Freshman Johan Crushes Baren
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The disparity among academy students is enormous.
Students from the commoner caste and below are all pretty much on the same middling level. By their fifth year, they might have enough practical experience to be somewhat useful on the battlefield, but until then, they're just greenhorns who only know theory.
However, the noble caste, led by the named characters, are monsters that disrupt the ecosystem right from their first year. Bane, for instance, reaches fifth-year strength by the end of her first year, per the original novel.
This group makes up roughly 1% of the total student body. The gap is massive. And even among these monsters, the difference between the bottom rung and the absolute top is greater than that between the average student and the dead last.
Judging Baren Kurger's skills coldly, he's solidly in the upper tier—above average. But he's not in that untouchable, otherworldly top echelon beyond a four-dimensional wall.
To even challenge me, they'd need someone from the top ranks. At least a Circle executive. Not some random grunt like this.
Shiiik!
Baren's sword sliced through the air with a venomous hiss like a striking viper. But dodging such a predictable trajectory would be tough only if I were playing a game of let-him-win. A half-step back was all it took to deflect his attack.
His stance with the sword was decently stable. I'd pegged him as a sloppy thug wielding some wild faction style or just a moron with shitty fundamentals, given his laid-back vibe—but no. His speed was respectable enough to boast against other freshmen.
That speed still didn't touch me, though. Even with the assimilation rate debuff nerfing my stats, evading this guy's blade was child's play. It might impress average classmates, but any named student could dodge it blindfolded.
'Eh, the real issue isn't speed—it's that blatantly telegraphed path. Zero real combat experience.'
At best, he'd been showboating in front of underclassmen. His attacks, assuming no counter at all, were monotonous to the point of boredom.
"My god! Check out that freshman! He's dodging Baren's quicksword completely."
"Deflecting Baren's strikes with that drunken stance... Is that guy really an Oracle?"
"Baren's probably going easy. Or it's just probing. But that Oracle's movements are no joke."
The onlookers buzzing was natural. They figured Baren was holding back—which made sense from their view. Baren himself was grimacing, pouring everything into his assaults.
"What a slow, worm-like sword. Think it'll ever actually hit?"
"You... you bastard!"
Swallowing curses wouldn't make his strikes land—masters would be skewered on spears otherwise. Baren's quicksword couldn't even graze my shadow, fizzling pathetically into empty air.
With this gap, I could probably pull off that 1mm evasion Master Kim Minyoung showed me before.
'But one slip and I'd get wrecked. Better not push it.'
Assimilation debuff meant I couldn't go too wild.
"You've got some hidden trick! But it's just petty sleight of hand!"
"Is that what you call this?"
Baren shuddered like he had chills, trembling hand gripping his sword as he chained strikes.
"Baren can't even land a hit? What's going on?"
"Not holding back?"
"No way Thorny Baren goes easy. He's giving it everything."
The crowd was catching on that Baren was dead serious. His shoulders dripped sweat, while I was utterly serene. The advantage was obvious.
Frustrated that things weren't going his way, Baren bit his lip.
"Fuck! Cowardly shit! Stop running and face me head-on!"
"You think?"
I spun my steel sword and gripped it reverse. Fingers loosely on the flat of the blade. One wrong move and my palm would slice open—a recklessly dangerous hold. No sword style had anything like it.
"Wh-what the hell?!"
"Figure this'll be enough."
Words done, I lunged forward like lightning. Baren might be speed-respected among his crew, but that's kid stuff compared to me.
His openings? Over ten visible to my eyes alone. I slipped left loosely, then swung the reversed blade. Before his guard formed, the hilt cracked his temple.
Kang!
"Kuhak!"
"How's the hilt taste? Pretty spicy, right?"
Perfect mockery.
"You fucker!"
Blue mana cloaked Baren's rampaging sword. Mana use in serious sparring was rare—even then, only by prior agreement.
"Hey! Baren! Reality Room's fine, but not mana blade!"
The celestial operating the Reality Room yelled, face pale as Baren's sword aura.
A Sun and Hill Circle member drawing sword aura against a freshman? Campus intel Circles would splash this as an extra edition. Word spreads, and Sun and Hill's pride tanks.
"Fuck that! Gotta discipline this arrogant prick like this!"
