Final Evaluation: The Training Hall
The training hall for the final evaluation was always open. Once classes ended, students split into two groups: those heading home, and those staying behind to sweat it out. Most chose the former. The shuttle bus ran on a fixed schedule, someone was waiting at home, and everyone already knew that lingering would only leave them exhausted. Yet some stayed anyway. Especially the Class A students. They didn't treat the word "practice" like a hobby. They stayed to survive, to grow stronger, and above all, to climb higher.
The final evaluation wasn't an individual assessment—it was a team one. The word "team" sounded good, but at Korea Academy, it usually meant "collision" rather than "cooperation." Especially when Class A and Class D were mixed together. That wasn't a matter of teamwork; it was a basic problem of human relations.
I paused at the entrance to the training hall, took a breath, and pushed the door open. Someone was already inside.
Kang Hyun-woo. Class A. Just hearing his name made Class D students shrink into themselves. It wasn't simply because he was strong. It was because of the "aura" he carried. The same expression every time. The same rigid posture. The same gaze that looked down on others. And a tone that measured everything against his own standards. I'd seen far too many people like him.
Oh Se-rin was there too. Class B. She stood naturally right beside Kang Hyun-woo. The distance between them felt so natural that they didn't look like a newly formed team—they looked like people who'd always moved together. She glanced my way once, then immediately looked away. Her eyes weren't dismissive so much as "tidying up."
And Park Jun-ho. Class C. He had been standing by the door and gave an awkward bow the moment I entered.
"H-hello..." His voice trailed off. Park Jun-ho was always like that. The speech pattern of someone unaccustomed to using his own voice. The kind of person whose words would vanish the moment someone spoke over him.
I only nodded.
"You're here," Kang Hyun-woo said. "Not late, at least."
His tone was ordinary, but it wasn't a pleasant kind of ordinary. "Not late" carried the weight of "At least you know how to keep time," which in turn implied "If you can't even manage that, you're not worth treating as a person."
Oh Se-rin chimed in as if to back him up. "Punctuality during team practice is basic."
She looked toward Kang Hyun-woo as though it were obvious, her eyes asking for confirmation. He gave the slightest nod.
Park Jun-ho blurted out in a rush, "Ah, me too...! I made it on time too. Really..."
Before he could finish, Oh Se-rin turned her gaze away. Park Jun-ho immediately shut his mouth.
Simple markers had been placed across the training hall floor—not mana constructs, but basic obstacles set up by the instructors for drills. Shield-shaped walls. Low structures. Alley-like passages. The practice dungeon could only be entered during the actual final evaluation, so this was the only way left: creating scenarios inside the training hall to coordinate movements. But "coordination" was just a pretty word. In the end, this was a game where Class A gave orders and everyone else followed.
Kang Hyun-woo adjusted the sleeve of his black training uniform and spoke. "The final evaluation dungeon is cave-type, mostly goblins with an orc at the end, according to the briefing."
I nodded without a word. Kang Hyun-woo studied my reaction for a beat longer before continuing.
"Our team isn't a standard composition. No supporter, the tank role is shaky, so we'll have to push through with damage output."
Oh Se-rin immediately agreed. "Exactly. We'll have to clear everything with speed and power."
Park Jun-ho hesitantly raised a hand. "Um... but I can... defend... a little..."
His sentence never reached the end. Kang Hyun-woo glanced at him and cut in. "You should be able to hold out to some degree. But can you actually fulfill a proper tank role?"
The tone was decisive. Park Jun-ho shrank his shoulders. "S-sorry..."
Kang Hyun-woo looked away as if the apology was unnecessary. Then his eyes landed on me. They lingered a little longer this time.
"Han Do-yoon."
The way he called my name felt like a verification process. Oh Se-rin finally showed interest, her eyebrows lifting slightly. Park Jun-ho also glanced at me cautiously.
"If you use your skill properly, you can at least land one solid hit, right?"
