Protagonist (2)
Dave's Peak. The cadet who claims the flag standing tall there will take first place in this exam.
Top-ranking cadets, starting with first place, will receive "privileges" prepared by Arsen.
The entrance exam was reaching its final stage. Surviving cadets were flocking to the mountaintop.
"Watch out for the mist. It's speeding up faster than before—we need to climb now. We can't take him! Just leave him!"
The man shouting coldly was Elin Beonard. Leading his team of cadets, they scrambled up the mountain frantically. Mist chased at their backs.
As if heralding the end of the entrance exam, the mist's speed was gradually increasing. The entire area below the mid-slope was now shrouded in fog.
The remaining zone was just the peak and the nearby plateau. No interferers had appeared on the way here. Other cadets ran alongside, but evading the mist was the priority for everyone. Those who had clashed blades moments ago now ignored each other and climbed.
They reached the summit. No time for elation—Elin Beonard had to readjust his grip on his weapon.
The surviving cadets couldn't approach the flag.
"What... is that?"
A massive ice wall blocked their path to the flag. And standing before it like a gatekeeper was one cadet.
"......"
Serin Anette. The overwhelming first-place leader of the current entrance exam.
At the appearance of this absolute powerhouse, the cadets clustered behind Elin.
No one dared charge.
"That's Serin Anette, right? What are you doing? Move aside."
In the end, Elin stepped forward. The cadets behind seemed to push him with their stares.
"The flag looks intact from here. If you're not going for it, get out of the way?"
"Yeah...!"
"Don't block us!"
The cadets raised their voices in agreement. Those who had been silent now chimed in one after another.
But Serin Anette didn't budge. She stood firm, clutching her spear.
"...First place is first place."
Her spear pointed forward at Elin Beonard.
Suddenly thrust into the leader role, Elin broke into a cold sweat.
"Points are points."
"What nonsense is that?"
"Once first place is decided, the exam ends. Not yet."
Her eyes flashed, mana coiling around her spear. The cadets flinched preemptively, raising their weapons.
"The barrier won't lift until one remains. If you want the flag, you'll have to beat me."
Elin's outstretched hand trembled. He'd thought seizing the flag would end it all—but no.
Serin Anette blocking the way had no intention of stepping aside. She was saying: advance only by defeating me.
That meant claiming the flag after eliminating all other cadets.
Serin Anette had the power and ability to back such arrogance.
"What the hell—it's just points. Why go this far?"
"It might be trivial to you, but it's important to me."
At those words, a thought flashed through Elin's mind.
"No way—money—"
...!
Killing intent surged instantly, making Elin flinch. Serin said nothing, overwhelming him with sheer presence alone.
The standoff cadets looked to Elin. About twenty in number. Maybe they had a shot.
"We just need to grab the flag and it's over. No need to drag this out, right?"
"You think that'll work?"
"Look at the mist behind us. Staying longer means dying anyway."
Elin agreed. They couldn't break through Serin anyway, or the mist would eliminate them.
"Move!"
Before Elin could speak, a cadet charged with a shout. Serin Anette's spear arced in response.
The spear shaft whipped through the air. A gale swept over the cadets.
Over a dozen were blown away without resistance.
"Insane..."
"......"
Just the first clash, and light streams already burst everywhere.
...No chance of winning.
But.
Whoosh—!
The mist was already surging from behind. An unintended last stand formed. No retreat now.
Two choices: climb up, or get swallowed by the mist and fail.
But up there was Serin Anette. To advance, they'd have to break her—but some cadets abandoned the fight against Serin.
Better to surrender painlessly to the mist than get speared out.
"Can't do it! How do we even...?"
"Me too!"
"Aaaah!"
Watching cadets vanish into the mist, Elin bit his lip.
"Idiots..."
Some had given up, but not all. Others burned with resolve, gripping weapons and signaling Elin.
"Alright. Let's do it."
Elin Beonard charged first. His followers surged in unison.
Knocked down or flung aside, they rose and pressed on fiercely.
......And.
"She's strong, as expected..."
From a distance, Kyle Ivanstair watched. His cadet uniform was in tatters. Scratches and tears covered his body.
He'd trusted the bracelet's performance, but it didn't cover minor wounds, apparently.
Sizzle—!
