Week 7 Mentoring, PvP Assessment (1)

After running through my skills and traits, I shifted my gaze to the three magic scrolls in my hand.

In that a bold "UP" was emblazoned across each of them, they resembled the [Rank Up] scroll—but this one had a "?" floating in the background.

It wasn't the kind of item that showed up often on the prize list, which was exactly why I'd snatched it up, but examined closely, it came with some deceptively tricky conditions.

First, the skill or trait was designated at random. Copied ones didn't qualify to begin with; the pick would come from among the abilities I had earned entirely on my own. And even within that pool, the ideal outcome was landing on something comparatively hard to grow—[Amplification] or [Sovereign], say—rather than skills like [Wind Force] or [Twister], which steady effort would raise sooner or later anyway.

'Still, anything that goes up is a gift, I suppose.'

The second condition was what made even that a tall order: the rank of the randomly designated skill or trait would rise only "with a certain probability." And that "certain probability" plummeted in inverse proportion to the rank in question. If the odds of taking an F-rank skill to E-rank were a flat 100 percent, the odds of pushing a B-rank to A-rank hovered endlessly close to zero. In exchange for skipping the time, the effort, and the hard-won know-how that raising a rank normally demanded, you had to win a war against chance itself.

Then came the third and final condition: no luck bonuses of any kind. Meaning the result would look about the same whether my lucky charm Seo Ye-in rolled it or I did.

To summarize:

'There's a decent chance all three of these go straight into the void.'

My all-time record was thirty Random Rank-Ups failing in a row. I therefore expected these three to be wiped from existence in the blink of an eye, and so I arranged my heart into a comfortable place.

'I gained nothing at the game center...'

Non-possession. If you never expected anything to begin with, you could never be betrayed.

Like an old monk prepared for his ascension, I used the [Random Rank-Up] having let go of all things.

— Flash!

The scroll's radiance swelled brighter and brighter, and then— — Fssshhh... —the light died in an instant, scattering away as gray ash.

'Yeah, figures.'

I used the next Random Rank-Up on the spot. Second attempt.

— Fssshhh...

'Yeah, wasn't counting on anything.'

Utterly unbothered, I moved on to the next. Third attempt.

— Flash!

'Yeah, naturally I wasn't expecting—'

— FWAAASH—!

Light poured from the parchment and sank into my body, and a notification unfurled before my eyes.

'You know the game Dragon Slayer Academy? Truly a god-tier game.'

This was exactly why I could never quit Random Rank-Ups.

[Inferno Fist] was a forbidden skill, and its power was so outrageously excessive that training it came burdened with all manner of restrictions. Raising its rank meant shuttling in and out of special dungeons and grinding through a long, grueling ordeal. So rather than suffer through all that, I had planned to hold the line at C-rank and start scouting out other skills instead—

'But a promotion to B-rank? That changes everything.'

By a stroke of luck, its shelf life had just been extended by a wide margin; it would stay useful well into the latter half of second year, perhaps even the start of third. A thoroughly satisfying result.

Monday morning.

After breakfast with Seo Ye-in, we were on our way to school. There was no sign of Ahn Jungmi. On the walk to campus she usually guarded Seo Ye-in from somewhere out of sight, but today I couldn't sense so much as a whisper of her presence. So I asked Seo Ye-in.

"Where's the butler?"

"She's not feeling well."

"Not feeling well? What happened?"

Seo Ye-in shook her head side to side. Meaning she didn't really know either.

Watching her, something suddenly snagged in my mind, and I asked a slightly different question.

"What happened to that spicy pizza bread? The one you bought her as a present."

"She ate it all."

"The butler did?"

"Yep."

She ate the whole thing?

Just hearing about it was enough to sour my own stomach—could Ahn Jungmi actually have a hidden tolerance for spicy food?

"So since when has she been feeling unwell?"

"Since the bread."

Yeah, as I thought. Not a chance.

Seo Ye-in had brought it as a gift, so the butler must have forced down something she couldn't stomach, gulping it back bite by bite. The Hellfire Pizza Bread was all but confirmed as the cause of her condition.

"Next time, let's give her something a little less spicy."

"..."

"Less spicy."

"Okay."

Only after I'd hammered the point twice did Seo Ye-in finally nod, slowly, up and down.

I offered a silent prayer for Ahn Jungmi's swift recovery. With any luck, it wouldn't interfere with this week's mentoring.

We were nearly at school when I spotted Go Hyeon-woo walking toward us from the direction of the Training Center. As ever, he had apparently spent the night in the Special Training Room. Catching sight of us, he quickened his pace and came over.

"Good morning, Brother Kim. And to you as well, Lady Seo."

"Yeah. Morning."

I returned the greeting, and Seo Ye-in gave a small, languid wave of her hand.

At that instant, Go Hyeon-woo started and narrowed his eyes.

"Hmm?"

His gaze settled for a moment on the hand Seo Ye-in was waving—or rather, on the Cumulus Cloud Bracelet at her wrist. Then he noticed the Dark Cloud Bracelet on mine.

"Mmm."

His eyes traveled downward, to the sneakers on Seo Ye-in's feet—the Cloud Walkers—then to the Cloud Walkers on mine. And little by little, a contented fatherly smile spread across his lips.

"Splendid... simply splendid..."

"What exactly are you imagining right now?"

