The Eye of the Storm

Do you know the phrase “the eye of the typhoon”?

It is written as the center of the storm and spoken of as the eye. No matter how menacing the typhoon, the point at its heart remains eerily still.

Yet that stillness does not mean the storm has ended. It only heralds the even greater aftershock that follows, which is why it is considered all the more dangerous.

In that sense, the eye of the storm in a novel or a story carries the meaning of the quiet before something immense occurs—the peace before war.

By that measure, the days I was living through could only be called the eye of the storm.

Two full weeks had already passed since the academy term began in earnest.

There had been a little noise surrounding me, but as with any rumor, it was quickly buried beneath newer ones that rose to take its place.

Petty incidents and accidents continued without pause, yet nothing that could truly be called a major event had occurred.

If I had to name something, it would be the not-quite-bets that formed around the dungeon entry permits handed out to the top scorers of each class.

Even that ceased to be any real fuss once the third week arrived and dungeon practice began; entry rights were unlocked for everyone at once.

It was not my imagination—things had grown quieter still after that.

Though the semester had only just started, the midterms were already drawing near, and the sight of everyone pouring themselves into their studies made it plain. Most were likely focused on honing their own strength.

Some entered the dungeons steadily; others polished their skills with even greater care.

I was no different from them. I attended classes as usual, sat through my electives, and spent the remaining hours balancing rest with dungeon runs.

The dense, eventful days of the first week felt like a lie now—everything had settled into something almost mundane.

Yet I could not simply enjoy it.

Something—some important something—felt as though it were slipping past me, a subtle sense of déjà vu I kept trying to shake off. So today, once again, I ran a dungeon.

The sunlight was more than bright; it struck the eyes with a searing edge. I raised a hand to cast a little shade, but it was nowhere near enough to cool the heat radiating from every direction.

The scorching sandstone shimmered as if dancing. Beyond the heat haze lay only sand. Whether I looked around me or toward the horizon, it was sand, sand, and more sand.

Not a single dry blade of grass, not even a cactus—only an endless sea of sand, and I stood in the middle of it.

C-rank dungeon: Sun Spitting Sandstone.

I had only heard the name when I first challenged the Canyon of Hidden Scales, yet this was already my fourth day running it.

The first day had been pure curiosity. From the second onward I returned because the leveling efficiency outstripped other dungeons. The third day had been spent hunting for the optimal clear route.

Today I was refining that route further, searching for the method that would yield the most experience and mana stones possible.

I projected my mana thinly across the ground, as if soaking the earth. As thin and as wide as I could manage, yet still swaying it just enough that no enemy could resist the lure.

Grrrrrr…!!

Vibration rose from beneath the soft, sinking sand, drawn by the bait. At once I shaped a shield of shadow beneath my feet and fixed it there like a board.

The moment my mana, now cleanly shaped through the shadow, settled into a clear pattern, the reaction below surged as if it had been waiting. The movement grew vast enough to shake the entire stretch of sand; I lowered my stance to match it.

KWA-AAAANG!

“Kssssiiiiiiiii!!!”

What burst through the sand was a gray scorpion. Its bizarre pincers resembled enormous sickles, and at the blunt tip of its tail sat a sharp, violet-black barb that went beyond mere keenness into something truly sinister.

SKANG!!

I blocked the strike aimed at me with the shield and used the impact as a springboard to leap into the air. In that same instant Kallion, who had been hidden above by the magic of Invisibility, snatched me up.

“Kung!!”

“We’re going!”

In my place, Growl and Echidna dropped to the ground. I shaped a sword of shadow to support them, then reshaped it into a spear and condensed my mana into it.

To maximize sharpness I had made it more like a thick needle than a proper spear, but that suited me better.

“Grrung.”

At the same time Kallion’s buffs sank into my body.

The spear’s edge grew clearer still; the grip of the hand that held it strengthened. My vision expanded in a rush, the focus that the heat had slightly frayed sharpened again, and vitality flooded every limb.

With my body now far more comfortable, I activated the skill Combat Focus. Within the slowed field of vision I aimed precisely at a gap in the carapace and loosed the spear.

Piiing—

A trail of mana light carved the air and drove cleanly into the seam of the giant scorpion’s armor.

