What an Academy Is (12)

I slammed my forehead against the cold desk and sank deep into thought.

Yesterday, today—I'd been far too emotional. The endless chain of events must have piled stress on me without my noticing. Or maybe the effects of that Dumpynight flower I'd handled the other day still lingered in my body.

In that light, the measures she'd taken for me had been the best possible choice. She'd handed me the information I needed and force-fed me a balanced meal. Thanks to that, by morning my body wasn't just fine—it felt healthier than ever. The ingredients must have been excellent. Nothing she ate was ever ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠less than a spiritual elixir. For all I knew she'd slipped some unknown medicine into it. My head felt unnaturally clear—so clear I almost mistook it for emptiness.

I went and made an unnecessary debt.

That woman was always like this. She would do anything for her own amusement. Similar to me, yet decisively twisted—a pervert. As long as it was fun she would gladly sacrifice her body and sell off her own emotions. She acted as if it would be fine even if today were the last day of her life. As a result she never cared how much the people around her suffered or grieved. If she sincerely found it entertaining, that was enough.

It was exactly like the dragons I'd only ever read about in novels, the ones who treated the world as their playground. The setting was a little different, but the essence and the power they wielded weren't so far apart. That made it all the more distasteful.

What she did wasn't patching a bottomless jar—it was pouring in more water than was leaking out. For a moment you might feel a blissful fullness that went beyond temporary satisfaction, but the worn, abraded hole only grew larger. In the end nothing would remain but a jar that could hold no water at all, completely drained dry.

Even without the power of prophecy I could tell that a twisted person's end was never pretty.

Debts were best repaid as quickly as possible. The fact that she had shown herself here meant this was no joke; it wouldn't be strange if lightning suddenly struck from a clear sky in the middle of the city and a storm whipped up. I needed power. Power. I had to grow faster, stronger—strong enough that I no longer needed her help, strong enough that I could help her instead.

I had no desire to become one of those people under her who fretted every day about when her favor might end, nursing a one-sided sense of debt and pleading with one-sided emotions. I had hated that type in my previous life, and I still did. A transaction only worked when both sides gained something. A relationship that only flowed one way wasn't a deal—it was parasitism.

"Yo! You're earlier than I expected today."

In that respect I liked this guy. If she was a tree that gave without limit, this one was a perfectly fair set of scales. He returned more than he received. His job suited that personality perfectly.

"...Just take this."

I pulled the convenience-store bag I'd hung beside the desk and handed it over. In the end I hadn't come straight to the academy; I'd detoured and ended up at a convenience store before turning back. It had reminded me that I was still suffering from muscle pain, but it had also reminded me that he'd once bought me a drink, so I decided to call it even.

Ban Taewung cracked open the can with the bizarre picture of a melon being crushed by a hand, guzzled it down, shuddered once, and exhaled.

"Khh, that refreshing melon taste! And my favorite Spirit Seal chocolate bread too—khh... This is what friends are for!"

He made a big fuss about how moved he was and polished off the chocolate bread and drink on the spot. Anyone watching would have thought he hadn't eaten in days.

"Didn't you eat?"

"No? I did. I heard all of today's classes are being replaced by ranking matches, so I only ate a little so I could practice right up to the last minute. But once training ended and I got to school I was starving. Saved me a trip to the store. Seriously, thanks."

"Ugh."

From the moment an Awakened opened their eyes to mana, every scrap of surplus energy in the body could be converted into mana. Just as resting replenished stamina, nutrients charged the energy called mana. As a result an Awakened's metabolism ran at twelve times that of a non-Awakened, and the speed at which they digested food and turned it into energy was abnormally fast. In short, no matter how much you ate you never got fat.

The accelerated metabolism improved the skin, and the natural self-protection provided by mana meant less external exposure, so aging slowed as well. The physical balance established during growth settled as naturally as possible, so unless they kept up truly bizarre diets or violent habits, every Awakened ended up with looks that put celebrities to shame. The higher the stats and the denser the mana, the more exponential that effect became. It was only natural that the overall average looks at an academy packed with self-proclaimed geniuses from around the world would be sky-high.

In other words, what that guy had done was simply ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a habit carried over from the athletes of the pre-Awakened era—keeping the body in peak condition and the mind sharp so you could focus better on combat. But for an Awakened, eating well was best. The more you ate, the faster stamina and mana recovered. There was even a method of temporarily burning stamina to refill mana, though the exchange rate was poor. On the front lines holding back the monsters pouring down from Chinese territory, when a fight looked like it would drag on they would force down high-calorie rations exceeding ten times the recommended daily intake for an adult male, along with potions, or chew gum packed with concentrated calories just to stretch combat time. In crude terms it was a form of calorie doping.

