It's Called an Academy
“The Exploration mission is to last five hours inside a specially crafted virtual dungeon. We’ve poured the absolute essence of magecraft into every barrier—climate, terrain, the monsters that appear, even sudden natural-disaster events. You’ll experience it all! Treasure exists too. Find it and it’s yours. If you can find it, that is!! Kahahahaha!!!”
“The Monster Studies mission is observation. Enter the virtual dungeon, study how the monsters live, what thoughts drive their actions, and what strengths and weaknesses they possess. Write a report, then craft a strategy that exploits those weaknesses and successfully hunt them yourselves.”
A bronze-skinned man laughing with the hearty abandon of a seasoned adventurer and a woman who looked like a textbook scholar—the kind whose blood would refuse to flow even if you stabbed her—adjusted her glasses as she spoke.
Those were the missions set by the professors of Exploration and Monster Studies respectively.
The moment the hour was up and the shadow restraints released me, I flung the cat that had been using my entire body as a scratching post onto the floor and strode straight out of the classroom.
Behind me came the usual whining about animal abuse. I ignored it.
My destination was the Second Training Ground.
Since both subjects overlapped so heavily, the two professors had cheerfully accepted the insane suggestion of simply combining the spaces instead of splitting the arena in half. Better to share one large area than waste time on two awkwardly cramped ones.
That was why I had just sat through both explanations at once.
Of course, listening only made me want to do neither. Both reeked of “you’re probably going to get dragged into something dangerous.” Who in their right mind would volunteer for that?
I had somehow ended up taking both classes, but the kids who only chose one of them—what the hell had they done to deserve this?
“...I’ll take the challenge.”
“Ohh! That spirit deserves praise! Here—affix this crystal to your chest. When five hours pass and it turns completely black, you’ll be ejected from the barrier automatically. No need to worry about overtime! Every monster inside is a hologram overlaid with illusions, so you won’t take real wounds! It’ll still hurt like absolute hell, though!! Kahahaha!!”
“You will investigate the Lugaru that have nested in the mountain range of the Night Zone. Reports say they grow especially violent every night the moon rises.”
Normally they would have handed out Barrier Cells, but after yesterday’s incident they were substituting the military-issue supply crystals used in combat drills. Performance was roughly the same, though the military versions were stricter—nitpicking even the tiniest things a Barrier Cell would have waved through. That was the only real difference.
Both professors were clearly reading from a script, yet the stiff delivery made them sound exactly like NPCs handing out quests. Since I had to pick one anyway, I sighed, accepted, and stepped into the virtual dungeon.
Vwooom!!
My body floated as if weightless, then a strange suction yanked me in from the navel upward. An instant later the air against my skin changed.
What should have been a mild spring day still carrying the last bite of late frost had become the bone-deep chill of midwinter. Clutching my throbbing head, I immediately wrapped myself in mana and clothed my body in shadow.
The cold and the unnatural air vanished at once.
The scenery remained the same, yet I could now see the magic writhing across the surface of the shadows, constantly trying to invade me.
Illusion magic, huh.
High-level illusions could even reproduce sensation. Not that the illusion became real—more like it forcibly dredged up matching memories from the victim’s mind. Human senses were born from memory and the five senses. Layer a hologram for visual realism, then use illusion to fool the rest, and the result was indistinguishable from reality. Concentrate enough mana and even touch could be faked. There was probably no more realistic virtual reality than this.
Of course, the technique was only possible because the Second Training Ground had been purpose-built for virtual combat.
“The upkeep costs must be insane, though.”
Whether magic tools or anything else, mana was required to run them. Sometimes people powered them, but most facilities used high-quality mana-stone batteries. Think of it like every household having a boiler that simply needed a mana stone dropped in to extract the energy. The Academy, given its size, was constantly drawing the mana equivalent of an entire city.
Where did they get that many stones? From the byproducts of the dungeon sitting right inside the Academy grounds.
Unless someone had a special use for them like me, most people simply sold the stones at the Academy exchange for cash. Even the auction house for trading items was linked to the outside world and ran at full throttle; I’d heard the fees alone were more than enough to cover maintenance. Source: that woman.
Just remembering the way she had pouted with those icy eyes, calling the auction house a pack of thieves for skimming money simply for arranging seats, still sent a chill down my spine.
Mana-stone batteries weren’t limited to Academy facilities either. Most of the era’s technology was steadily replacing electricity with mana. When this body had still been young it hadn’t been this extreme, but at some point the supply of mana batteries had exploded. I didn’t need to name who was behind that.
Probably something along the lines of “Spending time on boring stuff like this is no fun,” followed by half-forced acceleration of civilization. The technicians had been ground into paste for it. Watching them scurry around the labs day and night had looked uncomfortably like a black mage reanimating undead with curses.
Just recalling those days made my skin crawl.
“Got the gist.”
Once my body adjusted to the change, I started walking.
