What They Call an Academy

In the end, I managed to achieve my initial goals to a decent degree—picking up skills and farming experience for Kallion.

He had charged in far more recklessly than I expected, but looking purely at the results, his level had climbed nicely and his skills had sharpened up solidly.

Still, if I kept running him through the Goblin's Lair like this, that pride and stubbornness of his would only swell further.

This guy needed to taste something tougher.

His first real enemies had been goblins weaker than him, and he had thoroughly trampled them. Drunk on his own excellence, he had started looking down on dungeons themselves.

Those miserable wounds were the proof.

Healing them had drained a considerable amount of mana. He was probably feeling the strain himself by now. If I hadn't taken down the boss and cleared the dungeon, there was a high chance he would have been whittled down and killed right there.

Ending up like that against mere goblins? Unforgivable.

The Canyon of Hidden Scales is... the enemies are too strong.

I needed a place where he could fight on roughly even footing while also learning a healthy respect for labyrinths.

Right now he probably didn't even understand why he was getting scolded. He had lowered his head only because my mood was foul and because Growl—who hadn't been there at the start—was now at my side.

He bowed because we held overwhelming power. Flip that around, and he would grow endlessly arrogant and cocky toward anyone weaker. Dragon-like, sure—but I hadn't chosen him so I could watch those ugly traits bloom.

"...I've decided."

Instead of re-entering the Goblin's Lair, I stepped outside and headed for the area with the D-rank dungeons.

Since they were treated as skills, they would transfer with me automatically when I moved dungeons. No need to herd them along. Having them throng around would only make the narrow corridors more of a mess.

Most E-rank dungeons were designed to give a light taste of real combat, monster fights, and the despair that dungeon variety could bring. From D-rank onward, things got serious about what a dungeon truly was.

Honestly, up through E-rank you could clear them to some extent just by thrashing your body around even without skills. The fact that the early quest in the Goblin's Lair only required twenty kills made that obvious to anyone with half a brain.

D-rank was different. It shifted so sharply that clearing became nearly impossible unless you understood and used the unique mysteries of this world—skills.

Among them, the D-rank I chose was the Gladiator's Arena.

As the name suggested, every battle inside was strictly one-on-one. In format it was close to the tournament I'd gone through that morning, but this was a dungeon—no rest periods. Defeat one enemy and the next appeared immediately.

The higher you climbed, the stronger the opponents grew.

Inevitably, someone beyond your ability would appear at the end. That was the boss of the Gladiator's Arena. That was all the information I had dug up.

One thing to watch: even if you entered as a party, only one person actually fought. And the opponent facing the "champion" would relentlessly target a weakness that champion could theoretically overcome.

In short, you walked in with one weakness already exposed to the enemy.

Of course, being D-rank, the final boss's power wouldn't climb past D, but having a counter card in the enemy's hand was still a pain.

What let you handle something like that was technique and wisdom.

Even with a counter card, it was still an "overcomable weakness." If you understood your own skills, lured the enemy in, and turned that weakness against them, victory was possible.

I wanted Kallion to recognize his own flaws here and show me he could improve. If he couldn't, I would have to seriously consider changing direction.

I was putting my faith in that Intelligence of his, which had just risen to 6.

Without hesitation I entered the dungeon. The prickling air unique to arid land hit me along with the blazing sunlight.

"Woof."

Growl, who had somehow taken position behind me, stepped forward and blocked the sun. At the same time he scanned the surroundings for enemies—the practiced movements of someone who had traveled with me for a while.

His instincts really were sharp. Intelligence of 5 and still this good? Honestly impressive.

Kallion, meanwhile, was crouched low, hissing as he warily checked every direction. Not bad in itself, but with a perfect answer sheet standing right next to him it only made him look worse.

I knew they were different, yet I kept comparing them. I wondered if I was being overly sensitive, then realized even that thought meant I was getting too emotionally invested. I shook my head hard to clear it.

Wooooooooaaaaah!!!!

Unlike the usual flat system messages, this one carried real emotion, and a deafening roar of cheers followed.

Bam! Bababababam! Bampabaaaam!!

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!!!

Music blared in time, and countless feet stomped until the ground itself shook.