So what he'd done was meaningless and, worse, actively cutting into his own fighting strength. But it was a matter of personal preference, so I didn't criticize. If binding yourself that way let you maintain peak condition, it was still a profitable trade.

"You'll manage somehow."

"Yeah! This time I'm aiming for the top thirty."

Right—surprisingly, the protagonist was still stuck around fiftieth. Fifty-seventh, to be exact. That meant there were still fifty-six people at this point who were roughly equal to or stronger than him. Part of it was simple matchup issues or difficulty fighting people, but the bigger reason was that most of Ban Taewung's techniques started with getting hit first, so the further he went the harder it became to keep his stamina intact. Most of his skills shone brightest in a party where he could protect and support someone, or against large monsters. There was a reason the phrase "right person for the right place" existed.

No matter how superhuman an Awakened looked, they were still human. Getting hit hurt, getting sick was miserable, and getting tired was exhausting. Unless he became overwhelmingly strong enough to win without using techniques, climbing higher would be hard for the current Ban Taewung. Figuring that out and training through it was one of the ways he would grow stronger.

We kept up simple small talk until the bell rang for class. I deliberately said nothing about the people targeting the academy or the possible danger. It was already over, and even if he knew now there was nothing the current Ban Taewung could do. I had no idea what drastic move the black curtain, furious that things hadn't gone as planned, might make next, but it was fine. Unless something extreme happened it would end at her level. Conversely, if it was something we could handle ourselves she would thoroughly return to the role of spectator for the sake of her own amusement... but that wasn't my problem. Hang in there, protagonist. You need to get stronger for the sake of my peaceful future.

Come to think of it, something had felt empty—the protagonist's harem members were missing. As if they'd all made a promise, they had been absent and only slipped into the classroom at the last second with Hong Su-ah. From the look of them they hadn't rushed, so was something actually going on? I didn't particularly want to know or care, but after recent events my gaze drifted over naturally. If those girls got into danger the one who'd go berserk and throw his body into it was the protagonist. And if the protagonist blackened, the one who'd have to clean it up was me—which would be exhausting.

Please let nothing happen.

No—even if something happened, just don't let it be anything big.

I watched Hong Su-ah begin explaining the various rules while drawing up the bracket for the inter-class ranking matches, then quietly turned my eyes to the window.

Under the professors' guidance we arrived at the Third Arena. Blue-glowing pillars stood along the outer walls, making the place look like a magical colosseum. Where the First Arena existed to accommodate and utilize as many people as possible, the Third Arena was devoted solely to sparring.

The blue pillars set into each outer wall were a type of magic tool born from the fusion of modern science, mana, and the mystery of the Awakened—magic engineering. Unlike items or artifacts that carried special powers obtained as dungeon rewards, magic tools could only contain concepts and effects manifested through an Awakened's skills.

Suppose a mage with the Fire Magic skill created a magic tool containing the Tinder spell that produced a small spark. Because a magic circle was already carved into the mana stone during the crafting stage, the user could skip every step of chanting, formula construction, and casting; simply projecting mana into the recorded circle inside the tool would activate Tinder. In plain terms it was proxy use of magic—only through a tool instead of a person.

Those pillars were the same kind of magic tool. The only difference was that an absurd number of spells and skills had been packed into them—every last one focused on extending life, recovery, removing status ailments, restoring terrain, erecting barriers so damage wouldn't spill into the stands, reducing damage to designated targets, and dispersing accumulated damage. In short, they were dedicated to keeping people alive and letting others observe.

Even if you looked like you were going to die, as long as you didn't, it became experience and fertilizer. It was crude field theory, but nothing was more certain than experiencing it with your own body, so the tools had been made to provide safer real combat experience. What the academy wanted wasn't greenhouse flowers but deployable troops—sharp weapons. In a world where monsters and dungeons were everyday absurdities, force was the most reliable means and the most valuable asset.

"Everyone, equip the Barrier Cells you were issued."

I placed the palm-sized blue device against the area near my heart. It resonated with the owner's mana on its own and stuck fast. At the same time a wave of mana swept through my body as if scanning it, and the number 100 projected onto the device's surface. Ready.

It was a kind of HP display and safety device. The body's information at that moment was recorded on the server so that even if an arm was blown off or organs were destroyed they could somehow be restored. Of course the Barrier Cell's proxy function would activate before such fatal wounds could be inflicted, but in a world overflowing with every kind of mystery you still had to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

"I'll explain once more. Victory is decided when the opponent falls into a combat-incapable state, when the cell percentage reaches zero, or when a surrender is declared. Note that the moment a winner is decided the score updates and the ranking changes."

