I'll Check With My Own Eyes
Han Seoyul remained silent for a long time even after Yoo Hamin slipped on the glove. It wasn't fear. Watching his fingers curl and uncurl showed the opposite: he was steadying himself.
“...It's different from yesterday.”
“As I said, it's almost customized.” I leaned against the workbench and answered.
Yoo Hamin turned his gloved left hand slowly. He bent his wrist inward, then outward, then curled his fingers as if gripping a sword. For him, this level was more than enough equipment.
“Is there anywhere it feels uncomfortable?”
“No. It feels unusually comfortable.”
“It shouldn't feel unusual.”
“Ah, I didn't mean it in that way.” Yoo Hamin shook his head hurriedly.
I waved my hand lightly. “Just a joke. You said today's entrance exam is the final practical, right?”
“Yes. The final practical.”
“Try it out on the exam. Just don't get the wrong idea. This isn't something that makes students stronger.”
Even from a glance, Yoo Hamin in the original novel's latter half was still far away. His gear and even his personality. The him from back then had been a sword that had crossed countless battlefields. But now he was just an entrance candidate. Still, it wasn't bad. An unpolished gem might actually be shaped this way.
“Remember the debt?” I asked.
Yoo Hamin immediately lowered his head. “Yes. If I succeed, I'll prioritize receiving your request first, President-nim.”
“Good.”
“But do you really think I can succeed?” I paused for a moment. I knew the future. So the answer was simple. Yoo Hamin would succeed. I just couldn't say it like that. I didn't feel like suddenly playing the prophet, and I didn't want to plant unnecessary doubts in him. I looked at his hand. The hand full of calluses. The sword he hadn't let go of even with that mismatched glove. That much was enough to give him words even without knowing the future.
“You're not the kind of person who would give up. That's enough. Go on. I'm running late.”
“Thank you.” He bowed once more and left the shop.
The shop fell quiet once the door closed. I stood there for a moment, then sat in the chair. Yoo Hamin had gone. The glove had gone too. So was my work done? Of course not. I had to check how the first piece worked in the field. It looked perfect on the workbench, but often slipped when actually moving. The problem was the method. Following a first customer all the way to the exam hall to inspect the gear would be too suspicious. It would be bothersome, and most of all, noticeable. I wanted to live quietly. So I would take another route.
I opened the desk drawer and a golden identification badge came into view. The royal crest. My name. The title of former royal court mage. The first thing I wanted to throw away when leaving the palace, and yet it had been pulled out again after only a few days. Life really is tiring. Still, I had to use the status I could.
The exam hall at Saint Lia Academy was already noisy in the morning. Applicants lined up at the entrance, and staff looked flustered checking names. I handed my badge to the staff guarding the gate. He checked it routinely at first. Then his expression stiffened the moment he saw the crest and name.
“...Please wait a moment.” He disappeared inside without another word.
I waited in the shade beside the gate. From afar came the sound of metal clashing and the murmur of applicants. Yoo Hamin was probably among them, waiting for his turn while wearing that old glove.
Before long a woman walked over. She looked young. At first glance she seemed closer to an advanced instructor than a vice-principal. Her black staff uniform was wrinkle-free and neat, and her hair tied low barely swayed with her steps. Principal Han Seoyul. A figure I still remembered from the original novel. Someone who had risen to the post at a young age, faced many enemies, and ultimately protected the academy several times. Quick to judge, she didn't easily let off students, nobles, or even royalty when it suited her. Not an easy opponent.
Han Seoyul stopped in front of me. “It is you, Seo Yirin-nim.”
“Right now I’m just the shop owner.”
“Hearing that the former royal court mage spoke like this makes me a little uneasy.”
“Is it that suspicious?”
“Very.” Han Seoyul was smiling, but her eyes were scanning me. The kingdom’s most valuable mage had suddenly retired. And she had opened a shop right in front of the academy. She had even come to the exam hall. From the principal’s perspective, this was not something to ignore.
“I heard you came to watch the entrance exam.”
“Yes.”
“May I ask why?”
“I need students.”
“Students?”
“More precisely, their clothes and gear. Since I opened the shop, I need to watch over the customers who will become my customers.”
Han Seoyul stayed silent for a moment. Her gaze slowly moved from my face down to my coat, hands, and badge, then back up.
“A royal mage doing business against academy students.”
“I am the former royal mage.”
“That would make the royal family quite unhappy. Official observation would be difficult. The applicants might get nervous. If it’s known that the former royal mage is watching the exam, the exam won’t be an exam anymore.”
“I have no intention of being noticed.”
“Then I’ll give you a seat in the western observation gallery. On the condition that you watch quietly.”
“It means you don’t want me interfering with the exam. I’m not that lacking in consideration.” I nodded.
“I’ll watch quietly.”
“I’ll believe you.” Han Seoyul signaled the staff standing beside her. “Guide Seo Yirin-nim to the western gallery. And there’s no need to record it in the external observation log.”
“Understood, Principal.”
