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Author: Renegade

  • The Incompetent Mage’s Infinite Regression Chapter 2

    Ethan saw text appear before his eyes.

    [Item Acquired!]
    [Item: Handgun (C)]

    But just seeing the message wasn’t enough to understand its meaning.

    “Glock 45? A handgun?”

    Another set of text appeared.

    [Archive Acquired!]
    [Archive: Handgun (D)]

    [Skill Acquired!]
    [Skill: Marksmanship (D)]

    Even before Ethan could ask what an archive, skill, or download was, he already had a rough idea.

    ‘A handgun is a weapon from Terra. Like an alchemically crafted cannon, it fires metal using gunpowder. But it’s small enough to be held in one hand, making it highly portable… I’ve never learned this knowledge before.’

    Ethan glanced down at the handgun in his grip, then instinctively removed and reassembled the slide at a nearby table. He then pulled the slide back to chamber a round and aligned the sights in the proper stance.

    ‘I’ve never trained in this technique either…’

    Demi spoke.

    <An archive grants knowledge of another world, while a skill provides its techniques. By downloading these, you gain the knowledge and abilities of that world.>

    When Ethan pulled the slide again, the chambered bullet was ejected. He caught it effortlessly.

    “So, is this the dark magic of another world?”

    “I see. So that’s what magic is called in your world.”

    <No, that’s not quite…>

    Ethan reflected on his new archive and skill.

    “I understand that this magic can kill people. I can’t quite grasp it yet, but it seems remarkable. However, just this alone isn’t enough to make me a great mage.”

    <You can gain greater power through ‘leveling up.’>

    “Leveling up?”

    Demi explained.

    <To level up, you must gather ‘experience points.’ Experience is earned by completing ‘quests,’ defeating powerful foes, overcoming difficult challenges, or experiencing extraordinary events.>

    “And quests?”

    <They are missions assigned based on your current situation and goals. Now that the explanation is complete, your first quest is available.>

    Once again, text appeared before Ethan’s eyes.

    [Quest Initiated!]
    [Quest: Pass Basic Magic Practice (D)]

    Ethan read the message, looked down at the object in his hand, then glanced back at the text.

    “That should be simple.”

    <Shall we finalize the contract?>

    Ethan responded.

    “I’ll do it.”

    “You stayed until the last class. How admirable. Is it the honour of a noble house?”

    “Well, if it’s confirmed that I can’t use magic, it’d be more of a disgrace, wouldn’t it?”

    A few hours later, Ethan ignored the chuckles around him as he walked down toward the lecture platform. He had always thought that having Professor Ribbelton’s Basic Magic Practice class in a tiered lecture hall was excessive. For someone unable to use magic, it was a humiliating setup.

    Professor Ribbelton addressed him from the front.

    “Ethan, this is your final practice.”

    “Yes.”

    “It’s prepared as requested. Does it seem acceptable?”

    “Yes.”

    Ethan had asked Ribbelton to set up a thin curtain, blocking the students’ view and only casting his shadow onto them with a backlight. It was common practice to obscure direct observation of magic, especially for non-basic spells or family magic, to protect its secrets. Though a reasonable request, some students still sneered at him.

    Ethan paid them no mind.

    ‘So this isn’t a place of humiliation, after all.’

    From the platform, he surveyed the students. For those proficient in magic, this tiered hall was actually a stage to showcase their spells. Typically, students would conjure a ball of light or project a palm-sized illusion—a chance to demonstrate even minor successes and be recognized for them.

    “When you’re ready, begin.”

    Ethan stepped behind the curtain, facing the armor-clad training dummy—his target for this session.

    He drew the loaded Glock 45, aimed at the dummy, and pulled the trigger.

    —Bang!

    Even a mere 9mm bullet, propelled by explosive energy, produced a deafening roar capable of damaging one’s eardrums. Indoors, the sound echoed, amplifying its intensity. While Ethan and Ribbelton had expected the noise, the other students froze in shock at the sudden gunshot.

    Ribbelton spoke.

    “Is that all?”

    “Yes.”

    Before the professor removed the curtain, Ethan swiftly concealed the handgun.

    Ribylton approached the fallen dummy.

    “Impressive.”

    Crouching down, he examined the dummy’s armor and began removing it.

    “The sound alone is enough for me to pass you, but this will serve as a lesson for the others.”

    He lifted the metal chest plate and held it up to a candle’s flame. Light seeped through a clean hole.

    “A complete penetration. A remarkable combat spell, Ethan.”

    “Thank you.”

    “I can guess its classification… but this level of power is unprecedented. Is it an original spell?”

    Original spells were self-created, not taught by others. Since Ethan intended to conceal the fact that it was black magic, he had to claim it as his own. Fortunately, Ribbelton seemed to mistake it for a form of alchemy rather than dark magic. In truth, its mechanisms did bear similarities to alchemical techniques.

    “Yes, it is.”

    “Excellent. I can’t discern its inner workings, but if it’s strong enough to bring down a knight, it certainly has practical use in battle. Though I wouldn’t recommend that path for you… Regardless, I assumed you were struggling this semester, but it seems you’ve been working hard behind the scenes. Well done.”

    Ribbelton patted Ethan’s shoulder.

    As far as Ethan could recall, no student had ever received such praise in this class.

    “Thank you, Professor. So, my test result is…?”

    “Why even ask? Of course, you pass.”

    As Ethan returned to his seat, another message appeared before his eyes.

    [‘Quest: Pass Basic Magic Practice (D)’ Completed!]
    [Reward: 12 Experience Points]
    [Reward: D-Rank Lottery Coupon]

    After sitting down, Ethan asked Demi.

    “A D-Rank Lottery Coupon?”

    “You can obtain an item, archive, or skill of D-Rank. D-Rank is the lowest tier.”

    Ethan recalled that the archive for the pistol was D-Rank. Certainly, the pistol itself and its usage were valuable, but simply knowing what a pistol was didn’t seem particularly useful.

    “Can I draw now?”

    “No. You must be in an unconscious state to perform the lottery. In other words…”

    “I have to sleep?”

    Demi was about to provide further explanation when Professor Ribbelton announced the end of class. Ethan decided to wait until he returned to his room to continue the conversation.

    “Ethan.”

    After completing the Basic Magic Practice, Ethan heard someone calling his name and turned around. It was his sister, Arca. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the stone railing of the second-floor corridor that connected the lecture hall to the dormitory, gazing at Ethan.

    “What brings you here, sister?”

    “I heard you passed the Basic Magic Practice class.”

    “Yes.”

    “For most students at a magic academy, me saying this would be unnecessary. Passing Basic Magic Practice is expected for some. But I know you, and I believe you won’t misunderstand what I’m about to say.”

    “Please go ahead.”

    “…Congratulations.”

    Ethan smiled.

    “Thank you, sister. It seems I won’t be able to accept the offer you previously made.”

    “That can’t be helped.”

    Arca averted her gaze for a moment before looking back at Ethan.

    “But I’d like to know how you managed to use magic.”

    Ethan had anticipated this question in some form. If it were anyone else, they might not have noticed, but Arca was well aware of Ethan’s limitations.

    Ethan replied nonchalantly.

    “Through repeated research and practice.”

    “I’m sorry to say this, but your lack of talent isn’t something that can be overcome with effort. As Father once said, people as magically incompetent as you are incredibly rare. You’re a magic fool.”

    Demi spoke.
    “Are you not on good terms with Arca?”

    “For siblings, I’d say we’re fairly normal.”

    “Understood.”

    Ethan told Arca,
    “Regardless of what you believe, the important thing is that I used magic.”

    Arca raised an eyebrow.
    “So, it’s a secret? I see.”

    Without pressing further, Arca left.

    Ethan regretted it somewhat, but he couldn’t reveal the truth about using dark magic. He believed that Arca might understand him, and even keep his secret, but knowing about the existence of a dark mage and not reporting it was a crime. Telling her would put not only himself but also Arca in danger.

    Demi asked, “Will it be alright?”

    “She might cause trouble, but it should be fine for now.”

    Just as Ethan was about to return to his room, he heard someone calling him from close behind.

    “Ethan.”

    The unfamiliar voice made Ethan try to turn around, but he couldn’t.

    — Thud.

    A horrifying sensation crawled up his spine from his side. He tried to scream, but only blood-tinged foam bubbled from his mouth.

    Ethan felt his strength leave him, his body collapsing involuntarily. His eyes widened as he struggled to see who had stabbed him. But his vision darkened at the edges, growing blurry.

    He barely registered that the attacker was wearing a school uniform, but in his fading consciousness, it was meaningless.

    Ethan had died.

    Ethan opened his eyes in darkness.

    The walls around him were made of black bricks, giving off a vaguely familiar feeling, but this was an unfamiliar place. He soon realized he wasn’t alone in this space.

    “You are…?”

    “You have called me the Machine God, Demi. However…”

    The figure before him was clad in sleek metal armor, but through the gaps in its joints, complex gears spun, pistons moved up and down, and wires strained as they pulled its limbs into place. Inside its translucent helmet, a single red light glowed vividly.

    “In Terra, I was known as Deus Ex Machina, or in other words, the ‘God of Mechanical Devices.’”

    Ethan scrutinized Demi carefully.
    “A doll… is that what you are?”

    “I understand there are also magically-operated machines in this world. You may think of me as something similar.”

    Ethan looked around.
    “And where is this?”

    “This is Limbo, the boundary between life and death.”

    Ethan flinched at the word “death.”
    “Wait… then that means I’m dead?”

    “Yes. Thanks to that…”

    Demi extended a black box toward him.

    “You can now draw the lottery.”

  • The Incompetent Mage’s Infinite Regression Chapter 1

     

    “This is your last chance, Ethan.”

    At Professor Ribbelton’s words, Ethan nodded in acknowledgment and returned to his seat.

    Failing to cast a spell in the Basic Magic Practice class meant failing the course. Everyone knew that.

    Any student admitted to Yurmuth Magic Academy would have already learned the necessary spells from their family’s mages or private tutors. Ethan was the only one in the class who had yet to use magic.

    As he walked back to the dormitory after class, other students whispered behind his back.

    “I heard he failed again.”

    “Does that mean he’s going to flunk out?”

    “Looks like it.”

    First-year students who failed their first semester were expelled. Ethan knew this, too.

    Ignoring the murmurs, he walked through the mocking students. Fortunately, enduring humiliation was nothing new to him.

    Ethan Dora Charasen.

    His second name, “Dora,” was given to children born from concubines rather than legal wives. While he was considered part of the family, he was not recognized as nobility. For Ethan, enduring scorn was his fate.

    He turned his head toward a familiar shadow.

    “You failed again, Ethan.”

    A beautiful girl stood before him. Her fiery red hair led up to a pair of vivid crimson eyes, burning like embers. A smirk played on her lips, though it was unclear whether she was holding back laughter or forcing a smile.

    It was Arca Wiz Charasen, his elder half-sister.

    “Wiz” was the name given to those born of the legal wife and a title reserved for heirs to the family.

    “What brings you here, sister?”

    “I wanted to remind you that my offer still stands.”

    As Ethan suppressed a sigh, Arca continued.

    “You should never have enrolled in Yurmuth Magic Academy in the first place. It was a mistake. If you drop out now and serve as my attendant, I’ll take good care of you. What do you say?”

    “I must decline.”

    “Even if, by some miracle, you pass Basic Magic Practice, what about tuition? Father only covered your admission fee. With what little funds you had, you can only afford a single semester.”

    “You need not worry about that.”

    Ethan’s swift responses made Arca pout slightly.

    “Think about it. I’d rather have an attendant who understands his place than a fool expelled from school. If you’re truly a Charasen, you should know how to strike a worthwhile deal. Don’t you agree?”

    Back in his room, Ethan reflected on their conversation.

    Nothing Arca said was wrong.

    A noble family’s illegitimate child typically had limited paths—joining a religious order, learning a trade under a craftsman, or becoming a political tool in family alliances. Becoming a relative’s attendant was also a common fate.

    But for those born into mage families, there was another option—becoming a mage.

    In many nations, including Yurmuth and Charasen, mages were considered akin to knights, granting them a half-noble status. Unlike lords who ruled over land, mages were valuable assets sought after by various institutions. Their worth was determined by skill and magical discipline rather than bloodline.

    A talented mage was always in demand.

    Many illegitimate children of mage families pursued magic, proving their abilities in academies and devoting themselves to magical research to earn the title of mage.

    ‘The problem is… I have no talent.’

    Magic required three essential qualities.

    ‘First, mana sensitivity.’

