then does this innocent little runt deserve to get dragged into someone else's mess? Just like you lot got screwed over by some idiot outsider?"

Beastmen possessed human intellect alongside keen animal instincts. Because of that dual nature, they often had a knack for striking right at the heart of the matter. And that unfiltered, piercing directness frequently provoked intense hostility in humans struggling to conceal their own weaknesses.

"Then who else are we supposed to vent to?!" she shrieked, tears welling in her eyes as she stamped her foot like a child. "We didn't do anything wrong either!"

Watching her throw a childish tantrum brought an abrupt realization.

The qualification limit for the academy entrance exam was under twenty years of age. Even if she had operated as an active adventurer at a young age, in the end, she was still an immature child. Mature in body, yet a child at heart—the exact opposite of me, a grown adult mind trapped inside an immature frame.

"Grab on," I said, tossing a thick coil of rope at her feet.

The woman stood frozen in place, entirely failing to comprehend what I had done.

An instant later, the mountain began to rumble.

It was the foreshock—the subtle preliminary tremor preceding a catastrophic earthquake, which Orknodi's hyper-sensitive body had detected long before anyone else. Right behind it came the main shock, tearing through the peak with violent force and tossing our vision violently up and down.

A rocky crag that held traces of animal habitats, yet housed not a single living beast. Nothing remained here but loose stone and jagged shale. The hidden trap of the First Gate, completely missed by those lacking vigilance, descended in full fury.

Cascading soil and shattered shale ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tore away from the cliffs. The very mountain seemed to dissolve under our feet. Having already identified the safest bedrock formation ahead of time, I anchored ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the rope securely to the stone and gestured frantically for Giselle and Son Ocheon to take hold.

Rumble, screech!

Crashhhhh!

Far below on the slopes, a landslide of terrifying proportions swept down, growing exponentially as it engulfed the muscle-headed fools and lazy examinees who had complacently relied on sheer numbers. It was a disaster that would have swallowed our pursuers—the young blood of the Esonia Adventurer Party—had they lagged behind for even a second longer.

Patter, clatter.

Thud.

After the rolling aftershocks finally passed, the shattered mountain slowly regained its quiet.

Clinging desperately to the rope, the remnants of the Esonia Adventurer Party dragged themselves up onto the solid ridge, their faces drained of color and their eyes wide with shock.

"They're insane..." the female leader whispered, her voice trembling violently. "Triggering a landslide in an exam arena?! If we got caught in that, we would've died instantly!"

"This is the continent's greatest academy," I replied calmly. "It's an exam designed to cherry-pick the absolute pinnacle of talent. Wouldn't anyone who honestly believed this was just about stacking rocks be a little too naive?"

"You think talking pretty makes it okay?! Our leader died in a landslide too, and—!"

Her face smeared with dirt, she opened her mouth to scream more protests, but her words died in her throat as her gaze locked onto my hands.

Ow, stingy.

Because so many heavy bodies had dangled from the cord, the friction of the coarse hemp rope had scraped my small hands raw, leaving them slick with bright crimson blood.

"You... your hands..." The young leader's pupils quivered violently as she stared at the bleeding flesh. "You held onto the rope until your hands ended up like that?"

Her voice cracked with sheer disbelief.

"We said such horrible things to you... You must have hated the sight of us and wanted nothing more than to see us disqualified. Why on earth would you...?"

Well, there were plenty of reasons.

In a world like this, any character burdened with a tragic, specific backstory had an overwhelmingly high chance of being a pivotal figure in this story arc. Even if they failed the entrance exam, they almost always returned later down the line as full-fledged villains. Trying to wipe out a future villain at the root by letting them die was an utter fool's errand.

Hadn't she said it herself?

They were the "young blood" of the Esonia Adventurer Party. Out there beyond the gates, the "veterans" of the party still lived. Veterans who already harbored deep-seated grudges against children and beastmen, yet held immense love for their younger companions. If word reached those grizzled survivors that their precious juniors had died, was there any realistic chance they wouldn't turn into vengeful villains?

You can never hastily judge where an earthquake truly ends—or whether a minor tremor is merely the foreshock heralding a far greater catastrophe.

In the context of this exam, people would naturally assume the light ground rumbling was the foreshock and the landslide was the main quake. But looking back years from now, the death of these young members of the Esonia Adventurer Party would have been the real foreshock, and the veterans' vengeful retribution the devastating main earthquake.

In short, with a single coil of rope, I had just averted a future disaster that short-sighted fools living only for today could never have anticipated!

"Just... because I could," I said with an innocent shrug.

Explaining all of that meta-logic was far too tedious. But when I brushed it off with that offhand dismissal, the young leader's pale face flushed a deep, burning crimson with humiliation and guilt.