Kallion, feeling something completely new, flinched and pressed tight against my back. Growl bared his fangs and began a low growl, as if recalling the Nightshade battles.

Looking closer, that message wasn't the system at all—it was a voice booming through some kind of loudspeaker. Yeah, the real system would never talk that colorfully.

The voice that usually rang in my head was an ambiguous pitch with no clear gender or age. Once you heard it the content stuck in your mind, yet the voice itself somehow vanished from memory. A miraculous little bastard.

Pop! Pop!

Fireworks burst in time with the atmosphere, and the real system finally appeared.

"An event dungeon."

A special type where, success or failure, you could leave freely once the event ended.

Unlike quest-type dungeons there was no required quota, so at first glance it looked easy—yet it came packed with even more vicious traps and harsh restrictions.

In this dungeon the vicious trap was Exposing the Challenger's Weakness, and the harsh restriction was Fight Without Rest.

Why did a dungeon like this exist inside the academy? Because there were plenty of windbags like Kallion who couldn't even take care of themselves yet strutted around full of hot air.

Professors and instructors kept a close eye on those types and dumped them in here.

Broken pride naturally turned into rage, aimed at the faculty who had thrown them in—but the childish cries of fledglings never reached those ears.

If anything, you were lucky if they didn't threaten expulsion unless you erased the Loser's Brand.

Curious what that brand did? Simple.

While it was stamped on you, all experience for levels and skills was locked.

Experience still accumulated. It just never converted into actual level-ups while the brand remained.

There was only one way to remove it.

Defeat every opponent from the start all the way to the champion with your own power. Then the Loser's Brand vanished, and you even received gear that helped growth.

Of course the rewards for clearing the champion without ever receiving the brand were bigger and better—but if that were easy, this dungeon wouldn't be used as the faculty's dumping ground, nor would it be so infamous.

Still, after grinding effort upon effort and finally seizing victory to erase the brand, the rush you felt was beyond imagination. Having every last scrap of hardship straighten out that rotten personality was just a bonus.

"Growl, stand by. Kallion, you're up."

"Grrrr?"

Growl settled into a shaded spot as if used to this, curling his body so I could lie down comfortably. Kallion, meanwhile, started bouncing with pure excitement, as if asking whether he was really allowed to go.

Whatever wariness he'd shown earlier had vanished. Watching him hop around so happily left me speechless.

Well, he could only feel that way right now. My heart was already steeled. It was like tossing a young lion off a cliff, but I had no doubt this would lead to Kallion's growth.

"...Ahh, I think I understand a little how the faculty feel when they dump problem kids in here."

There was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠magic dungeon that spat out results—reformed or not—just by shoving them in. How could anyone resist using it?

I covered my face with both hands, walked over to where Growl sat, and flopped down fully. He had grown large enough that even with me sprawled out there was still plenty of room.

"Go."

I couldn't watch that pure joy any longer. I jerked my chin and sent Kallion off.

And go figure out exactly what kind of state you're in.

Irresponsible? Maybe. But as someone who couldn't find a more efficient way to teach this thick-skulled lizard, this was the best I had. Just know that.

He wasn't the type who learned by getting hit until he understood. He was the genuine article who kept slamming his body into walls until he discovered there were things even body-slamming couldn't solve. So the only option was to make him suffer until that lesson sank in.

"...Do your best."

As long as you don't die, I'll keep you alive. Ask for advice and I'll listen gladly. So come back knowing yourself properly. Otherwise you won't even be able to stand at the starting line.

I watched Kallion's back as he dashed excitedly into the arena, hoping he would break as little as possible and figure things out quickly.

Only then would the Intelligence points I'd invested mean something!

Prove that I didn't raise it just to expand your mana pool! Hang in there, Kallion. I'll be over here munching popcorn.

"Oh, starting right away."

Thud!

The moment Kallion stepped inside the line drawn at the center of the arena, the wide-open iron grate crashed down in a cloud of sand. At the same time the bright, cheerful march twisted into something sharp and rock-like that tore at the ears.

The change made listeners tense while making hearts pound for the spectators. I couldn't help but admire it. This was more hardcore than expected. Entertaining to watch.

Moments like this made it clear this world leaned closer to games than novels or comics. Not that I was certain.