    Mana was the fundamental energy of magic, present in the air and even within one’s body. A mage had to be able to perceive it. However, Ethan was so dull to mana that he couldn’t even sense his own.

    ‘Second, mana control.’

    Even if one could perceive mana, it couldn’t be used as magic right away. Through breathing techniques, mages needed to draw in mana, refine it, and convert it into magical energy. This process was essential, yet Ethan’s mana flow was completely blocked.

    ‘Third, spell construction.’

    To cast magic, one had to understand complex rituals, mystical principles, and secret techniques. But beyond mere knowledge, a mage needed imagination to visualize and shape their magic. No matter how much mana one possessed, it was useless without the ability to construct spells.

    Ethan lacked all three.

    His family had known this for a long time, and Yurmuth Magic Academy had only confirmed it again.

    But Ethan refused to give up.

    In the ten-thousand-year history of Damarrat Yumaha, he wasn’t the only one without talent. Others had sought ways to overcome this, and some had even found meaningful answers.

    If he couldn’t wield magic himself, he would borrow power from another source.

    Dark Magic.

    Entities from beyond this world had long sought to interfere with Damarat Yurmuth. While they couldn’t directly break its causal laws, certain individuals within the world could reach out, communicate with them, and even form contracts.

    In this regard, Ethan was fortunate.

    The Charasen family was renowned for contract magic, and thanks to his lineage, he had the opportunity to secretly research and study spells that allowed communication with otherworldly beings.

    ‘There’s just one small issue.’

    Dark magic was forbidden.

    It corrupted those who practiced it.

    The entities that lent their power only did so to extend their influence and ultimately seize control of this world. Throughout history, many dark mages had become threats to the world itself.

    At the “Oath of the Empty Throne,” a council attended by all the kings of Damarat, dark mages had been officially declared enemies of the world.

    ‘But if a failing magic student can become a world-threatening mage… isn’t that actually impressive?’

    For the entire semester, Ethan had scoured for the materials and tools necessary for contract magic.

    When he lacked money, he ran errands for thugs in the back alleys, even collecting debts for loan sharks.

    Fortunately, his efforts paid off, and he managed to complete his preparations just before the final Basic Magic Practice exam.

    ‘Now, the only question is… what catalyst should I use for the summoning?’

    In this type of contract magic, the catalyst determined the summoned entity. It could be a relic left behind by a summoned being, an idol once worshipped, or even the bloodline of a dark mage.

    Naturally, such catalysts were tightly controlled due to their connection to forbidden magic. If an ordinary magic student like Ethan were caught with one, he wouldn’t just have it confiscated—he’d be severely punished.

    ‘That is… if I get caught.’

    In Ethan’s hand was the very medium he had acquired.

    At a glance, it looked like a gray stone fragment, but embedded within it was a thin, rod-like piece of metal in a bizarre fashion. Ethan had never seen a design like this before.

    To obtain this object, he had to spend nearly all of his remaining money. He had it assessed once, confirming that it could indeed serve as a medium for dark magic.

    ‘But I have no idea what I’ll be contracting with.’

    To find that out, he would need a second evaluation from a high-ranking mage—something he couldn’t afford. But Ethan didn’t particularly care. As long as he could form a contract with an otherworldly entity, it didn’t matter what kind of being it was.

    Locking his door, he began preparing the ritual in his room, contemplating what kind of entities he might summon.

    ‘Could it be the Dark God, Yorr?’

    Yorr was the most infamous invader associated with dark magic and black mages. A foreign god of conspiracy, betrayal, and deception, he was better known by the alias “Dark God.” In some regions, black magic was nearly synonymous with Yorr’s name.

    ‘Or maybe the Tentacle God, Musamusa?’

    Two thousand years ago, Musamusa nearly drove the world to its end. Though it had not been summoned since, that single event had been enough to make it one of the most feared outer gods.

    ‘Perhaps the Exiled Dragon, Loranquerio?’

    Loranquerio was an ancient dragon from over five thousand years ago, once native to Damarat-Yurmuth. In pursuit of power, it had turned tyrannical, prompting kings, mages, and adventurers to unite and banish it from the world. However, beyond the distant seas, some tribes still worshipped it and sought to summon it back.

    By the morning of the exam, Ethan had finally completed his preparations.

    Placing the medium at the center of a magic circle drawn in chalk, he began chanting in the ancient tongue. The spell’s words, which changed with the movements of the stars and the tremors of the earth, had to be uttered with perfect rhythm and tone.

    Fortunately, Ethan had a knack for such things.

    A bright white light surged from the magic circle.

    ‘It worked.’

    Ethan was both elated and disappointed.

    If he could merely demonstrate his ability to successfully perform this contract magic, he might be acknowledged as a mage. But in doing so, he would inevitably be labelled a Dark mage and dragged into an underground prison.

    In the end, to be recognized, he needed power—power so overwhelming that no one could dismiss him.

    <World analysis. E2912. Damarat-Yurmuth.>

    A monotonous, cold voice resounded in his head.

    <User analysis. Ethan Dora Charasen. Mage. Level 1.>

    This was an entity Ethan had not anticipated at all. But the fact that it knew his name even before introducing itself proved it was no ordinary being.

    “Who are you?”

    <Pleased to meet you, Ethan. I am from Terra, and I was once called Demi in this world.>

    “Demi of Terra?”

    <Yes.>

    At least it wasn’t an unknown invader.

    Ethan recognized the name.

    Just twenty years ago, a dimensional gate had opened in the northern reaches of the Empire, unleashing armoured mechanical constructs. The Empire suffered devastating losses before barely managing to close the gate. That gate had connected to a world called Terra, and the machines were known to have been controlled by an entity called Demi.

    “…Are you the Machine God, Demi?”

    <Yes.>

    Demi spoke again.

    <Would you like to form a contract with me?>

    Ethan, who had never imagined setting foot in Imperial lands, nodded.

    “What’s the price?”

    <There is none.>

    “That’s impossible. What do you want from me?”

    <Survival.>

    The offer seemed too good to be true.

    Ethan had been prepared to sacrifice an eye or an arm if necessary.

    ‘Besides, the greater the price, the greater the power.’

    He hesitated before asking his next question.

    “If I survive, what will you give me?”

    Demi answered.

    <Power.>

    “Be specific.”

    <Overwhelming power.>

    From within the magic circle, something was ejected.

    Ethan swiftly caught it in his hand.

    It was a bent metal rod, small enough to grip with one hand.

    <“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” That was said by Arthur Clarke.>

    Ethan stared at the object in his grasp.

    “What is this?”

    Demi replied.

    <A Glock 45. A handgun.>

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 88

    Another month had passed since the news spread that Nemeapatre was ablaze, the Janissaries who had threatened the prince had been defeated, and the prince himself had fallen in battle, unable to withstand the assault.

    During this time, supplies, including food, were transported by the relatively intact coastal fleets of Asia Minor, which had survived the recent naval battle against Venice. Naturally, this made a certain presence impossible to ignore—like a thorn lodged in the throat—due to its strategic significance in maritime transportation. With a map of Rumelia (the Balkans) spread out before him, Murad openly displayed his displeasure.

    “Thessalonica. Even in this state, it refuses to move.”

    To Christians, it might have held some significance, but to the Muslim Murad, there was only one reason to focus on Thessalonica: it was the second most crucial strategic point for controlling the Aegean Sea, after Gallipoli.

    Situated precisely in the western midsection of the Aegean, Thessalonica functioned as the empire’s second-largest trading hub after Constantinople, capitalizing on its geographical advantage. Even the weak-willed Mehmed had imposed tributes from Thessalonica to pressure it, making further explanation unnecessary.

    Naturally, this also made it a point of contention between the Ottomans and Venice.

    The Ottomans sought to develop a navy to challenge for supremacy over the Aegean, while Venice was desperate to maintain its dominance and expand its colonies. Thessalonica, where neither side had yet gained an overwhelming upper hand, had become a disputed territory.

    This was why Murad viewed his current campaign as an opportunity to bring Thessalonica into his grasp. He believed that if the empire or Morea were in crisis, Thessalonica, which had always remained isolated, would finally be forced to act.

    Was it foolishness, or had it simply seen through his intentions?

    Either way, the ruler of Thessalonica did not move as Murad had expected. Even as the empire crumbled, Morea was shattered, and even upon hearing that his own brother had perished in battle. Unexpectedly, the same was true for Epirus, a puppet state supposedly established by the prince. Though Murad had not encountered them at Nemeapatre, his forces had clashed with the prince’s troops multiple times, allowing him to grasp the true composition of their army.

    It was purely Morea’s forces—nothing else. The prince had not even reached out to his puppet state, Epirus. After some contemplation, Murad arrived at a single conclusion. If his thoughts were correct, then the prince had truly made a desperate sacrifice, holding on to a sliver of possibility in the bleakest of circumstances.

    “So all of these strategies and resistance were merely a move to conceal his final strength.”

    The war was beginning to show signs of dragging on far longer than Murad had anticipated. Though the prince was dead, his followers still remained, and to achieve his original goal, Morea had to be utterly destroyed.

    If the remnants of Morea’s forces managed to retreat into the fortresses the prince had prepared in advance, the attrition would only grow worse. The moment they crossed the Isthmus of Corinth, Murad’s original objective would become unattainable.

    Meanwhile, as he was forced into prolonged and inefficient warfare, the strength Morea had stockpiled would inevitably shift to Epirus. In the end, Morea would be reduced to ashes, but the empire would merely replace it with Epirus, allowing the cycle of tiresome resistance to continue. Even if Murad wanted to turn his forces against Epirus immediately, the political landscape of the Balkans made it impossible—because of Venice.

    The Ottomans and Venice had already clashed once over Durazzo. If the Ottomans were to seize control of Epirus now, it would undoubtedly raise Venice’s suspicions. In an extreme scenario, Venice might even impose a complete naval blockade on the Ottomans.

    Given that the Ottoman fleet had yet to fully recover from its previous defeat, provoking Venice any further was unwise. But the most chilling realization was what these facts implied.

    It was proof that the Constantine had foreseen all of this—that one day, the Ottoman sultan would reach this exact conclusion.

    “Marvelous. Simply marvelous.”

    He had intended to intercept the prince at his leisure and he had even succeeded in drawing him out of Morea—only to ultimately move in accordance with the prince’s designs. The battle had returned to square one.

    The moment Morea’s remnants succeeded in escaping through the Isthmus of Corinth via Athens, a series of grueling sieges would inevitably follow. To prevent this, Murad now needed to pursue them with all possible speed.

    As these thoughts settled, a hollow laugh escaped him. So even this prince, after all, had succumbed to fate? Fate and trials favour heroes. Those beloved by fate do not die easily. They may be bent and broken countless times, yet they rise again. In that moment, Murad heard fate’s whisper.

    —The prince is alive.

    Logically speaking, it was an absurdly slim possibility. Reports had stated that he had acted as bait, suffered through a chaotic battle where his guard was annihilated, and then fallen while commanding against a sudden assault. Even if he had survived, he was likely clinging to his last breath. And yet, Murad was certain—the prince, somewhere, was leading his forces and devising a plan to defeat the Ottomans, to defeat him.

    While contemplating what that plan might be, new figures entered Murad’s office. They were his loyal retainers.

    “Sultan, the army from Edirne has arrived.”

    “I see… Have you considered what I told you?”

    “It was deemed safe, and we implemented it immediately. Preparations are already underway across all of Rumelia to act according to your will, and what is needed for this campaign is being readied as we speak.”

    At those words, the sultan smiled quietly. A prince clinging to a fading era and himself, striving to bring in a new one—what could be more fitting as a symbol of this struggle? Slowly, Murad turned south, recalling the vow he had once made in this very place. He had granted a brief relief, allowing his enemy to savour it.

    “Your despair is nothing more than the tide of history.”

    And he would stand at the forefront of that tide, pursuing the last hope the prince had left behind. Nothing in war is ever certain. Yet at this moment, one truth was undeniable.

    The relief was over.

  • I Am the Only Tower Master Chapter 5

    Hm, hm.

    I overdid it a little.

    At first, I planned to keep it moderate and just leave, but the guys whispering behind my back, irritating me on purpose, got on my nerves. More than anything, once I started, it was fun, and I wanted to push myself to the limit.

    On top of my new innate ability, Sage’s Eye, the training I had been doing—moving mana to create magic circles—seemed to have paid off.

    I returned to my seat and slung my bag over my shoulder.

    “…….”
    “…….”

    Honestly, my image at this school was nothing more than a loud-mouthed, non-combat weakling.

    But now, the gazes of my classmates had completely changed—180 degrees, in fact.

    Every single one of them had the same expression: What the hell is that?

