The Gate at the Entrance Ceremony
The three of us always managed to reach the entrance ceremony on time somehow. We sprinted into the auditorium, dropped into our seats, and finally allowed ourselves a breath of relief. Even then we still had a quick staring contest over the seating arrangement before reaching a dramatic compromise with Peony in the middle. Yet even though the clock had struck exactly on the hour, the ceremony still hadn’t begun, leaving us feeling strangely hollow. It was like arriving at the theater right on time only to sit through ten minutes of advertisements. With this unexpected breather, the elf finally grew curious and asked her question.
“But Haneul, you can fly around, can’t you?” Peony pointed at the robot vacuum resting on her lap. Unfortunately it gave no response; the battery appeared to be dead.
“Yes, that’s right. That is my ability.”
“Then couldn’t you just cast your ability on us so we could fly without holding hands?”
The answer was obvious to anyone who understood the basic laws of ability usage. But elf society’s comprehension of such matters was extremely low, so it wasn’t surprising she didn’t know. Elves rarely manifested abilities to begin with, and only a tiny fraction ever crossed over to Earth through the gates. A race that loved forests and nature had little reason to enjoy a concrete jungle. The gate’s operators had at least tried to be considerate, turning the surrounding area into an eco-park, but it hadn’t helped much.
These elves preferred to learn by seeing, hearing, and experiencing things firsthand. So when this peculiar elf awakened an ability, they had simply enrolled her in the academy.
“It’s difficult to use an ability on another ability user.”
“Once ability users awaken their ki, they instinctively use it to protect their bodies. That’s why simply manifesting an ability already makes them tougher than ordinary people.”
The protagonist joined the conversation.
“Ki? Don’t people usually call it mana?”
The elf looked even more confused.
“Ahaha… It’s better not to dig too deeply into the naming conventions.”
Ki, ether, mana, CSQPHRE… Whatever one called this energy that served as the root of ability users’ power, every faction—frontline hunters, rearline hunters, guilds, research institutes—insisted on using their own term. The problem was that each group claimed their name was the legitimate one, so none ever became official. Some even argued the properties differed slightly depending on the label.
“Anyway, because ability users protect their bodies with ‘mana,’ ordinary abilities rarely affect another user’s body.”
I had the protagonist extend his arm and gently channeled a touch of telekinesis. Blue particles swirled as the invisible force scattered harmlessly.
“Of course, that only applies to those who can use mana. The story changes completely with ordinary people who haven’t manifested an ability, or when there’s a massive gap in skill.”
“Even then it’s still a tug-of-war happening in the opponent’s own extremely advantageous home territory, so the defender holds a huge edge.”
“Ooh!” The elf let out a genuine sound of admiration.
“But Haneul, you’re riding that machine, right? Couldn’t you just make a telekinetic platform like that and carry us?”
Ah. Having worked alone for so long, I had completely forgotten that option existed. After all, I had transported the protagonist the same way just the other day when he collapsed in front of the main gate…
“Ehehe… I completely spaced out. Sorry about that, sis.”
“No! It was still fun! I got to experience exactly what a horned rabbit feels like when it’s being hunted by a金刚 repairman!”
What a strangely specific metaphor. Still, since Peony wasn’t the type to sugarcoat anything, I supposed it was a compliment…?
“By the way, Haneul, why do you call Peony ‘sis’?” the protagonist asked from the other side of the elf.
“Because Peony’s older than me, obviously?”
“Aren’t we all twenty-two? Peony is… well, physiognomically she looks about twenty-two, and while you look much younger, the academy only accepts students after high-school graduation and the completion of mandatory ability-user education, right?”
“Wow! Kim Si-woo, you really have a gift for guessing ages!”
“Heh heh heh… Most people do, but I’m different. I’ll explain later!”
To ride the main storyline, resolve the various incidents, and above all to stay close to Peony, I had pulled a few strings. The insufficient physical age was solved through outstanding ability and personal connections. Most of it had been connections, but those connections had been won through ability, so it still counted.
Right on cue the host appeared and announced that the entrance ceremony would now begin. While we stood for the flag salute, sang the national anthem, and observed the moment of silence, the elf kept glancing around at everything as if it were all utterly fascinating. At least she didn’t open her mouth, which meant she wasn’t completely devoid of tact. That was a relief.
First, we will hear a congratulatory address from Iron Rhino, ranked third among the world’s gate hunters. Please welcome him with a big round of applause.
Before the clapping could even start, the old-fashioned ceiling above the podium slid open with a soft hiss.
