Chapter 12
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“Three of them at the nine o’clock position, right now.”
“...”
Elijah swung the sword with a deeply displeased look.
The wolf-shaped dummy magical beasts that had been about to ambush Elijah from the darkness were swept away by the blow.
“Two more from the ceiling. Their weak point is the neck.”
“...Um, sir.”
As Elijah swiftly severed the necks of two bat-shaped dummies, they tried to say something.
“Oh, and the next tile has a floor trap. Just break the paralysis-poison launcher on the right.”
“Sir. I have a favor to ask.”
“What?”
“Could you please do something besides give me orders and actually help me...?”
“No.”
“...”
Elijah’s face crumpled even further, but I chuckled and added a comment.
“You were the one who tried to beat me up the moment you saw me last time.”
“...That’s true.”
“And you were the one who brought up apologizing this time, right? You said you’d do anything I told you to.”
“...I did.”
“So what are you complaining about?”
“...Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
Elijah was the one who’d brightened up and rushed over when I suggested we ‘get to know each other’ a little.
Elijah should keep that promise.
“...”
More importantly, even if I wanted to help, I couldn’t.
Without Life-or-Death, I’m nothing more or less than a piece of trash with pathetic stats.
It was better for Elijah to handle all the fighting while I just gave instructions.
‘And...’
What had become clear as we went through this simulated artificial dungeon was this:
Life-or-Death definitely doesn’t activate unless there’s ‘malice’ intended to harm me.
That’s probably why it doesn’t activate against dummies that simply repeat preprogrammed actions.
So what does that imply?
Life-or-Death isn’t all-powerful. It definitely has a weakness.
I needed to quickly abandon the naive belief that this skill would save me in every situation.
‘I need to raise my stats, too.’
As expected, stats are like basic physical fitness that applies in every situation. Growth is essential.
All the more so considering the performance of items and skills is affected by stats.
As I was thinking about it, Elijah began grumbling again beside me.
“With your skills, sir, you might even do better than me. If we both worked together, we’d get through this much faster—”
[ Amazing speed! ]
[ You’ve broken the record set two years ago! ]
“...”
Elijah, who’d been about to complain, immediately shut up at the announcement booming out with a fanfare.
“No, why? How is this possible? What on earth are you doing?”
From the bewilderment in Elijah’s voice, it was clear that the record being broken despite the way we were doing things had left them stunned.
“Is that so surprising?”
“It’s not just surprising—it’s completely absurd!”
Elijah burst out.
“This mock battle stage was designed on the assumption that two people would be fighting together. But you just have me run around by myself and we’re breaking the record... What is this? Sir, are you using some kind of magic? Even regular knights couldn’t get through it like this. Huh? What is going on?”
“...”
I couldn’t help chuckling to myself at how Elijah looked like they were having an identity crisis.
‘This is a sweet deal, if you ask me.’
At the very least, I had enough experience to call myself a veteran of this game.
And now I’d got a top-tier asset who would move without questioning a word I said?
I could clear a dungeon this early in the game with my eyes closed.
‘Hmm.’
And if I kept speedrunning like this with ‘just one person,’ there was definitely someone who’d take an interest in me.
The reward for clearing this mock battle was important, of course, but so was that.
I needed to get acquainted with them while I had the chance.
So, in the end...
“The next section will be a little tougher than this one, but let’s keep at it. You can do it.”
Hang in there.
Because you’ll be doing all of it alone until then.
“...”
Elijah ground their teeth.
Keep that up and you’ll break a tooth, idiot.
●
Evan Kramer, a second-year student in the Department of Magical Beast Studies, sat before the control panel, looking pale.
“The mock battle stages are quite well made these days. Did the department put them together itself?”
“Y-Yes, sir...!”
When Evan barely managed to answer in a strangled voice, the man gave a soft chuckle while looking at the screen showing the inside of the stage.
“We can afford to increase your budget a reasonable amount next year.”
The man speaking undoubtedly had more than enough authority to say something like that.
After all, he was the dean of the Department of Knights.
Conrad Baltador.
There were only four deans below the academy president, which meant that at least within the academy, he wielded practically absolute power.
It was obvious that even being beside him would make an ordinary student feel like they could barely breathe.
‘Why is someone like him at a booth for some event like this...!’
As Evan trembled and turned that thought over in his mind, another voice interrupted.