    When I turned my head slightly, they flinched and quickly looked away.

    Huh. I guess a day like this was bound to come eventually.

    “Hey! Kim Yushin!”

    A brown-haired girl rushed toward me noisily, her face filled with shock.

    “Are you really Kim Yushin?”

    …What’s with this girl now?

    “You ignored my texts for three days straight, didn’t answer my calls, and now you show up like this…! What the hell happened to you?”

    Oh, right. She was the one who sent me those messages.

    Her name was Han Yoon-jung. Since she also had a non-combat innate ability, we had bonded over our shared struggle as weaklings.

    “I had my reasons. I’ll explain outside.”

    At that moment, the students who had been watching us suddenly swarmed toward me.

    “Hey, move aside! Yushin, about that technique you used earlier—”

    “I saw it again. How did you do it?”

    “Can’t you teach us too?”

    “We’re heading out for lunch by car. Wanna come?”

    With people coming at me from all directions, Han Yoon-jung was quickly pushed to the background.

    …Do these guys have no shame?

    The same people who looked down on me all this time were now flocking around, hoping for scraps.

    Not that I hated it.

    So this is what power feels like.

    After a lifetime of chewing on bitter grass, the sudden taste of sweetness on my tongue was a bit overwhelming.

    Anyway, I told the buzzing flies that we’d talk later and slipped away from the crowd.

    I called Han Yoon-jung out to a quiet café on campus, and we sat across from each other.

    “…Your innate ability changed?”

    “Yeah.”

    I removed the lens from my right eye. When she saw my pupil shimmering with blue light, she gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.

    “Wh-what? It’s real? What kind of ability is it?”

    “Simply put…”

    I raised my palm and formed a shield magic circle above it.

    “I can create things like this with ease.”

    “…Wow!”

    Han Yoon jung’s eyes widened as she examined the magic circle from different angles. Her reaction was amusing, so I showed her two more spells.

    As she chattered in excitement, her expression suddenly turned bittersweet.

    “You once said mana is like a flashlight, and innate abilities are the lens. A good lens lets you create things like this with mana, huh…”

    Not quite.

    I wasn’t convinced by that theory.

    It had only been a day since I became a mage, so I couldn’t be sure yet, but I had a hunch—magic was separate from innate abilities.

    A skill that anyone could use, as long as they had mana.

    A technique that didn’t depend on innate abilities and could be improved through effort.

    If the true nature of this power were revealed, wouldn’t the entire hunter world be turned upside down?

    “What’s with that serious look?”

    “Nothing. Just thinking.”

    Shaking off my thoughts, I looked up—only to be startled.

    Name: Han Yoon jung
    Innate Ability: Coordinate Tracking
    Personal Traits: [Precision Calculation Lv.3] [Collector Lv.1]
    Base Stats: [Mana 16] [Stamina 10] [Agility 6] [Strength 4]
    Special Stats: [Intelligence 5] [Endurance 5]
    Total Stats: [46]

    …I could see someone else’s status window.

    I assumed my detection ability had vanished when my innate ability changed, but I was still able to see it. An unexpected bonus…

    “Hey, Kim Yushin.”

    Han Yoon-jung suddenly crossed her arms over her chest, her expression frosty.

    “Where exactly are you looking?”

    “Your status window.”

    “You just said your ability changed! You perverted piece of trash!”

    …But I’m serious.

    She glared at me in disgust, then let out a deep sigh and chugged her coffee.

    “Anyway, congrats. If you improve your grades, you can finally go on dungeon expeditions.”

    “I’m planning to graduate this month.”

    “…Huh?”

    She frowned as if she had misheard.

    “Wait. You’re not saying—”

    “Yeah. I’m taking the early graduation exam.”

    “Hey! Kim Yushin!”

    She shot up from her seat.

    “Do you even know what kind of test that is—”

    Murmurs.

    Before she could finish, the café suddenly grew noisy.

    People were hastily gathering their belongings and hurrying out.

    Han Yoon jung checked her wristwatch and gasped.

    “Ah, I’m late! We’ll talk later! And don’t do anything reckless, okay? Promise me!”

    With that, she rushed off to prepare for her next class.

    Left alone, I headed to the student council office.

    I took a form and began filling it out.

    The early graduation exam application.

    I felt a little bad for Han Yoon jung, but staying here for another two years was a waste.

    I would graduate this month and get my hunter license.

    Once I finished writing, I stepped into the student council office to submit the form. Since it was lunchtime, the room was empty except for a young-looking girl.

    “H-hello! This is the student council! How can I help you?”

    A first-year, huh? Guess she got stuck with the short end of the stick.

    I felt a slight sense of sympathy as I handed over the document.

    “Is this the right place to submit it?”

    She took my document and, upon reading it, looked utterly shocked. Then, she glanced back and forth between the document and my face.

    “Is there a problem?”

    She flinched and turned red.

    “Oh! S-sorry! This is a request for early graduation, right? I’ll let the administrative assistant know when they arrive.”

    Her reaction was understandable.

    Seeing the words ‘2nd year,’ ‘non-combatant,’ and the fact that my total physical attributes, excluding mana, didn’t even reach 20—anyone would think I was insane for applying for the early graduation exam.

    She must be wondering if I’m out of my mind.

    “Well, I’ll leave it in your hands.”

    Of course, I had no reason to care about others’ opinions.

    Right now, my confidence was at its peak.

    I returned to the Mage Tower.

    The dazzling golden lobby on the first floor and the various experimental equipment still felt surreal.

    While magical research was important, I first needed to understand exactly what this place was for.

    Now that I thought about it, I had been too focused on magic circles without considering the bigger picture.

    “Eia.”

    At my call, a swirl of light gathered in the air, soon forming into the figure of a beautiful silver-haired woman.

    “You summoned me, Tower Master?”

    “Tell me more about this Mage Tower.”

    She let out a small sigh.

    “You finally ask.”

    “…I know I got my priorities mixed up.”

    I tend to get completely absorbed in something once I dive in.

    Before diving deeper into magic research, I figured it was time to learn more about this place.

    “I have no personal memories, but based on the recorded data, I can explain. As I mentioned in the initial introduction, the Mage Tower was the central governing body for magic on the continent of Erendel.”

    “The continent of Erendel, huh?”

    The core of the Overlay phenomenon—where monsters from another world began appearing—was that Earth had overlapped with some other dimension.

    Could that other world be this “Erendel Continent”?

    “The Mage Tower’s influence once spanned the entire continent, including empires and kingdoms. Even an emperor would not dare to defy the Tower Master. Magic was the foundation of economy, military power, and culture itself.”

    “Hmm.”

    “The Mage Tower was both the birthplace and cradle of magic. Countless spells and magitech advancements originated here and evolved into different forms over time.”

    “So, all of that knowledge still exists within this tower?”

    “Correct. While I cannot guarantee a perfect recreation of Erendel’s magic on Earth due to differences in mana properties, a significant portion should still be possible. In fact, the fact that you successfully reproduced the three fundamental magic circles is already a promising achievement.”

    Heh. No need to flatter me—I don’t give out rewards for that.

    “So, what was this first floor used for?” I asked, glancing at the tangled tubes and experimental tools.

    “The first floor primarily served as a potion-making facility.”

    “Potions?”

    This is starting to feel more and more like a game.

    Though, given that mana, superhumans, and mages already exist, it’s not that strange for potions to be real too.

    But the real question was this—

    How valuable would potions be?

    As of now, Earth had nothing like a magic liquid that healed wounds when consumed.

    There were a few ‘healers’ with recovery-type abilities, but they were extremely rare.

    Most players only carried emergency medical kits, and larger guilds typically employed professional medical teams.

    Only the most powerful guilds had healers among their ranks.

    Now, if I started selling potions in this situation?

    ‘It would be an instant jackpot.’

    Just imagining the money rolling in made me grin.

    Plans for how to monetize potions were already forming in my mind.

    I even thought of the perfect person to handle the business side of things.

    But I decided to put that aside for now.

    Today’s priority was learning more about this Mage Tower.

    “Now that I think about it, this place is structured like a tower. If the first floor is for potion-making… does each floor have a different purpose?”

    “As expected of the Tower Master. That is a correct deduction. Each floor of the Mage Tower serves a distinct function.”

    That made my eyes light up.

    With a total of nine floors—including the top floor where the Tower Master resides—that meant there were eight other magical technologies waiting to be uncovered.

    Just the potion-making alone could earn me enough to last generations.

    So what kind of treasure trove did the other floors hold?

    “What about the second and third floors? What are they used for?”

    “I do not know.”

    “…You don’t know? But aren’t you the homunculus that manages the entire tower?”

    “The floors above the first are currently sealed. My data and management functions for those areas are also restricted.”

    Sealed?

    I thought all the tower’s restrictions were lifted when I became the Tower Master.

    “Please allow me a moment.”

    Eia placed her hand lightly on my forehead, and a new screen appeared before my eyes.

    〈Mage Tower of Erendel〉

    • Lord: Kim Yushin
    • Development Level: Low
    • Total Personnel: 1
    • Stored Mana: 7,550,000

    1st Floor: Potion Brewing Department / [Potion Brewer: None] – Assign a position.
    2nd Floor: ???
    3rd Floor: ???
    4th Floor: ???
    5th Floor: ???
    6th Floor: ???
    7th Floor: ???
    8th Floor: ???
    9th Floor: Tower Master’s Chamber / [Tower Master: Kim Yushin]

    〈Territory Unique Abilities〉

    • Mana Engine: A perpetual mana generator keeps the tower’s mana supply stable.
    • Shape Memory Alloy: The walls of the Mage Tower are made of a special alloy that returns to its original form over time, even after sustaining heavy damage.
    • Natural Regeneration: All inhabitants of the Mage Tower receive enhanced stamina and mana regeneration while inside.

    “This isn’t a status window, is it?”

    “It’s something similar. It’s a management interface that provides an overview of the Mage Tower’s status.”

    “Ohh. That’s interesting.”

    I examined the interface.

    Just as Eia said, the second through eighth floors were all marked as “???”.

    “Then how do I unlock the seals on the other floors?”

    “Rather than hearing an explanation from me, it would be better to check  the Mage Tower’s records. Let us go to the ninth floor.”

    Eia and I moved to the Tower Master’s chamber.

    I used the magic circle elevator to ascend, while she appeared in a swirl of light.

    She guided me toward the bookshelves—the same ones where I had found The Fundamentals of Magic.

    I browsed through the books, then came across something unusual.

    It wasn’t a book but an old, worn notebook.

    It looked more like… someone’s journal.

  • A Veteran Player Becomes a Troublemaker Chapter 14

    “It’s best to let him learn horsemanship slowly on the way.”

    “Yes, I was planning to do that anyway.”

    In truth, it would be more accurate to say that the horse was carrying him rather than him riding it.

    Going into battle in that state?

    ‘It’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t fall off.’

    The image of him struggling to hold on to a galloping horse was already forming in Ian’s mind.

    Even if he brought Dwayne along, he’d likely only be useful as a guide.

    Still, it was reassuring to have someone who knew the terrain well by his side.

    “Is that all about Dwayne?”

    “Thanks to his past as a hunter, his patience and perseverance are something even other knights could learn from.”

    It meant that even Oswell acknowledged his mental fortitude.

    “And though I’ve only heard it from him, he claims to be confident in his archery. He says he can even hit a flying bird.”

    Ian chuckled.

    ‘Still full of bravado, I see.’

    Back when he was a soldier, he boasted about taking down five orcs and whatnot.

    ‘Well, knights are a proud bunch, so maybe he’ll fit right in.’

    Oswell seemed to share Ian’s thoughts, smiling faintly beside him.

    “Of course, as you know, Young Lord, the total capacity of his mana vessel and how well he handles aura could completely change his current evaluation.”

    Mana vessel—essentially, his MP pool.

    The larger the MP pool, the longer he can fight and the more he can enhance himself.

    Mages expel mana to wield supernatural powers.

    Knights, on the other hand, keep mana within their bodies to strengthen themselves or their weapons.

    Even among knights of equal skill, the size of their MP pool can determine the outcome of a battle.

    Swordsmanship, spearmanship, and horsemanship can be learned through training, so they’re not major concerns.

    “Well, that’s true.”

    Since there was no way to know for now, Ian decided to wait and see.

    Arrival at Vilcen

    “Welcome, Young Lord. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Vilcen.”

    After two days of marching, Ian arrived at Vilcen with his hundred-strong force.

    The village’s defense captain and a group of about thirty soldiers greeted them at the entrance.

    “Is this all the troops you have?”

    “Yes, that’s correct.”

    Ian surveyed the village.