In my previous life, novels about VR and virtual-reality games had been everywhere. Stories about transmigrating or reincarnating into game or comic worlds had been the most popular of all.

My current situation was pretty similar. I still didn't know what this world even was, or why I had been chosen for it.

Dududung!!

Fireworks and a hologram bloomed in midair.

A goblin wearing a red cap burst through the holographic red forest as if sprinting between the trees.

He spun a full circle in midair with flashy flair, loosed the crossbow on his back skyward, then drew the sickle and sword at his waist and sliced every arrow he had just fired. He landed lightly and adjusted his cap.

"Keh-heh..."

One hell of a flashy entrance.

I wasn't surprised by the system message. The monsters here were limited in number, so they were all compressed into named variants. Thanks to the arena's identity, the focus was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heavily on quality over quantity.

The dungeon maker who modified the academy's dungeons had probably wanted to hammer that point home.

"Let's see how well he fights."

Actually, it was good that this was the opponent. Or maybe this opponent only appeared because of the current Kallion. To him, goblins were still worthless things he could trample at will.

That arrogance that slipped out without him noticing was Kallion's greatest weakness.

And the fact that this red-capped bastard was a Ranger who mixed long and short range also targeted Kallion's physical-fighter blind spot. The last time I'd seen Kallion, he'd been full of arrows.

Probably the same type of bow-using goblin from the lair. The goblin thief had likely been drawn in by Kallion's rampage in the first place.

After all, the ones who first encounter the enemy and warn of danger are the scouts.

"How's he going to fight?"

I figured he'd just charge in with raw physical attacks.

"Grrrrrr!!!"

Sure enough, Kallion scraped the ground with his hind legs like a bull about to charge, then exploded forward in a mad rush. The Red Cap watched with leisurely "keh-heh" laughter and calmly aimed his crossbow.

"Guh!"

In response Kallion's scales flashed and began to grow. They swelled like armor, looking every bit the dragon.

He had used the skill Reverse Scale.

Normally a reverse scale was the single scale on a dragon that grew the wrong way—its weak point. The skill Reverse Scale seemed designed to compensate: when activated, every scale except the reverse one strengthened at once.

The jagged, armor-like scales were incredibly hard, and could even be used as weapons themselves.

Ting! Ting!

Kallion casually deflected the rain of arrows. The Red Cap Belbra didn't seem bothered; he simply retreated with practiced footwork while reloading.

Ting! Ting-ting!

Kallion chased the fleeing enemy; the Red Cap slipped away with ease and kept shooting.

Thwung!!

At this rate it would become an endless war of attrition. As if adding a variation, the fourth arrow the Red Cap fired—while still controlling the pace—carried an unusually heavy sound.

The impact forced Kallion's feet into the ground and slowed him. Looking closer, that fourth arrow was a different, reddish color, and it had pierced straight through his scales.

He had a skill that could fire conditionally enhanced arrows. The movements were prepared so thoroughly to target Kallion's weakness that I couldn't help clicking my tongue. At this rate, attrition or not, Kallion would lose.

"Grrrr...!!"

He seemed to realize it too and poured more speed into his legs.

Thud!!

Every stomp made the ground boom like an earthquake. In that moment a strange light flickered in Kallion's eyes, and his scales grew even larger until his body nearly doubled in size.

At the same time I felt a faint mana signature and knew he had activated the skill Dragon Blood. Even as a sub-dragon, Kallion's blood carried a dragon's power. Temporarily awakening and using it was the skill's effect.

Thanks to that latent dragon power his bulk swelled. Normally speed should have dropped, yet strangely Kallion only grew faster and rougher.

"Keh?"

Sensing something wrong, the Red Cap fired even faster, but the arrows couldn't even scratch the scales and clattered uselessly to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ground. The fourth red arrow was no different.

Unable to keep up with the sudden change, the Red Cap's feet grew frantic. Kallion seized that exact opening, coiled power into his legs, and launched himself off the earth.

KRAAAANG!!!

The ground exploded as the massive body dropped from the sky. With the distance closed to nothing, the Red Cap panicked, loosed more arrows, then realized they were useless and drew his sword to meet the charge.

Whoooosh

The decision was right—and wrong at the same time. He should have chosen to dodge before drawing the blade. A dull sound of wind being split rang out from the other side.