Kyle tore his uniform, wrapping the makeshift bandage around his arms and legs.
...The trembling in his limbs eased a bit.
Stamina was still low, but staying meant the mist anyway.
Rustle—
Then, movement nearby. Dried leaves crunching. Voices followed.
"Wait, there's one more here."
"Looks injured? Who wants this one?"
"Me. I haven't gotten one yet."
Six cadets surrounded Kyle. No escape. Mist below, Serin above.
"Decide."
"Decide what?"
"Take off the bracelet, or we rip it off."
And right in his face, a cadet thrust a gleaming blade.
"Hm, what if I hate both?"
Kyle grabbed for his sword—tried to.
"Uh...!"
But his hands still shook. Overuse of talent lingered, gnawing his body.
The hilt slipped mockingly through his fingers. No time to dive for it.
"This bastard."
The cadet kicked Kyle's sword away. It vanished into the mist.
No retrieving it now. But Kyle wouldn't quit.
...He'd come this far. Time to scrap.
Kyle gritted his teeth, venom in his eyes. All or nothing—he'd throw a punch—
Bang—!
Bang bang!
A bullet from somewhere sniped the cadet in front.
"What the—?!"
"Sniper! That guy from before's back!"
In the chaos, Kyle ducked. He curled up behind a rock, but couldn't fully cover.
Yet something felt off. Kyle looked up.
Bullets sniped the cadets. None aimed at him.
Even exposed like this—no shot. Not coincidence.
No time to think. Kyle rammed the nearest cadet, headbutting him down and snatching his weapon.
"Whoever you are..."
The shots ignored him. Mysterious support fire continued.
Now, he could fight more.
"Thanks, friend!"
Ignoring the downed cadet, he bolted for the peak.
No interferers now. Kyle sprinted, reaching the summit in seconds.
At that moment, Serin Anette faced off against Elin Beonard.
A shout echoed from afar.
"Serin! Anette!"
"You...!"
Kyle leaped in, sword slashing vertically. Serin shoved Elin aside, spearing his solar plexus to force recall, then swung.
"What the—?!"
But Kyle's stance held against the gust. Mana-clad, he flew at Serin.
Boom!
Blades clashed. Sparks flew as they shoved fiercely.
Face-to-face deadlock. Kyle and Serin Anette's strengths evenly matched.
Neither gained the edge.
"You! Still have fight left?!"
"You're the impressive one! Serin!"
Both exhausted equally. Blades locked, powers dead even.
No yielding, no pushing.
Serin Anette broke the stalemate. She twisted her spear—and thrust.
"First is mine! Give up!"
"No!"
Thud—Bang!
...Kyle Ivanstair blocked the spear tip. A reckless defense only he could pull.
Any other cadet would've recalled. But his leg wound lingered.
"Whoa!"
Kyle's balance crumbled, toppling backward. Serin pounced on the gap.
"Damn! Monster-strong woman...!"
"Excuse me!"
Serin's foot pinned Kyle's chest. As her spear plunged, he barely blocked with his hilt.
But pinned down was disadvantageous. The tip inched toward his throat.
"It's over. Give up, Kyle Ivanstair."
"No... can't...!"
As Serin tensed her arms—
Bang—!
"Gah, ugh!"
Serin Anette couldn't grasp what hit her. But Kyle saw clearly.
A blue beam from the dense forest struck her nape. Yellow sparks erupted, shrouding her.
Her perfect stance collapsed. Spear wobbled, stabbing the ground.
Miss this, and no second chance. Kyle thrust his sword.
"This... can't... be...!"
The blade flew at her solar plexus. No obstacles—finally, it reached—
"Kuh...!"
Serin Anette vanished in light, recalled emptily.
"Haa... huu..."
The fight ended. Confirming her gone, Kyle rose. Legs shook.
Propping on his sword, he looked up. Two cadets approached from afar.
Kyle gripped his hilt. Final battle awaited.
Stamina drained—no more fight left. But no surrender either.
"...Guess first place isn't for me."
A faint smile crossed Kyle's face. Without the support fire, he'd have lost to Serin.
A man shed his ghillie suit. A woman beside him.
These three on the peak: the last survivors.
Serin Anette was out. Three cadets left: me, Iri, and Kyle Ivanstair before us.
