Chapter 85

Magical energy is like alcohol. If you overindulge, it damages your brain and shatters your mind, ultimately leading to death. Of course, this doesn’t apply to me.

[Excessive magical energy detected.]

[1-second invincibility activated.]

[1-second invincibility cooldown: 60 seconds]

If I exceed my capacity, the “1-second invincibility” will purge the magical energy from my body. Therefore, I need to know my limit. After countless attempts, I finally succeeded in sensing what it feels like to contain 97% of my magical capacity.

“This is impressive. It’s rare for someone to sense their optimal capacity. Many go mad by overindulging in magical energy,” Hetherson said, releasing my hand.

“Is that a mistake people make often?”

“Magical energy is a deceitful force that tricks the brain. It’s like a drug. Use it too much, and your senses go awry. You start questioning if you’re using the right amount and end up increasing your intake little by little.”

Well, I wouldn’t know since I’ve never done such wicked things. It seems similar to coffee addiction—building up a caffeine tolerance until you drink more. But that has nothing to do with me. Even if my senses go haywire, “1-second invincibility” ensures I won’t be harmed.

“By the way, did you bring it today?”

Hetherson asked, licking his lips. I placed a bundle on the desk, contents filled with food from the cafeteria.

“Of course. They say even a ghost who died from overeating looks nice.”

“You cheeky brat. Always with the mouth…”

I had been bringing food to Hetherson on class days as a token of my appreciation. After all, a death row inmate doesn’t receive a salary. He needed some form of reward to be motivated to teach sincerely. Hetherson devoured the meat voraciously.

“Much better than cold bread.”

The old professor cleared his throat.

“It’s just food for a condemned man. You should be grateful for such luxuries.”

Hetherson ignored the old professor’s grumbling and finished the plate in no time. I handed him a bag of cookies for dessert.

“What’s this?”

“Cookies baked by our maid who works at a café.”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

They were ginger cookies, which didn’t suit my taste. Since Selly made them using her mother’s recipe, I couldn’t refuse and had just one. Hetherson took a bite and puckered his lips.

“Oh, ginger cookies! Never thought I’d taste home snacks here.”

“Aren’t they common?”

“Of course not. They’re traditional snacks from my region.”

Seeing him sucking on his fingers like that made me pity him. It stirred both sympathy and curiosity.

“Don’t you have any regrets?”

“About what?”

“If you knew this would happen, would you have made different choices?”

Hetherson snorted.

“Don’t be silly. You’re too young to understand how this country works. Even if I could go back, I’d still kill that bastard.”

He must be talking about the Imperial Third Knight Commander he killed. If only he hadn’t meddled, he wouldn’t have ended up like this. From what I heard, he was captured shortly after, exhausted.

“But there is one thing I do regret.”

Hetherson looked nostalgic and wiggled his pinky with a lecherous grin. It was a crude gesture, implying a girlfriend.

“There was a woman I lived with. Strong-willed and feisty, she was very attractive. Of course, she was too good for a guy like me.”

“So, she eventually left you because you were nothing but trouble?”

“Argh…”

Hetherson grabbed his neck and sighed.

“Ah, it’s pointless to get mad. You’re half right and half wrong. She asked me to refuse the offer to become an underworld guardian executive. She wanted us to live an ordinary life. It’s obvious what happened next. While I was working, she packed up and left, leaving a note saying I was a bastard she couldn’t stand. If there’s anything I regret, it’s that decision.”

“Bastard she couldn’t stand… Is that some regional dialect?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

His expression looked so troubled that I offered some comfort.

“She probably did well for herself. Strong-willed people adapt easily anywhere.”

“Fool. She died before me.”

“Oh…”

“Well, it would’ve been better if she’d lived well. Lately, I often wonder what would’ve happened if I’d listened to her.”

Hetherson gave an awkward laugh as if uncomfortable with his confession.

“Talking nonsense to you. Maybe it’s time for me to go.”

“It wasn’t too bad. It showed some humanity.”

Hetherson looked away, glancing at the nearby object.

“It’s holding up quite well.”

The candelabrum made of Liquid Gold. The pillow-sized metal chunk on top began to lose its magical power. The candelabrum melted, and the metal chunk fell.

Crash!

It punched a hole through the desk and cracked the stone floor beneath.

“Phew, that’s it for today.”

“Keep at it every day like building muscle. Soon you’ll be able to shape it with the hardness of steel.”

The old professor jumped up, furious.

“Who’s going to fix the desk? And the floor?”

“That’s your job, old man. I was just teaching.”

Before he could demand compensation, I hurriedly left.