Whoosh!!

At the same moment a razor-sharp wave of air tore through, and the Red Cap's head burst into pieces. The remaining body shuddered once, then collapsed, staining the ground red.

The cause needed no explanation: Kallion's tail, its scales grown sharp as armor. The way he handled that tail looked practiced—he must have taken a real liking to it and used it often afterward.

Wooooooooaaaaah!!!

"Grrrrrrr!!!!"

Cheers erupted with the commentary, and the victory-drunk lizard rose onto his hind legs and roared. I felt a sense of wrongness. He was still burning mana. Could he even maintain that?

The more powerful a skill, the more mana it devoured. A guy with already low Intelligence burning through it so recklessly would hit mana exhaustion in no time.

"Grr...?"

Sure enough, his body began shrinking in real time as the mana ran dry. Unable to adjust to the sudden loss of power, he staggered and plopped down on the spot.

His gaze wandered as if the world were spinning. Classic mana-deficiency symptoms.

Even in that state he kept blinking hard and shaking his head, trying to clear the dizziness. That mental fortitude alone was worth acknowledging—but if he had simply released the skill earlier, he never would have needed the experience.

And this dungeon was not kind enough to miss that opening.

Clank! Thud!!

"Guooooooaaaargh!!!!"

The gate opened and a giant with green skin strode in. Over two meters tall, packed solid with muscle—the very definition of massive.

Most of all, the arms that matched his moniker were grotesquely huge, thicker than any ordinary log.

Just looking at him felt like staring at a gorilla with different skin color.

But his race was orc. That pig-like head was the proof. I had no idea where a mutant like this had come from, but he was bizarre as hell.

"So after the matchup disadvantage comes a pure contest of strength?"

Of course, not all strength was equal.

He looked like a gorilla-pig, but his race was still demi-human like goblins, closer to humanoid. In height and build the opponent held the clear physical advantage.

The weakness being exploited this time was probably "the limits of a beast's form."

A monster's body certainly had benefits, but a humanoid form offered even more. He would try to use that superiority to crush Kallion.

"Not bad."

In fact, for a Kallion whose mind was already foggy from burning mana against the Red Cap, this would be a serious threat. Even if he lost here it was fine. Through this he would naturally learn the danger of handling mana carelessly.

No matter how I looked at it, choosing this place had been the right call.

"Grrrr... grr..."

Even he seemed to realize this was bad; he turned a pitiful gaze toward me. I answered coldly.

"You chose this. Face it properly. Enemy incoming."

"G-grrr..."

"Guooooooaaaargh!!!!!!!!"

Seeing my attitude wouldn't budge, Kallion forced his trembling body up and burned pure killing intent toward Big Fist Gralt.

He couldn't take his anger out on me, so he was dumping it on the alternative. It was both cute and absurd. The kid still had a long way to go before he got his head on straight.

Two at most, if I push him to the limit.

Any more and he would collapse completely. Looking that exhausted was because his mana was gone, not his stamina.

Later, if he took a critical wound, I could briefly throw Growl in, heal him up, then put him back on the grind.

Once I said I would do it, I saw it through to the end. There was no room for thin emotions like pity in between. In iron-blooded, rigid discipline, the only one allowed to be generous was me.

"Grrrrrr!!!"

"Guooooooargh!!!"

Boom! Grinding!!

Kallion rose onto two legs and met the massive palm crashing down to flatten him, even using his tail to hold the contest of strength.

Seriously, does nobody sell popcorn around here?

Since ancient times, the best fights to watch weren't the high-level ones—they were the ones where two absolute scrubs went at it.

Watching Kallion refuse to yield or bend even while dripping sweat, I propped my chin on one hand and slowly stroked Growl's head with the other.

The soft fur that slipped through my fingers with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a rustling sound was downright addictive. Enjoying this long-overdue leisure and entertainment, I let every bit of tension leave my body and sank deeper into Growl's embrace.

Ahh, perfect.

I never thought I'd feel peace inside a dungeon. I could feel Growl's sharp gaze on me from the side, but I ignored it. Don't worry. As long as you keep performing properly, you'll never get put through that.

So mind your manners. Got it?