There was no talk of safety or anything of the sort. These people were here to fight. Explaining safety rules and how to shoot a gun to mercenaries about to leap onto a battlefield would have been just as foolish—none of them were ordinary civilians.

"However, if after the decision has been made you still attack your opponent with clear malicious intent, you will be expelled without exception."

Hong Su-ah's killing intent, cold enough to pierce, shot out in every direction. Most of those in the arena tensed. Even some of the faculty looked startled. I knew exactly why she was so sharp. A crime with "me" as the victim had already occurred. How deep the darkness and how vast the malice crouching behind it didn't matter. She was simply furious that such a thing had happened in the class she was responsible for.

Even for the same crime, Awakened were punished more severely than ordinary people because of the power they held. Being driven out of the academy that way wouldn't end with simple expulsion. There was a high chance of becoming a criminal or receiving an equivalent brand. Either way, obstacles would be placed on the road ahead.

She had stopped her rampage once because of Nickel, but she hadn't yielded. Instead she was moving in a different direction, more meticulously. It was clearly because she wanted to resolve this matter in her own way. Whether that was stubbornness or not remained to be seen.

"The tournament will proceed divided into four teams: A, B, C, and D. Winners may choose to continue facing other winners and climb higher, or stop there. Losers may move on to free sparring or watch other matches. All pairings are decided randomly, and no objections will be accepted."

Thud!

A stomp laced with mana resonated inside us like standing next to a giant amplifier.

"Those who show excellent results will receive appropriate rewards. Even if you lose a match your ranking does not necessarily drop. The process of the spar itself will also be scored, so display your full ability. You may experience the magic of rising in the rankings even after a loss."

At the same time a massive hologram rose into the air, displaying the tournament groups Hong Su-ah had assigned back in the classroom. They were distributed to each team and then shuffled randomly again within them.

"Please! Please let me fight an archer!!"

"A mage... a mage weaker than me, come out...!"

"Ack! Why is my entire line nothing but high ranks!?"

"Ha, ahahaha!"

While the students reacted in their own ways and began searching for their names, the faculty soothed them with the promise that notifications would be sent through their devices once placement was complete. Amid that perfect collaboration I calmly found my own name. Thanks to the skill Speed Reading, searching myself was faster than waiting for a notification.

"Found it."

Looking at it like that it really did resemble a fighting-game HP bar. Anyway, "Vagna," was it? A name famous among British knight families.

Confirming that lines had been drawn across the arena floor in an instant, dividing it into four zones, I headed straight for the area assigned to Team C. As if waiting for me, a figure suddenly appeared in front of me.

"So you're Jang Sinwoo."

First impression: a knight who looked like he'd stepped out of a painting. At his waist hung a sword engraved with the family crest. Short-cropped blond hair contrasted with pitch-black eyes that fixed on me. Even in the academy uniform the muscles of his crossed arms bulged as if asserting themselves, and whatever he'd been fed, he looked well over two meters tall. To look at his face and talk I inevitably had to tilt my head upward.

"Haa..."

A sigh escaped on its own. My height wasn't small by any means, yet this was the result. I was actually taller than the national average of my previous life. It wasn't just Ban Taewung or this man. Anyone with a physical-type job or skill ended up huge. Using the body meant growing under better conditions—that was obvious—but understanding it with my head didn't make the feeling any better. That baseless irritation was partly thanks to the way this guy was looking me over as if appraising me.

"I asked if you are Jang Sinwoo."

Hearing the sigh, his brow furrowed even tighter and he asked again. In the novels I'd read in my previous life, most people at this point would have demanded the other introduce themselves first—some event to make the protagonist's existence known to others. But I wasn't the protagonist. Having this guy fussing in front of me was already annoying enough; gathering more eyes would only make it worse. Before his voice could get any louder I nodded in acknowledgment.

"My name is Reus Vagna. Eldest son of the Vagna family, and your first sparring opponent."

"...Uh, right."

So what? Looking me up and down like he wanted something, but I had no idea what. Don't tell me he expected me to do that embarrassing routine too? Don't make me laugh. Whether it was knight play or the real thing, I had no desire to join in. Seriously.

Thud.

I tried to slip past him to the side, avoiding his gaze, but he blocked my path as if it were the most natural thing in the world. What the hell was this guy doing? His unnecessary bulk meant that just standing in front of me generated a serious amount of aggro. Everyone was already on edge because of the matches. One by one, unwelcome stares gathered, and whether I liked it or not I was drawing attention. I couldn't keep repeating this either.

