Chapter 12
Chapter 12
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Tournament
-----------------------------------------------------------------
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A crowd of cadets and a handful of instructors gathered around the arena where Do-yoon and Torn were set to face off.
Unlike the cadets who were clueless about the details, the instructors weren't all that invested in the match.
They expected a one-sided fight. Torn was a promising young talent with a bright future ahead, while Do-yoon was just an Earthling saddled with a mana handicap.
In this world's battles, mana held absolute dominance. Do-yoon might have a mana handicap, but Torn and the others had been training theirs for the past three weeks.
On top of that, Torn was considered quite the talent. By now, he should have reached the level Do-yoon had shown during the mana test.
A cost-effective immediate asset perfect for mid-to-small guilds. That was the current assessment of Do-yoon.
Do-yoon had been top-tier in the Cradle during the first week, but only because of his mana handicap. Meanwhile, Torn had grown at a frightening pace.
It was an intriguing matchup, no doubt. But just a fun spectacle—nothing more, nothing less.
If it were another class, instructors would have flocked here in droves, but right now, they were focused on something far more important: hunting boss monsters. Especially the swordsmanship cadets' matches had drawn a ton of them.
So, Do-yoon's arena didn't have many instructors watching.
"Wanna bet on the winner?"
"100 on Torn."
"Then it's no bet. I'm on Torn too."
"You guys don't know the thrill of an upset? 10 on Cadet Han Do-yoon. All in."
"For a thrill-seeker, that's a pretty stingy amount, huh?"
The ones watching Do-yoon's match were countless cadets and instructors from mid-to-small guilds who could only dream of recruiting super-elites like boss monster killers. Even they weren't watching seriously—they were just enjoying some idle gambling.
Torn stomped into the makeshift ring etched on the ground, his powerful legs thudding against the floor.
Do-yoon let out a sigh, steeled his gaze, and trudged into the arena after him.
...Yeah. No point thinking too badly of it. This might actually work out for the best.
It'd be ridiculous for someone who'd lived over 200 years to hold a grudge against a chick like that. If anything, Do-yoon felt positively toward Torn.
No matter how much the guy messed with him, it wasn't real harm—just childish pranks. Torn was too dumb to bully anyone intelligently.
But what gnawed at Do-yoon was Sophie constantly getting picked on because of him.
He didn't mind the harassment aimed at himself, but he hated seeing a talent he'd decided to nurture suffer.
Do-yoon reined in his irritation.
This is the perfect chance to set the hierarchy straight. So Sophie doesn't have to deal with this crap anymore.
The referee instructor turned to Torn.
"What will your weapon be?"
"Hammer."
The curt reply made the instructor frown, but he didn't make an issue of it. He just shook his head. That was Torn's style. Arguing would just annoy him more.
Another assistant instructor brought over a pre-prepared hammer—a massive two-handed one sized for Torn's build.
Seeing him take it, Do-yoon felt a thrill of excitement. It had been ages since he'd held a sword.
Weapons were strictly forbidden in the Cradle. Practice spears during position-specific classes were all you got.
But this tournament allowed free weapon choice. That was why Do-yoon had been waiting for this day.
"Cadet Han Do-yoon. What will your weapon be?"
It was a formality. Just like Torn's hammer had been ready, the cadets' weapons were essentially preset based on their usual gear.
Torn wasn't suddenly going to ask for a dagger. Same for Do-yoon, from the spear class.
Weapons had been prepped for them well before the tournament.
The assistant instructor entered the ring carrying spears wrapped in cloth—three of them, including one for javelin throws, meant for Do-yoon.
"Ah, I'll..."
Before Do-yoon could even answer, the instructor unwrapped one. His body went rigid.
Do-yoon, about to request a sword, froze at the sight of the revealed spear.
"Wh-what? Why is it like this?"
The inexperienced assistant stammered in panic.
The half-exposed spear meant for Do-yoon was trash, plain and simple.
Rust covered nearly every inch. The blade was half-broken, and what remained was full of chips.
This wasn't a spear—it was a worn-out club. It'd shatter on contact with Torn's hammer.
"J-just a moment...!"