    A village fortified with a ditch and wooden walls.

    Located close to the untamed lands, it was frequently attacked by monsters, hence the defenses.

    Ian looked inside the village.

    He could still see villagers moving about.

    “Have the villagers not evacuated yet?”

    The defense captain sighed deeply.

    “We told them to evacuate, but they wouldn’t listen. We even told them about the number of monsters advancing, but they refuse to give up their home to mere monsters.”

    It seemed they wanted to contribute to defending the place where they were born, raised, and planned to live.

    Now that he looked closely, everyone was carrying something that could serve as a weapon.

    Axes, sickles, clubs, long wooden sticks—even women had bows slung over their backs.

    Children around ten years old were gathering stones in one place.

    ‘They’re dependable.’

    Most of them had experience fighting monsters.

    Vilcen was a village that, like it or not, had to live close to monsters.

    ‘Among players, it’s rumored to be the village of the strong, even within Schrantz, where only the strong survive.’

    Even a ten-year-old kid would be a big help.

    “Then let’s defend it together. How many villagers are left?”

    “About 130.”

    Including Ian, the troops he brought numbered 107, the village defense force 30, and the villagers 130.

    ‘Total of 267. Still outnumbered.’

    But each of them would pull their weight.

    Ian turned to Oswell.

    “Do we have enough supplies to arm them?”

    “I thought the villagers might need them, so I brought as much as I could. We can arm more than half. We also have enough food to last about a month, including the villagers.”

    “Good. Then let’s start distributing supplies to them immediately.”

    “Yes, I’ll relay your orders, Young Lord.”

    “Young Lord, please follow me.”

    After that, Ian followed the defense captain into the village.

    Inside the Village

    The village was bustling with activity.

    Despite the looming threat, the villagers were preparing for battle with determination.

    Ian couldn’t help but feel a sense of respect for their resilience.

    “This is the central command post,” the defense captain said, leading Ian to a sturdy wooden building.

    Inside, a map of the village and its surroundings was spread out on a table.

    “We’ve set up defenses here, here, and here,” the captain pointed out. “But with the numbers we’re facing, it’s going to be tough.”

    Ian studied the map carefully.

    “We’ll need to reinforce these areas,” he said, pointing to the weakest points. “And set up traps here and here to slow them down.”

    The captain nodded, impressed by Ian’s quick assessment.

    “We’ll get to work right away.”

    As Ian stepped outside, he saw the villagers arming themselves and preparing for the battle ahead.

    Despite the grim situation, there was a sense of unity and determination.

    ‘We’ll hold the line,’ Ian thought, his resolve firm.

    The battle for Vilcen was about to begin.

    “Young Lord, what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

    Those were Oswell’s first words upon seeing Ian, who had gone straight to the command center after checking his temporary quarters.

    Oswell looked surprised that Ian had come here.

    ‘I’d like to rest too.’

    Staying on a swaying horse for a long time is more exhausting than one might think.

    ‘But what can I do? I’m exhausted, but there’s no time to waste.’

    That’s why he had come straight to the command center.

    “Am I not allowed to be here?”

    “That’s not it, but…”

    “Then there’s no problem.”

    After Ian’s response, Oswell gave up his seat and moved to the defense captain’s position.

    The defense captain was pushed further back.

    Ian asked the defense captain, “Where do you expect the monsters to advance, and how is the village defended?”

    “We were just about to discuss that.”

    “Perfect timing. Glad I didn’t cause any unnecessary trouble.”

    Ian listened carefully to the explanation, looking at the map on the table.

    “So, there’s only one path from the untamed lands to this village, and we’ll defend from the top of this mountain. If we’re pushed back, we retreat to the village and defend there. Did I understand correctly?”

    “Yes, that’s right.”

    Ian sighed inwardly, and Oswell remained silent.

    ‘Is this really the plan?’

    The enemies are coming. We’ll stop them. If they break through, we retreat and defend the village.

    It was the simplest defense plan imaginable.

    “Will this work?”

    “Yes, I think it’s sufficient.”

    “What about the possibility of them flanking us?”

    “Our enemies are monsters, not humans. They wouldn’t do that.”

    The defense captain seemed to have unwavering faith in his plan.

    ‘He’s underestimating the monsters too much.’

    The complacency of the plan was glaringly obvious.

    “We need to revise the defense plan. We should station some troops elsewhere to block any flanking attempts.”

    “What? Wouldn’t it be harder to defend if we split our forces when we’re already struggling to concentrate them?”

    The defense captain looked at Ian with a face full of doubt.

    ‘He doesn’t trust me.’

    It was similar to the look Jurdan had given him back at the lord’s estate, though without the disgust.

    ‘Well, all they know about me is from the rumors.’

    His combat prowess during the monster hunt was well-known, given the chaos he caused.

    But no one had ever seen him command or devise tactics.

    ‘Because I never did.’

    All he did was charge in alone, fire arrows, and disrupt formations with mounted charges.

    Oswell handled the rest of the command.

    The troublemaker young lord, reckless and prone to causing trouble, but undeniably strong in combat.

    That was Ian’s reputation in the territory.

    ‘And maybe they think the old way is safe because they’ve only dealt with small-scale attacks.’

    That was probably it.

    They’d never been flanked before.

    But this time, the numbers were on a completely different scale.

    “What do you think, Sir Oswell?”

    “Huh?”

    Oswell looked momentarily surprised, then shared his thoughts.

    “It might work against small numbers, but against a force like this, it’s impossible. I also think we need to make improvements.”

    “I see. Let me discuss this further with Sir Oswell.”

    “…Understood.”

    He said he understood, but his expression was far from convinced.

    Ian could have explained everything in detail, but he didn’t want to waste time.

    Every second was precious.

    And more importantly.

    ‘Why should I go through the trouble?’

    He could just give orders.

    No matter how the villagers viewed Ian.

    He was the one with full authority over the village’s defense, acting on behalf of Hugo.

    “Alright, Sir Oswell. Let’s improve the current plan. I’ll share my thoughts, and if there’s anything lacking or unsatisfactory, please speak up.”

    “Yes, Young Lord.”

    As Oswell smiled warmly, Ian tilted his head.

    ‘Why is he like this?’

    His gaze reminded Ian of how Hugo looked at him.

    ‘It’s a bit overwhelming… Ah, well. He’s been by the count’s side for a long time, so he must have picked it up. I’ll just ignore it.’

    Meanwhile.

    ‘To see the young lord grow like this… He’s finally fulfilling his role.’

    Oswell, who had watched Ian since birth, was moved by the sight of him now, reminiscent of his lord in his younger days.

    Ten Days Later

    Ten days had passed since Ian arrived in Vilcen.

    He was now at the forefront, on the mountain bordering the untamed lands and the Schrantz territory.

    Scouts had reported that the monsters were approaching.

    The plan was to buy time and inflict damage here first.

    Oswell had offered to go instead, but Ian’s stubbornness couldn’t be swayed.

    Of course, it wasn’t out of some noble sense of duty.

    ‘I can’t miss out on the experience points based on contribution!’

    The massive amount of experience points from completing the quest. How could he give that up?

    ‘But what exactly is the reward?’

    The quest reward mentioned experience points based on contribution, as well as “rewards” based on contribution.

    Ian was curious about that.

    ‘I’ll probably only receive it after returning to the lord’s estate…’

    “Young Lord, the Greenskins are approaching!”

    At a knight’s shout, Ian’s gaze naturally followed the direction of the pointing finger.

    “They’ve come in such an annoyingly large number.”

    Standing on the watchtower atop the mountain, Ian calmly remarked as he observed the approaching Greenskins.

    Having faced armies of over a hundred thousand in large-scale battles, Ian wasn’t intimidated by their numbers.

    ‘…Even so, the fact that we’re overwhelmingly outnumbered doesn’t change. Holding out here for days is impossible.’

    The steep terrain and narrow paths were advantageous, but the enemy’s numbers were still a problem.

    If they came crashing in like a tidal wave, they’d break through eventually.

    “Are we really supposed to hold out against that many?”

    “Is it even possible?”

    The soldiers’ expressions weren’t great either.

    Even those who had been joking around earlier changed their faces upon seeing the reality.

    Facing the sight of the approaching horde, they couldn’t bring themselves to make light of the situation.

    The difference between hearing about it and seeing it with your own eyes was indescribable.

  • A doomsday-level returnee devours calamities Chapter 32

    Lightning-fast strikes rained down, and sweat poured from Haeyoung’s body like a heavy downpour.

    “Haa… Haa…”

    Her breathing was ragged.

    Whether it was the tension or something else, her body felt much heavier than usual.

    Despite her diligent physical training, had she put too much force into her movements?

    As time passed, heat surged through her body.

    ‘She’s too fast!’

    Her opponent’s speed far exceeded her expectations.

    She wasn’t overwhelmingly outmatched in terms of strength.
    However, in every other aspect, the difference in skill was glaringly obvious.

    The most significant gap was speed.

    Just keeping up with her opponent’s movements visually was exhausting, forcing her into a defensive stance.

    Even as Miyuki unleashed strikes fast enough to make Haeyoung’s tongue click in disbelief, her expression remained utterly unchanged.

    “……”

    At a glance, her swordsmanship seemed simple and monotonous.

    Yet, upon closer observation, it became clear that there wasn’t a single wasted motion.

    Her style was designed solely for one purpose—to kill her opponent.

    Her blade, embodying a restrained elegance, was sharper than any beast’s fangs.

    ‘…I can’t just keep defending like this.’

    Not even five minutes had passed since the duel began, yet Haeyoung’s body was already riddled with small wounds.

    None were serious enough to hinder her movements, but at this rate, she wouldn’t even be able to put up a proper fight before losing.

    ‘Get it together.’

    She was shrinking back more than usual.

    There were many reasons for it, but the biggest factor was a drop in confidence.

    Lately, she had been facing opponents far stronger than herself.

    And with the arrival of Taeseong, an absolute anomaly, she had been forced to confront just how weak she truly was.

    She understood that Taeseong was a special existence beyond common sense.

    But that didn’t make her any stronger.

    A sense of helplessness had taken root within her, slowly corroding her spirit.

    The greatest strengths she possessed—her energy and determination—were no longer functioning properly.

    The truth was, Haeyoung was much stronger than she thought.

    Her past experiences had nurtured her growth, allowing her to accomplish far more than she realized.

    She was the only one who didn’t see it.

    “It’s about time to finish this.”

    Miyuki retrieved her blade and swiftly formed a series of hand signs.

    In an instant, afterimages of her figure solidified, splitting into five.

    The two managers observing from the room exchanged glances, as if there was no longer any point in watching.

    “It’s over.”

    “I don’t think she even needed to use ninjutsu to win.”

    Lee Eunha, who had belatedly recognized something, muttered.

    “…No wonder her name sounded familiar. That manager must be from the Iga ninja clan.”

    “Oh? You’ve got a sharp eye, miss.”

    Ignoring the remark, Eunha turned to Taeseong and Gi-jun.

    “She’s using ninjutsu… and that sword. It’s one of the legendary blades wielded by the Iga clan’s head. I thought the Iga clan was nearly extinct… but it seems they still have successors.”

    Yoo Gi-jun, clearly impressed, asked,

    “…How do you even know all this, Deputy?”

    “Oh, just… I picked it up somewhere.”

    The truth was, Lee Eunha had an insatiable intellectual curiosity.

    She prided herself on being well-versed in all sorts of knowledge.

    If there was anyone in the organization who could match her in that regard, it would probably be Choi Harin, the head of the intelligence division.

    But at this point, nothing surprised her anymore.

    Reincarnators, returnees, spirits, and psychics all existed in this world—what was a ninja compared to that?

    What frustrated her, however, was something else.

    Taeseong knew Haeyoung’s combat abilities better than anyone.

    That’s why he had given her advice.

    Had that advice become a hindrance instead?

    She was performing worse than usual.

    ‘Believe in yourself, Oh Haeyoung.’

    Miyuki’s five duplicates all looked identical to the original.

    [You fool! How long do you plan to stay on the defensive?! Haven’t I told you time and time again?! Don’t waste time trying to compensate for your weaknesses—focus on maximizing your strengths! Your strength and recovery ability are your greatest assets!]

    Yeah.

    If I let this end like this, I won’t be able to grow any further.

    I need to become stronger.

    —Fine. If you lose, you’ll learn something from it. If you win, you’ll gain something from that as well. Use that as fuel to move forward, and eventually, you’ll see the path ahead.

    ‘For the sake of achieving my goal.’

    Haeyoung recalled Taeseong’s advice and the reason she had joined the Tree organization as a manager.

    She made her decision.

