Back to the Lecture Hall
"Ah, how long has it been since we last sat in a lecture? Right, Kanteil?"
The male student speaking to me was named Mor Debla. He was my very first friend in this world, and the one who had taught me its basic common sense. He was a guy whose every action carried a touch of artistic madness, constantly straddling the line between brilliant and brainless. True to his seaweed-green hair, his love for nature bordered on obsession. Despite being a student in the Swordplay Department, he had joined the Druid Club. Since most swordplay students naturally went on to join the Sword Club, he was an eccentric anomaly, to say the least.
Well, he couldn't possibly be more eccentric than me. I was the only second-year student who hadn't joined a club. To be precise, I had quit mine. After all, I needed to join the club the protagonist would eventually create.
Mor Debla seemed excited about the lectures resuming after so long. Ironically, once the class actually started, he would be the first to complain about how boring it was.
Come to think of it, this is my first time attending a lecture too.
When I first transmigrated, the academy had been on a temporary recess, so most students had returned to their hometowns, leaving the campus practically deserted. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise; because I had practically lived in the training grounds to hone my abilities, I had managed to leave the professors with the impression of an exemplary student. But this would be my very first time receiving actual instruction from someone else, rather than self-studying.
Slide.
The classroom door slid open, and a familiar figure stepped inside. He was a handsome, middle-aged man with long, flowing hair, dressed in a dark blue robe—looking as if he had walked straight out of a completely different genre. A simple glance from him exerted a tangible pressure on his surroundings.
This was Professor Carmel of the Swordplay Department. A Sword Master who had reached the realm of superhuman mastery, he was the instructor in charge of the second-year course, Understanding Swordplay.
"I will now take attendance. Mor Debla!"
"Present!"
"Chedle!"
"Here!"
Names were called out one by one, and soon, my turn arrived.
"Kanteil!"
"Yes, sir."
"And that is everyone. It seems all one hundred and twenty of you are present."
With such a large class, roll call alone took nearly thirty minutes. Closing his attendance book, the professor announced the topic of today's lesson.
"You all remember the attack on yesterday's entrance ceremony, correct? Today's class will be a sparring match with the freshmen."
"A sparring match with the freshmen? Isn't that a bit unfair? No matter how you look at it, how are they supposed to fight us? They probably haven't even stepped foot in a proper dungeon yet."
It was a reasonable objection. Teonor Academy, established with the sole purpose of nurturing the continent's finest talents, fostered growth so rapid that a single year of difference could completely transform a person.
Even though we had only just become second-years, we were geniuses who had survived a full year at the academy. We simply could not be compared to freshmen who had yet to even blossom. Unless someone had spent the entire year slacking off and failing to apply their lessons, the second-years would overwhelmingly dominate. Such a one-sided beatdown would be poison to the newly enrolled freshmen.
"Won't hitting such a massive wall right off the bat just stunt their growth?"
"You might think so," Carmel replied. "But because of yesterday's attack, a quarter of the freshman class has already submitted withdrawal forms."
The public enemy of the continent—demons—had attacked. For the current academy students, who had already cleared Gates and dungeons to face monsters and demons, handling a low-ranking demon was child's play. But for the freshmen, it was a completely different story. How many of them had actually experienced the calamities of humanity known as dungeons and Gates? And how many of them had actually slain a demon? Practically none. Even a low-ranking demon was difficult to defeat unless one could manifest Sword Qi, or cast high-level magic of comparable destructive power. Having such terrifying creatures ambush them at their own entrance ceremony had frightened them into dropping out. Naturally, the academy administration was currently nursing a massive headache.
"So, we're supposed to show them the strength of their seniors to reassure them and boost their morale? Is that it?"
"Exactly. Stunted growth or not, reassuring them is our top priority right now."
The students nodded at Professor Carmel's words. After all, growth was only possible if they actually stayed at the academy.
"Your grades for this class will be determined by how thoroughly you dominate the freshmen. Of course, you won't be able to rely on brute force alone. Your physical abilities will be restricted to match those of the freshman you are sparring with."
In other words, we would be evaluated purely on technique. A sparring match conducted under a penalty that restricted our innate strength.
Instead of being discouraged, the students grinned, finding the prospect rather amusing.
"It wouldn't have been any fun if we could just overpower them anyway."
"They're calling them the 'Golden Generation' out there. Let's see what they've got. Heh."
If they were the type to tremble over a mere physical restriction, they wouldn't have survived a year here without being expelled. Every second-year student present was a veteran who had endured a full year at the academy.
Seeing their confidence, Professor Carmel smirked.
"It seems there are no objections. Move out to the training grounds."
***
The training grounds were already packed with freshmen when we arrived. Perhaps due to the trauma of yesterday's attack, an air of dread hung heavily over them. Among the crowd, I recognized a few faces I had seen in the warlock's hideout in the sewers. The freshmen had suffered the most casualties during the recent raid. Lacking both experience and power, they had been utterly helpless against the low-ranking demons.
But why are those two here?
Idrian Goldenroad and Miruel.
