006. Where'd That Guy Come From to Look Like That?
Goblins—honestly, the last time I'd dealt with them was ages ago. Back when we first formed the hero party and they were feeding me combat experience to get me started. They were the first monsters I ever killed.
Well, I haven't really had to fight them much since then.
Sure, I'd occasionally take out a few as side gigs while slicing through demons left and right, but I never had to fight goblins one-on-one. These things were low-level enough for garrison troops and mercenaries to handle, not a hero. My sword had gotten way too expensive to waste on goblins one by one.
-Kreek.
-Kick, grrrk.
They were creepy-looking bastards no matter how many times I saw them. Their pissy green faces were bad enough, but for their small size, they were brutally vicious. Kidnapping villagers day in and day out to boost their numbers—these insane breeding monsters were humanity's enemies in a whole different way from demons. Spot one, kill it on sight.
So, how should I handle these?
They were illusions conjured by magic, so no qualms about killing them. The only issue was how much of my strength to show. A minor problem stemming from first impressions.
The Goddess of Order holds great anticipation for the hero's true hidden power! (^_^)
More like true hidden power than some "power stealth mode," but as a former hero, going all-out on goblins felt wrong. Sure, I cared about the eyes on me, but yeah, basically an efficiency issue. I could work miracles with just a fraction of my strength. No need to show everything.
I tapped my scabbard lightly, pondered for a moment, and made my decision. If I currently had about 10% of my prime strength from back in the day, then...
Why not just use that 10%?
"May the blessings of the goddess be with you."
Habitually offering a prayer to the goddess, I murmured inwardly.
Truth be told, goblins and hobgoblins aren't even worth 1% of my real power.
Shing—
I drew my sword.
By the time the illusion magic unleashed the demonic beasts and every student in the classroom was scrambling, Combat Department Professor Shin Arin was no longer there. She'd moved to the conference room.
S-rank hunter and high ranker—impressive titles, but she was purely physical. She knew how to counter magic, but manifesting and observing it? Not her expertise.
"Oh, you finally made it."
"I was starting to think you'd bailed."
"Hey hey, come on, quick."
In other words, she needed help. The conference room was filled with dozens of floating screens, and more people than she'd expected. Shin Arin clicked her tongue.
Should've just been the magic department folks, but it looked like every Combat Department professor had shown up too.
"I had to tidy up the classroom first."
"We know, we know."
"Arin, grab a seat already. Can't miss your kids in action as their advisor."
"Yeah, yeah."
Shin Arin squeezed into the crowded space and stared at the glowing blue screens. The confrontation had just started with the goblins appearing, and some major professors were already chattering excitedly.
"Man, level test time again this year."
"Golems last year, but they lowered the difficulty and upped the numbers this time."
"Last year was brutal. You need discernment even if you can't win, but golems are too tanky."
"Yeah, and live creatures are better than objects. Kids smash things fine, but monsters? Plenty freak out at living ones."
"Plus, even lowly goblins let you check 1vMany response."
Shin Arin nodded along vaguely, confirming no anomalies, then glanced sideways. The visiting professors were buzzing with excitement, but the Magic Department prof who'd designed and deployed the illusion sat impassive, just watching. Mages were usually sensitive types— was this one okay?
"Kids not used to real combat panic at numbers, and totally freeze on hobgoblins."
"Unless they've home-practiced, it's expected, right?"
"Yeah, noble kids always prep. Heh, world's gotten cushy."
"Back in the 20th century, breaks everywhere, cities overflowing, economies tanking—constant chatter. Now? Total leisure."
"Youngsters don't know our grind."
As the talk veered to the 20th century, Shin Arin narrowed her eyes and leaned back. What the hell, these old hags. Teasing her as one of the "young ones" like always? Their usual nagging hid barbs like that. Their smirks were annoying.
If my old teachers weren't still kicking, I'd flip the table on all of 'em.