    ‘Grandfather.’

    [What is it?]

    ‘Lend me your strength.’

    [So, you’ve finally made up your mind.]

    ‘Just 10%.’

    [You still don’t trust me?]

    There was nothing to lose by going all out here.

    After all, she was just an Epsilon, while her opponent was a Delta.
    If the result was already decided, she might as well throw everything she had at it.

    “Alright, screw it—let’s go all in!”

    Divine Descent (降神).

    Her rank temporarily rose to Delta.

    The evolving artifact, Ragnar Lothbrok’s Pendant, radiated a blinding light.

    “……!”

    Even with just 10% of its power, an explosive force surged from her core.

    A sensation of joy dominated her entire being.

    ‘Now I understand why Grandmother warned me about this.’

    Haeyoung charged toward the clones, swinging her axe left and right.

    Despite the sudden shift in momentum, Miyuki remained composed and countered each attack calmly.

    Her movements were as light as a feather.

    But with each swing of Haeyoung’s axe, fresh wounds appeared on Miyuki’s body.

    Slice!

    Her shoulder was cut.

    Slice!

    Her side was slashed.

    Slice!

    Her nape was grazed, yet she pressed on with relentless determination.

    In fact, the more wounds she sustained, the fiercer her attacks became.

    ‘Just one hit! I just need to land one clean hit!’

    It was reckless, brute-force combat.

    Yet, as time passed, it was Miyuki who began to falter.

    For the first time, her previously unreadable expression twisted with unease.

    ‘Was she hiding her true strength all along?’

    They say offense is the best defense.

    Now that Haeyoung had turned aggressive, her strengths were finally shining through.

    Miyuki’s combat style was precise.

    She relied on speed and accuracy, targeting vital points while whittling down opponents with ninjutsu and hidden weapons.

    But that also meant each of her individual strikes lacked overwhelming force.

    Haeyoung, on the other hand, charged forward with unrelenting ferocity, swinging her axe with bloodshot eyes.

    Her roar echoed through the training hall.

    “Uwaaaaaahhh!”

    Her appearance, so frenzied that it made one doubt whether she was truly the same person as before, was that of a berserker.

    ‘Has she lost her reason?’

    Miyuki tried to maintain her composure as she persistently aimed for vital points.

    Yet, even in her frenzied state, her instincts seemed sharper than ever, as she evaded lethal strikes while taking most attacks head-on.

    Meat for bones.

    Simply put, she was sacrificing flesh to claim the opponent’s bones.

    Every time her axe sliced through the air, the piercing sound it produced was enough to make Miyuki sense the looming danger.

    ‘If I take even one clean hit, I’ll be the one finished instead.

    To think an Epsilon-ranked opponent possesses this level of combat ability…’

    Haeyoung, her body looking as if it had been submerged in a pool of blood, grinned at Miyuki.

    “……?”

    A moment later.

    Miyuki realized the meaning behind that grin.

    In the midst of fending off Haeyoung’s relentless assault, she had unknowingly backed herself into a dead end.

    The moment she belatedly grasped the situation and attempted to scale the wall to reposition herself—

    Boom!

    Haeyoung swung her axe down, striking the ground.

    Fragments of the shattered floor shot up, blocking Miyuki’s escape route.

    Had she been her usual self, she would have calmly handled the situation.

    But in her current state, she was psychologically shaken.

    From the very beginning, as a Delta-ranked warrior, the thought of losing to a mere Epsilon-ranked opponent like Oh Haeyoung had never crossed her mind.

    She had been so certain of victory that now, finding herself in such a predicament, she couldn’t help but panic.

    And in the end, that lapse in judgment led to an unexpected turn.

    For the first time, Haeyoung’s axe managed to graze Miyuki.

    Whoosh!

    Even so, Miyuki swiftly retrieved her sword to parry the blow.

    But Haeyoung’s axe came crashing down with the force to shatter both her weapon and her body.

    Crash!

    Unable to withstand the impact, Miyuki was sent flying and slammed into the wall.

    As she staggered to her feet, the first thing that entered her blurred vision was Haeyoung’s axe, descending with enough force to split her skull in two.

    “…I surrender.”

    Thud.

    The moment those words left her lips, Haeyoung’s axe came to an abrupt stop.

    Had it descended just a fraction more, the contents of Miyuki’s skull might have been exposed for all to see.

    Haeyoung gasped for breath.

    “Haa… Haa…”

    Only then did the crimson light in her eyes fade, returning to normal.

    As if her strength had left her, she let out a dull thud as she dropped her axe and collapsed onto the floor in a spread-eagle position.

    A pool of blood formed beneath her.

    Somehow, the victor looked far more battered than the defeated.

    “Hehehe.”

    Despite everything, she let out a weak chuckle, seemingly pleased with herself.

    Struggling to raise her upper body, she turned toward the transparent wall.

    “…Hehe. I won!”

    She grinned broadly, forming a V-sign with her fingers.

    And then, she promptly passed out.

    Miyuki checked her own condition before rising to her feet.

    ‘I must have at least three or four broken ribs.’

    Gripping her injured side, she looked down at Haeyoung.

    ‘Assuming I would win without question was my mistake. In the end, it was my arrogance that led to my defeat. I won’t try to justify it as carelessness—I must push myself even further.’

    “Hmph… I won… I…”

    Hearing Haeyoung’s sleep-talking, Miyuki let out a quiet chuckle.

    Then, she hoisted Haeyoung onto her back and carried her toward the waiting medical team.

    ‘Ugh, I’m going to get a facial cramp at this rate.’

    Gi-jun, who had been barely holding back his laughter, finally burst out into a fit of laughter.

    “Puhahahaha! Seriously, that was amazing. How does someone even think to flash a V-sign in that situation? Hey, Hitomi! What do you think? Isn’t our administrator just the cutest?”

    Unlike Gi-jun, who was roaring with laughter, Hitoshi wore a face as sour as if he had swallowed something foul.

    “…It’s Hitoshi, not Hitomi.”

    “Oh, my bad, my bad. I’m not great at remembering names. But why aren’t you answering my question? That administrator you looked down on—that lowly Epsilon-ranked Korean administrator—just defeated a mighty Delta-ranked administrator!”

    “……”

    Hitoshi, rendered speechless, remained silent.

    Seeing this, Gi-jun grinned wickedly and continued taunting him.

    “Oh? Why so quiet now? Knock, knock, Hitoshi? Are you there? Ah! Ah! Can you hear me? Or maybe you’re so shocked you’ve gone mute?”

    Gi-jun was relentless by nature. Moreover, his years of gaming had honed his skills in verbal combat to near perfection.

    ‘This bastard had the audacity to spend all day looking down on us—talking about Epsilon this, Korea that—well, look at him now.’

    “You sure loved running your mouth all day, but now that things aren’t in your favour, you’ve suddenly shut up? That’s some impressive tactical retreating. Is that how you managed to become Delta-ranked?”

    Face flushed as red as a tomato, Hitoshi could no longer contain his boiling rage and shouted—

    “Step outside. Now.”

    “What, you think that’ll scare me?”

  • The Regressed Extra Becomes a Genius Chapter 32

    After cramming in the training I had missed for a few days, I realized it was already past 10 p.m.

    Dragging my trembling legs, I returned to the dormitory and immediately took a shower.

    I washed off my sweat-drenched body with cold water.

    Afterward, I stepped out of the shower, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a can of beer.

    — Ssshhk!

    The refreshing sound of a beer can opening.

    I grabbed the can and chugged it down in one go.

    “Ahhh!”

    This is it.

    A Saturday night.

    A cold beer after grueling training.

    It felt like all the exhaustion built up over the past week melted away in an instant.

    “This is what I live for.”

    I threw myself onto the couch. Then, the incident in the training hall that morning suddenly came to mind.

    “Jang Ye…”

    At this point, with the storyline deviating from the original, how would she move?

    Demons are not so different from humans.

    They have emotions and even familial love.

    The only difference is that while humans can survive without consuming other living beings, demons must drink human blood to live.

    That very nature forces them to exist in conflict with humans.

    In the original story, Jang Ye despised Lee Seo-jun for killing her father, Jang Han. So, she quietly absorbed people one by one, building her power to take revenge on Lee Seo-jun. But now, with my interference, I became the one who killed Jang Han.

    The hatred that was supposed to be directed at Lee Seo-jun had now shifted toward “Kim Jinwoo.”

    “Then why did she approach Lee Seo-jun?”

    I couldn’t understand it.

    It was too deliberate to be a mere coincidence in the training hall.

    It felt just like in the original, where she approached Lee Seo-jun with a clear purpose.

    Which meant… Lee Seo-jun was still included in her revenge plans.

    “Hmm…”

    I had a bad feeling that something troublesome was bound to happen because of Jang Ye.

    It might be best to deal with her before things get out of hand.

    ‘The problem is, how do I handle her?’

    I couldn’t just attack her out of nowhere at school.

    But waiting for her to go berserk carried the risk of unpredictable butterfly effects.

    Ultimately, if I wanted to take her out, I had to create a situation where we were alone.

    “Ugh, this is giving me a headache.”

    No answer came to mind.

    I set the thoughts aside for now and sprawled on the couch.

    The main storyline’s crises were about to unfold, one by one.

    Apart from Jang Ye, there were several other villains lurking in the school.

    But thanks to my interference, the butterfly effect was making things harder to predict.

    Come to think of it, there was another major event happening in two weeks. Would it follow the original flow?

    “Sigh…”

    Who knows?

    It’ll work out somehow.

    Trying to perfectly predict a future that has already changed would be foolish.

    Forget it, I should check today’s training results instead.

    [Activating unique trait, ‘Outsider’s Privilege.’]

    [Displaying ability stats.]

    ━━
    [Stats]
    Stamina: 46.04
    Strength: 35.05
    Magic: 30.2
    Speed: 31.04
    Agility: 32.1
    Dexterity: 28
    ━━

    Finally, my magic had surpassed 30.

    My stamina and strength had also improved significantly—meaningful progress.

    But compared to others, I was still far behind. Especially when it came to magic. Even among students, my magic was embarrassingly low.

    The average student’s magic stat was around 50. I had just barely passed the halfway mark.

    “I need to train even harder.”

    Still, my growth rate was fast. At this pace, I should be able to catch up within a year.

    — Bzzzz.

    Just then, my smartphone, sitting on the desk, vibrated.

    The only person who ever contacted me on this phone was Han Se-yeon.

    Sure enough, when I checked, there was a message from her.

    [An article about the commercialization of Sacred Bloom will likely be published within the next two days.]

    “Oh.”

    In two days, huh?

    Once Holy Grass was commercialized, Hanseong Pharmaceuticals’ stock would skyrocket.

    And when people learned that Han Se-yeon was responsible for all of it, her standing in the Hanseong Group would also rise.

    Of course, compared to her brother Han Se-jin’s influence, it would still be insignificant.

    But what mattered was that she was taking steps toward catching up to him.

    [Understood.]

    [By the way, when do you plan to use the underground auction ticket you mentioned before? I’ve been busy preparing for business lately, so I can’t make much time for you.]

    The underground auction ticket.

    Not yet.

    The item I wanted wouldn’t be available until the auction in five months.

    And to buy it, I needed to save more money.

    [I plan to participate in the underground auction five months from now.]

    [Five months? By then, our contract will have ended long ago.]

    [That’s unrelated. We agreed from the start that the underground auction was a separate deal.]

    [I was joking. But why five months? I’m curious, but you’re not going to tell me, are you?]

    [No.]

    [Tch. You have more secrets than someone from the Hanseong family.]

    Her message made me chuckle.

    Then, a thought occurred to me.

    [By the way, what kind of business are you working on?]

    [You won’t tell me anything, so why should I tell you? It’s a secret too.]

    “Pfft.”

    That was an unexpectedly cute response from Han Se-yeon.

    Not long after, another message arrived.

    [Just kidding. But it’s a family secret, so I can’t tell you. Sorry.]

    No need to apologize.

    “Starting next week, it’s midterm exam period.”

    “Ugh…”

    Morning homeroom.

    At Jang Ancheol’s words, groans filled the classroom.

    “Since it’s the first exam, I hope you all prepare well. As you know, during the exams, guilds and other magic organizations will be observing. I trust you all understand what that means.”

    The magic academy’s exams were monitored by magic guilds and other mage organizations.

    According to the original story, an unprecedented number of guilds would be observing this midterm.

    Even more notable was that, instead of regular scouts, high-ranking guild executives would be attending in person.

    They had only one goal.

    To witness, with their own eyes, the two prodigies of the century—Lee Seo-jun and Yoo Ara.