"Nothing untoward, I assure you. Only that the two of you make a very fine picture, that is all. Though I must say—those are bracelets I have never seen before."

At that, Seo Ye-in—rare for her—actually answered.

"We went to the downtown district."

"Oh, the downtown district, you say? I have heard it told that the place brims with interesting things. How was it, seeing it for yourself?"

"It was fun."

Perhaps because Seo Ye-in's answers came quick and clean, Go Hyeon-woo's eyebrow rose a fraction. A moment later, he was regarding us with an even broader fatherly smile.

"I see. If Lady Seo speaks so warmly of it, my interest only deepens. Should the chance arise, I should like to visit that downtown district myself. Though with training ever my first priority, I cannot say when that day might come."

This was Go Hyeon-woo, the living, breathing training machine, drilling day and night without pause. He wanted to enjoy himself too, no doubt—but in his mind, surrendering a full day of training for a jaunt downtown was a loss too dear.

I said my piece.

"Taking a day off once in a while wouldn't hurt, would it? Besides, we didn't just idle around. We came away with a fortuitous encounter, and we picked up bracelets, too."

Technically, the Lucky Trump Card had been Seo Ye-in's find—but a find was a find.

At my words, something shifted in Go Hyeon-woo's eyes.

"A fortuitous encounter, you say. I see. It seems I judged the place too hastily on the word 'downtown' alone. In that case, it would be well worth setting aside the time."

"Let's pick a day and go together sometime."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Good. Let us do exactly that."

Go Hyeon-woo had reversed his stance as easily as flipping his palm over. He was a living training machine—and a quintessential martial artist whose eyes spun at the mere mention of a fortuitous encounter.

PvP class.

Today, Lee Sudok looked several times more stormy than usual. He carried a murderous air, as though he would wring the neck of anyone who so much as grated on his nerves. That killing intent was so vivid that not one student dared even think of letting their attention drift; every gaze stayed riveted on Lee Sudok.

And into that atmosphere—like walking across thin ice—Lee Sudok tossed out a single word.

"...!?"

Question marks and exclamation points bloomed above the students' heads all at once. The mood being what it was, no one dared whisper; they made their feelings known by rolling their eyes at one another instead.

Every last one of them looked desperate to deny what they had just heard, but Lee Sudok drove the stake in deeper, as if to say they hadn't a prayer.

"In two weeks, beginning with week nine, the midterm examination period begins. The scope of the exam ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠covers PvP and Conquest battles—indeed, everything you have learned since entering this Dragon Slayer Academy."

Lee Sudok's voice sank lower and slower still, and then he swept Class 3 with a gaze grown several degrees more murderous.

"I hear there are quite a few of you who treat your classes lightly because your practical assessment scores came out a little well..."

So he'd been hearing things from the other instructors, had he?

So that was why the barometer had dropped so low today.

Caught under Lee Sudok's gaze, several students flinched and dropped their eyes. Song Cheon-hye was among them. To be fair, she was an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠honor student who generally applied herself in class—but every so often, worn down by Disciplinary Committee duties, she had been known to nod off. In Madam Jo Oksoon's Monster Ecology lectures especially, she was more often asleep than awake.

Lee Sudok curled his lips into an ominous smile and went on.

"...Those of you who filtered your classes so carefully may look forward to these midterms. They will be very entertaining."

"...!"

Tension rippled across the students' faces. Nobody knew precisely what those words meant, but one thing was certain: they would all be tearing through their past lessons like mad, hunting for whatever they had missed.

Having dropped that loaded hint, Lee Sudok moved straight on to the next subject.

"Now, I will explain this week's PvP rules. Naturally, this too falls within the scope of the midterms."

From his inventory, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lee Sudok produced a device resembling a camera tripod, along with a crystal about the size of a fist. He flung the device out with a careless flick of the wrist; it touched down a short distance away and assembled itself, click and clack, entirely of its own accord. Before long, the makeshift little structure began to shine with a brilliant light.

"One of the key elements of this week's PvP: the 'Sanctuary.' When you enter the Arena, it will take a somewhat different form, but you will have no trouble recognizing it."

After all, anything resembling that makeshift structure would be glowing brightly wherever it stood.

Next, Lee Sudok held up the crystal. Aside from its size, there was nothing especially remarkable about it. But when he carried it close to the Sanctuary—

— Vreee—

a stream of white light linked the Sanctuary and the crystal, and light began to pool inside the crystal, little by little. When Lee Sudok stepped back a few paces, the connection severed, and the light the crystal had gathered faded away at once.

Lee Sudok stepped close again, and with the Sanctuary and crystal still joined by the beam of light, he continued.

"As you can see, this crystal charges little by little so long as it maintains a certain distance from the Sanctuary. Stray beyond that distance, and it discharges rapidly. And—"

— FWAAASH!

Having stored up enough light, the crystal blazed with the purest white radiance. You could have called it a lump of light rather than a crystal and been none the wiser.

"This is what it looks like when the charge is complete. In other words, the objective of this week's PvP is as follows."

The side holding the crystal had to keep it within range of the Sanctuary and charge it up, all while blocking or evading the enemy's interference. The opposing side's objective, naturally, was to stop them: defeat the holder, steal the crystal, or force them away from the Sanctuary—any of which would cut the charging short.

I nodded slowly along, thinking.

'Now that's my favorite kind of game.'

[117] The Support Ate It All