I delayed my answer. "It's possible. But hitting it at 100% is difficult."
Kang Hyun-woo reached his conclusion at once. "In other words, it's impossible."
Oh Se-rin nodded. "Then there's nothing to expect."
Park Jun-ho muttered quietly, "Still... if one hit is possible, isn't that good...?"
Oh Se-rin shot him a glance. That alone was enough to silence him.
Kang Hyun-woo didn't bother evaluating my skill any further. His eyes had already lost interest. That look was more accurate than anything. He wasn't asking whether my skill was strong or weak—he was only asking whether it could be used in team operations. And his conclusion now was that it could be used, but was hard to control. Therefore, set it aside for now.
Kang Hyun-woo walked to the center of the training hall and nudged one of the markers with his foot.
"I'll explain what we're practicing. The final evaluation dungeon is cave-type, so visibility is limited and there are lots of corners." He gestured at the floor. "Jun-ho, you stay behind me. Se-rin, you take the right side. I'll be in front." Then he looked at me. "Do-yoon, you..."
A brief silence. That silence was time for him to assess me.
"This is awkward."
Oh Se-rin immediately added, "Can't he just follow from behind?"
Park Jun-ho rushed to speak. "N-no... Do-yoon is... still..."
Kang Hyun-woo raised a hand. Park Jun-ho's words stopped on the spot.
"Follow from behind and cover the rear as needed," Kang Hyun-woo said. "Don't step forward unnecessarily."
It wasn't an order. It was a warning.
I nodded. "Understood."
Extending my sentences would only count as "excuses" by their standards. I had neither the time to make excuses nor any reason to convince them.
Kang Hyun-woo drew his sword. Not a practice blade—a real training sword with actual weight. Even holding it, his breathing didn't waver. His mana flow was perfectly stable. Oh Se-rin pulled out a thin mana thread and wrapped it around her fingertips like a whip. Park Jun-ho spread a thin layer of mana in front of his hands in the shape of a shield.
And me. I gripped my sword and quietly drew up my mana. It was different from before awakening. Back then it had felt like "pulling from what was there." Now it felt like "a flow had formed."
Kang Hyun-woo spoke. "Scenario assumption. Three goblins around the corner."
He snapped his fingers. The training mana dolls began to move.
Kang Hyun-woo moved first. His steps were short and precise. With one swing of his sword, a mana doll's head flew off.
Fast.
And then again. Mana surged from Kang Hyun-woo's body once more. It didn't spread like an enhancement. It gathered at a single point and concentrated at the tip of his blade.
Steel Break
Concentrate mana at the sword tip to strike.
Kang Hyun-woo exhaled shortly. His sword traced a straight line—not a simple slash, but a short, sharp strike where mana seemed to extend the blade. The air itself felt torn. The three dolls in front of him split apart simultaneously.
That was the end. He wasn't even breathing hard.
Oh Se-rin didn't bother hiding her admiration. "...As expected."
It was natural praise. Park Jun-ho stood there dazed before hurriedly nodding. "Whoa..."
Kang Hyun-woo finished cleaning up the dolls and turned to look at us.
"You saw that, right? We need to clear them at this speed."
He looked at me. "You need to be able to keep up with at least this much."
I nodded silently. Inside, I thought, Keeping up isn't the problem... The real problem was that the team was only looking forward right now.
Kang Hyun-woo kept moving under the assumption of forward pressure. Oh Se-rin stuck right beside him, echoing "Right, right." Park Jun-ho only said "sorry." And I was just... there.
If I pointed that out, Kang Hyun-woo would get annoyed. That would likely lead to me being excluded from the team. But if I didn't say anything, the team would still fall apart.
Kang Hyun-woo spoke again. "Again. This time we'll go with combinations. Jun-ho, you defend."
Park Jun-ho hurriedly raised his mana shield. His hands were trembling.
"Se-rin, you take the flank."