"Ease up! You wanna tarnish the Circle's name!?"
The murmurs among onlookers swelled uncontrollably—against Sun and Hill, naturally.
"Mana blade on a freshman. Sun and Hill's done."
"Staged event?"
"Baren wouldn't play the fool. Gotta watch that freshman."
Voices condemning Baren and Sun and Hill grew louder. But Baren, the money pit Yama, heard none. Circle members watched helplessly.
"Sh-shouldn't we stop the duel now? If the Circle leader hears..."
"No chance. Baren's too far gone to listen."
"I'll kill you!"
Baren's swordplay grew sloppier. Not just the blade—his body mana-boosted, strikes 1.5x faster.
His base speed was solid; now, fierce gusts of chained slashes blurred to the eye. But tricky? Hardly.
Mana and rage boosted speed and power, but made paths easier to read. He swung like a textbook thug—straight and diagonal crosses. Pristine basics ruined by hotheaded simplicity.
'Straight and diagonal intersections. Without overwhelming force and speed, it's just flailing.'
No desire to clash blades and waste energy. Duck low, slip opposite the path—his attacks crumbled harmlessly.
"Fight with your sword! Coward!!!!"
"Haha! Sword skills trash, taunts trash. Bribe your way into Sun and Hill?"
"Urgh! You dog!"
Baren was honest. More provocation, simpler paths. Now, even a beginner hacking a dummy looked plausible. Yawn-worthy ease.
"F-level attacks. Time for punishment."
Kang!
Dodge the straight slash, deliver a crisp temple knock. Countering was as easy as evading.
I could end it anytime, but prolonging his disgrace felt better. His rep plummeted live.
"Pathetic..."
"No point watching. Sun and Hill—thought they were decent, but folding to one freshman? Waste of time. I'm out."
Not just Baren—Sun and Hill's rep tanked with him.
'Circle leader should've shown by now.'
Late to notice the commotion, or absent? Whatever—I've left a mark. He'll come eventually, to restore the fallen honor.
Kang! Kang! Kang!
"Love the temple knocks, huh? Got plenty—have 'em all."
"Dog! Die! Die!"
"Sloppy swings won't even suicide you. Put some heart in."
Baren couldn't counter the one-sided toying. Exhausted himself swinging.
His mana talent lagged his swordplay. Couldn't sustain sword aura ten minutes.
"Hahk...! Hahk...! Hahk...!"
Baren panted raggedly, forehead swollen like bee stings. Eyes twitched, veins bulged. Face pre-seizure.
Reality Room: pain only, wounds vanish post-duel.
So I targeted pride and rep. Outside? I'd have sliced his groin first.
"Th... this fucker!"
Baren gnashed in rage—but that was it. Powerless.
"Boring."
Time to wrap. His honor was dirt.
"Baren's way weaker than rumors. Mana-boosted and still stomped by a freshman?"
"Slacker rep checks out. Sun and Hill washed up—Ho Lake Sword might snag top sword Circle spot."
"Comparing to Ibis dorm receivers?"
"After this duel?"
"Yeah... No Ibis Circle shows this ugly. Eyesore. Let's go."
I raised my sword straight. Seeing my proper grip, Baren's eyes spasmed wide.
"Time to end it."
Smooth arc thrust forward. Foot and blade synced.
Path honest like his, but speed beyond perception. Upgraded his style against him.
Blade cleaved his waist.
"Gaaak!"
Reality Room: no wound, but 10% damage real. Baren clutched side, collapsed.
Baren combat-ineffective, winner's name appeared in Reality Room air. The operator celestial rushed to him.
"B-Baren! You okay!?"
"Kuhk!"
Baren couldn't lift his head. Pain, shame, or both—face redder than lava. Prideful type: he'll ghost for a while.
"Unacceptable."
A senior in Tempest's red robe emerged from crowd. Blue eyes like calm sea, curly blond—handsome.
Original side character. Sun and Hill exec: Maraelle of the Phantom Sword. He doffed white glove, tossed it at me.
"Duel or not, you insulted Sun and Hill. I challenge you."
"Haha. Insulted 'cause you deserved it. Challenge accepted. I don't dodge fights that come knocking."
"I'll teach you there's always a sky above the sky."
"Pot calling kettle."