"Um, Sion... so..."
Iri fidgeted beside me. I pushed her back and helped Kyle up.
He held his sword but didn't attack. I knew his character wouldn't.
"You're the one who helped?"
"......"
"Don't know your name, but thanks, friend."
Still that dumb face. Straight out of a shonen manga protagonist.
This guy lived true to his looks, unlike Camille Esperand. Too kind, like he'd give his liver and gall.
Maybe that's why he's the protagonist.
"I'm Kyle, Kyle Ivanstair. Nice to meet ya."
Dusting off, he introduced himself. Wariness gone—but other thoughts crossed my mind.
In the original, after beating the final enemy, a choice: fight Kyle or yield first to him.
Either worked fine. Just added minor events.
But on hell difficulty? Different story.
First or second—path ahead is thorns either way.
If Kyle takes first, he gets buffs but attracts villains' eyes.
If second, they target the Player instead.
Pick your poison. You'll suffer, wander death's door repeatedly.
Better minimize hassle, reduce Kyle's death risk.
Most skip the second route—needlessly hard, no real perks.
Only bored veterans pick it.
And... I chose that unpicked second route.
I'd tried both. Maybe why the angel dropped me here, gave me Unique-grade Sharp Shooter.
In the game, retries allowed fun picks. Now reality—no do-overs.
Second route: hunted by villains before growing.
Plus, Esperand blood. Father Duke Esperand—act 3 main boss.
Villains will approach the villain's son somehow. Tricky spot.
Second route: true unknown.
So, first route. Make Kyle first instead.
Villains fixate on him, his suffering path opens.
I'll snipe their backs. With Sharp Shooter, most efficient build.
Sorry for Kyle, but suffering's shared.
"......"
Separate thought: could I beat Kyle now?
'No.'
Even exhausted Kyle—iffy odds. Foolish notion.
Known Kyle wouldn't strike first here.
Late chuckle escaped.
"I'll yield first to you. I'd have lost solo anyway. Same now."
Iri flinched. I faced Kyle.
"Let's introduce ourselves, friend."
"Yeah."
I clapped his shoulder.
"A-839, Sion Illeionhart."
"A-1, Kyle Ivanstair."
Names exchanged, I glanced back. Iri trembled like she'd topple.
"Anyway, that cool? Yielding first to you."
"Nah, no way."
I stepped back, side-eyeing Iri a signal.
"Iri."
"...Yes!"
Our glance exchanged—Kyle saw. He gripped his hilt, shaking.
Tense face.
"No way you're like Serin Anette..."
"Who knows. Probably not."
I raised my Glock. As Kyle fully readied—
I pulled the trigger.
Bang—!
"Kyaa?!"
I shot Iri beside me. Eyes squeezed shut, she recalled.
Startled scream, but bracelet—no pain.
"Wha...?"
Kyle's face: utter confusion. But sharp instincts—he sensed it.
"You don't mean...!"
Chuckle at his stunned voice. He never saw this coming.
No exam-abandoning weirdo at the endgame.
Yet here I was.
Kyle kicked off, charging—sword tossed aside.
Before his hand reached, I aimed Glock at my chin.
For my comfy retirement, you'll take first for me.
Like it or not, I'll force it down your throat.
You won't get it now, but necessary for world peace.
Final boss falls to Kyle, not me.
Sion Illeionhart smirked faintly.
And.
Bang!
Light shimmered before Kyle's eyes. Sion Illeionhart and Iri both dropped out.
Suddenly first, Kyle Ivanstair stared blankly at their spots.
He'd expected a final fight. But they mutually quit?
"Why...?"
First was Sion's for the taking. Unfathomable.
Whatever their thoughts, Sion made him first.
Mist still approached below. Kyle advanced to the flag for them.
Arsen's eagle emblem. Facing it, doubt: do I deserve first?
"...No, I must."
For those who sacrificed. Kyle grasped the pole.
Yanking it from the podium in one pull.
The grueling exam's end. The final first decided.
Announcement to all prospective cadets.
The exam has ended. Repeating: the exam has ended.
First place: 'Kyle Ivanstair'. That is all.
Dave's Peak. The echoing voice closed it.
Whoosh—!
Warm light enveloped his body.