The easy way out would be to return the answer the way he had introduced himself, but why should I be the one to yield? Looking up at him was already irritating; starting off by losing to the guy I was about to fight over something this trivial was even more so. I glared at him without bothering to hide my annoyance. I raised mana, ready for a contest of presence, but the expected clash of mana never came. He simply watched me with black eyes whose true intent I couldn't read, standing solid as a mountain in the middle of the path.

"Get lost."

"...I have yet to hear a proper introduction."

"You came asking my name first. Doesn't that mean you already know it? Why do you need to hear it again? Or is this some new way of picking a fight?"

Even as I spat the sharp words I withdrew my mana. He had no will to fight. I still didn't know why he'd blocked me, but even after I pressed him with mana he hadn't answered in kind. From what I could feel he wasn't lacking in mana, so refusing an Awakened's contest of presence meant either he had zero confidence in his mana or he simply had no intention of fighting at all.

"...Tch."

I clicked my tongue as if deflated and, seizing the moment while he regulated his breathing, slipped past him. This time he didn't block me.

And so, under the gaze of many, we faced each other on the arena floor. Unlike me, who was thoroughly on edge, he looked at me with a somewhat complicated expression and opened his mouth.

"I heard you were Ban Taewung's close friend, so I assumed you possessed a measure of chivalry as well, but the grain is a little different. I am glad to have learned a little about the person you are. It seems you are somewhat different from the rumors."

"What?"

The sudden nonsense made me retort before I could stop myself. I'd thought he was finally showing his true colors and starting trash talk, but his expression was nothing of the sort. It was extremely calm, almost as if he were looking at something regrettable.

"Even though you are in Class S, no one saw you during the entrance exam. When everyone fought together in the first class, you were nowhere to be seen. When the monsters ruined the lesson, you were nowhere to be seen either."

He was right. I'd been parachuted in directly by the principal, so I hadn't needed to take the exam to gain admission. For the first class I'd gone to the faculty office to complain that my class assignment was wrong and ended up delayed longer than necessary. For the last one I'd been rolling around in my own way and only learned what had happened when Hong Su-ah told me.

So there were people questioning my ability? But was that something that would turn into rumors? This place was exactly where that would be proven. Time would make it clear naturally—so why were they so worked up?

"You look like you don't understand. An unspecified number of people filed objections with the student council. Unlike the others who take this seriously, you have a poor attitude, skip classes without permission, and despite being a thug who forgets even an Awakened's duties, you cleverly slip out of every incident. They found you suspicious. They asked us to uncover the reason and the truth behind why someone like you is in Class S."

"There are people in this academy who spew that kind of crap?"

If they had a problem they could just come fight me themselves. That was exactly why the ranking system existed. This wasn't a daycare for little kids. It was closer to a military academy for training warriors. If they were going to stay here with that kind of mindset, they'd be better off packing their bags right now and looking for other work outside.

"Source?"

"It was an anonymous tip, so I don't know who. I wouldn't have known either if I hadn't joined the disciplinary committee. But the rumor spread so fast that within a day it had gone beyond the first-years to the second- and third-years, so they believe someone is deliberately spreading it."

"...You've got to be kidding me. What the fuck."

So Hong Su-ah had half-confirmed me as the culprit and directed her hostility at me not only because of my personality, but because those ugly rumors were sitting at the foundation. From my perspective this was only my third day at the academy, but the others had been able to build connections starting from the exams. There was probably an unofficial community for Sunrise Academy that I didn't know about.

The flower, the rumors—from the very beginning someone had been moving with the clear intent of screwing me over. No—the reason they'd targeted me was simply that I was a nail sticking out. Nothing draws the eye more than a protruding nail. From the culprit's perspective anyone would have done, but I happened to be convenient, so they'd used me as a bonus. Having Ban Taewung as a counterpoint made me even more useful.

Maybe the black curtain knew I was friends with Ban Taewung and deliberately emphasized it, hoping I would feel jealousy and envy toward him. Then they could approach me and use me as a disposable pawn.

It's obvious, but the problem is it would work well.

No matter how outstanding the talents gathered here, in the end it was still a collection of kids who hadn't even become adults. The stormy adolescence of people who couldn't properly control their emotions and kept colliding with one another. My personality had been twisted from the start, so that was one thing, but manipulating chicks who hadn't even properly established their own beliefs must have been ridiculously easy.

Humans were social animals no matter what. There was a reason the phrase "herd mentality" existed; human psychology was both complicated and simple.

A sudden question rose.

"...Why are you telling me this?"

