Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Ranking Battle (3)
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"You would've won if it had been you, right?"
"..."
I couldn't respond right away.
It did seem like an easy win.
With a build that's strong early-game but falls off hard late-game, plus penalties stacked on to boost the early performance even more.
"Eh, probably."
I shrugged.
No point pretending it was a struggle for some fake humility.
"Hmm..."
Han Sia stared at me thoughtfully for a long moment before heading back to her seat.
.
.
.
.
Once all the matches for the day were done, I headed back to the dorm.
'I'm beat.'
Weirdly exhausted just from watching.
'Did I overdo the training?'
Muscle soreness is no joke.
Plop!
I collapsed onto the bed and passed out.
"...?"
I opened my eyes to pitch blackness all around.
Up, down, left, right—nothing but black.
'What the fuck.'
I jolted upright, scanning my surroundings and checking my body.
In the void of darkness, my body glowed like a tiny candle flame.
Step, step.
Then footsteps echoed.
'?'
I whipped my head toward the sound. A man in a mask stood there.
One of his hands was replaced by a golden prosthetic...
Holy shit!!!
I backpedaled fast.
'Why the hell is this guy here all of a sudden...'
"..."
The masked man tilted his head at me, then pulled another mask from his robes.
"Here, borrow this."
A white mask with red patterns.
'...'
Mouth like a skull, sharp eye slits.
[6th Grade Relic: Demon Mask (Red)]
I nearly flipped in shock right there.
No way he'd just hand over something this valuable!
.
.
.
I put on the mask and followed the masked man.
After walking for a while, another man came into view.
"Oh, you're late, Lord Allstain."
He looked like a scruffy fortysomething who'd never heard of grooming, with an axe at his waist. He greeted the masked man warmly.
"And who's this with you?"
"A new priest."
"Oho...! That's good news."
I started piecing things together fast at the masked man's words.
I knew where this was.
The place you end up if you play as a Light Priest in the game.
[Space of Prayer].
But why was I here...?
I'm not a Light Priest.
'Huh?'
Then my mind went blank white.
Flame Sword
Since when... did I have Flame Sword...?
I quickly grasped the situation.
'...'
Cold sweat trickled down.
"What's your name?"
The scruffy guy strode up and asked.
'Name...?'
Saying my real name here could spell disaster.
But what name should I use?
"Apostle Yastora. Call me Chad for short."
"Hoo."
I blurted out the first name that popped into my head.
You know how it is.
.
.
.
Following the two led to a vast chamber.
Like a grand cathedral.
Candles everywhere, majestic.
"Come on in."
Creeeak—.
As the door opened, all eyes inside turned to us.
Some familiar faces too.
"You're late. And who's the newbie?"
A man stepped forward, his tone mocking.
"New priest. Calls himself Chad."
"..."
The guy who'd griped about lateness glanced back.
An old man staring blankly into space, a boy and girl, a man and woman—only one woman had life in her eyes.
'The Puppeteer.'
"Did that bastard kill our priests?"
Whoosh!
Flames erupted from the man's body.
He started walking slowly toward the Puppeteer.
"Not just killed them, but turned them into 'kindling'?"
Bam!
He kicked a nearby chair.
"Hmm... such a tragic tale."
"What?"
"Don't worry. The dead will burn eternally as kindling for Him."
"You crazy bitch!"
Flames surged fiercer from the man.
But the Puppeteer's gaze had shifted elsewhere.
Straight to me.
She smiled at me.
The man noticed and turned to me.
Then strode toward me.
No, fuck.
I didn't say shit.
"Chad, was it? I'll make you kindling too."
Fuck, I'm screwed!
Do nothing here, and I'd become the hottest guy on earth—instantly.
I glanced sideways.
Masked man and scruffy guy weren't stepping in.
Light Priests here were at least 3rd Grade.
I didn't know why I was in the [Space of Prayer], but they'd assume I was 3rd Grade or higher.
I eyed the guy ahead.
Looked exactly like a 3rd Grader.
No clue what gave him the balls to mouth off to the strongest here, the Puppeteer.
"...Don't use such strong words."
"What?"
"You look weak."
I said it and rested my hand on the sword at my waist.
"This fucker!"
The man was furious.
Eyebrows maxed out, feeling dissed.
"Moderates... I've never liked you lot. What the hell have you done for Him?!"
"I can't just let that slide."
The Puppeteer spoke.
"You're the one twisting His will. Just wait patiently, and the whole world will burn, creating paradise for us. Why slaughter innocent priests needlessly?"
"Bullshit! We must gather all the pieces for His return! Bringing the pieces together to resurrect Him—that's our destiny!"
"...Can't reason with a dumb beast after all."
"You fucking...!"
Then the man's form changed.
Skin tore, revealing black hide unfit for a human, sharp claws sprouting from normal hands.
Mana output incomparable to before.
'...'
Looks familiar.
Didn't recognize the face at first, but now...
Light Priest Narkhan.
As tensions boiled over, the masked man stepped forward slowly.
"We have a new priest here. Let's call it for today."
Thud!
.
.
.
"..."
I came to. Morning.
Drenched in sweat.
A dream?
Then I saw the mask in my hand.
[6th Grade Relic: Demon Mask (Red)]
Yoo I-seol slowly opened her eyes.
'...Why was I so obsessed with being number one?'
An old memory surfaced.
"This year's class number one is~ Yoo I-seol! Give her a round of applause!"
