Truths of Class 3
A classroom visit after a full month.
The long-awaited class held little meaning for Zien. It was just one more step in the long process toward graduation.
"You study for the Stigma studies exam?"
"It mixes in history stuff, total no-go."
"Ugh... pass."
But contrary to Zien's thoughts, as soon as he stepped into the classroom, all eyes turned to him. The noisy chatter fell silent in an instant.
"Heard he moved to the A1 dorm."
"Got connections?"
"He's an orphan—what connections? Says he aced the exam."
The whispers spread and grew louder.
"His ranking's still pending, right?"
"Pending? What even?"
Though curious, no classmates dared approach Zien recklessly. It wasn't the same as the neglect from his underdog days.
"You actually show up to class?"
"For someone who barely missed out, you look pretty smug, Aria."
"News travels slow? They scrapped mutual evaluations because of you. Didn't know?"
Aria, clearly pleased, pointed to the ranking beside her nameplate.
27th.
Undeniably up from her previous 44th. Just as she'd wished, it was now a rank that allowed off-campus activities.
"Me and that shrimp both climbed the ranks. Though, knocking out Rita? That was unexpected."
Lake, who'd been listening quietly, scowled at Aria's words.
"Shut it for a sec. You rent the whole classroom or what?"
"Oops, sorry. Must suck hearing that when you dropped 20 spots."
Lake's nameplate showed 51st, changed from 31st. Veins bulged at his temples, but Aria kept needling.
"Word is you got team-killed. Yeah, gotta sting~."
"Her Ladyship 27th. Wanna settle it in sparring today?"
"Forgot my magic tool's a pen? What're you gonna do, beat a pen with a sword?"
Aria sneered at Lake and continued.
"Besides, you think I'd take that class? Ugh... your level's seriously dropping."
"That little...!"
Even Sabers were still seventeen-year-olds at heart. As their childish spat heated up, Romina entered the classroom.
Her eyes were more hollow than usual from exam prep. During these periods, her hysterics ramped up tenfold.
"...Everyone looks chipper. Just in case—no cheating. No warnings."
Romina's gaze drifted to Zien in the corner.
'So it was Class 3.'
That explained why Karsen had been fussing at the computer all morning about posting the Class 3 roster...
'Guy's usually so laid-back, but get him around Zien and he turns into some fangirl. Seriously.'
X.
Worthless at night.
Still, Romina was quietly pleased that Karsen's mood had brightened since Zien's exploits.
This should settle the last issue.
Zien checked his watch. Five minutes left until the exam ended.
The updated Stigma studies material was tougher than before, with plenty of new concepts, but he'd solved everything without a hitch.
'Just kid stuff anyway.'
The thought had barely crossed his mind when—
From the following options, which is incorrect?
1. 422 individuals participated in clearing the 8th-rank dimension [World-Devouring Serpent]. There are 17 types of Stigma lineages.
2. 7 possessors of hallucination-type Stigmata have been identified to date.
3. The individual with the highest Stigma synchronization rate is Peil Elquines.
This was the exam's toughest question.
'Why's this so damn hard?'
Even Romina had put it in expecting wrong answers. Zien had no clue about 1 or 2. But 3—the name rang familiar. Not as exam fodder, but...
Peil, his longtime comrade, was a man with striking water-blue hair.
Peil had shared that story inside a 7th-rank Gate. By then, he was already among the top five Sabers.
Peil Elquines.
A prankster at heart, but the kind who knew just what to say to someone whose spirit had broken.
'Yeah, if it's Peil...'
Zien's wistful expression hardened. Mistaking it for defeat, Romina sighed.
'Sigh... he's toast. Told him to study.'
She still didn't know the truth.
"Huff huff! Those bastards really..."
Chris pressed flat against the building wall.
"Huh? Where'd the rat go?"
"Looks like a damn mouse and hides like one too..."
His pursuers were Daven's usual cronies.
'Half-baked punks calling me a rat?'
Chris clenched his fist. But charging in was suicide.
'How'd it come to this...'
He glanced at the ranking by his nameplate: 97th. Knocking Rita out of the exam had bumped him a whopping 47 spots from 144th.
'Up to there, fine.'