Thus I passed through the gate and entered. I hadn’t followed Yoo Hamin. I had quietly entered with the title of former royal court mage. This way was far better. It was much easier to move forward if I was an unofficial observer known to the principal rather than a suspicious shop owner trailing a single student. Even if I later needed to do business with the academy.
The western gallery offered a good view of the exam hall. It was far enough from the general stands that it wasn’t visible to the applicants. Below lay the vast training ground where practical exams were underway in each section. Swordsmanship. Magic. Defense. Support. Each evaluated in its own way.
I rested my arms on the railing and looked down. What first caught my eye wasn’t skill. It was equipment. Candidates for swordsmanship whose boot soles were too thick. Magic candidates whose sleeves always snagged when they grabbed their wands. Noble students whose flashy cloaks slowed their turns. The mess was obvious.
I thought that since it was the academy entrance exam, they would at least have prepared the basics, but it turned out even messier than I expected. Of course they wouldn’t realize it. Most people get angry at their gear when their body is uncomfortable, but thinking that an uncharged robe is the interference is an idea that surprisingly few come up with.
I muttered while watching below. “There’s a lot that needs fixing.”
At that moment the swordsmanship section was called. “Next, Yoo Hamin!”
Yoo Hamin stepped forward. From my position his face was clearly visible. His opponent was a tall male student. His gear was much better. The arm guards were new, and the practice sword was balanced. Anyone weaker would have been pushed back by the sheer force.
The starting signal fell. The opponent struck first. The first clash. The sound of wooden swords ringing across the training ground.
Yoo Hamin was pushed back. As I expected. The gap in power was clear. But his wrist didn’t break. I watched his left hand. The circuits hidden inside the glove reacted extremely slowly. They were invisible from outside. No light either. But I could see the direction of the force changing slightly. The shock that had been pushing toward the wrist spread across the back of the hand.
The second clash. Yoo Hamin was pushed back again. But this time he held. On the third clash the opponent pressed hard. In the original story trouble would have happened here. Yoo Hamin had suffered wrist injuries for quite a while. I didn’t remember the exact scene, but I understood why now. With the old glove the pressure would have been taken straight by the inside of the wrist. But it was different now. The glove wasn’t guiding his movements. Instead it caught the point about to collapse, a little late. That small difference was enough.
Yoo Hamin’s foot slid back. It wasn’t being pushed; he was retreating on his own. The opponent’s sword had come in deeper than expected, creating a gap. Yoo Hamin didn’t miss it. The tip of his wooden sword struck the side of the opponent’s ribs. Thud. The observation gallery went silent for a moment. The instructor raised a hand. “Valid.”
Yoo Hamin’s face showed pure astonishment. He looked like he couldn’t believe he had actually landed the hit. I leaned on the railing and let out a small sigh. “Good.”
At least it worked. That was all that mattered. The exam didn’t end there. The opponent, pride wounded, pressed harder. Yoo Hamin was pushed back multiple times, and once he nearly fell. But his wrist didn’t bend. He held at the point he was about to collapse, and the moment he tried to force his strength, he slipped free. One glove hadn’t suddenly made swordsmanship stronger. It had only removed one obstacle. Yet the result changed. On the final clash Yoo Hamin deflected the opponent’s sword to the side. It wasn’t perfect. His shoulder was rigid, and his foot was a little late. Still, the tip of the sword didn’t stop. The wooden sword touched the front of the opponent’s chest. The instructor stared at Yoo Hamin for a moment and said, “Passed.”
Yoo Hamin finally let out a long breath. The surroundings stirred. “Passed?” “That commoner?” “Was it because of the glove just now?”
I quietly lowered my hand. The first customer’s exam was over. The glove hadn’t broken, and his wrist looked fine. Not a bad result. No, actually far too good. He had faced the opponent head-on and won instead of barely passing.
Now I could go back. That was the thought that crossed my mind. But a small explosion erupted from the magic test section. Boom. A short burst of red flames shot up. Several applicants jumped back in surprise. I reflexively looked that way. A girl was clutching the right sleeve of her robe. The hem was blackened, and inside the fabric a red light still flickered as if embers were still alive. It wasn’t a simple magic failure. She was unable to draw power out of the robe. “Again?” “It’s dangerous.” “One of them will get hurt, won’t they?” Voices from the surrounding applicants reached me.
I checked the girl’s face. And the memory surfaced. Min Hayoung. A talented student in fire magic who kept causing accidents because of control failures. In the original novel she would burn down the East Building and disappear at the end of first year. I had thought she was just overheating back then too. But looking now it was different.
I looked at Min Hayoung’s robe. It looked like good equipment for a student using fire magic, but... mismatched between user and gear. Min Hayoung gritted her teeth and raised her hand again. The supervisor tried to stop her, moving as if to intervene. I gripped the railing. I had been about to leave. Really. I had only come to check Yoo Hamin’s glove and planned to return to the shop quietly to take a nap. But if I left it like that, the accident would happen exactly on schedule. I let out a small sigh. I had only come to check the first customer. But it seemed impossible to just pass the second one.