To complete the Monster Studies mission I needed to find the Lugaru, which meant reaching the Night Zone. Looking up, the sky was stuck in a perpetual late-afternoon glow, somewhere near noon.
If I kept heading toward the setting sun I would eventually reach the area simulating night. Still, a little scouting first.
“Hive.”
“Caw.”
The Hive perched on my shoulder spread its wings and a flock of shadow crows burst out, flapping away. The instant they did, a sharp, flute-like whistle cut through the air from the far side.
I dropped low, senses sharpened—and one of the crows flying ahead was struck by something and winked out of existence.
Fast.
Even after I ordered them to scatter, the crow beside it was hit and vanished as well. My stats had just jumped by eight points, yet the feeling was anything but pleasant.
Thud! Thud-thud-thud-thud!
One became two, two became ten. At that point the boosted Perception finally let me lock onto the flying projectiles.
Iron spheres?
Not ordinary ones. Matte, perfectly smooth balls that looked like they belonged in a science lab were darting around like living creatures, slaughtering the crows.
When I flooded the sky with even more crows, the spheres finally hesitated and began to drop.
Snap!
Watching them fall, I immediately summoned Growl and charged.
“Kyuing...?”
Whether from the sudden surge of stats or simply unused to the overflowing power, Growl tilted its head once before its legs started moving.
The skill Combat Focus must have kicked in; I was reading the surrounding scenery with crystal clarity even at this speed.
Whoosh! Clang!!
An iron ball aimed at me as I raced toward the target. I smashed it aside with a staff of shadow.
My enhanced stats sent the sphere burying itself in the dirt, but of course it bounced right back up and came at me again.
“Tch.”
Persistent bastard. Ordinary methods weren’t going to stop or destroy it. Time for mana. I stretched my shadow into a tennis-racket shape, caught the incoming sphere, and flooded it with mana, forcing the energy inside.
It thrashed like it was trying to tear free of the sticky, spider-web shadow, but I poured more mana in and crushed the resistance. The sphere’s movements grew sluggish.
Apparently the skill Trap Installation had decided this counted as capturing an enemy and started lending its weight.
Kiiiiiiing!!!
Realizing it couldn’t escape, the metal began grinding out a hideous screech of friction as it tried to shred the shadow away. Too bad for it—I was half-immune to that sort of attack.
Thanks to the boosted stats I was being forcibly tempered whether I liked it or not. Blessing or curse? I still couldn’t decide, but for now “good enough” would do. I’d think about it later.
Rustle.
From the bushes beyond the completely still sphere came the sound of movement. Growl launched itself faster than I could give the order, claws flashing. A dull impact rang out, followed by something being flung away.
“Hhk...!”
At the accompanying groan I dropped from Growl’s back and shot out a tendril of shadow, binding the enemy in an instant.
“Kyaup...!”
Wrapped like a cocoon, the captive glared up at me through tears. A girl whose face carried a faint sense of déjà vu. Definitely someone from Class S.
I had no idea why she had attacked me, but people didn’t need good reasons to swing first. Still, it was annoying. I formed a shadow blade and moved to stab the crystal on her chest.
“Mmph! Mmmmph!!!”
My complete lack of hesitation seemed to startle her; she shook her head wildly, trying to plead. I frowned.
“Is there any reason I should go easy on someone who attacked first without a word?”
“...Mmph, hnnngh...”
She was saying something, but with her mouth sealed I couldn’t make it out. I didn’t particularly want to know, and knowing would probably just be a hassle. No criminal ever lacked a sob story once they were caught.
Whatever.
Still, I needed information about the inside of this place. Even if her motives were obvious, I had to hear her out. I released only the shadow covering her mouth. She immediately gasped for air.
“...I’m sorry. A monster suddenly appeared and I thought you were one of them. I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”
“No reason I should believe that.”
“It’s true!! Attacking first was my fault, but I didn’t want to do it!! Please believe me...!”
Something was definitely off. Separately, I didn’t like her tone. I brought the tip of the blade closer to the crystal. Her face drained of color.
“S-stop! I was wrong. No—I was wrong, sir. Please don’t. Please. I don’t want to see that horrible thing again...!”
The reaction was pure PTSD, the kind I’d seen a thousand times in my previous life.
We would drag some poor bastard back from the front lines only for him to start swinging at allies the moment he was somewhere safe, convinced he was still in the meat grinder. Sedatives would finally put him down, and the next day he’d claw open his own arteries. After enough of those, the custom became simple: if you couldn’t save them cleanly, you made it quick right there on the spot.
The girl hyperventilating in front of me looked exactly like that. Knock her out now and she would almost certainly follow the same path. The memory I had been trying not to recall came flooding back.
“...Haa.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please... just once. I’m begging you.”
Bound hand and foot, she crawled like a caterpillar and slammed her forehead into the dirt. The sight left a bitter taste. What the hell had she seen to make her this desperate?