Clap clap clap.
Elementary school.
First time topping the class.
Not academics—drawing.
I'd never been good at talking to people.
Dad and Grandpa were heroes, and my sharp eyes sparked weird rumors among the kids.
Naturally, I was hated.
Then, purely by chance, I took first.
Everyone clapped for me.
Even the one who hated me most.
Even the one who feared me.
All that applause just for me.
I felt myself shining.
And joyful.
So joyful.
Smiling at me, realizing I wasn't bad.
After that, I threw myself into everything.
Even hated studies. Even spear training I used to dodge.
The applause grew.
And at the same time—
"She's kinda obnoxious, right?"
Wounds started appearing.
From the girl who stuck by me daily.
I pretended not to hear, went back to class, saw her smiling welcome—and thought,
'Guess I misheard.'
But I hadn't.
One by one.
Then two, three, four.
The more applause I got, the more people drifted away.
'Why...?'
I didn't know.
Then middle school.
I grew scared of people.
Scared of those who mocked, sneered, assumed.
So I said nothing.
And...
"Hey, spar with me!"
Don't remember her face, but a bob-haired girl approached.
Clang!
Metal clashes.
"You're crazy strong!"
Clang! Clang!
Metal clashes.
"You win again today?"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"..."
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
"What do you take me for?"
'Huh?'
[Did you hear that?]
[Yoo I-seol...]
[So obnoxious.]
.
.
.
"Hey, come out."
I couldn't hold back anymore.
"S-sorry... please stop...!"
Huff... huff...
Ragged breaths echoed.
Like gentle waves.
'What?'
It's nothing, right?
.
.
.
High school now.
I just wanted them to see me a little more.
A bit about me.
Even a tiny bit—they'd know I'm not bad.
'I want to change.'
Orbis had this allure.
Where the world's top students gathered.
No one biting others to hide weaknesses.
This was where heroes trained.
I wanted to change.
I had no friends.
Couldn't call it that.
I'd cut out low-level kids too.
'Someone on my level.'
Didn't want to be a victim of jealousy or inferiority.
But...
How...?
"You look pretty strong."
I...
'All I know is this...'
"Are you close with them?"
"..."
Hard.
So hard.
Yoo I-seol looked up.
The stands in the distance.
"..."
She turned away.
Waiting room for the next match.
Her turn soon, probably there.
No first-place wins since Orbis.
'...'
"Whatever, doesn't matter now."
Click.
Yoo I-seol gripped her spear.
Heading to the arena, a new face.
"Haven't seen a spear user in ages."
Her opponent said.
A bit bigger than her.
"..."
Yoo I-seol's eyes glowed red.
'Weak.'
But she closed her eyes, looked again.
Not with Demon Eyes—just plainly.
"Yeah, been a while."
Yoo I-seol swung her spear.
.
.
.
Flawless win.
Back in the waiting room, a familiar face.
"You win?"
"Obviously."
He smirked and stood.
"Hey, you win yours too."
"Obviously."
I grinned back.
'My opponent's...'
Kim Ji-min.
I knew him.
And how to beat him.
In the arena, relaxed Kim Ji-min.
"A swordsman, huh?"
Kim Ji-min drew his sword.
"..."
I assumed position wordlessly.
Lowered slowly, gripped the sword.
Ding!
Start signal—draw.
Vmmm!
Mana raged inside me.
Blade cleared sheath, mana calmed instantly.
Whoosh!
Flames ignited.
And silence.
——!
Wind whipped the arena.
Shff.
Slash!
Sheathed. A line scarred the ground.
BOOOOOOM——!!!!!!!
Thunderous roar.
Sand shifts.
"Huh?"
The slash cleaved Kim Ji-min's sword.
Thud.
Bisected weapon rolled limply.
"What?"
Kim Ji-min gawked around, baffled.
Crackle!
Something shattered.
A magic barrier enveloped the arena.
Blocks stray attacks from hitting stands, prevents accidents.
Made by a 2nd Grade mage.
Now cracking.
Crshhh——!!
"Hey."
I called to dazed Kim Ji-min.
"Uh... wha...?"
"Wanna keep going?"
Winner decided—murmurs erupted.
"Am I seeing things?"
"Lee Han-su? Never heard of him."
Guild reps went nuts.
It was a sword strike too advanced for student level.
Orbis 3rd year overall rank 1.
Long hair veiling one eye.
Han Sia's lips curved up.
She glanced around cautiously.
Siblings and Elena chattering beside her, guild folks too.
Opposite, youngest sib staring in disbelief—posture like he'd toppled backward in shock.
'Found you.'
Everyone's talent is set.
Han Sia thought of her siblings.
'Why are they different from me?'
Her grandpa: one of world's rare Special Grade Heroes.
His kids: outstanding heroes too.
1st Grade, but still.
Then the grandkids.
Han Sia, top talent among three siblings.
Dad: swordsman.
Mom: mage.
Sibs got mage talent.
She got swordsmanship—and mage talent too.
The world Han Sia saw differed from others.
'Why...?'
At some point, everyone looked the same.
Even beloved family and sibs.
But she felt alien.
Like not the same species.
And right now.
[Sia, you see the 1st year footage?]
[Huh? Uh...? Y-yeah...!]
[Whoa! Sia, what's with the sudden—!]
First time finding someone like her.
First since Grandpa—someone feeling identical.
Han Sia started walking somewhere.