A deep, resonant voice boomed from the air. Then something silver suddenly dropped from above and slammed—not landed—into the center of the podium.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion ripped through the auditorium, followed by a violent shockwave. At the heart of the storm stood a steel giant.
The iron figure, easily over three meters tall, resembled a suit of armor fitted with power cables and hydraulic cylinders, making it look like a massive robot. The skull-shaped helmet bore a sharp metallic protrusion on the forehead shaped like a rhino’s horn.
Honestly, the podium that had withstood that entrance seemed more impressive than the entrance itself.
Having finished his piece, Iron Rhino’s armor mechanisms clicked and whirred as they coiled with power. Then, with another BOOM!, he shot out of the auditorium as abruptly as he had arrived.
Most of the audience sat stunned into silence. Only the host continued to the next item on the program as though nothing unusual had happened.
“Uh… what was that? Haneul? Kim Si-woo?”
“There are people like that.”
“It’s no big deal.”
We answered at the same time.
Third place, monstrous strength, arrogance, carried by equipment. The traits practically screamed “minor character who won’t last long in any story,” and Iron Rhino, who possessed all of them, fulfilled that role perfectly in real life. He would probably show up later as a combat-power measuring stick before retiring.
“Then can Haneul control the metal suit that person was wearing?”
“Think of an ability user’s clothing as an extension of their body. It isn’t quite as resistant as their actual body, but it still holds up well against other people’s abilities.”
Most of the routes in which that perennial third-place loser was defeated involved his suit being hijacked and used against him.
Once the commotion settled, the principal stepped forward to deliver his address.
Welcome, everyone, to Golden Dragon Academy. To the third cohort of new students. I am Lim Jae-seok, principal of this institution.
The content itself was nothing special, but the principal’s appearance certainly was. The suit was ordinary enough, yet instead of a head he wore a smooth, opaque sphere that resembled a fishbowl. The other students seemed to have heard about it beforehand, but seeing it in person for the first time, they kept stealing glances. Very few people actually knew what was inside that sphere.
As for what it was…
“Haneul, do you know why that man wears that thing on his head?”
“Hmm… Maybe he’s shy and hiding his face? Ahaha…?”
“What about you, Kim Si-woo? Do you know anything?”
“Weeeell… I have no idea?”
If the protagonist had properly read the novel or played the game, he would know. And that knowledge was exactly the kind that should never be spoken aloud. It was better not to even think about it.
…I hope you will all become proud new students who will lead the coming generation. Thank you.
Polite applause filled the auditorium. So the speech was already over. It had been extremely short because he only said what was necessary before stepping down. Since the academy wasn’t for children but for adults with established egos, this approach was probably much better.
Next we will present awards to outstanding new students. When your name is called, please come up to the podium.
Student Lee Haneul. Please come to the podium.
Applause rang through the auditorium. Sweeter than the sound of clapping was the look of pure admiration in Peony’s eyes. I left the robot vacuum with her and stood up. I flashed a grin that only the protagonist could see, then walked toward the podium. His reaction was more indifferent than I had hoped, which took some of the fun out of it.
When I reached the stairs beside the stage, a waiting staff member checked my uniform and smoothly pinned a dragon-head badge onto it. Clearly this wasn’t the first time they had done so.
Standing on the podium, I felt every eye in the packed auditorium turn toward me. The dazzling light, the weight of attention—it was easy to see why people called it the spotlight.
Award certificate. New student Lee Haneul. This student, despite being only seventeen years old, has set an example for others through outstanding academic performance and is hereby awarded this commendation.
The moment I accepted the certificate, thunderous applause erupted. After five years of grinding, this perfect start made me feel like I was floating on air. But before I could fully savor the moment—
Award certificate. New student Kim Si-woo. This student has set an example for others through outstanding admission grades and is hereby awarded this commendation.
What?
The protagonist? He certainly possessed dragon-head-level talent, but I hadn’t expected him to start strongly enough to actually win an award.
Even as the same enthusiastic applause surrounded the podium, my confusion refused to fade. Then the protagonist, now standing beside me with his own certificate, whispered under his breath.
“You weren’t the only one who prepared. I worked hard for that one year too.”
Yes, he must have worked hard. But exactly how hard?
“Ahem. Si-woo, you know what’s coming next, don’t you?”
Another student received an award and fresh applause broke out.
“Of course. It’s a cliché that never fails to appear in academy stories.”
Unlike the things that had changed because of my five years of interference, some events occurred with absolute certainty. They were probably unaffected by the influence of this particular dimension.
That’s right. Soon a gate would open here. An erosion-type gate would open, and monsters were scheduled to flood this very auditorium.