    “Whew…”

    Hearing about the exams made me tense up.

    I needed to climb at least to the top 100 this time.

    Since I was currently ranked dead last, even raising my rank to 100th place would earn me a significant amount of points.

    And if I caught the scouts’ attention, I could rake in even more points—a win-win situation.

    Then, Jang Ancheol’s voice turned serious.

    “And I assume you’ve all heard the disturbing rumors lately?”

    A tense silence spread through the students.

    I already knew what he was referring to—the recent serial murders in the nearby cities.

    The unusual part was that all the victims had been completely drained of blood, leaving them shriveled like mummies.

    A classic sign of a demon attack.

    The likely culprit?

    Jang Ye, ranked fourth among the third-year students.

    But the school probably had no idea that a demon was among its students.

    “According to the Mage Association, demons seem to be actively operating in this area. Four people have already died in just a week. The association has increased patrols, but just in case, I urge you all to avoid going out late at night.”

    The students responded in unison.

    “Yes, sir.”

    And with that, the morning assembly ended.

    The dull morning theory class had finally ended.

    The students got up from their seats, chatting or studying.

    I sat in my chair, blankly staring out the window at the training field.

    The third-year students were attending an enhancement-type class.

    Among them, one student particularly stood out—Jang Ye.

    She was putting on a false, benevolent smile, acting like a model student among her peers.

    It was shameless, considering she had killed four people just this week.

    As I stared at her intently, a voice called me from behind.

    “Kim Sun-woo.”

    Turning my head, I saw an unexpected figure looking down at me.

    It was Yoo Ara.

    Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since she last spoke to me.

    “What’s up?”

    “Teacher Lee Hee-young is calling you.”

    Lee Hee-young?

    Why is she suddenly calling me?

    I tilted my head in confusion.

    “Why?”

    “How would I know?”

    “…Hmm.”

    Nodding, I got up from my seat.

    If a teacher calls, you go immediately.

    “Where is she?”

    “She’s probably in the faculty office.”

    “Wait, so you didn’t hear this from her directly?”

    “I also got a message.”

    “Oh.”

    Checking my smart student notebook, I saw a message had arrived for me as well.

    [Sunwoo, please come to the faculty office after class.]

    “I had notifications off, so I didn’t even realize I got a message.”

    I nodded at Yoo Ara and left the classroom.

    But when I glanced to the side, she was following me.

    “…You don’t need to escort me.”

    “What are you talking about? Teacher Lee Hee-young called me, too.”

    Oh, I see.

    Well, it makes sense. There’d be no reason to send her just to fetch me.

    Nodding, I walked toward the faculty office.

    “But why would she call both of us together?”

    “She probably has something to say about the manifestation-type class.”

    Manifestation-type class?

    Hmm.

    I had no guesses.

    When I opened the faculty office door and stepped inside, I saw Lee Hee-young waving at us from afar.

    “Over here!”

    “Hello.”

    “Hello.”

    Yoo Ara and I greeted her with slight bows as we approached.

    Then, I noticed a familiar face sitting in a chair—Park Inhwan.

    Lee Heeyoung smiled brightly and offered us seats.

    Yoo Ara and I sat down.

    “I called you because there are a few things to discuss. First, about the scholarship. It should be deposited by tomorrow.”

    Oh, so this is about the scholarship.

    I honestly didn’t expect to receive one.

    That offhand remark I made to Lee Hee-young before actually came true.

    “Ara, you’ll receive the special talent scholarship, while Inhwan and Sun-woo will receive the teacher-recommended scholarship.”

    “How much will we get?”

    “Ara will receive 50 million won, Inhwan 10 million won, and Sun-woo 5 million won.”

    Glancing at Yoo Ara, I noticed she wasn’t particularly excited.

    She had the expression of someone receiving something they obviously deserved.

    That kind of confidence was impressive.

    At that moment, Park Inhwan spoke in a bewildered tone.

    “Kim Sun-woo is getting a scholarship?”

    “Yes.”

    “Why? He’s the lowest-ranked student in the school.”

    “Because Sun-woo has talent.”

    Park Inhwan turned to look at me, his face full of disbelief.

    “Talent? Is it for the support-type category? At least if it were something related to unlocking barriers, like what Teacher Kim Yunjin mentioned before, I could understand…”

    “No, it’s for the manifestation-type category.”

    “…If the students find out about this, it’s going to cause an uproar. The support-type case at least had a justification, but…”

    Park Inhwan mumbled in a dissatisfied voice.

    Well, I could understand his reaction.

    I had shown something in the support-type category, but in the manifestation-type category, I hadn’t demonstrated much.

    Lee Hee-young simply smiled and said,

    “That’s not a problem. The teacher-recommended scholarship is at the teacher’s discretion.”

    Then, she changed the subject.

    “Let’s move on. The real reason I called you all here is for something else.”

    Everyone’s attention shifted to her.

    “This year, a special talent class will be created. Five students will be chosen per year, per category. For the second-year manifestation-type class, I plan to recommend you three first. The other two will be chosen from different classes.”

    Ah, the special talent class.

    That was an episode in the original work as well.

    To put it simply, it was like an advanced placement class in a regular school.

    Selection was based purely on talent and potential, not grades.

    I never expected to be recommended for it, considering I was ranked last in the entire school.

    “Is there anyone who wants to decline?”

    Silence.

    Of course, there was no reason to refuse.

    It was a rare opportunity to receive special lessons among the most talented students.

    Plus, it would allow me to interact with high-ranking students, giving me opportunities to earn achievement and reputation points.

    “No one wants to decline? Then I’ll proceed with the recommendation.”

    “Yes.”

    As everyone responded together, Lee Hee-young smiled in satisfaction.

    Then, she looked at me.

    “Oh, and Sun-woo.”

    “Yes?”

    “There’s a condition for you.”

    “A condition?”

    “You’re ranked last in the school, right? As you are now, you can’t join the special talent class. Instead, you need to prove your potential and talent to the school.”

    Prove my potential and talent?

    “In the upcoming midterm exam next week, you need to rank within the top 80. Think you can do it?”

  • I Am the Only Tower Master Chapter 4

    Have I ever been this obsessed with something in my life?

    For three days straight, I neither slept properly nor ate, devoting myself entirely to magic circle training.

    I lost track of whether it was day or night.

    When I got sleepy, I dozed off at my desk. When I got hungry, I drank the potion Eia handed me. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the potion’s effects, but it helped me forget my hunger for a while.

    The most emphasized point in The Fundamentals of Magic was a solid foundation.

    So rather than trying to learn a wide variety of magic circles, I focused on mastering the basics.

    On my first day at the mage tower, laying down a base on the desk and drawing magic circles with the mana squeezed from my fingertips was a beginner-level task.

    Next, I trained in laying a base on my palm and drawing magic circles there.

    Once I got used to that, I moved on to drawing magic circles purely with mana, without using my hands.

    The speed of execution was everything when it came to magic circles.

    To that end, The Fundamentals of Magic recommended a method called the “Stamping Technique.”

    It involved thoroughly memorizing the diagrams and formulas of magic circles, then manipulating one’s internal mana to instantly imprint the magic circle onto one’s palm. Skilled practitioners could stamp out magic circles in rapid succession, just like stamping a seal.

    It was similar to how professional musicians memorized sheet music and performed from memory on stage, but magic circles were even easier.

    By repeating a single spell hundreds or even thousands of times, the mana itself would eventually memorize the process and flow.

    Once the fundamental structure was formed by recalling the magic circle’s formula, the mana would instinctively move on its own to complete the circle, as if it understood the mage’s intent.

    This was an entirely different level of stability compared to musicians relying on memory and muscle memory alone.

    At this point, drawing magic circles with mana felt even easier than using my fingers.

    After four days of relentless training, I had gained considerable speed and significantly reduced my mistakes.

    After hundreds of repetitions, I reached the point where I could summon magic circles almost unconsciously.

    On the morning of my fourth day at the mage tower—

    I had fully mastered three basic magic circles.

    All that remained was practical application.

    “…Huaaaahm.”

    Of course, I was exhausted.

    But fatigue wasn’t a reason to stop practicing magic. Right now, magic was like a drug to me.

    The more I learned, the more I unconsciously craved greater power and knowledge. This obsession synergized perfectly with my natural tendency for over-immersion.

    Eia, who had been watching from the side, spoke with a concerned expression.

    “Recommendation: Considering the Tower Master’s health, I advise stopping the lesson and taking a break—”

    “…Just one more page, then I’ll sleep.”

    I replied as I moved on to the next magic circle.

    Thud!

    Something hit my foot. When I looked down under the desk, my smartphone had fallen to the floor.

    …Reality suddenly came rushing back.

    Snapping out of my trance, I turned on my phone and saw several unread messages and missed calls from a friend.

    —Hey, are you not coming to school today?

    —What’s going on? Pick up your phone!

    —You never skip class. You do realize that three consecutive unexcused absences will get you expelled, right? Are you seriously giving up like this?

    —It’s not my place to interfere with your decisions, but if you give up this way, you’ll regret it later. Can’t you reconsider just once?

    The last message was especially serious.

    After all this concern, I couldn’t just say I had completely forgotten about school.

    ‘Hmm, what should I do?’

    Korea Hunter Academy (KHA).

    The most prestigious hunter training institution in South Korea, with the current Hunter Association President as its headmaster.

    It was a controversial place, but for me, graduating from there was the fastest path to becoming a professional hunter.

    As long as I graduated, I could secure a guild position or even become a government hunter through the Association’s connections. That was why I had been holding on with everything I had.

    Of course, surviving at an academy with a graduation rate below 50% was no easy feat, especially with my non-combat-related abilities.

    Back then, my entire focus was on enduring life at the academy, and I had tried everything to stay afloat.

    But now—

    Did I really need the academy anymore?

    I had become the master of a mage tower. I had more freedom than ever before. My top priority was no longer surviving at the academy but delving into the study of magic.

    Still, dropping out without closure left a bitter taste.

    I didn’t like the idea of slinking away, giving those who looked down on me a reason to sneer and say, I knew it would happen.

    More importantly, I needed a hunter license to access dungeons freely.

    “Eia.”

    “Yes, Tower Master?”

    “Should I go back to the academy or not?”

    I asked abruptly, without context.

    She answered instantly.

    “If it is an outing, I strongly recommend it. The Tower Master needs fresh air.”

    …So she just wanted to kick me out, huh?

    After considering everything, I reached my conclusion.

    I decided to continue attending the academy for now.

    But I had no intention of staying until the official graduation.

    I would apply for early graduation in two weeks, obtain my diploma and license, and be done with it.

    Now that I had the mage tower and magic, there was nothing to fear.

    Just two more weeks.

    After four days, I finally threw on my coat and got ready to leave.

    * * *

    The fresh air outside felt amazing.

    Stepping out of the mage tower, I saw countless otherworldly plants that didn’t belong to Earth.

    The deeper an area was within an Otherworld’s influence, the more it turned into a jungle of alien plants, and the more frequently monsters appeared.

    There was a reason the area around the mage tower was designated a restricted zone.

    I opened my phone’s map app.

    ‘The station’s a bit far. Should I take the bus and transfer?’

    As I calculated the optimal route, I heard rustling behind me.

    I stopped walking and turned around.

    —Grrrrr!

    A shaggy, battered monster emerged from the bushes.

    Interesting.

    “Did you seriously wait here all this time for revenge?”

    Maybe it understood my mocking tone, because it let out a fierce roar and charged.

    I extended my arm forward.

    First, I solidified my mana using the Rune of Fortification to create a shield.

    〈Shield〉

    Clang!

    A magic circle unfolded in front of my palm. The monster’s claws bounced off, unable to pierce through.

    It hesitated in surprise. Meanwhile, I had already prepared my next spell.

    Next was the Rune of Projection, forming a magic circle to fire an offensive burst of mana.

    〈Mana Arrow〉

    Woong, woong.

    Arrows of pure mana shot out from my hands and struck the monster’s chest. Blood spattered as it thrashed in pain.

    Good. I could handle this.

    —Kyaaaaaah!

    The monster lunged persistently, but I calmly deployed my shield to block every attack while precisely targeting its wounds with mana arrows.

    With each arrow that embedded into its body, its movements slowed.

    Thunk!

    I finally landed a shot in one of its eyes.

    The monster writhed in agony, pulling the arrow out and lifting its head—

    —Not there. Look up.

    〈Gauntlet〉

    As the monster froze in confusion, I activated a magic circle above its head.

    Then, descending from above, I threw my fist toward the circle.

    Srrrng!

    The moment my fist passed through the glowing sigil—

    Boom!