Oh Se-rin flicked her mana thread as if it were obvious.
"Do-yoon. You stay in the back," he said. "Don't make unnecessary movements."
That meant he didn't consider me part of the main force.
Instead of answering, I steadied my breathing and lowered my stance. The training dolls moved again. Kang Hyun-woo only looked forward. So did Oh Se-rin. Park Jun-ho had no room to look around while maintaining his defense. I spotted a doll approaching from behind, entering Oh Se-rin's blind spot.
"Now..." I said shortly.
But at that exact moment, Kang Hyun-woo spoke sharply. "Don't speak. Follow my instructions."
At the same time, Oh Se-rin looked toward Kang Hyun-woo without even checking behind her. "Right, got it."
Park Jun-ho turned his head with an "Huh?" and his shield wavered in confusion. In that gap, the doll from behind lunged at Oh Se-rin.
Oh Se-rin reacted too late. "What—!"
Her thread whipped out, but the angle was off. And in that instant, my body moved first. Instead of stepping forward, I slid to the side. Strike and retreat. Not engaging head-on, but cutting briefly from the flank. My sword severed the doll's arm. I didn't bring it down completely, but its advance was stopped.
And then, a faint red line tried to overlay my vision.
Crimson Trace
I instinctively held back. I cut only the minimum and retreated. That was when Kang Hyun-woo's voice dropped coldly.
"You."
I looked up. Kang Hyun-woo was glaring at me even while finishing off the remaining dolls.
"What did you just do?"
Oh Se-rin immediately took his side. "Exactly. Why did you suddenly butt in? You broke our flow."
Park Jun-ho spoke quietly. "But... if it wasn't for Do-yoon, Se-rin might have been hit..."
Oh Se-rin shot him a glare. Park Jun-ho shut his mouth at once.
Kang Hyun-woo said, "I told you not to do unnecessary things. At goblin level, Jun-ho can block them or Se-rin can handle them herself."
I let out a breath. "It was a necessary action."
My words were short. Kang Hyun-woo's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. That expression said, A Class D student is talking back.
"Whether it was necessary or not is for me to decide."
Oh Se-rin piled on. "That's right. Hyun-woo's the leader. Only someone from Class D would think goblins are a big deal. They're just trash mobs."
Park Jun-ho clenched his fists and lowered his head. Seeing that, I didn't say anything more. Speaking further will only make the fight bigger. And fighting would only damage the team more.
"Sorry."
But another thought grew inside me. Can this team actually function once we enter the real dungeon during the final evaluation?
Kang Hyun-woo was strong from the front. Oh Se-rin was strong beside Kang Hyun-woo but had no judgment of her own. Park Jun-ho could defend but couldn't speak up. And I could see the space and the variables. That combination could cover for each other. But Kang Hyun-woo wasn't trying to cover—he was trying to force everyone into his own mold.
Kang Hyun-woo tapped the floor with the tip of his sword. "We're doing it again. This time, move exactly as I say."
Oh Se-rin spoke as if it were obvious. "Right. That's the most efficient way."
Park Jun-ho answered quietly, "Yeah..."
I silently took my stance. The training dolls moved again. This time there were more of them. And in the middle, slightly larger ones. Even practice versions were D to C rank level.
Kang Hyun-woo stepped forward. He was clear. He didn't simply overpower with strength—he extracted efficiency through precise movements. And once again, he gathered mana.
Steel Break
Another sword strike exploded outward. That power was clearly different from Class B or C.
Oh Se-rin spoke excitedly. "See? This is what Class A is."
At those words, Park Jun-ho's shoulders shrank even further. "Sorry..."
Kang Hyun-woo spoke faster, as if Park Jun-ho's apology was unnecessary. "Jun-ho, maintain defense. Se-rin, cover the flank. Do-yoon, stay back."