The assistant hurriedly unwrapped the two javelins too. Same story.
One spear might be an accident, but all three assigned to Do-yoon were rotted garbage. Meanwhile, other spear cadets' weapons were pristine. No way this was coincidence.
The watching cadets buzzed.
"Why's it in that condition...?"
"Shouldn't they replace it?"
"...What the hell? Are they rigging the tournament for Torn?"
The instructors' faces hardened. It was just one offhand comment, but its weight was heavy. The Cradle's fairness was in question. This wasn't something to brush off.
The referee opened his mouth to defuse the situation—
"Puh-huh-huhk."
A bizarre laugh, like a cow sneezing, echoed. All eyes watching the ring turned to Torn.
"Perfect. Just like trash fit for vermin like you—a utterly pathetic spear. Suits you, human."
Puh-huh-huhk. Torn kept laughing, ignoring the stares.
Only then did the murmurs die down.
Torn, who'd been overflowing with jealousy over Do-yoon from the mana test, Sophie, and more. And now this nonchalant reaction, as if he'd known all along—no surprise at all.
Even the densest person could see how this went down. The evidence was crystal clear.
Torn had sabotaged Do-yoon's spears. Probably strong-armed some goblin thief type into doing it.
...So that's the kind of guy he is.
Do-yoon felt the faint goodwill he'd held for Torn evaporate at this petty scheme.
"The strong male claims the prime female! Winner takes Sophie!"
Sophie drew stares at the blatant declaration that ignored her completely. Do-yoon glanced her way to check her expression.
...She's pissed.
Sophie's face was icy cold. Cadets nearby even backed off, sensing the dangerous vibe.
Didn't know she could make that face.
It was a total surprise. She'd always brushed off Torn's advances before.
Seemed the weapon tampering had really set her off.
Their eyes met belatedly. She startled, melted the ice with a bright smile, and waved. Do-yoon nodded back.
"C-Cadet Han Do-yoon. Sorry. Looks like there was a management mix-up. We'll get a new spear right—"
"Just give me a sword."
"Pardon? A sword?"
Do-yoon recited calmly with cold eyes, as if this were no issue at all.
The assistant tilted his head. Torn, the cadets, and instructors all blinked at the request.
"Uh... alright, I'll fetch one quick. We'll delay the match just—"
"What nonsense! He got his spear, so fight with that one!"
The assistant shot Torn an incredulous look.
"Changing weapons is favoritism! I'll file a complaint!"
It was absurd. There was no rule against swapping before the match started, and Do-yoon hadn't even chosen a spear. The Cradle had assumed and prepped for him.
The onlookers' gazes turned icy. It was like watching a toddler throw a tantrum.
The instructors ground their teeth at the ridiculous display.
File a complaint? This place has gone to hell.
With the Cradle's recent lax atmosphere, discipline had slipped. Once this tournament ended, they'd drill the cadets hard.
Torn furrowed his brow at the suddenly quiet air. The mood wasn't celebratory for his rigged win. Cadets whispered pitifully about him.
Furious, Torn opened his mouth to yell—
"Pathetic."
A strikingly calm, cold voice pierced his ears.
Unlike the hushed murmurs, this was said openly for Torn to hear.
Torn whipped his head toward it.
It was the vampire, Debussy.
"...What did you just say?"
"Pathetic, you cow."
Torn gnashed his teeth. He glared murderously at Debussy and growled.
"I'm... not... a cow."
He hated that bat kid too. The contemptuous eyes and attitude, like he was nobility. Every time 'cow' left his lips, Torn wanted to smash his skull.
And the guy fawned over Han Do-yoon just like the rest. No, the whole atmosphere grated on him.
Negative stares for him, pity and sympathy for that human. Everyone was on the human's side.
Torn fixed Debussy with a feral glare.
"Bat. Wanna die?"
"Say the word, and I'll oblige."
Torn gripped his hammer at the unflinching retort, ready to hurl it at Debussy outside the ring.
Debussy tensed for battle. Tension rippled through the arena surroundings.
Instructors shouted to intervene—
"Enough."
Like during the mana test, a voice laced with mana halted them.