"There are several reasons, but the greatest is that Ban Taewung sincerely considers you a friend."

The knight looking at me was still upright, and at the same time clear. Eyes without a single cloud—eyes that felt intensely familiar.

"The Ban Taewung I have seen is a hero rare in this age, yet at the same time an extremely realistic man. I found it hard to believe that someone such a man could truly trust would be a third-rate villain. Even if that person appeared to be a villain, there would be some reason for it."

Absolute trust in Ban Taewung underlay his words. Not abstract emotion but a voice filled with conviction. Finding that unpleasant, I shot back with a pout.

"What if Ban Taewung is a black-hearted bastard? What then?"

"I have no desire to become a blind man who judges people by rumor alone."

He shook his head firmly, rejecting my words. Faced with his conviction-filled appearance I had no choice but to furrow my brow. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I knew now. I knew where I had seen those eyes before. They were exactly like the eyes of those stubborn types who thoroughly upheld their own beliefs even in the middle of war.

"So that no one would be wronged by mere slander and fabricated schemes, so that no one would grieve, I wished to believe and prove only what I saw and felt with my own eyes, not what I heard from others. I trained myself because I wanted to become that kind of knight, and that is why I stand here now."

The knight drew the sword from his waist, slammed it into the ground with a thud, and spoke to me.

"My name is Reus Vagna! Third sharpest blade of the Vagna family, known to the people as the Knight of Proof!!"

Thud!!

He stamped his foot and leveled his sword at me; his presence changed. Mana—a vast current of mana reminiscent of blue waves—engulfed the surroundings. The calm lake of a moment ago had become a surging sea standing before me.

"To prove that my conviction is not wrong, I will come to know the person you are, right here."

Whoooosh!!

Like massive waves colliding and raising a high crest, vivid mana condensed around his sword and solidified into the form of a blade. It was a beautiful sword aura, no question—an Aura Blade. Not merely wrapping mana around a sword, but compressing the mana around it into a separate substance the way one reinforced one's own body. A true art.

"I judged that reining in a combative man like you would be easier with one good fight than a hundred words. With this body of mine I shall prove everything about you."

That declaration was arrogant yet magnanimous. A proclamation only the strong could make. Beyond absurdity I felt pure bewilderment. He was certainly extraordinary. Were all the monsters inside the top twenty like this?

At a glance his mana looked roughly equal to mine... no, a little more. Did that make any sense? A pure rear-line summoner and a knight having similar mana capacity? What it meant was that a gap of that size ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠existed between him and me. I'd been working hard in my own way, yet guys from good families who'd trained since childhood and been stuffed full of elixirs really did have a different sheen.

If I'd known it would be like this I would have fed the protagonist a few elixirs when we were kids, calling them candy. Then he'd be stronger now, right? One step closer to peace. What a shame. I'd been busy with research and figured he'd manage on his own, so outside of education I'd basically left him alone—and that had been the mistake.

Well, even if I'd given them to Ban Taewung, the moment he realized they were elixirs he'd probably refuse to eat any more and run away, or stick his fingers down his throat and dry-heave while saying he'd throw them back up. And if that didn't work he'd cry and swear he'd pay me back later. Looking back, it really had been a chance to pile more debt on the protagonist, and I'd wasted it. I wasn't the type to regret the past, but this one stung a little.

"Now! Take up your weapon, Jang Sinwoo. Face me with everything you have, for the sake of my proof."

"...Haa."

At those words I snapped out of my thoughts, lowered my head, and pressed my throbbing forehead. Too much information had come in at once; I couldn't decide what to process first. In times like that it was best to deal with what was right in front of you.

Right. First clear away that ridiculous amount of mana, then think slowly.

I raised my mana and pushed back the mana that had shamelessly saturated the surroundings. If his mana was a rough wave, I would become the massive rock that wave could never overcome. More solidly, more powerfully—so thoroughly that it could never challenge me again.

"Shut up and come at me."

As I swept my hair back, I concentrated mana into the shadow that sprang from my grip.

Gulp!

Black shadows scattered along my mana. Darkness that ignored the laws of physics instantly grew and soaked into my entire body; the beige-toned uniform dyed pure black. I layered my hands and solidified the one most familiar to my current grip.

Clank.

A black steel pipe. Because the shaping of shadows depended entirely on my imagination, it appeared exactly as it always had—rough, with bandages wrapped around it in a clumsy finishing job. I rested it on my shoulder and raised my free hand into the air, condensing mana.

"Don't come crying later saying you're sorry."

You brought this on yourself.

"Hive. Growl."

I spoke the two names that had already stuck completely to my tongue and flicked my fingers.