And gauging student levels as grade advisor mattered more than their entertainment. Her current rank and hunter grade outstripped theirs, but as a former student under them, griping felt awkward.
Just this once, I'll hold it in.
Suppressing a sigh, Shin Arin refocused on the screens showing the illusion. The other profs watched every one too, despite the banter. The standoff didn't last—the freshmen and goblins clashed soon enough.
The battles' shapes and levels revealed themselves quickly.
"Hmm, definitely."
"Well-trained kids are clean."
Among dozens of cadets and screens, standouts shone. So-called geniuses with exceptional talent. Tuning out the noise, Shin Arin zeroed in on every display, her gaze sharpening.
—Area-wide designation. Rapid freeze.
The ice flower from the Blue Tower proved her unique mana and spell speed by flash-freezing the goblin pack the moment standoff ended. Fast and solid. Impressive for a barely-20-year-old, considering how many mages failed at one or the other.
Other screens showed destructive finishes—not quite as quick, but wrapping up. Explosions rocked—
—Boom, boooom!
The shaman borrowing spirit power crushed goblins mercilessly with brute force. Similarly, the summoner from noble house Alavad had her iron mass pulverizing goblins into hobgoblin warriors.
—Crunch.
But one scene was oddly heterogeneous in destruction. Similar strategy, yet somehow off-putting.
"Oh, that's this year's top freshman?"
"Black magic's different, alright."
"That chant activation was a novel approach."
Goblin corpses twisted, bleeding out. Hobgoblin warriors shriveled instantly, moisture drained. The darkness that wrought it slipped into shadows. The girl—its owner—stared at the blue screen with the same serene smile she'd worn declaring from the podium.
"When did level tests turn into horror flicks?"
"Shady kid."
Shin Arin half-agreed with the profs' chatter. Black magic lent itself to crime, but this girl seemed slyer. Eerily composed.
...But she's top freshman for a reason. Top-tier school material.
Quick from intent to cast, but the spell's power was overkill. Unlike the Blue Tower genius, this could've wasted orcs, maybe trolls. Goblin-fodder strength was a shame.
"Heard this class called the golden generation."
"Same old hype, but this one's solid."
Muttering that, the profs scanned others, landing on one screen. With the pre-vetted stars done, they hunted dark horses—and one stood out. Unlike struggling cadets brawling goblins, this boy watched the green monsters leisurely.
"What? Where'd that guy come from, looking like that?"
"Enrolled solo, no connections."
"No way?!"
"Dude's a magazine cover."
Too handsome, even Shin Arin nearly nodded. No—maintain advisor dignity. Shaking her head, she refocused.
Swordsman, as expected.
Sword at his waist. Goblins giggled closer like it scared them off; he toyed with the hilt, eyeing them.
"Model pose, but too chill for a swordsman."
"Slower than you, Arin."
"Professors, seriously. Focus."
"Ahem."
"Right, got it, Professor."
Finally snapping, Shin Arin refocused—but too late. The sword was out. A crescent slash bit air, teeth bared, severing the nearest goblin's neck.
——Slice.
Casual, killing-intent-free single stroke. The hobgoblin's eyes widened in realization; other goblins flinched late. Once swinging, the blade danced like flowing water.
Linked dance. Each directional flow lopped off one or two heads. On the illusory blue meadow, monster blood bloomed red flowers and smoke. Flashily ephemeral, yet zero wasted motion in lethal arcs.
Shin Arin, who'd honed her body lifelong to the peak, grasped its worth. Eyes wide in shock.
...That's a man—no, a freshman newbie?
Regardless of outside observers, the blade dance continued. Cleaving outer monsters, it plunged center—batting limbs, daggers, heads. Midway, even elbows and legs joined for grapples, absurdly efficient and adept.
—Keeek, kreeeh...!
A panicked hobgoblin fled, blade embedding in its skull.
"Ah."
She couldn't even glance at other students, utterly entranced.