I couldn't stay in the back. When the larger doll didn't go down in one hit, more dolls rushed in from both sides. In a cave-type dungeon, moments like this would block the space. I read that instinctively. So I took one step to the side. Strike and retreat. If I went in, cut once, and pulled back, the flow would continue. That was the correct judgment.
I slipped in briefly. My sword severed a doll's thigh. Its center wavered. At that moment, Kang Hyun-woo finished it off completely.
Success. By process and result alone, the team had succeeded. Yet Kang Hyun-woo looked displeased even after succeeding. That was the bigger problem.
Kang Hyun-woo lowered his sword. "Hey." His voice was low. "I told you to do as I say."
I looked up. "That was clearly the correct judgment just now," I said. "The space was blocked and Se-rin's counter was late."
Oh Se-rin immediately protested. "What? You're saying I was late?"
I continued. "It was definitely a late timing. And in a cave, the distance would be even closer, so it could have been later. In that case, me cutting in once—"
"Enough." Kang Hyun-woo cut me off. His expression wasn't one that listened to explanations. It was one that enforced control. "Right now you're not doing team play. You're just judging and moving on your own."
I swallowed a sigh. Of course I was used to judging alone. That was how I'd survived. But this wasn't a solo fight. It was a team. So I was trying to align through words. But Kang Hyun-woo had no intention of aligning through words. He only wanted to align things to his own way.
Oh Se-rin stuck close to Kang Hyun-woo and declared, "Hyun-woo's right. You just need to stay quiet in the back."
Park Jun-ho hurriedly cut in. "B-but... Do-yoon just helped..."
Oh Se-rin looked at him. One glance was enough to make Park Jun-ho shrink again. "Sorry..."
Watching that scene, I became certain of this team's structure.
Kang Hyun-woo + Oh Se-rin = pressure
Park Jun-ho = withdrawal
And me = awkward
If things continued like this, once we entered the real dungeon environment during the final evaluation, any mistake would immediately turn into a fight. Kang Hyun-woo was strong from the front. Oh Se-rin was strong beside Kang Hyun-woo but had no judgment of her own. Park Jun-ho could defend but couldn't speak up. And I could see the space and the variables. That combination could cover for each other. But Kang Hyun-woo wasn't trying to cover—he was trying to force everyone into his own mold.
Kang Hyun-woo raised his sword again. "We're done for today."
Oh Se-rin nodded immediately. "Yeah. Too many unnecessary variables."
Those words were directed at me.
Park Jun-ho bit his lip and muttered quietly, "Sorry..."
I placed my sword on the rack. Then I spoke quietly. "Understood."
Kang Hyun-woo didn't look any more pleased even after my answer. If anything, he looked even more dissatisfied. Because I hadn't cowered, made excuses, or gotten angry. He would feel that I didn't acknowledge him. But right now, I had no room to acknowledge anyone. What I needed to do was make sure this team didn't collapse inside the dungeon. And in the process, hide what I could use as much as possible and bring it out as safely as possible.
The final evaluation... Dungeon. Cave-type. Narrow visibility. Variables. And team.
Today's practice hadn't been about coordinating movements. It had been about confirming each person's "standards."
Kang Hyun-woo's standard was clear. My words are the correct answer.
Oh Se-rin's standard was also clear. The strong person's words are the correct answer.
Park Jun-ho's standard was sadly all too familiar. The possibility that I'm wrong comes first.
And my standard was Surviving is the correct answer.
As I left the training hall, I thought: This team would definitely waver once inside the dungeon. Whether that wavering ended as a minor clash or led to a real accident—I still didn't know. But one thing was certain. When the final evaluation began, this team would be tested not through "coordination," but through "incident." And at that time, someone would need my judgment. Whether they hated it, ignored it, or refused to acknowledge it. Because neither the dungeon nor the academy would overlook such things.
I slowly drew in a breath. Then let it out even more quietly. Today had ended like any other day, but this wasn't practice. It was a warning.