Having slain a low-ranking demon within a single day of their admission, they had monopolized the attention of the entire faculty. At the sight of them, the second-years began to whisper excitedly.
"Are they swordsmen?"
"I get the girl, but how on earth did that fat guy take down a low-ranking demon?"
"I heard he's the eldest son of Marquis Goldenroad."
"The trash of the Goldenroad family, Idrian? That's him?"
"Did the academy take a bribe or something?"
"Well, he must have some trick up his sleeve. You can't get into the academy with absolutely nothing."
"True. But the one who actually killed the demon must have been that girl, right? Miruel, was it?"
The second-years seemed to have collectively decided that Miruel was the true demon slayer. Unlike the freshmen, who were busy sneering and gossiping out of sheer disgust for his reputation, the seniors were willing to acknowledge facts despite his infamy. In an academy where letting your guard down meant getting stabbed in the back, they had long since learned to adapt.
"Attention. We will now distribute the Synchronization Bracelets, so put them on."
The chatter died down instantly at his command. All eyes turned to Professor Carmel. At his nod, a member of the Student Council stepped forward, carrying a box filled with bracelets.
"The second-years who have spent a year at Teonor Academy already know this, but since the freshmen do not, I will explain."
He pulled a bracelet from the box and continued. Was it just my imagination, or did it look suspiciously like a smartwatch?
"This is the Synchronization Bracelet. Once worn, your strength will be restricted to that of an ordinary human. Both your mana and physical capabilities will be reduced to the level of a commoner."
"Excuse me, but what about mages?"
"Mages will wear a specialized mage-type Synchronization Bracelet. While your physical capabilities will be even weaker than the standard version, you will retain enough mana equivalent to a circle-less mage."
It would be just enough to fire a few Magic Missiles.
At those words, the freshman mages exchanged glances, realizing they stood a decent chance. A few of the freshman martial artists grumbled about the unfairness, but the second-years, who had experienced it before, merely chuckled. The power scaling of Teonor Academy's Synchronization Bracelets was notoriously flawless.
"Would you care to try it on?"
The complaining freshman stared blankly at the bracelet Professor Carmel offered before snapping it onto his wrist. When nothing seemed to happen, he took a step forward with a smug expression.
Lurch.
"Whoa!"
The freshman suddenly collapsed, looking utterly bewildered as to why his legs had given out.
"Why did my legs suddenly go weak?!"
"That is the penalty of the mage-type Synchronization Bracelet. Your physical abilities are weakened to the point where even walking normally becomes a challenge. Think of it as moving the body of a patient suffering from Mana Depletion Syndrome."
Mana Depletion Syndrome. It was a terminal illness where the mana that sustained the human body gradually evaporated over time, leading to inevitable death. Since there was no known cure, contracting it was a guaranteed death sentence. Even the longest-surviving patient had lasted less than three years after diagnosis, which spoke volumes about how dreadful the disease was.
You have to move in a body like that. Just because you know how to manipulate mana doesn't mean you get to be an overpowered cheat.
Having witnessed the balance firsthand, the freshmen fell silent.
"Now, everyone take one."
At Professor Carmel's command, we took our Synchronization Bracelets from the box and put them on. The bracelet wrapped snugly around my wrist, feeling exactly like a smartwatch. Perhaps because it was made of metal, it felt slightly cold against my skin.
I threw a punch into the air with all my might. There was no sharp crack of parting air like usual; it felt exactly like a normal human swinging at empty space. My destructive power had definitely plummeted.
Once all the second-years had equipped theirs, the freshmen followed suit. Everyone grabbed either a wooden sword or a wooden staff devoid of magic stones. The freshmen glared at us with tense, nervous expressions, while the second-years, having already survived a year, loosened up their muscles with an ease that could easily be mistaken for carelessness.
Once both the freshmen and second-years were mostly ready, Professor Carmel began calling out names.
"First-year, Idrian Goldenroad..."
The protagonist right off the bat? Then who would be chosen from the second-years?
"Second-year, Kanteil. Both of you, step up."
"Me, sir?"
He wanted me to spar with the protagonist? Even if he hadn't lost his weight yet, he was still a guy possessed by the soul of the First Hero. And I had to fight him while his physical abilities were actually boosted by the Synchronization Bracelet?
For the current protagonist, whose natural stamina was utterly abysmal, the Synchronization Bracelet was actually a massive buff. Just look at him rolling his shoulders. He looked so smug it was almost irritating.
But seeing the unyielding determination in the professor's eyes, I let out a deep sigh and stepped onto the sparring stage.
If I lose right at the start, Mor is never going to let me hear the end of it.
"Are you not going to take a wooden sword?"
"Ah, I forgot. I'll grab one right away."
Since I hadn't expected to be called in the very first round, I had completely forgotten to pick one up. I walked over to the rack and grabbed a wooden sword.
In that instant, the world slowed to a crawl, and thousands of sword paths unfurled before my eyes.
The cheat ability I assumed would be sealed by the Synchronization Bracelet had activated.
I clenched my fist, feeling a surge of power that was no different from before.
With this, I can definitely make this work!