***

Back in my dorm room, I left a plate at the door as usual. While the black cat ate, I opened my textbook. It was more of a review. I’d already mastered the exam material long ago, having prepared for the second semester during my free time. The calculation problems seemed oddly easy, giving me more time for other subjects.

With today’s review done,

“Should I go check on Limberton’s progress?”

I picked up a novel and a chair. The black cat, which should’ve disappeared by now, approached and rubbed against my leg.

“Oh, have you finally warmed up to me?”

“I’ve fed you enough; a thank you is expected.”

The cat meowed and vanished into smoke.

“It’ll be soon.”

– What?

“You’ll see.”

As I descended the stairs, the air was already warm. The Schlaphe Hall lobby was filled with makeshift heaters. Everyone had brought portable heaters instead of studying in their rooms. The dormitory manager was calmly ventilating by opening windows as I headed toward Limberton.

“Hey, you’re here?”

“Have you been studying well?”

“I feel like I hear that ten times a day. I’m working hard, okay? Stop asking.”

Confident, are we? Time for a surprise question.

“What’s the protocol if you get separated from your unit in the labyrinth?”

Limberton scratched his head and pretended to search his pockets.

“Break the signal stick.”

Entering the labyrinth, we’re given chopstick-sized signal sticks made of resonant mana stone. Breaking one releases mana, causing nearby signal sticks to flash. There are three colors.

“What color should you break if isolated?”

“Black.”

“Correct. What about red?”

“Uh… danger signal?”

Black indicates missing. Red signals danger or enemy sighting.

“And the last one?”

“Blue. It means the target has been found.”

Blue indicates mission completion, usually upon finding treasure or a hidden dungeon. That’s the pathfinder’s job. Seeing blue meant you could head home and relax.

“Correct.”

Limberton puffed his chest proudly. Showing off for knowing the basics, huh? Still, he must’ve worked hard, so I didn’t say more.

“Don’t get cocky. What you memorized in three hours, I could read once and remember.”

“Ugh.”

Limberton opened his textbook with a downcast expression. I looked at Aslay, who was flipping pages seriously. He barely touched his Imperial dictionary anymore.

“Hmm.”

Given the circumstances, he has the toughest conditions for the exam. Besides struggling with Imperial, his trait prevents him from scoring above 60% on multiple-choice. He has to ace the subjective questions to pass, as his trait’s curse doesn’t affect written answers.

I left the two to their studies and sat down with my book. The sounds of scribbling and muttering filled the air but didn’t bother me. Except for the shadow cast by this girl.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

Athera asked in a trembling voice, her face full of anxiety.

“A genre novel.”

“What? Less than two weeks before the exam, and you’re reading? Didn’t you boast about getting first place?”

“Yes, I did. Why?”

I asked half-lidded, and Athera’s pupils shook. Sensing something, I smirked.

“Did you bet on me?”

“…How did you know?”

“That makes me happy. Smart choice, betting on me. But still annoying. Trying to make money off me without permission?”

“I’m studying half an hour a day, but it’s tough. Lots of difficult questions.”

Athera’s face turned pale. She must’ve bet a significant amount.

“Shouldn’t you study harder? I’ll help. Let’s study 21 hours a day, with just 3 hours of sleep.”

Athera pleaded desperately. I raised my chin arrogantly.

“I don’t need your guidance. Give me half the profits, and I’ll study.”

“Half?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Alright, just study.”

I pretended to read my textbook. Athera kept glancing at me anxiously. She must be dying of worry. She invested heavily in this, so my winnings will be substantial.

***

On the day of the written exam,

In the first-year magic class, all dorm students were staring intently at their textbooks, trying to memorize one last thing. Rockefeller, who volunteered as the proctor, kept his eyes on the entrance.

‘He boasted about getting first place? I’ll see if he can pull it off.’

He included questions rarely on exams. Even with tutoring from seniors, they wouldn’t manage. The questions doubled, and he made some himself. Even if Hersel scored well, there was nothing to worry about.

‘You weren’t the only one who aced the entrance exam, Hersel ben Tenest.’

Rockefeller looked at a man comfortably leaning back with his arms crossed, glasses on the desk, eyes closed. He was a prodigy who entered Adelle Hall. He might score perfectly again.

Footsteps echoed, and the man opened his eyes. The hot topic of the academy entered. Whispers of “Hersel” filled the room as students glanced at him and murmured.

“Did he really think he’d get first? I thought he’d make excuses and bail.”

“Good, more coins for us.”

“I hope he doesn’t cheat.”

Hersel scanned them and spoke.

“Did you know? Our Schlaphe students have been studying hard lately. So…”

He raised his chin and smirked arrogantly. His deep voice filled the room.

“Anyone who scores lower than us should hand over their dorm spot and die. You’re not worth living.”

Pens snapped all around.