Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Ranking Match (1)
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Time passed, and the day of the ranking matches arrived.
One of Orbis Academy's biggest events, the ranking matches.
Orbis Academy was packed with people.
The reason was that during the ranking matches, they opened the gates to everyone from guild representatives to the students' families, drawing huge crowds.
"Man, there are so many people."
Broadcast stations had even shown up.
It seemed they wanted students to get used to the spotlight early, since becoming a hero often meant gaining fans and appearing on TV frequently.
Orbis Academy, which was more than just "spacious," looked completely full.
People swarmed everywhere.
The diverse races made it feel like a global festival.
If the ranking matches were this packed, it was hard to imagine what the sports festival would be like.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
I was wandering around, taking in the sights, when someone called out to me.
A familiar voice.
"Didn't your parents come?"
It was Yoo I-seol.
"I don't have parents."
"...Huh?"
In this world, my backstory was that I'd grown up in an orphanage.
'Fuck.'
An orphan in real life, and an orphan here too.
"What about you?"
"I already met..."
Yoo I-seol started to answer but belatedly checked my expression.
"I... I'll see you later...!"
With that, she hurried off somewhere.
This was Orbis Academy.
And into this place slipped a suspicious old man.
"Hm."
In truth, this old man's identity was the hero Yoo Kang-cheon.
Yoo I-seol's grandfather.
'Heh heh.'
He'd told his family he had work and couldn't come, but he'd snuck in!
Shh shh shh!
Stealthily and magnificently.
To others, Yoo Kang-cheon's movements looked like those of an ordinary old man.
No one would suspect he was the hero Yoo Kang-cheon—perfectly senile-like.
"Excuse me, are you looking for something?"
A kind-looking young man even approached to help.
"I'm fine, thank you."
After searching for a while like that, Yoo Kang-cheon spotted his granddaughter Yoo I-seol in the distance.
Step, step.
Surprisingly, the direction Yoo I-seol was heading was right toward Yoo Kang-cheon.
'Did she recognize me...?'
His disguise, which he'd thought flawless, had been seen through in an instant.
It was shocking, yet touching.
But Yoo I-seol lightly passed by Yoo Kang-cheon.
'Huh?'
He was stunned for a moment but chalked it up to his disguise being too perfect.
Just as he was about to take off his hat and reveal himself...
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
Yoo I-seol spoke to someone.
'A friend?'
That was good news.
Yoo Kang-cheon knew his granddaughter had no friends.
Back when he'd taught her spear arts, she'd often let slip odd comments.
[Heh heh, using this technique on a human for the first time.]
[I-seol?]
[Oh, it's nothing, Grandpa.]
That was when Yoo Kang-cheon turned his head.
"Th-that... um...!"
Yoo Kang-cheon couldn't continue.
His granddaughter was talking to a boy.
Grab!
"What are you doing here?"
At that moment, someone placed a hand on Yoo Kang-cheon's shoulder.
When Yoo Kang-cheon turned, he saw a familiar face.
Disguised just like him, but instantly recognizable.
"You came too?"
It was a friend.
"This isn't the time."
Yoo Kang-cheon pointed shakily at something.
There stood Yoo I-seol and a boy with a sword at his waist.
"What, her boyfriend?"
"I-I-seol is still in high school...!"
"Isn't that kid a high schooler too?"
"Shut up!"
With nothing much to do, I headed to a bench and sat down.
I was competing in the ranking matches tomorrow, so today was free.
Sa Mu-young wouldn't fully reveal his true colors until after midterms.
For now, there wasn't much I could do.
I was preparing bit by bit, but one thing worried me.
[1st Grade Relic Ark of Mud]
"This sucks."
In the game, unless you were extremely confident in your control, you needed a relic to counter the 'Ark of Mud.'
The downside was that acquiring one was a huge pain.
But since it was instant death on a graze—and this was reality, not a game—I had no choice.
Step, step.
Someone passed naturally in front of me.
They looked ordinary, but something felt off for a split second.
'Mana...?'
Similar, but different.
Less like mana and more like...
"!"
Suddenly, something clicked in my mind.
I turned toward where the person had gone...
"..."
The person was standing still right there.
And those hollow eyes stared straight at me.
Step, step.
They slowly started walking toward me.
Outwardly, an ordinary person.
Ordinary looks, ordinary build.
Thud.
I knew what this person—this thing—was.
Cold sweat dripped down.
"Brother, that might not be a good choice for either of us."
"..."
Before I knew it, my hand was on my sword hilt.
Gulp.
I swallowed dryly.
"Huff... huff..."
I exhaled.
Thinking slowly.
Why had it appeared here suddenly?
The Light Priesthood's most dangerous figures numbered three.
And one was the 'Puppeteer.'
