The Backfiring Special Feature

[Suspension-Related Report]

'This must be the one.'

Selphis glanced at the name on Karsen's report, a look of mild confusion crossing his face.

'Zien Russel? Isn't that the bottom-feeder? Let's see... how long has it been since that interview? Maybe a month. Whatever, I'm not wasting my breath on him. Just the usual delinquent nonsense. Pass.'

Karsen’s report was dense with details about Zien’s sudden mastery of swordsmanship and the successful treatment of his residual mana, but Selphis flicked past the pages without a second thought.

'Right, Daven gets the suspension. Considering the family’s sponsorship money, fifteen days should be enough of a slap on the wrist. That Zien kid is always looking for trouble. No surprise there, given that attitude of his...'

Blissfully unaware that Zien had actually dominated Daven in the fight, Selphis scribbled "15 Days" on the line and slammed his official seal down.

"Ugh! We really need to find a way to kick trash like that out of this school faster."

Selphis irritably shoved the stack of papers to the corner of his desk.

'Oh, wait! Today is the day...'

A sudden realization hit him. He fumbled with his phone for a moment, and within minutes, a professor walked through the door.

"P-Principal? These are already being handed out all over campus..."

The voice, tinged with annoyance, belonged to Romina. It was a fair reaction—the campus newsstands were only a five-minute walk away, yet here she was, the Newspaper Club's advisor, playing delivery girl for the Principal.

'Ugh... what a massive pain.'

Romina let out a long sigh and slid the fresh newspaper across his desk.

"Here is the latest issue."

"Ooh! Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Romina. Heh heh, I’ve been looking forward to this special feature for a while now."

Selphis let out a hollow, giddy chuckle.

Romina had already seen the headlines. Despite her irritation, she nearly cracked a smile. Keep it together. Poker face.

"Principal, you do realize our club doesn't actually require an advisor's final review before printing, right?"

"Of course, of course! I know how busy a Professor like Romina must be. Besides, with the Stigma exams right around the corner, Arcana would fall apart without you."

Selphis eagerly bit the bait Romina had dangled to make her escape.

"Thank you, Principal. I'll take my leave then."

Romina flashed a polite, practiced smile and exited. Left alone, Selphis rubbed his hands together like a fly eyeing a feast.

'This is going to be good.'

Selphis flipped the newspaper open and took a slow sip of his tea. These special "Blue-Chip" issues were even distributed off-campus for PR purposes. They were a massive local event.

'And the content is top-tier.'

Since the feature introduced the most promising freshmen, scouting offers from various organizations usually started pouring in the moment the ink was dry.

'That means money and publicity for the school. Heh heh, this year’s crop of first-years has a great vibe.'

Back in the day, raw skill was the only thing that mattered for Sabers. Nowadays, "star power" was considered a skill in its own right.

'Especially for students. If a Saber doesn't fit a guild's brand, they don't get the big scouting offers.'

Selphis sipped his tea—which literally cost more than its weight in gold—and turned the page.

"Heh, not bad. Good layout for a special issue."

Selphis nodded in approval and turned the page to the first interview.

'Ha! I came up with that one myself.'

The academy assigned monikers to the Original Numbers (1 through 9). Usually, the faculty voted on them, but as Principal, Selphis had pushed aggressively for "Witch of Crimson Flame," leaving the professors no choice but to cave.

'What’s wrong with Witch of Crimson Flame? It’s got flair!'

Even so, given Isabel’s powerful family background, Selphis saw her prickly attitude in the interview as nothing more than "rich girl charm."

'Isabel has the talent and the looks to back it up.'

If her family ties ever leaked in an interview, the school would explode. But Selphis was keeping that bombshell tucked away for his own future entertainment.

Twenty years as a professor.

Three years as the Principal of a top-tier private academy.

Selphis’s talent for theatrics was professional-grade by now.

'Already on the last one? These were great picks. The Newspaper Club really outdid themselves.'

The short-form interviews meant he’d already breezed through six. Selphis turned the final page, already predicting the grand finale.

'Alright, who’s the closer? Probably another Original Number...'

'Huh?'

Selphis stood up, snatched the magnifying glass from his desk, and burst into a fit of incredulous laughter. "Pwahahaha!"

"I must be getting old. My eyes are playing tricks on me. Of all the things to misread..."

No matter how much he squinted or adjusted the glass, the name remained the same. Zien. Zien Russel.

"What the hell is this?!"

Selphis completely forgot his professional dignity and yelled at the empty room.

"Why on earth would you interview this guy?!"

Putting a bottom-tier failure—someone practically on the verge of expulsion—in a prime special feature slot was insane. And yet, curiosity won out. What could he have possibly said?

"I can't wrap my head around this! Ugh, I’m getting a headache..."

Selphis clutched his forehead and slowly forced himself to read. He’d skimmed the internal report earlier, but this was going to the public.

'Wait? He beat Daven?'

"Me? Heh heh, this kid..."

It was out of the blue, but praise was praise. Selphis felt his mouth involuntarily curving into a grin.

"Gah! What?! You little brat!"

Selphis clutched at his throat in shock as the twist hit him. He’d been played.

This was the special edition.

It was already printed. Distributed across Arcana—and likely already in the hands of the public.

"That... that little bastard is dead meat..."

Fuming, Selphis snatched up his phone again.

"Hey! Professor Romina!"

"How on earth did you let the club print an interview like that?! This is an embarrassment!"

I meant check it for typos!

But since his own words were being thrown back at him, Selphis was speechless.

"Forget it!"

He slammed the phone down, grinding his teeth. That flunking brat was impossible to like, no matter how hard he tried.

'Zien Russel... I was actually thinking about letting the expulsion slide since your skills improved!'

