Armaments of Legend
There are armaments in this world that exist only in legend. Chief among them are the Seven Sacred Armors and the Seven Demon Armors, forged by the Creator God at the dawn of the world. Far more than mere armor, these divine artifacts can shift their form at the wearer's will and channel the authority of godlike beings. Yet, they remain nothing more than myths.
Still, humanity wondered: Even if we cannot obtain these legendary armaments, could we not craft something similar? Even if we cannot imbue them with the transcendent authority of divine beings, could we not create a close approximation? It was this very train of thought that led to the creation of magic-infused tools—magic engineering artifacts.
Similarly, certain alchemists looked at the scriptures detailing the Seven Sacred Armors and the Seven Demon Armors and drew a different inspiration. They did not focus on the divine authority. Instead, their eyes locked onto a single phrase: adapting its shape according to the potential of its bound owner. Though overshadowed by the promise of godlike power, this was a technology of immense potential. To transform into the perfect tool for any situation, anytime, anywhere—the mere concept made the alchemists' eyes gleam with excitement.
Thus, the Amorphous Armor was born. An armor that adapts its shape to match its master's potential. While it was not the all-transforming weapon of scripture, an armor that grew alongside its wearer's potential was nothing short of a revolution in the world of armaments. Furthermore, unlike other gear, the Amorphous Armor possessed the unique trait of growing in power alongside its owner. It was a dream armor coveted by warriors and mages alike. Though it started as a mere, humble cloth garment, once bound, it would evolve in tandem with its master's strength. From that perspective, the word that had just slipped from the boy's mouth was utterly absurd.
"You're giving me the Amorphous Armor?"
"Yes. My sister's life is far too precious to be measured by any armor, but this is the absolute best I can offer."
The Amorphous Armor was so prohibitively expensive that ordinary citizens, and even most noble families, would never lay eyes on one in their lifetimes. Its value was comparable to a sprawling mansion in the most prime, expensive district of the imperial capital—enough to purchase an entire barony.
"Just who is your family that you can casually offer the Amorphous Armor?"
"Ah, I haven't introduced myself properly. I am Rio Lever. I am the eldest son of the Lever Marquisate, which governs the southern region of the Empire."
The Lever Marquisate... That name sounds incredibly familiar. A faint itch tickled the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite place it. Regardless, hearing Rio Lever's identity made it perfectly clear how he could afford to give away such a treasure.
A direct descendant of a Marquis, one of the highest-ranking nobles in the Empire, and his family rules the south? To them, the Amorphous Armor is probably pocket change. The southern region was a hub of wealth rivaling the capital where the imperial court resided. Governing a territory teeming with lucrative mines and highly profitable monsters meant their wealth was practically immeasurable.
Had they been from the west—a lawless wasteland ruled by cartels of criminals fleeing the capital and the south—or the north—a freezing, desolate hellscape crawling with ferocious, powerful, yet utterly worthless monsters—offering the Amorphous Armor would have been a massive burden. But the south was different. If the central region was the political heart of the Empire, the south was its financial hub, boasting an ideal environment for commerce. Thus, even as the eldest son who had yet to inherit the title of Marquis, he could easily offer the Amorphous Armor as a reward.
"Then I gladly accept. I was actually in need of some armor."
This recent incident had made me realize just how desperately I needed defensive gear to protect me when I wasn't holding a sword. I couldn't keep a blade in my hand twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. For someone like me, the Amorphous Armor was a godsend. If I bound it while holding a sword, its defensive power would skyrocket beyond imagination. Even if something happened to the owner later, the established defense wouldn't decrease. For instance, the Amorphous Armor worn by the previous Hero became completely unwearable by anyone else after his death, yet its legendary defensive power remained perfectly intact.
"When can I expect to receive it?"
"Just let me know your dormitory address, and I will have it delivered within two days."
At his words, I picked up a piece of paper and a pen from the infirmary desk and scribbled down my dormitory address. There was no point in hesitating when a free legendary item was on the line, right?
Soon after, the infirmary professor returned with my test results, confirming there were no issues. I had been feeling awkward lingering in the infirmary anyway, so I gladly took the opportunity to step outside.
"Maybe because it's the weekend, but there aren't many people around."
Although Teonor Academy was famous for its brutal curriculum, it still guaranteed its students proper rest. For that reason, most students spent their weekends visiting the nearby commercial districts. Teonor Academy was less of a school and more of a sprawling city. Aside from students and faculty, ordinary citizens lived within its borders as well. It was packed with merchant guilds, courts, hospitals, residential areas, and shops. The only difference from a regular city was that everyone here fell under the absolute authority of the Disciplinary Committee and the Student Council. To put it simply, the lord of this city was the Student Council, not a noble, and the Disciplinary Committee acted as the local police force. A self-governing city-state rather than a mere educational institution—that was the true face of Teonor Academy.