Pugwak!

“Kssssiiiiik…!!!”

As the attack crushed smoothly inward, Echidna swung her mace. Her target was not the scorpion’s body but the spear I had planted.

Kang!

The impact was like a hammer driving a nail; the scorpion could not endure the shock and pain and collapsed where it stood. Even so its tail shot straight at Echidna.

It never pierced her.

Kwaddeuk!

“Ksssik…?!”

The tail stopped unnaturally mid-strike, leaving Gray Death startled. At its tip stood a massive wolf that had bitten down on the root of the tail and held it fast. Growl’s assault did not end there.

With the single-minded intent of severing the chewed tail, he began grinding his teeth. Those saw-like fangs tore and sliced through Gray Death’s armor in an instant.

With every bite, transparent blood like sap flowed out, staining Growl’s body redder and making him larger still.

No matter how the scorpion thrashed, the claws hooked in like grappling hooks refused to let go.

“Ki, kiiik…!!”

At this rate the tail would be torn ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠free.

Seeing Growl grow stronger in real time as he drank the blood, Gray Death realized it at once. It heaved its fallen body upright and spun hard, even as it swept its sickle-like pincers sideways in attack.

“Haaat!”

Tung!!

The one who blocked that strike head-on was none other than Echidna. She had snatched up the shield I dropped while dodging and used it to weather the blow.

Even with the dual reinforcement of mana and divine power, the soft ground left deep furrows as she was shoved backward.

Its sheer bulk gave the attack a destructive force hard to believe for something so hastily thrown; the shield that caught it dented inward.

Tak.

Yet the attack had been stopped, and time had been bought.

Ppuddeuk!

The moment Growl’s jaw strength, sated with blood, surpassed its limit, a sickening sound of something crushing and tearing rang across the desert.

At the same time the ownerless tail flew through the air and struck the sand.

Having completed his purpose, Growl landed and licked the blood from his muzzle. Echidna tossed aside the crumpled shield and took up her mace again, turning a gaze full of resolve upon Gray Death.

“It’s about to start.”

Gray Death’s patterns split cleanly before and after the loss of its tail. The berserk patterns that appeared the instant the tail fell were two.

First: it would thrash in frenzy, flinging sand in every direction to blind us, then strike from ambush.

Second: it would burrow straight into the sand and leap out in rapid succession, slashing with its pincers.

These were the patterns I had standardized over three days of trial and error.

The critical point was never to deal too much damage in a single blow. For a named monster it was absurdly cowardly—if cumulative damage piled up too quickly it simply fled.

Just as it had when it first appeared out of fear, it would dig into the earth and vanish.

At first I had tensed, thinking it another berserk pattern, only to wait in the blazing sun while the named never returned. Remembering those teeth-grinding hours made me want to chew the thing to death several times over.

What I discovered through that frustration was to sever the tail as quickly as possible.

Yes—the key to this named’s strategy lay in the tail.

A scorpion’s sickle-like pincers were certainly threatening, but the greatest danger was its venom.

The organ that delivered that main weapon was the tail. And I had just stolen it.

Unlike a lizard whose tail regrows, a scorpion’s does not.

Normally it should flee at this point. In fact, if it took heavy damage all at once it would not hesitate to run and recover—cunning to the last.

But a scorpion that had lost its weapon thought differently.

Fleeing now would leave it unable to hunt properly, and any hope of a next time was meaningless without its weapon.

So it chose mutual destruction, hoping at least to leave a wound.

The moment its resolve hardened, Gray Death’s pincers shifted from gray to black. Ironically, the very being named Death had decided upon its own demise, and so its trait activated.

Pussssh…!

The sand around the pincers melted. Nearby sand blackened and died as well. Mixed with the original grains it became pure gray—Gray Death itself descending upon the desert.

Yet such terrifying power could not last forever. The black spots that began to invade beyond the pincers into its own body were proof enough.

The ideal solution would be to stay on Kallion’s back, evade from the air, and wait for the enemy to destroy itself. But that would take who knew how long.

Then one thought struck me.

Corrosion. Rot. That force which forcibly drove the living toward death was unmistakably a negative power. Therefore the one using it—Gray Death—was itself an impure existence.

Here I would use Kallion’s trait: Holy.