    Like hammering a nail, my mana-coated punch slammed the monster’s skull into the ground.

    Brilliant blue sparks crackled around the impact site, a sight I was never tired of.

    The monster collapsed, unmoving.

    “Ugh, that stung.”

    I landed and shook out my tingling arm.

    My first victory as a mage.

    Just days ago, this monster had been a deadly threat. Now, I had taken it down with my bare hands.

    But rather than celebrating, my mind raced with thoughts about magic.

    The relationship between magic circle mastery and accuracy.

    The duration of Shield.

    Gauntlet’s immense power but limited range—

    I pondered these things as I exited the restricted zone.

    * * *

    Hunter Academy.

    Fourth-floor mana chamber lecture hall.

    “As you all know, modern hunters primarily rely on their unique abilities and ‘special scientific equipment’ made from monster by-products in combat.”

    Professor Oh Yeon-hee, an instructor in mana manipulation, continued her lecture.

    “Because of this, some people consider mana manipulation a secondary skill, but that’s a mistaken view. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that mana manipulation is the foundation of utilizing one’s unique abilities.”

    She pressed a button on the smart pen in her hand, switching to the next slide on the presentation screen.

    “Let’s take a look at the screen. If you attach a coloured lens to a flashlight, the light changes color. If you use a convex or concave lens, the light converges or spreads out depending on distance. The same principle applies to a player’s power. Here, think of the lens as your ‘unique ability’ and the flashlight as ‘mana.’ Depending on one’s unique ability, mana can create fire, reinforce the body, restrain enemies, or even crush them.”

    The students nodded with serious expressions.

    “Once a player’s ‘lens’ is set, it can’t be changed. However, improving the flashlight’s performance or replacing it with a better one is always possible. That’s why mana manipulation is directly tied to growth. Let me emphasize this once again.”

    Oh Yeon-hee activated the devices set up on stage. The lighting equipment, reminiscent of a photography studio, concentrated light onto a single point.

    All of these were expensive mana amplification devices. She approached them and released her mana.

    “You’re all second-years, so you should be able to produce at least a ‘mana thread,’ right?”

    A thin blue thread flowed from her index finger.

    “Mana is fundamentally gaseous, but players can condense and focus it to form solid threads. These mana threads have countless applications in real combat, making them an essential skill for aspiring pro hunters.”

    The mana thread extending from her fingertip coiled and moved, eventually forming the shape of a small flower.

    Gasps of admiration arose from the students.

    “The most crucial aspects of mana threads are delicate control and concentration. If you lose even a bit of focus, the flower will disappear before it fully blooms.”

    As she spoke, the flower she had created dissolved into the air.

    “Alright, now it’s your turn. Come up one by one and try it.”

    One by one, students stood in front of the mana projectors and attempted to create mana flowers.

    Since they didn’t have to worry about mana consumption, they could focus entirely on control.

    However, it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Most students failed.

    They could generate mana threads, but either applied too much force and lost the shape or lost concentration midway, causing the threads to scatter into the air.

    Despite the failures, Oh Yeon-hee smiled encouragingly.

    “Making mistakes at first isn’t embarrassing. But remember, in two weeks, your progress will be graded in a practical assessment, so practice diligently. Next!”

    At the mention of an assessment, the students’ expressions stiffened.

    Realizing the importance of practice, they began earnestly attempting to form mana flowers even from their seats.

    Clunk.

    The classroom door opened.

    A scrawny-looking Yushin walked in.

    “…….”

    A cold silence filled the room.

    “Sorry for being late.”

    He bowed slightly and tried to head to his seat.

    “Kim Yushin. I heard you’ve been absent for three days in a row. What happened?”

    Oh Yeon-hee stopped him.

    “I had some personal matters to take care of.”

    His flat, emotionless response made her expression harden.

    At Hunter Academy, Kim Yushin was quite infamous.

    Despite having a non-combat-oriented ability, he did whatever it took to survive. His efforts went beyond mere hard work—they bordered on madness, leaving those around him in disbelief.

    As someone who taught mana manipulation, Oh Yeon-hee appreciated his diligence. She had taken a liking to him, especially since he excelled in her classes.

    But something about him today was different.

    The passionate, driven Kim Yushin was gone

    He wasn’t openly displaying it, but his expression was one of complete detachment.

    His attitude toward the lesson lacked any seriousness.

    Looks like I’ll have to wake him up a bit.

    Oh Yeon-hee spoke up.

    “Kim Yushin, put your bag down and come up here immediately.”

    “Yes.”

    He did as instructed and stood before her.

    “Today’s lesson is simple.”

    She demonstrated by placing her fingers into the projector’s light and forming a flower with mana threads.

    “It’s about shaping forms with mana threads.”

    While she explained, the seated students exchanged quiet smirks.

    “He’s doomed. The professor is going to tear him apart.”

    “She’s strict about class participation. He should’ve known better.”

    “If that loser can’t even do this, there’s no hope for him.”

    “Even the stubbornness he had is gone now. Say goodbye.”

    Yushin’s extreme dedication had always made him stand out, but it hadn’t earned him many friends.

    After listening to her explanation, Yushin asked,

    “Does it have to be a flower?”

    “Anything is fine.”

    Nodding, Yushin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

    Hooooo…

    Slowly exhaling, he opened his eyes.

    His expression was ice-cold, his pupils unfocused. That eerie intensity he occasionally displayed had returned.

    …That unsettling focus of his is still there.

    Oh Yeon-hee shuddered involuntarily as she watched from up close.

    Srrrk.

    Mana threads began flowing from Yushin’s fingertips.

    Not one, but five threads intertwined, extending upward.

    Oh Yeon-hee couldn’t believe her eyes.

    Simultaneous mana thread control?!

    The sturdy threads formed a trunk, then branched out in multiple directions.

    From these branches, smaller threads emerged, shaping leaves and blooming flowers.

    Oh Yeon-hee’s jaw dropped.

    No, this isn’t just simultaneous control…!

    Yushin wasn’t merely manipulating multiple threads at once—he was completely dominating his mana, shaping it into threads as he pleased.

    “……Huh?”

    “What the hell…?”

    The students, who had been struggling to form small petals, gaped in disbelief.

    While they had only managed to create tiny flowers, Yushin had formed a massive tree in full bloom.

    And he didn’t stop there.

    The tree continued to grow.

    It had long since exceeded the projector’s range, but Yushin no longer needed the machine’s assistance.

    The mana-thread tree expanded until it covered the entire ceiling of the classroom, its blossoms shimmering like a breathtaking masterpiece.

    Finally satisfied, Yushin turned his head.

    Oh Yeon-hee, her face frozen in shock, clung to the podium for support.

    “Can I go back to my seat now?”

    Her mind had gone completely blank.

    As a professor, she was supposed to evaluate students’ work, but this was beyond her comprehension.

    This wasn’t just a matter of talent—it shattered every existing convention.

    All she could do was nod.

    Yushin closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

    As he exhaled, the magnificent tree dissipated into the air.

    “…….”

    “…….”

    A heavy silence filled the room.

    “T-That’s all for today’s lesson.”

    Completely dazed, Oh Yeon-hee ended the class.

  • A Veteran Player Becomes a Troublemaker Chapter 13

    ‘They don’t even seem willing to hear me out.’

    “It’s better than not trying at all…”

    “It’s impossible from the start. If it were possible, we would have requested support already. We need to find another way.”

    Ian’s expression twisted sharply.

    “Advisor Jurdan.”

    “Yes, Young Lor— gasp!”

    Jurdan suddenly felt as if the air had been knocked out of him.

    Ian was glaring at him with eyes full of killing intent.

    [Your intimidating gaze has seized the room.]

    It was a skill Ian had dismissed as useless, thinking it only scared the maids when they made eye contact.

    But in moments like this, it was incredibly effective.

    ‘W-what is this? What kind of killing intent is this…?!’

    Perhaps it was because he had fought in wars against monsters and even killed people?

    The fear he felt from the gaze of someone he had always dismissed as a troublemaker was overwhelming.

    “I know how you see me, Advisor. I’ve given you plenty of reasons to look down on me. So, I won’t hold it against you for cutting me off just now. However.”

    A bead of cold sweat rolled down Jurdan’s face.

    “This is a crisis for the territory. I cannot tolerate dismissing a potential solution without even considering it.”

    “Hahaha!”

    While the other vassals’ faces were stiff with tension, Hugo suddenly burst into laughter.

    ‘I thought my son had changed, but he’s truly matured.’

    If this were the old Ian, he would have thrown whatever was at hand or even drawn his sword at being ignored.

    ‘But instead of drawing his sword, Ian used charisma to change the atmosphere.’

    While others were still unsure of Ian’s transformation, Hugo saw it clearly.

    As his father, he knew better than anyone.

    After returning from the monster hunt, Ian had changed unmistakably.

    Glancing at Hubert, he noticed his son was also surprised by the situation.

    Hubert had mentioned to him that he felt something different about his brother during their spar.

    Of course, it wasn’t full confidence, but more of a cautious observation.

    ‘Did he have a moment of self-reflection?’

    He didn’t know what Ian had gone through, but perhaps it had been a turning point.

    ‘It’s like he’s become a completely different person.’

    Hugo, who would never have dreamed that Ian could change so drastically, soon stopped laughing and mediated.

    “From what I’ve heard, it seems the advisor is more at fault here. What do you think?”

    “I also think the advisor was in the wrong first. How about an apology?”

    As everyone pointed out Jurdan’s mistake, his face turned red.

    Apologizing to Ian was humiliating.

    He never thought he’d be called out by the troublemaker young lord he despised more than anyone.

    But his mistake was undeniable.

    “…I apologize for my rudeness, Young Lord.”

    After his apology, the oppressive atmosphere dissipated as if it had never been there.

    “I accept your apology.”

    Only then could Jurdan breathe easily again.

    “I was also too worked up. I’m sorry. Let’s both be more careful from now on.”

    Everyone in the room was stunned by Ian’s words.

    ‘An apology? From that troublemaker young lord?’

    ‘Am I dreaming?’

    Meanwhile, Ian smiled proudly, though no one else could see it.

    ‘Good. Now word will spread among the vassals that I’ve changed.’

    By showing his transformation, their perception of him would gradually shift!

    It was going exactly as Ian intended.

    ‘And Advisor Jurdan. He’s an important figure in the territory, right?’

    Despite his dislike for Ian, Jurdan was a highly capable individual.

    If Oswell was the core of Schrantz’s military strength, Jurdan was the backbone of its internal affairs.

    ‘We need him to stay if the territory is to function properly.’

    Whether things went perfectly or disastrously, Jurdan was indispensable.

    With that in mind, Ian’s crimson gaze turned to Hugo.

    “Father. The fate of our family hangs in the balance. Even as we speak, the rampaging monsters are advancing. We have no time to waste. Please make a decision now.”

    Perhaps it was Ian’s confidence or the lack of other options, but Hugo decided to hear him out.

    “I’ll ask you one thing. Are you confident you can persuade Duke Endran?”

    Confident?

    Ian probably knew Duke Endran better than anyone else in the room.

    As someone from the Fried Empire, playing through quests often brought him into contact with Duke Endran, a key figure in Meta Pangaea.

    So, naturally.

    “I’m confident.”

    “…Alright. Then let’s try it your way.”

    Hugo didn’t elaborate on what the plan was.

    Whether it was because he trusted his son, the urgency of the situation, or simply having no other options, it was unclear.

    But the fact that he made the decision was enough for Ian.

    “Thank you.”

    Ian continued with a confident expression.

    “By the way, how well-armed are the monsters?”

    “There are goblins riding wolves and shooting arrows, and orcs with basic armor. Essentially, they’re all armed with iron weapons.”

    “Hmm…”

    Ian fell into thought.

    If they were just wielding stone axes or wooden clubs, they might have a chance at victory.

    After all, no matter how hard you hit plate armor with a stone, it wouldn’t do much damage.

    ‘But if they’re armed with iron weapons and have mobility…’

    They weren’t enemies you could recklessly charge at.

    After some deliberation, Ian reached a conclusion.

    “Please give me five knights, including Sir Oswell, and 100 soldiers. I’ll hold them off until reinforcements arrive.”

    “Gasp!”

    The vassals were stunned, not expecting Ian to volunteer for such a dangerous task.

    “Do you really have to go? Didn’t you say you’d persuade Duke Endran?”

    As a father, Hugo couldn’t help but want to stop his son from jumping into what seemed like a pit of fire.

    “I proposed this, so I should take responsibility. I’ll persuade the duke through correspondence.”

    The word “responsibility” coming from Ian’s mouth.

