Chapter 72
1 Second Invincibility in the Game
In the slums, thereâs no distinction between people and the sewer rats wandering the streets.
On foggy days, they would puff on cigarettes until the smoke became even thicker, drink more alcohol than water, and the only remaining shred of humanity was covering roadside corpses with tattered cloth. Other than that, their lives were no different from that of a rat.
When crumbs fell, they would snatch them up quickly, scratching and biting any other rat that came near until it retreated.
A life where being underestimated meant starving to death, and being overly defiant meant dying. It was hard to tell if it was a ratâs life or a humanâs.
Starting from such a life, Hetherson became an executive known as the âShadow Sentinelâ in the slums.
Despite this, he found himself in a heart-pounding situation over a mere prank.
âWhat is this guy?â
To become a big shot in the slums, you had to go through all sorts of trials and tribulations.
You had to meet all kinds of people, and naturally, your ability to read their minds improved.
But this guyâs eyes seemed endlessly calm.
âThis cocky bastard⦠does he think he can fool me?â
Hetherson had seen countless people charging at him as if they were going to kill him.
Some even died trying, but they all showed a moment of hesitation.
No matter how determined, humans instinctively reject death, making even a small hesitation inevitable.
Hetherson chuckled as he looked at the chain on his wrist.
âDo I look like Iâm afraid of some brat?â
He tried to act confident, but Hersel steadily continued drawing the formula.
Even though it led to the path of suicide, the hand holding the staff was infinitely calm.
Hetherson maintained a poker face, desperately trying to shake off his anxiety.
âHeâs bluffing.â
Yet, as the formula neared completion, the worst-case scenario of âwhat ifâ kept playing in his mind.
Explosion death.
If mana and magic energy were made to conflict and create a chain reaction, even a small amount would be dangerous.
While it might not be a problem for the professor, with his magic and aura suppressed by the chain, his flesh would tear apart at this distance.
âItâs almost finished.â
Unswallowed saliva pooled in his mouth, betraying his agitation.
Hersel, with a calm face, began to approach, drawing the formula with his staff.
âSince itâs my first time, itâs taking a while.â
âYou idiot, do you think Iâll fall for that?â
âLetâs see if it works.â
What?
At Herselâs reply, Hetherson instinctively sensed danger.
It was as if Hersel didnât consider it a bluff from the start, only questioning its efficacy.
â¦He canât be serious, right?
The staffâs tip aimed at the final point of the formula.
He unintentionally shouted.
âW-wait!!â
Just as he was about to reach out and stop him, the formula started tearing apart.
Zap!
Turning his head, he saw the old professor panting heavily, aiming his staff.
âHuff⦠That was closeâ¦!â
â If he had been even a second late, I would be dead.
âHersel Ben Tenest⦠Were you really trying to die?â
Despite the old professorâs stern glare, Hersel responded calmly.
âI was just trying what I was taught.â
Hetherson felt a chill watching Hersel lick his lips as if regretting it.
This guy was serious.
He really was going to blow himself up without hesitation.
âHa⦠Canât believe you actually tried it. Hetherson, enough with the pranks.â
Despite the professorâs scolding, Hetherson stared blankly at Herselâs face.
A serene smile, as if he had transcended death itself, was on his face.
âThis guy is crazier than any lunatic Iâve ever seenâ¦â
***
Not like Iâd die anyway, right?
I copied the formula written on the board into my notebook.
This would be my ultimate move, a suicide spell.
Seeing this, Hetherson was horrified.
âWhy are you copying that! You madman!!â
I grinned and replied.
âIt might come in handy.â
Hetherson backed away, shocked at my words.
Even with my limited mana and magic energy, it seemed it would be quite painful.
âUsing this on you might cause some significant damage, right?â
As I grabbed my staff again, Hetherson stuttered.
âS-significant damage? Donât be ridiculous.â
Hetherson shook his head and looked at me seriously.
âEven a small amount of mana, if hit unguarded, is deadly. Do you realize you almost killed me?â
I thought it would just be a painful hit like being struck by a hammer.
âHmm, sorry about that. I didnât mean to.â
Though I felt bad about nearly blowing him up, knowing the spell had that much power made it quite useful.
âDonât give me that half-hearted apology⦠Say it without that smirk.â
Hetherson slumped his shoulders, looking exhausted.
âSigh, fine. Iâll humor you.â
âBut a promise is a promise. I still havenât hit you.â
To learn the Fiend Magic I wanted, I needed to land a hit on this guy.
As a person who values contracts, I couldnât let this slide.
When I looked at him seriously, Hetherson narrowed his eyes.
ââ¦Youâre enjoying this, arenât you?â
He caught on.
* * *
Todayâs supplementary lesson ended a bit early.
Hetherson said heâd prepare a curriculum and told me to go back.
He added that it was more efficient to focus on what suits me rather than comprehensive magical improvement.
â You should concentrate on perfecting one spell. Make sure itâs something you excel in and master it to its fullest.
The scope of Fiend Magic is so wide that itâll take some time, but he said heâd call through a professor when ready, so Iâd probably have to wait a few days.
âFor now, itâs going to be relaxing.â
â If you have nothing to do, rest well. Youâve been accumulating fatigue lately.