Kallion’s trait fundamentally held the power to reject and repel. Its most representative use was the destruction of evil—the expulsion of impurity.

When opposing forces of that magnitude collided, the result was either explosion or outright annihilation.

“Kallion.”

Chwaaang!!

At my call Kallion unfolded a magic circle; from its maw a breath of mana blasted forth. The moment the mass of mana touched the circle it split into dozens of streams and hammered the ground.

“Ksssik…!? Ksseeeeeek…!!”

Jjeojeok, pugwaak!

Struck by the milky-white mana cannons, Gray Death’s armor crushed and burst.

The blackened portions crumbled like ash. Because the spots themselves had already invaded every part of its body, the entire form became riddled with holes in an instant.

“Ki, kiiii…”

The all-or-nothing strike it had forged by burning its own life had only hastened its death. With a low cry of rage, the named monster Gray Death expired.

I brushed the rising system messages aside and stopped the stopwatch function on my device.

“Five minutes twenty-one seconds. Subtract the fishing time and it’s two minutes ten… Is this the best I can do right now?”

Of course even that sight was so familiar it stirred no particular emotion.

All that remained in my head was the thought that I could probably kill it a little faster, a little more cleanly.

Next time it might not be bad to lay traps all around, pin it down, then pour out overwhelming firepower so it never even thought of fleeing.

The problem is the fishing…

The downside of this grind was how long it took to lure the thing up with mana. If I started with the other summons present, it would never appear at all.

For something that looked so viciously ugly, it was absurdly cowardly—if it judged it was not facing me alone, it would approach only to turn and run.

Too strong or too weak produced the same result. If I felt strong it fled because it could not win; if I felt weak it never even glanced my way.

Only by delicately controlling mana at just the right level would it take the bait. And for that alone I had to suppress my mana and move more carefully?

It was no different from owning the latest computer and monitor only to play some ancient arcade game.

“Still, I have to kill this thing if I want the experience to jump.”

I stretched atop Kallion’s back, then wrapped mana around my body to block the heat that had been searing my skin. The muggy sensation vanished at once.

I had to seal every gap with shadow so sand and sunlight would not harm me, yet if I added more mana to block the heat as well, Gray Death would decide I was a powerhouse and flee.

In the end I had to serve as bait without blocking the heat.

With no gaps and no ventilation, it truly felt like being sealed inside a steamer.

If I could just solve that one issue it would be perfect. No matter how much I shaved the time, if I myself was suffering there was no real solution.

It might be time to try somewhere else. The optimized build I had carved out felt a little wasteful, but if I thought of it as scouting for information to pass to Ban Taewung later, it was not so bad.

He had boldly declared he would break into the top thirty, then the top ten—only to plummet overnight into triple digits. Now he had begun taking interest in the dungeon circuit inside the academy itself.

Since the rankings included second- and third-years, he seemed to have accepted there was nothing he could do. From my perspective it was already impressive that he was still hanging on in the triple digits even with upperclassmen included.

Realizing that empty bravado meant nothing in that state, Ban Taewung had quickly resigned himself and turned to the next-best path: growing stronger through dungeons.

The fact that his goal was not mere clears but perfect clears plus full dungeon conquests showed just how obsessive he had become.

For reference, a perfect clear was essentially an individual mission the academy attached to each dungeon.

Separate from whatever the dungeon itself offered, if you accepted the quest through the device’s system, a record began the moment you entered and the result was reflected the instant you cleared.

Each mission was ranked bronze, silver, or gold; completing all three earned a perfect-clear judgment and a “Well Done” sticker that could be exchanged for one shop point.

Accumulating shop points let you request things from the academy side, so they were nice to have, but not having them was no great loss—more like mileage points.

Seeing that, you could tell the academy was putting thought into things. The hidden elements I had found last time were the same: methods so students would not simply clear dungeons out of obligation, but enjoy them or approach them differently.

Honestly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once you were smashing monster skulls and stabbing organs with a blade there was not much “fun” left, but at least they could claim, “See, we offered this approach too.” Or so I guessed.

Or not. How was I supposed to know what that old man was thinking? I just accepted it and moved on.

Anyone with a properly screwed-on head would never have told me to parachute straight into this place in the first place.