Normally traveled as a doll named 'Number 1' in the guise of an old man.
"..."
The empty doll eyed me cautiously.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.
Those hollow eyes, impossible to read, began to pressure me.
"No big deal. Don't worry—just checking."
With that, it stood and left.
"..."
When I came to, my whole body was soaked in sweat.
Heroes had grades.
And above 1st Grade was a special rank.
Special Grade.
The Puppeteer would undoubtedly be Special Grade.
A girl made her way to a secluded spot.
She was Kindling Number 7, under the Puppeteer's direct control.
She appeared as a girl with brown hair.
The difference from other Kindling: direct puppeteering.
Crackle—.
With a tearing sound, a man appeared in white robes adorned with red patterns.
One hand was a golden prosthetic arm, and he wore a mask over his face.
"Oh, you're here."
"Your speech pattern's different from last time."
"Ah, habit. Should I use the familiar voice? Heh heh."
The girl's voice instantly shifted to an old man's.
"It's fine. This one's easier on the ears. So, did you confirm?"
"Yeah, checked with Number 9."
Crackle—!
Space tore, forming a small portal.
"What about the other dolls?"
"Leave them."
"Understood."
"Hm, not too late."
I returned to the dorm, changed clothes, showered, and headed out.
Fortunately, the ranking matches hadn't started yet.
I made my way to Arena 1, where they were beginning.
A massive crowd surrounded Arena 1.
"Anywhere's fine, I guess."
As I looked for a seat, I spotted Yoo I-seol tucked away in a corner.
"Why are you watching from here?"
She jumped in surprise and looked my way.
"What, you too? Let's watch together. This spot's prime real estate."
I glanced at the seat.
It was seriously the worst view.
"What're you talking about? Let's go over there."
"...Okay."
The ranking matches began.
The first bout's stars: Arima Kisho versus China's Shin Wi-han.
Yoo I-seol sat with her arms crossed beside me.
"Who do you think wins?"
Yoo I-seol asked.
"Arima Kisho, probably."
The world boasts countless martial arts.
Which among them are truly practical?
In the old days, people might've said boxing, judo, jiu-jitsu, Muay Thai, and such.
But now, with mana in the picture, things have changed.
Mana turns the impossible possible.
And the martial art that benefited most from mana? Chinese martial arts.
Back then, using something like Tai Chi in a real fight got you laughed at as delusional.
Now? It's a 'technique' people beg to learn but can't.
Shin Wi-han entered the arena.
"Hm... nice view."
He said, looking around.
"Hey, you know about it?"
"Hm?"
"How rigged the practical exam is."
"Well, you could see it that way."
Arima Kisho shrugged at Shin Wi-han's words.
"Bad luck, Arima Kisho. 'Techniques' come in all kinds—from monster-slaying ones to man-killing ones. Mine's crap against monsters but shines in PvP."
Shin Wi-han raised both hands.
Scar-covered hands.
Ordinary, yet they evoked the image of a beast's forepaws.
Imitation Fist (象形拳)—a martial art mimicking animal movements.
One of the styles most transformed before and after mana's emergence.
After mana appeared, mysterious masters popped up in China.
Once-despised, unrealistic arts became real.
Imitation Fist was much the same.
Tiger-mimicking techniques held tiger-like power; eagle-claw ones were eagle-sharp.
But only animal-level.
Imitation Fist evolved once more.
Beyond animals: monsters.
It became monster-mimicking martial arts.
Woooong—!
As Shin Wi-han assumed his stance, mana-formed claws appeared on his hands.
"5th Grade monster, Dark Wolf claws."
"..."
Arima Kisho silently watched Shin Wi-han.
Tat!
Shin Wi-han struck first.
Swoooosh!!
His hands surged toward Arima Kisho.
Like a monster incarnate.
Arima Kisho easily dodged.
And Shin Wi-han's face twisted.
"What the hell are you doing?"
A sword hung at Arima Kisho's waist.
But he hadn't drawn it yet.
Arima Kisho wordlessly took a stance.
Not drawing his sword—a martial artist's pose.
Shin Wi-han took it as a taunt.
"You little shit...!"
Shiiiik!
Shin Wi-han's attack flew at Arima Kisho again.
Imitation Fist has many branches; Shin Wi-han's was the Extreme Fist school.
"Hup!"
Papapap!!!
Shin Wi-han's breathless barrage.
An opening appeared in Arima Kisho's guard.
Shin Wi-han had waited for this.
"Hrah!!!"
With a massive shout, his fist rocketed toward Arima Kisho.
Kwaaaang!!!
Perfect timing, satisfying impact.
'I win.'
But that thought belonged not to Shin Wi-han, but to Arima Kisho.
"Kuhk..."
Shin Wi-han crumpled from Arima Kisho's counter.