"My body feels a bit stiff. Maybe I should head to the training grounds..."
Normally, I would have warmed up by slaying monsters in the training pens, but they were currently locked down due to the appearance of the irregular. The administration had sealed the area off on the off chance that another irregular monster might emerge. Muttering to myself, I made my way toward the training grounds.
"Hey! Kanteil!"
A voice called out to me from a distance. A male student with familiar, seaweed-green hair approached, his arms draped casually over the shoulders of two fresh-faced freshmen who still looked wet behind the ears. It was Mor Debla. He waved at me with a bright, mischievous grin.
"You're still on campus? You should really get out more."
"I find finishing my assignments much more comfortable than making small talk with people."
"Unsocial as always, I see."
"And who are they?"
I gestured with my chin toward the baby-faced freshmen. Mor pulled them closer as if he had been waiting for this exact question and gave me a sly wink.
"I'm scouting them for the Swordplay Department."
Come to think of it, their faces looked familiar. Between their tense expressions and the thick calluses on their hands, they were definitely the freshmen who had sparred against the other second-years during the practical exam. I recalled some of my classmates mentioning them.
"Was one of them named Tom? So you were the one they said was trying to recruit them?"
So the voice I had overheard among the second-years saying, 'I should recruit them to the Swordplay Department,' had belonged to Mor Debla after all.
"Bingo. This curly-haired fellow on my right is Tom, and the guy on my left is Maltipoo."
Despite a name that conjured images of a tiny, fluffy puppy, the giant freshman offered a shy bow. He looked less like a lapdog and more like King Kong.
"Wait, did you say Maltipoo? Honestly, you look like you'd suit a blunt weapon much better than a sword."
When I tilted my head and asked, Mor immediately flared up.
Silence!!!! How dare you suggest the Blunt Weapons Department when I've worked so hard to recruit him for Swordplay!"
Freshmen at the academy were not assigned to a specific department during their first semester. To be precise, they were free to attend any class they wished. This was a courtesy extended by the academy to allow them to experience different fields before officially choosing their major in the second semester. In the past, students had to select their department upon admission, but the Student Council had revised the regulations to be more accommodating to incoming students. Thanks to this change, departments now competed to recruit talented freshmen just as fiercely as the student clubs did.
"Oh, right. Did you hear about the freshman welcoming ceremony tomorrow? Though, I doubt a training maniac like you would have heard."
His tone was slightly condescending, but I couldn't deny it. His words had only just jogged my memory.
Ah, the freshman welcoming ceremony.
In other words, the departments' war for talent. This was a crucial event where Idrian Goldenroad would ultimately decide to join the Swordplay Department. Come to think of it, was Idrian currently caught in the clutches of the Student Council President? Being held by a person who would gladly sell their soul to the devil just to satisfy their curiosity meant he was probably suffering quite a bit. The protagonist sure had it rough.
"So, want to come? Honestly, with a face like yours, you could probably reel in female freshmen like fish on a line."
"I have no intention of dragging kids who are better suited for other fields into the Swordplay Department. Besides, I'm not even that good-looking."
To be fair, I had eyes, so I knew I was handsome. Every time I looked in the mirror, I couldn't help but admire the face of this new body. But good-looking enough to attract a massive crowd of female freshmen? Unless it was a slimmed-down Idrian, that was practically impossible—excluding the Student Council President, whose reputation was already maxed out.
"That is pure deception... you crazy bastard... Sigh. What a clueless idiot who doesn't even know his own worth."
He stared at me with dead, cold eyes. How incredibly rude. I promptly locked my arm around the neck of the glaring Mor, trapping him in a headlock.
"Argh! I yield! I yield!"
"You really ask for it, don't you!"
While Kanteil and Mor bickered and fooled around, Tom and Maltipoo, who had been held captive by Mor, quietly slipped away. Stealing away while Mor was thoroughly distracted, the two freshmen whispered to each other.
"He said he was friends with Senior Kanteil, but I never imagined it was actually true."
"I know, right? Does that mean Senior Mor is also incredibly strong?"
They recalled Kanteil—the man who, despite having his physical abilities restricted to those of an ordinary human by the Synchronization Bracelet, had unleashed sword strikes that far surpassed their own full-power efforts. He had shown them an insurmountable wall, a peak of swordsmanship to strive toward. The two looked at each other and chuckled.
"You're going to apply for the Swordplay Department too, right?"
The two freshmen, who had nearly been sacrificed after being captured by a dark mage, had naturally chosen Kanteil—the man who had saved them like a twist of fate—as their role model. Even if they had been unconscious at the time and hadn't witnessed his heroic rescue with their own eyes.