An educational institution that ought to be equal, yet possessed a system that championed inequality and favoritism more than anyone. A place that thoroughly rejected the weak while favoring the strong, yet welcomed the weak growing stronger more than anyone.

That was why it strangely felt like a place where people actually lived. And because of that, incidents never ceased and quiet days never came—the academy was a bizarre place through and through.

“Caw!”

Hive returned with Gray Death’s mana stone; I welcomed it and quickly loaded Growl and Echidna onto Kallion’s back to cross the desert.

The goal was the massive pyramid standing at the desert’s center.

Defeating the dungeon boss that resided there, or unraveling the pyramid’s secret—that was the clear condition.

Most of the time I had been able to shave off so drastically was thanks to Kallion’s mobility.

Conversely, in confined places like caves that advantage vanished.

The pyramid’s interior was the same. Growl could just barely squeeze through, but Kallion’s size meant it snagged at the entrance. Summoning it anew inside would simply collapse the pyramid.

Because of that I had begun to wonder whether I needed another summon suited for long-range damage in limited spaces.

Over these two weeks I had left almost everything else untouched and focused solely on leveling. Before I knew it my Summoner job level had reached 23; with the level-up just now it was 24.

The other summons had each gained between five and seven levels at the end as well.

Because Ban Taewung was forever going on about strategies and clear guides, I had gotten a taste for it myself and left my points unspent. The piled-up system messages had begun to form a thick layer.

I would have to check those soon enough. After clearing this dungeon I would review them all at once. While I was at it I would decide on a new summon then.

I had already gained the capacity to create one more summon, but the current combination worked so well I felt no need and had left it alone.

Shoving in something that did not match the grade would throw the balance off, and restoring it would take far too long.

Long-term, summoning now was correct—but my instincts told me to keep focusing on the clear instead.

This was the incident that woman had spoken of. She had mocked me and cleverly withheld information before, yet she had never once lied when asked. That made it a confirmed future.

“Caw.”

A shadow crow burst from the shadow of my sleeve and began to lead the way. Hive, floating in the air, had found the destination.

Kallion’s speed increased as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it followed the crow. In an instant it overtook the shadow crow, but that did not matter. The location information had already been passed to Kallion through me.

While the scenery rushed past, those of us riding Kallion remained utterly calm. That too was a wind-resistance magic Kallion had learned after growing familiar with Dragon Magic.

Over these two weeks I had gathered as much magical information as possible through Record, culled what was immediately useful, and handed it to Kallion.

Because the fundamental principles of magic differed, converting it into Kallion’s own magic took time—but time was something I had in abundance, and I could simply keep at it inside dungeons until it worked. No need to worry about surroundings.

Kallion had spent the two weeks attempting every possible trial and error.

Thanks to that, most basic magics could now be imitated as Dragon Magic or reborn as entirely different spells.

Honestly, the one that had grown the most these two weeks was probably Kallion. Echidna and Growl had their own achievements, but neither had expanded their repertoire of attacks the way Kallion had.

And this was the pinnacle of that growth.

“Echidna.”

“Yes.”

At the sight of the pyramid ahead I called Echidna and poured additional mana into Kallion. She did the same.

My mana was used to link and draw the enormous magic circle; the mana laced with her divine power gathered in Kallion’s maw.

A pyramid in a desert. Anyone with even a shred of sense would know what was going to appear inside.

Even the dungeon’s name was Sun Spitting Sandstone—it was practically guaranteed.

At first I had tried it thinking, “Is this even allowed?” It worked better than expected, and that was how I had decided on this experience-farming method.

Mana drained in a steady rush. I could not remember the last time I had felt such a shortage; the massive outflow left my body limp with exhaustion.

Yet as a result the magic circle that had begun at Kallion’s mouth grew and grew until it completely covered the pyramid’s peak.

I had no obligation to walk into ground that favored the enemy.

“Kill it.”

Giiiiing—

From the magic circle a sun fell.

Not a simple sun, but a dark-crimson one whose surface seethed with milky-white energy. The image was the magic every mage dreamed of: Meteor.

Yet to call that magic Meteor was inaccurate—it had no mass. All that existed was overwhelming heat and the will to kill the enemy.