    The vassals thought it was a word they’d never expected to hear from him.

    “Didn’t you hear what I said? You may have distinguished yourself in the last hunt, but this is on a completely different level in terms of quality and armament.”

    Ian shrugged.

    “Whether I stay here and fight or go there, over 1,000 monsters are coming either way. If I don’t go, the damage to the villagers left behind will be even greater.”

    It was clear that the villagers who couldn’t evacuate in time would suffer horribly at the hands of the monsters.

    “And if I fight well, it’ll reduce the burden here, won’t it? Even if I fail, it won’t affect the territory.”

    As someone who wasn’t even the heir, his death wouldn’t matter since Hubert was already recognized as the successor.

    That’s what Ian was implying.

    “……”

    Hubert stared silently at Ian.

    ‘Is he serious?’

    It was as if he was walking willingly to his death.

    There was no trace of fear in his demeanor.

    The brother who had caused trouble every single day.

    The brother who had no accomplishments but an inflated ego, easily provoked by the slightest provocation.

    The brother who was endlessly strong against the weak and endlessly weak against the strong!

    The person he had refused to acknowledge as family was now preparing to face monsters, ready to die.

    “Sigh… Alright, do as you wish.”

    The saying that no parent can win against their child felt especially true to Hugo today.

    “I’ll prepare to depart immediately.”

    Ian stood up and left the meeting room without another word.

    “What’s gotten into that troublemaker all of a sudden?”

    “Did he hit his head during the monster hunt?”

    “Has he finally come to his senses?”

    “Or is he planning to flee with the soldiers?”

    Opinions about Ian’s decision varied widely.

    Some were impressed by his changed demeanor, others remained skeptical, and some wore serious expressions, considering the possibility of the succession dynamics shifting again.

    Whatever his intentions, Ian’s decision had stirred up the officials.

    But Hubert was different from the others.

    Hubert had seen Ian’s eyes.

    Those eyes belonged to a knight who had already made up his mind.

    The drastic change in his brother left him deeply confused.

    Departure

    Ian and the 100 soldiers set out for Vilcen, the northernmost village of the Schrantz territory, as soon as preparations were complete.

    It was the first place the monsters would reach if they entered the territory.

    Of course, Ian didn’t forget to send a letter to Duke Endran’s household during the process.

    While on the move, Oswell reported to Ian.

    “I had Dwayne tested to confirm, and his stamina, strength, and agility are impressive. Based on that alone, he’s on par with novice knights.”

    The report was about Dwayne.

    “However, his swordsmanship and spearmanship are average, and he’s never ridden a horse, so his horsemanship is nonexistent.”

    Ian glanced back.

    There was Dwayne, struggling on horseback, clearly in pain.

    Just a few days ago, he had been a mere soldier, and now he was heading to the front lines as a knight.

    ‘If it weren’t for me, he’d be safe in the rear.’

    Dwayne’s life was both tragic and pitiable.

    In the end, Ian’s decision to bring him along had put him in danger.

    Though Dwayne himself didn’t seem to think that way.

    But more importantly…

    “Why is Dwayne, who just joined, here?”

    Oswell let out a deep sigh.

    “He insisted on protecting you, Young Lord. And Lord Hugo happened to witness it.”

    “Ah…”

    That made some sense.

    Hugo, being a doting father, must have been moved by Dwayne’s determination to protect his son.

    “But even so, I doubt that was the only reason.”

    ‘It’s clear Dwayne is deeply grateful to me, but his loyalty isn’t so high that he’d risk his life.’

    Oswell nodded, confirming Ian’s speculation.

    “Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. He’s originally from that village. He has family there and has hunted in the area, so he knows the terrain better than anyone. He convinced Lord Hugo with that.”

    “Is he thoughtless or just bold?”

    For a mere soldier to act so boldly in front of the lord, who was like a king within the territory.

    An ordinary person would be nervous, but Dwayne clearly wasn’t ordinary.

    “Should we discipline him now?”

    Ian chuckled and waved his hand.

    “Discipline? My father probably didn’t mind. And you’ve already warned him, so let it be.”

    “Agh! Ugh…!”

    As Dwayne groaned in pain, Ian spoke softly.

  • About a Dating Sim Where Dating Is Impossible Chapter 87

    A reckless strategy—drawing the attention of 3,000 Janissaries with only 100 men.

    Even the Supreme Commander himself had become the bait in this high-stakes gamble, which ultimately led to Morea’s victory. The excitement of this miraculous triumph refused to decline. Was it truly that desperate a situation in everyone’s eyes?

    At the very least, it seemed that this battle had restored the shaken loyalty of the soldiers. After all, the most impactful factor must have been the general personally charging into mortal danger to buy time.

    Yet, there was an even more striking achievement.

    “Your Highness, I’ve compiled an estimate of our casualties from this battle…”

    Adrianos’s expression suggested he had something to say. Why was that? As I pondered, the answer lay closer than expected.

    Right beside me, having propped myself up from the bed, clung something even stickier than the blood and fat I had only just managed to wipe off my face.

    “Uuuh… Your Highness…”

    “…What is this?”

    “I should be the one asking. So, was Dame Ivania truly your mistress?”

    “Rather than let you misunderstand, I must reveal a shocking truth—you see, I am still a virgin.”

    “W-what!?”

    Even amid this absurd exchange, Ivania continued rubbing her cheek against mine, like a puppy seeking affection. Normally, I would have coldly dismissed her and sent her away, but right now, I didn’t feel like doing that.

    No matter how bizarre my first impression of her had been, she had stayed by my side, faithfully serving me for nearly a decade. Surely, she deserved some form of acknowledgment for her devotion.

    Perhaps that was why my demeanor had softened more than usual. Normally, Ivania would hesitate before suddenly ambushing me with her advances, yet this time, she openly indulged in such gestures.

    Thinking back, I had been much more relaxed before I began my training. It was remarkable how much a person could change. Even I found it strange.

    Adrianos, however, did not seem amused.

    “Jokes aside, let’s return to the matter at hand. In this battle, we suffered a relatively minor loss of about 200 casualties. Meanwhile, the enemy sustained close to 2,000. Encouraged by this victory, I suggested we pursue them and expand our gains, but…”

    “A chase would cost us time. Adrianos, this war has now become a battle against time. Even if we annihilated all 3,000 Janissaries, if we remain trapped here, the ultimate victory still belongs to them.”

    “I understand that, logically. I do. But… it still feels like a waste, does it not? This was a perfect chance to wipe out the Janissaries.”

    “Even if we could not kill them all at once, they are nothing more than a piece of flesh we managed to tear off the enemy. It may hurt them more than other wounds, but it’s not enough to overturn the outcome of the war.”

    As I continued my grim practicality, Adrianos’s voice only grew louder. Was he losing his temper? Perhaps this was how others viewed Morea as well.

    If we can do it, why don’t we? If we have the power, why don’t we go all out?

    His eyes reflected those very thoughts. Perhaps he had even voiced what many others dared not speak aloud.

    “Why do you so severely underestimate yourself? Look around you! Have you not already proven yourself? You stopped 3,000 with just 100 men. After such an incredible feat, how can you still lack confidence?!”

    His emotions struck me head-on. He clenched his fists, trembling with frustration, barely restraining himself out of respect for his liege.

    Should I say something?

    As I hesitated, carefully weighing my words, a voice interrupted his near-explosive fury.

    “Only those who have never fought on the frontlines would spout such nonsense. Are you truly upset about this? Or do you still not understand?”

    “You—!”

    The one who spoke was already infamous within the army.

    Despite Morea’s weakened state, he brazenly addressed a member of the royal family as ‘cousin.’ While his lack of decorum was one thing, what truly made him stand out was that he had survived until the end.

    His courage and martial prowess were undeniable, and since I personally allowed him to call me ‘cousin,’ few dared to object.

    “Hey, cousin. I thought something was off when you burst into tears the moment you saw me… So, were you really in that kind of relationship with that mercenary commander?”

    “Enough nonsense. I called you here because it’s time you introduced yourself properly.”

    “Your Highness, do you truly intend to acknowledge this man as your cousin?”

    “I’m not saying I will make him a member of the royal family. I simply wish to recognize him as a friend whom I can call cousin.”

    “You seem a little too agitated… Hey, you. If you truly believe you’ve gauged the full strength of the infidels just by facing the Janissaries that the mercenary commander shattered into pieces, then… Have you forgotten what had to be risked to accomplish that?”

    “I was prepared to risk my life from the very start—”

    “Where would you even use your life for? Look, you’ve already forgotten. What was at stake in this battle was the life of the lord you serve.”

    With those words, the cousin cast off his helmet. His black, curly hair, just long enough to brush against his shoulders, and his dark, piercing eyes—covered in black from head to toe, even with curly hair—made it hard to say there was no resemblance. It was a useless thought, one he hadn’t entertained in a long time.

    As Constantine silently observed the situation, still feeling the soft touch of Ivania’s cheek pressing against his own, the fight seemed to end before it even truly began.

    The words just spoken must have struck a nerve, as Adriano’s twisted expression shattered. And the satisfaction of seeing that must have been immense, for the cousin grinned in deep contentment before turning back to face Constantine.

    “Don Francisco. I fought in the crusade to reclaim the Iberian Peninsula.”

    “Castile? Aragon?”       *They are kingdoms in Spain.

    “Aragonian. But at some point, the fighting started to die down. I had no interest in lands or titles, so I started looking for another worthy crusade to join. That’s how I ended up all the way here in Greece.”

    “So… Castile and Aragon show no particular interest in Greece?”

    “Well, now that things are settling down, they do seem to be turning their attention abroad. But this place won’t be easy. As long as Venice dominates the Aegean, maritime expansion won’t be simple, will it?”

    The cousin shrugged. He wasn’t particularly handsome, nor ruggedly charming, but his confident smile and easygoing manner drew people in. Meanwhile, Adriano, quietly gauging the situation, slipped out of the tent. He seemed lost in thought. It was slightly concerning, but now wasn’t the time. If he spoke carelessly and word reached Murad, everything could come crashing down.

    As if to confirm how dangerous their situation was, a messenger burst into the tent in a flurry. A bad feeling stirred. The moment he saw the messenger’s stiffened expression, he was sure—this was a crisis. But at the same time, he instinctively knew it was another opportunity to break the enemy’s momentum.

    And the answer, of course, lay in the messenger’s next words.

    “A—A critical report, Your Highness! Scouts report that forces have rallied to join the Sultan’s army and are advancing toward us!”

    So they’ve finally come. The noose Murad had been tightening was now pressing against his throat. The Sultan would never have willingly sacrificed his Janissaries. If they had delayed even slightly, Morea would have been forced into a brutal struggle against the combined might of the Janissaries and the rebel forces. In the end, it was only by staking their lives on the line that they had carved out a path forward.

    Now, it was time to deceive Murad.

    As he was deep in contemplation, the cousin suddenly tapped the hilt of his sword and burst into laughter. He glanced over, puzzled, only to see his cousin grinning broadly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

    “I used to think my life was full of twists and turns, but looking at you, I can’t even compare. Now this is a turbulent life, wouldn’t you say?”

    “…Indeed. A life of endless chaos, as you put it.”

    They had fought for their lives and opened a path forward—only to now face inevitable death. Could there be a more ironic and tumultuous fate than this?

    Thus, three weeks after the prince secured victory against the Janissaries—

    As Murad waited in Edirne for his reinforcements to arrive, doing his utmost to stabilize the chaos in Nemeapatre, an unbelievable report reached him.

    Had he not just resolved himself for the battles to come? Yet the more details he heard, the harder it became to deny the truth.

    One hundred against three thousand. The Janissaries defeated.

    And in the fierce melee, the prince had suffered grave injuries. —And seizing the opportunity, another of his vassals had launched a sudden assault.

    “I granted you only a brief moment of relief.”

    Murad crumpled the letter in his grasp. That man had fought to the bitter end, going so far as to burn an entire city to save his dying homeland. A stubborn prince with an unyielding will. And yet, even the strongest determination meant nothing without Allah’s favour.

    For Murad, who had anticipated a fateful reunion with his greatest adversary, a clash born of both hatred and expectation, this was a disappointing end.

    “But Allah did not grant you that relief, did He?”

    To minimize losses against his three thousand Janissaries, the prince had personally led his knights. And in doing so, he collapsed on the battlefield, paying the price for disregarding his own grievous wounds.

    A futile end for a man whose passion far exceeded the destiny allotted to him.

    Murad exhaled, letting go of the last vestiges of hope, and accepted the harsh reality before him.

    The long-awaited battle with his sworn enemy, a fight of honor—was not to be.

    —The prince was dead.