I could have ignored it. I couldn’t. Old memories had dragged old habits out with them; there was no other explanation. In the end the answer I gave myself was simple.
Listen first.
“Give me an explanation I can accept.”
“Y-yes... I will. I will, so... hic...”
The relief that I was willing to hear her out seemed to loosen the tension; she started sobbing. The sight irritated me, so I covered her entire face with shadow again, leaving only a breathing hole.
She flinched at first, then realized I wasn’t going to do anything else and simply breathed until the tears stopped.
“...Mmph.”
When she mumbled that she was calm, I removed the shadow. Embarrassment at having panicked colored her cheeks; she carefully avoided my eyes.
“Explain.”
“I understand... sir...”
The forced honorifics while she watched my expression were annoying, but I didn’t call her on it. I simply listened in silence while she stammered through the story.
Once she realized I wasn’t going to interrupt, her breathing steadied, and by the end she was speaking almost normally.
“...That’s what happened.”
Tap. Tap.
I crossed my arms and drummed a finger. The summary was simple. She had seen an illusion—specifically the kind that poked at trauma.
My crows had overlapped with the massacre from yesterday in her mind.
Ban Taewung had subdued her quickly, so the mental contamination had been lighter than most. Ironically, that lighter touch meant she remembered everything with perfect clarity.
Having her common sense rewritten against her will by mental pollution, then being forced to cut down the comrades standing right beside her with her own hands, had been pure hell for her.
She had been unlucky enough to still be under the effects of the mind-clouding mist. My Hive’s shadow crows had been the trigger, and the scene from that day had manifested as a hallucination right in front of her.
Trauma ignited, she had desperately tried to deny the act of betraying the friends she had been laughing with only moments earlier by slaughtering every monster she could find. When the monsters ran out she grew frantic and naturally turned her sights on the shadow crows. She hadn’t wanted to. If she had known, she never would have. That was the whole story.
I sighed. In the end there was no grand reason. Just a personal failure born of her own lack of ability, repeated.
Not worth any more of my time. I raised the blade without hesitation.
She panicked again, then slumped in resignation. She had realized it too—her explanation wasn’t something I would accept.
“...Am I just not cut out for this?”
Her self-deprecating voice was almost pitiful.
I could respect the grit of diving straight back into a mission after something like that, but looking at her now it was hard to see it as anything more than charging forward because she couldn’t stand the self-loathing. Pure resignation. The word fit her perfectly.
“Bullshit.”
Her bowed shoulders flinched. I didn’t care what expression she was making. This much I had to say.
“Instead of wallowing, work harder. If once isn’t enough, do it twice, three times—until those memories can’t drag you around anymore. Grind yourself until the flesh is raw, torn, and burst, until it turns into calluses, and then say that kind of crap.”
I slowly drove the shadow blade into the crystal. Even without much force, the boosted stats let it sink in smoothly.
“If you can’t do that, quit. Spend the rest of your life blaming your useless, used-up self, carrying the guilt those bastards dump on you for ‘stealing their chance,’ and live like the pathetic wreck you are.”
She lifted her head and looked at me. Her eyes were dazed, almost unfocused. I spat the next words low and bitter.
“Yeah, you said it yourself. You’re not cut out for this. So stop half-assing it, stop dumping your shitty feelings on other people, and just get the hell out. The ones who have to deal with you hate it too.”
Her face twisted hard at the end. Lips pressed tight, black eyes on the verge of tears reflected my face with perfect clarity.
“Mad? Then come at me.”
I deliberately laughed in mockery. People like her made me sick. One or two failures and they acted like the world had ended, wringing every last drop of self-pity out of it.
There were people who failed dozens, hundreds, thousands of times and still kept pushing as far as they could go—yet these ones made every excuse in the book and gave up the moment it got hard.
I couldn’t stand it. Born into a blessed world where effort actually produced results, why were they so eager to throw in the towel?
Why? Why? Just why?
...Fuck.
In the end this was just me taking it out on her. Stress was already piled high, and watching her try to use me as an emotional dumpster made my stomach turn for real.
I didn’t want to regret it, but I did. I knew she was still better than most for even attempting the mission with that trauma. Even so, I couldn’t swallow the disgust.
Fuck. Had I worked that hard just to save trash like this? I was already busy enough keeping the people around me fed—why did they keep making more work for me?
Irritation boiled over until my head went cold and clear.
The last thing I saw was the girl dissolving into a handful of light and vanishing. I turned away. I had only planned to kill time, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hive.”
“Caw!”
“Find everything.”
How was I supposed to burn off this stress? The answer was already decided. Kill and keep killing until I felt better. Student or not, didn’t matter. No reason needed. I simply felt like eliminating them.
So they could feel just as shitty as I did. I had been forced to taste this, so now it was their turn.
From anyone else’s perspective it might look completely unhinged, but who cared? I already said it. Mad? Then come at me.
I gathered mana at my fingertip and flicked it.