Come to think of it, I didnât feel refreshed this morning either.
The mild exhaustion I felt upon waking up suggested I needed to pay more attention to my health.
âI should wash up and get some sleep.â
As I left the fortress, I noticed the air was less chilly than usual.
âHoo.â
Blowing out a breath to see, it was much lighter than usual.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
The snowflakes riding the wind had disappeared, and the height of the accumulated snow had significantly decreased.
It was already early April.
Enjoying the faint scent of spring, I walked towards the horizon.
The foundation of the fortress was so high that there was a very steep staircase in front. I had to go down it to reach the gardens and walkways besides Schlaphe Hall.
After spending just over a month here, my legs moved familiarly.
Soon, the dungeon practice for first-year students who hadnât taken the third exam would start.
Of course, there was a high chance of fatalities.
While professors did their best to ensure student safety within the academy, they emphasized practical training, so it was a hands-off approach in the mazes and dungeons.
However, in this storyline, Ricks, who started from Schlaphe Hall without taking the third exam, would be there.
Already having left a strong impression on the Schlaphe Hall students, he would demonstrate leadership through his characteristic âGentle Charisma,â leading to a near-miraculous cohesion.
His excellent grades, numerous companions, and strength revealed through fights with the outlaws made even the dissatisfied henchmen of Lethe initially rebel but soon succumb to the numbers.
Ultimately, the professors would recognize Ricksâ qualities, seeing his ability to quell coin disputes among students, and after the first semester, heâd be assigned to Adelle Hall.
It was no wonder that players called him âRicks of the Legion.â
Next were the students of Adelle Hall.
They fit well with the regular curriculum, so they powered up naturally just by attending.
The only exception was the slightly peculiar Leana, but soon a teacher suited to her would arrive, ensuring her growth.
So I should worry about myself.
â Isnât the Monsterology class starting soon?
A notice about the dungeon practice in a month.
Since it was one of the subjects for the midterm exam in the first semester, I needed high marks to advance to Buerger Hall.
But that was for later.
âLetâs see. The test is in three days, and tomorrow is the weekend, so I get five consecutive days offâ¦â
Thanks to the dungeon practice for the first-year students of Schlaphe Hall, those who took the third exam had some free time.
Coincidentally, supplementary lessons would take a few days, so I could relax a bit.
Tap-tap.
Feeling like I was on vacation, my steps lightened.
As I got closer to the stairs, I looked down.
A subtle red-tinted black hair came into view.
Even while under the professorâs watch, Luon smiled gently and spoke to me.
âThe scent of spring flowers has drifted here.â
His endlessly calm tone.
Hiding my discomfort, I replied briefly.
âIt seems even in this cold place, pollen flies.â
âAre you looking forward to summer when the snow melts?â
âIndeed. If the snowy mountains turn green⦠well, it would be nice to see.â
As we talked calmly, the professor interrupted Luon.
The conversation ended, and I stared blankly at Luonâs back.
Though recently caught up in my changes, there was no need to worry.
Luon hadnât taken anything from the Forbidden Library.
Moreover, the only way to enter was through a key strictly managed by the professor or a formula known only to Felia.
As someone unfamiliar with magic, Luon had no way of accessing it.
In the end, his fate to be killed by the playable characters remained unchanged.
As a background character, I only needed to watch from a distance.
I took my eyes off Luon and descended the stairs.
With a busy schedule ahead, I should enjoy the peace for now.
***
âEmericâ¦.â
âPathetic losers.â
Emeric, a third-year from Adelle Hall and the representative of Buerger Hall, clicked his tongue as he looked at the returning Ebil and his group, who had been gone for half a day.
âYouâre the first in Frostheartâs history to get beaten up and come back from Schlaphe Hall.â
âWe have no excuse. But thereâs a freshman who took down Bidon. And now even Makdal is his lackeyâ¦â
The duo was formidable enough that even Emeric in the past couldnât be sure of defeating them.
âEmeric, you also turned a blind eye to their rampage.â
But that was all in the past.
Now a third-year, Emeric could easily take them both on.
The duo, aware of this, had only acted within safe limits, instinctively knowing they would lose if they fought.
âItâs amusing. You said you had a relationship with Makdal, so I let it slide. Have you forgotten?â
âTh-thatâs true, but you couldnât easily beat them either. What could we do?â
âMe not beating them easily? Nonsense. Even in the past, I would have destroyed them in a one-on-one.â
Now, Emeric was strong enough to be considered for the top ten students, known as the Ten Masters, in Frostheart.
He tossed a book he was holding and sliced it cleanly with just his index finger.
Shing!
Seeing it sliced so neatly, Ebilâs group widened their eyes in surprise.
âCreating such a sharp aura without a weaponâ¦â
In Buerger Hall, only a few could use aura within their bodies, let alone project it like a weapon.
Even in Adelle Hall, those who could wield it this proficiently were rare.
âBut breaking the hierarchy canât be forgiven. Let me show you. Slaves have no right to resist.â
It was a perfect time.
Soon, the first-year students who hadnât taken the third exam would be starting their dungeon practice.
Emeric looked at Ebilâs group with a fierce gaze.
âGather all the Buerger Hall students. I have orders to give.â
This weekend, a storm was about to hit Schlaphe Hall.