The problem was Daven. After the exam, for not betraying Zien, the subtle harassment started.
It began with petty pranks like tearing textbooks. No reaction? Now they sent goons to beat him down.
'That coward. Can't take it out on Zien, so he picks on me!'
What pissed him off more: Daven never showed his face. Always lackeys doing the dirty work.
'Built like a mountain but heart like a pinhead...'
To fix this, he needed fundamental change. Like getting way stronger than those thugs.
"...here?"
"Where the hell...?"
As their voices faded, Chris held his breath, crouched low, and slipped away from the building.
'Should be safe now...'
"Chris?"
"Gah!"
A sudden voice. Chris, tumbling backward, grumbled awkwardly.
"Zien? Geez, you scared me."
"Hide-and-seek past your age, no?"
"Hey! This look like hide-and-seek to you?"
"Nah, course not. Doesn't seem like you're that tight with them."
"Quit scratching my nerves and get to it. Why're you here?"
"Join my party."
Chris whipped his head around at the unexpected offer.
"P-Party? With me?"
"Yeah. This event needs three members."
"I'm two digits now."
"Rankings don't matter. My school ranking was dead last not long ago. You know that."
'Yeah, I know.'
Zien had beaten Isabel from an even lower rank. His was pending, but everyone knew he was treated like number one.
"Not what I mean. Why me? You could snag stronger members."
"Dunno, Chris. What's your measure of strength?"
"Uh... what?"
"Think a Saber's strength is swordsmanship or mana? In the real clutch moments, what decides victory, strategy success or failure? Not that."
Zien's overwhelming presence silenced Chris. The classmate from moments ago felt like someone else entirely.
"Judgment overcoming the skill gap with Rita. Sacrifice for the team. Resolve defying drowning fears. By my standards, you're plenty strong."
Zien extended his hand.
"You don't see your own worth yet. That's fine. I do."
'Me, strong?'
Chris bit his lip, staring at the hand for a long moment.
Being valued was joy itself. Scary if he couldn't repay it, but sweet enough to grab hold instinctively.
"Fine."
Still sprawled, Chris took Zien's hand. The handshake sealed it. Shaking off embarrassment, he spoke.
"Whatever... can't get worse than now, right?"
"Smart choice, Chris."
Zien pulled him up and handed over a crumpled sheet.
"Schedule 1...? Mana Circulation? What's this?"
Chris blinked in confusion, but Zien replied matter-of-factly.
"What else? Your schedule from now on. Told the principal—your classes are all out."
"Schedule? Skipping all classes? Possible?"
To Chris's doubt, Zien showed his phone texts.
The principal's instant reply. Zien had already tamed Selphis.
"School's a joke..."
What was this guy's deal? Meteor from dead last to top dog, puppeteering the principal—
"See, Chris? No time. Gotta get strong fast."
'Weren't you just calling me strong...'
"Oh, grab some potions tomorrow too. Diet plan with 'em."
"Potions? Eh, not shocked anymore."
Resigned, Chris scanned the schedule. Packed solid, no breaks till night. Yeah, this explained Zien's gains.
"So, who's the last party member?"
"No one's set, but considering comp..."
Three-man team.
True Gates had unknown quests, so combat balance mattered less. But Battle Survival, the off-campus event? Different story. 99 entrants, 33 teams knocking each other out in a virtual Gate. Combat was key.
Zien on melee with sword tool, Chris support with eyes. Last spot...
Zien ended his brief deliberation.
"Ranged DPS sounds good."
The so-called club building.
Beyond the main hall, a structure dedicated solely to club rooms. Inside: fingerprint-locked doors, club offices jammed together, some 30 pyeong wide.
First floor of that building.
The sunlit prime spot was now Zien's private space, courtesy of Selphis.
Originally assigned a crappy third-floor spot, but Zien's casual "Ah, for wins, easy access matters..." swapped it.
A man's desperate scream echoed from the privilege-won haven.
"No way! I said no! Hey, stay back!"
"Chris, everyone's rough the first time."
A short guy fled, chased by a man a head taller.
"To get strong, you do all this crazy shit? Nope, I'm out!"
"Too late. Open up."
Flashback to last night.