“Oh, Conrad. What are you doing here?”
Unfortunately for Evan, the owner of the voice that appeared next was no more helpful in lightening the mood.
When Evan saw the newcomer enter the booth alongside several haggard-looking assistant professors from the Department of Magecraft, he nearly started hyperventilating.
“And you, Persi? You hardly ever leave your office.”
“I just came out to see the new students for a change. Seeing such fresh young faces always cheers me up.”
“...”
Conrad silently looked past the woman called Persi at the assistant professors, who were half-dead.
“...You’re not looking for new tools—sorry, graduate students, are you?”
“Well, if they come to me of their own accord, I certainly won’t turn them away.”
Persi Cistern Levantine, dean of the Department of Magecraft, replied with a beaming smile.
“Anyway, you still haven’t answered me. I asked what you’re doing here, didn’t I?”
“There’s someone I’ve had my eye on lately.”
Conrad answered, turning his gaze back to the screen.
Persi’s gaze naturally followed.
“Oh, I know that student, too. The candidate to become the next Hero, right?”
As Persi said that, her eyes naturally settled on the record being displayed on the panel beside them.
As expected, the speed at which the candidate cleared each section was far superior to that of an ordinary student.
Just as you’d expect from a Hero candidate, they were certainly worth watching...
“No. Not that one.”
“...?”
Persi tilted her head and turned her gaze to the other student.
“Who’s that?”
“Dowd Campbell.”
“Oh, the one they say cheated?”
Even Persi, who wasn’t well-versed in the outside world because she rarely left her lab, had heard rumors about the freshman causing a stir lately.
Apparently, Dowd had won against the candidate for Hero in a rigged sparring match.
“...But why is the person who was supposedly cheated standing with him?”
“Looks like that guy knows, too.”
Conrad snorted as he replied.
“That his talent is the real thing.”
“His talent?”
Persi furrowed her brows slightly and stared at the screen.
Talent... did he even have any?
No matter how you looked at it, Dowd seemed to be freeloading off the Hero candidate.
“This is why I can’t stand mages who only know how to push pens.”
“Why are you picking a fight with me all of a sudden?”
“This record here is one the Hero candidate could never set on their own. If anything, he’s the one doing the real work.”
“...Pardon?”
Persi tilted her head as she asked, but instead of explaining in detail, Conrad turned his gaze back to the screen.
From this far away, it somehow seemed even easier to see.
Just how absurd the man’s actions were.
‘...Interesting.’
There were occasionally freshmen who got good records.
But in the end, that was just a lucky break layered over inexperience. It was hard to call it their true ability.
From that perspective.
What about the way this man was overcoming the obstacles?
‘He’s calculating everything.’
The Hero candidate was positioned as if Dowd already knew where the magical beasts would emerge.
A strike flew out in response to an order given at a meticulously calculated moment.
Follow-up movements flowed seamlessly, as if he could see right through every coming pattern.
Every decision he made in each moment was close to the perfect answer.
Though he was just standing there and talking, even that alone let him toy with a complex, intricately arranged artificial dungeon as if it were in the palm of his hand.
I can say with certainty.
‘No other “freshman” in Elphante’s history has ever cleared a dungeon like this.’
It was almost as if...
‘He’d spent thousands of battles on the field.’
That was the only way to explain such seasoned skill.
It made no sense for him to have such ability without any real-world experience.
And the fact that he’d ‘survived in actual combat’ long enough to develop it meant there was no doubt he was hiding something beyond the unimpressive exterior that made him so easy to underestimate.
“...”
That only made him more intriguing.
If this guy himself stepped in and took part in clearing the dungeon alongside the Hero, just what kind of record would they set?
The record so far was only half a record, with just one person doing the work. What if Dowd himself took part?
“No, I really don’t see it, no matter how I look.”
But this foolish mage beside him had been saying nothing but frustrating things for a while now.
“Then shall we make a bet?”
“A bet?”
“Do you remember the record you and I set in the mock battle when we were freshmen?”
“Of course.”
Conrad and Persi: the academy’s most legendary freshman duo.
The mock battle record they set still stood alone at the top of the all-time rankings.
“I’ll bet that he breaks it.”
Persi’s eyes widened.
“...You really think he can do that?”
“I do.”
“All right. Since you’re going that far, I’ll take you up on it. I’ll bet he can’t break it.”