Selphis’s professional judgment had officially turned personal.

'Just you wait for the evaluation exam! I’ll personally make sure you’re cut down!'

Selphis’s eyes gleamed with the same intensity as his bald head.

My Previous Life was the Strongest Sword God

With the evaluation exam looming, Zien devoted the bulk of his training to practical combat. Real combat had a natural progression: he’d finished the early physical conditioning, and now it was time for sensory drills.

'Arcana’s facilities are top-tier, just as I expected.'

He tapped his phone against the scanner at the entrance; a satisfying beep followed, and the automatic door slid open.

The room was a 700-square-foot square.

Image projectors were mounted in each corner, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but otherwise, the space was empty. Just pure white walls.

"Initiate Image Room."

The Image Room—that was the official name. Zien tapped his phone to select the training environment.

Zzt.

The sterile white room instantly transformed into a weed-choked, ancient forest. They were just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠holograms, so the physical floor didn't change, but the atmosphere sharpened significantly.

"Confirmed. Settings: Bipedal forms."

"Yes."

Zzt!

The corner projectors whirred to life.

The empty holographic forest was suddenly crawling with six lifelike monsters.

"Kieelrik!"

"Kiruk? Human! A scary human! Where’s the boss?"

"Tools. We have no tools. What now?"

The scythe-armed mantises let out shrill roars, while the two-foot-tall dwarf goblins scrambled backward in confusion.

Zien gripped his training sword and began to carve through them with clinical efficiency.

He channeled mana into his feet for a burst of speed, accelerating instantly and plunging his blade through a mantis’s chitinous belly.

"Kieelk!"

Pulling the sword out with an economical twist, he pivoted and cleaved a charging goblin in half before it could even scream.

"Kii, kuk!"

All six monsters were dead in exactly 30 seconds.

In the closed room, there was no applause, just silence. But Zien wasn't satisfied yet.

"Switch difficulty to 3-2."

"Confirmed. Settings: Zone 3 habitat monsters."

Zien knew that fighting a variety of monsters from different ecological zones was the most efficient way to prep. Infinite gates meant infinite variety—you had to be ready for anything.

"Project."

Monster "Ranks" were a shorthand for threat: the higher the number, the more dangerous. But even monsters of the same rank could vary wildly in how annoying they were to kill.

Gold Spirit Serpents were the textbook example of "annoying."

At fifteen feet long, their coils could crush a car like a soda can. Most giant snakes weren't venomous, but the mana-saturated Poison Mire Swamp they called home bred toxins even in the weeds.

"Shieeeek—!"

As apex predators of the swamp, the Gold Spirit Serpents had massive, swollen venom glands.

"Shieek!"

"Sheeek!"

The two snakes slithered across the virtual ground toward Zien.

'Left one first.'

Zien stepped forward, calmly hooking his blade into the first serpent's open maw.

Shwoooaaak!

He sprinted along the length of its body, cleaving it in half before it could coil. The remaining snake didn't engage; it spat a stream of venom from a distance.

'Skin contact equals disqualification.'

Even though it was a safe hologram, a hit meant a failure in his mind. For a "Perfect Clear," Zien extended his palm toward the incoming liquid.

A transparent mana wall manifested, and the venom sizzled as it hit the ground.

'The image quality is actually impressive...'

Shaking off his momentary surprise, Zien hurled his training sword with pinpoint accuracy, piercing the serpent’s skull.

"Kik, shee...ek."

A brief spasm.

The impaled snake flickered and faded from the room.

"Even with the ring, it's still not quite enough."

Zien sighed, looking down at the ring on his finger.

Rank 3 monsters were usually a nightmare even for Top-30 students, yet Zien had dispatched two in a minute—and he was still hungry for a challenge.

One hour later.

"End Image Room session."

"Yes. But don't use my real name—use this alias instead..."

Zien typed in a name.

It had been a short session, but Zien was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily.

'Sensory Maximization still drains my mental focus way too fast.'

It was a technique from his past life that accelerated thought processes by heightening every sense. Right now, it just gave him faster reactions, but once mastered, it would feel like he was freezing time itself.

'SP Points? Oh, right. Arcana’s version of gold stars for good behavior.'

Zien didn't care about the rewards. His current training goal was singular.

'The exam comes first. I’ll worry about everything else later.'

Why put so much effort into avoiding expulsion? Because Arcana wasn't some run-of-the-mill school.

Graduating here was a nightmare of parties, off-campus ops, clubs, virtual gates, and brutal exams. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠But the rewards were just as extreme.

Elite academies drew talent from across the nation; being the top graduate at Arcana was a one-way ticket to "Super Rookie" status in the world of Sabers.

Ten minutes after Zien walked out.

A red-haired girl arrived at the Image Room. This was where she felt most confident during her training blocks.

"...Wait, what?"

She blinked once.

Then again.

"Evan Crowe... 7200 points?"

She wasn't the best at theory, but she'd seen the name ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"Evan" in a textbook once. Clearly, whoever had stolen her top spot was using a pseudonym.

"I’m not going to just accept this..."

Isabel’s eyes narrowed to slits.

None of the other Original Numbers usually used the Image Room. Within these walls, she was supposedly unbeatable—even against her peers. But who...?

"Who the hell is this guy?"

The central hallway bulletin board was swarmed.

Hundreds of students were either groaning in despair or cheering in relief.

The virtual gate exam—the biggest event of the semester—was notoriously luck-dependent.

"I'm screwed. I got teamed up with someone in the 120s."

"I... I have an Original Number on the enemy team. It’s over for me."

It was a 3v3 team battle format.

Even with relative scoring, life was a lot easier with strong allies and weak opponents.

But one team had clearly drawn the shortest straw in the history of the academy.

And their enemy team was...

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