Its base was the magic once used by the woman who had driven a burning solar chariot: Corona Buster.

I had modified the spell that condensed the sun’s power into a laser form so that instead of a single shot it persisted, burning everything within the magic circle’s range.

That change alone drastically reduced the mana required to control it.

Because the range had been limited to the circle’s interior from the start, once released no further interference was needed.

It had been created for the sole purpose of annihilating everything inside the circle, so control was unnecessary.

By adding and subtracting various elements I had completed that magic: Napalm Buster.

If the image was Meteor, the conception of the effect had been taken from a napalm bomb, so I kept the name and simply added the original magic.

Because image and conception shared similar aspects, the finished magic did not fire—it dropped from above.

Gugugugu…

The slowly descending dark-crimson sun swallowed the pyramid. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The air trembled under the tremendous heat; the world warped. The power of the false sun turned even the desert’s heat cold as it began to collapse the thing that had held a brilliant past.

Too late, undead mummies wrapped head to toe in bandages and venomous insects with multicolored shells poured out to defend the pyramid—but the heat that melted the outer walls and evaporated them from the tip left not even mana stones behind as they vanished.

Rather, the false sun that began to burn even more fiercely using those mana stones as fuel struck the ground; I raised a hand to shield my eyes.

“It’s over.”

Biiiiiiiii—

What reached me first was tinnitus; the explosion’s roar that followed battered my ears.

Had I not wrapped myself in mana for protection, one of three things would have happened: ruptured eardrums, a body roasted by the residual heat, or permanent blindness.

Perhaps all three.

What was certain was that even if someone survived at the center of that aftermath, the only future left would be burning to death in the lingering flames.

With Kallion’s trait Holy—the natural enemy of undead—added on top, it was special attack stacked upon special attack.

Wandering the pyramid would surely have yielded fitting treasures or hidden rewards, but roasting everything this way and claiming the experience was far more profitable.

With the pyramid’s master—the boss—fallen, the dungeon judged itself cleared. As I accepted it, a worn papyrus appeared in my hand; I passed it to Hive to store in the shadows.

Two identical ones already rested inside my shadow, along with a single pair of gloves called Wasteland Bow Thimble.

I dismissed the successive result windows; before I knew it my body was no longer in the desert’s stifling heat but at the academy’s dungeon entrance.

“Huu…”

Thanks to Kallion I erased the gathering gazes, returned everyone except Hive—who slipped into the shadows—and stepped out of the C-rank dungeon entrance. That was when I noticed people crowding around the B-rank dungeon beside it.

Unless something serious had happened there was no reason for a crowd like that.

It felt a little unsettling, but I had no desire to get involved, so I simply slipped a few of Hive’s shadow crows into the crowd’s shadows and cut off my interest.

For one thing, Sun Spitting Sandstone was still more efficient. For another, honestly, I did not yet have the confidence to clear a B-rank dungeon easily with my current strength.

Even pushing through with Kallion’s magic had limits once compatibility was set aside.

When the difficulty rose to B-rank, intelligent individuals appeared in large numbers beyond just named monsters and bosses.

With greater intelligence came basic mana reinforcement plus individual skills, so the difficulty climbed exponentially. If dungeon gimmicks or conditional requirements were added on top, taking a long time to clear alone was only natural.

What if a space that prevented Kallion from acting was forced upon me? What if a space appeared where mana could not be properly applied? Every card I held as a mana-based fighter would be sealed.

One wrong move and I could pour time into it only to escape empty-handed. I had to grow stronger first before challenging it.

Even Ban Taewung and the heroines’ party were still struggling in D-rank dungeons. I told myself I was already on the fast track.

Even so, the impatience only grew rather than fading.

Because everyone had flocked to the dungeon side, the private training rooms were relatively empty. I rented one at once, shaped a chair from shadow, and sat.

“…Checking them all one by one would be a waste of time.”

I knew it was better to review each carefully. But looking at everything I had postponed for so long all at once made the time that would pass feel too precious.

I had already decided to summon a new one, so rather than pouring too much time into this it was wiser to skim quickly and then take the new summon through an E- or D-rank dungeon once as the main focus.

“Status window.”

Instead of dismissing the cleanly rising messages one by one, I chose to shut them all off and displayed the status window.