“Good.”
As he said that, he picked up the microphone attached to the control panel.
“This is Conrad Baltador, dean of the Department of Knights. Can you hear me?”
His voice was probably being broadcast into the dungeon like an announcement.
The fact that Elijah was startled and looked up at the ceiling was proof enough.
‘This is interesting.’
By contrast, Conrad smiled at Dowd, who stood there calmly without the slightest sign of surprise, and spoke.
“Watching you progress has piqued my interest. Would you mind if I made you an offer?”
“Go ahead.”
Even the way Dowd immediately took him up on it, as if he’d been waiting for exactly that, was something else.
“The dean of Magecraft, Persi, and I have made a bet outside.”
“A bet?”
“Whether you can break the record we set as freshmen. If you actually pull it off... well, you’ll have the right to ask Persi for one thing, anything you want.”
Across from them, Persi knitted her brows slightly as if to say, Isn’t that taking it a bit far? But she didn’t object very strongly.
She seemed confident that the record, which had stood at the top for so long, wouldn’t be so easy to break.
“If that sounds like too much pressure, you don’t have to. The record you’ve set so far is already impressive, and this is practically an unreasonable request.”
“Oh, that’s fine.”
Because...
“I’ll break it for sure.”
When Dowd Campbell answered that way,
the look on Persi’s face was truly a sight to behold.
●
“Wow...”
The moment she stepped inside the student council’s private gym, the wave of heat made Beatrix exclaim in disbelief.
Elnore, sprawled in the middle of the floor and drenched in sweat, probably had a lot to do with that reaction, too.
“What is all this?”
Beatrix let out a hollow laugh, then tossed Elnore a water bottle as she asked.
“I needed to clear my head.”
“Right. I know you come here to work up a sweat by yourself whenever that happens. But what was bothering you this time?”
“The usual. It’s been worse lately.”
At that, Beatrix’s expression immediately turned serious.
There was a dark rumor going around Imperial high society.
A demon lives in the bloodline of House Tristan.
The phrase had two meanings.
One was praise for the inhuman genius displayed by anyone belonging to this ducal house, who excelled in every field.
The second was probably a metaphor for the ‘madness’ common to all members of the house, perhaps as a backlash to that.
Sudden, explosive displays of extreme violence and a decline in reason.
The longer time passed, the worse it became, and House Tristan was famous for its members meeting miserable ends despite all their achievements.
Elnore wasn’t free of that phenomenon, either.
No, in her case, it was probably especially severe.
Beatrix could still recall several sides of Elnore she could never bring herself to tell anyone about.
“...Is it bad?”
“Not enough to worry about. That’s not the only reason I’m doing this, either.”
Elnore chuckled and wiped away her sweat with a towel.
“There was something I wanted to remember.”
“Something you wanted to remember?”
“A move my mother taught me when I was little. It was a technique I learned when I first started swordsmanship... but I can’t quite remember it. So I’ve been going over my swordsmanship from the beginning.”
For someone who normally showed not even a trace of emotion, her voice was tinged with sorrow, but instead of pointing it out, Beatrix smiled wryly.
Elnore’s feelings toward her father and mother were so opposite as to be called extreme.
That may have been especially true because she’d lost her mother when she was young.
“Well, don’t overdo it.”
“I’m fine. If I work myself until I’m this exhausted, nothing much can get to me.”
“Really? Then I can just say it, I guess.”
Elnore’s gaze shifted groggily back to Beatrix.
“...What is it? What are you about to say?”
“I’m only telling you because you asked me to pass along any information about that guy as soon as it came in. One of my underclassmen told me a little while ago.”
“So tell me. What is it?”
“Dowd Campbell is with the candidate for the next Hero right now. They’re in a mock battle. And apparently he more or less picked a fight with the deans, no less—”
Sparks flew from Elnore’s eyes.
“So you’re saying the two of them are together right now?”
“...”
Apparently, that mattered more to her than him picking a fight with the deans.
“Well, a mock battle is done in teams of two, so of course they’re together, right?”
Elnore immediately sprang to her feet. Sweat flew everywhere, but she didn’t seem to care.
“I thought you said you were so exhausted that nothing much could get to you.”
“Quiet. Where is it?”
This woman is seriously insane.
Beatrix’s temples, which had been aching especially often lately, began throbbing again.
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