1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

130. Special Admission (1)

Evening time was reserved for after-school classes.

Asley and Limberton were bustling about, but I was the exception.

After Henderson’s departure, there were no classes left that I deemed worthy of attending.

I tore my gaze from the sunset and looked towards the training grounds. There, Leana was stirring the water in a basin with a massive ladle under Belen’s guidance.

As I languidly drifted in thought, Donathan spoke.

‘Your arm movements have become quite refined. I can see you’re progressing day by day.’

‘Really? I can’t tell much myself.’

‘Hah······. When will you ever develop an eye for the sword, I wonder.’

From the looks of her achievements, it seemed Leana was putting in a great deal of effort.

The other main characters were the same.

Just look at Shulafe; Rix’s training had doubled in intensity.

The knights of the Adel clan were also running laps around the training grounds whenever they found a moment.

The mages, too, would occasionally send forth thunderous blasts from some secluded spot, practicing their spells.

Surely, the incident where Luon had toyed with him like a child must have struck a deep chord within that fellow.

Yet, seeing them work so diligently, undeterred, one could only say they were true protagonists.

If it were them, they would surely find their way through.

In the end, the problem lay with me.

‘It feels as if I’m the only one left behind. The others know how to grow stronger, but I’m stuck in a stagnation phase.’

Even with the hundreds of gold spent on my exoskeleton suit, when viewed as a whole, I still fell short of being a playable character.

The speed of my strikes was beyond Leana, yet still beneath Bellen.

And that was only at a limit of two strikes.

Of course, I could surpass Bellen’s speed with a single blow. Perhaps.

It was a strike strong enough to slice through walls that my body could not even touch.

But that meant sacrificing the second strike and pouring all my mana into that one hit.

‘Still, haven’t I grown quite a bit? This is a remarkable advancement. Do not be disheartened, Hursel.’

Donatan’s words of comfort did not resonate with me.

This was not enough.

I needed guidance on how to grow in the long term.

‘Time flows even now. If I don’t decide quickly what to do next, it will all be wasted.’

What to do felt so distant that I struggled to find any direction.

I had shared my troubles, yet this cursed sword spirit was too busy ignoring me.

‘What can be done? The path you chose is just that. Anyone hearing it would think you were pushed to take it.’

‘If you have a brain, then think a little, will you!’

‘Ah, anguish is inevitable. That is your burden to bear.’

‘Indeed, Donatan seems to lack wit, offering little help. With such intelligence, it’s no wonder he’s become a prisoner in the prison of the sword. In the end, all the thinking falls to me.’

‘W-what?’

‘Oh dear, I slipped into a monologue there.’

‘You did that on purpose, didn’t you!’

Returning to the main point, the path I had chosen was without a pioneer.

This means I have to study and learn everything on my own.

The path of a counterfeit mage knight was, in truth, an extreme road of the outcast.

‘Shall I rise now? I came to see if I might gain some inspiration, but it seems I’ve gained nothing.’

I tore my gaze away from Leana, who was training under Bellen, and stood up.

Our eyes met, but I refrained from asking about the mysterious sword technique I had used to slay the Bondragon.

Thanks to a brief explanation, I had avoided that inquiry.

– It was luck.

– You, brat?

– Just listen to the end. Honestly, at my age, it’s absurd to wield such a technique, isn’t it?

– Hm, that’s true.

– I just thought, for some reason, that I could do it, and then ‘voila,’ it happened.

Of course, he didn’t seem to believe me, but I had no other words to conjure.

At least I had made one thing clear.

If such a situation were to arise again, it might lead to the unfortunate event of being asked to use that technique.

– And when I used it, I felt as if my lifespan was being cut short. The reason I couldn’t help my great-aunt last time was that I had fainted from being on the brink of death.

Bellen’s interest in that technique likely stemmed from his own desire to learn it.

But to have one’s lifespan diminished?

Once, he was an old man eager to ascend to the heavens, but now, thanks to Leana, he valued life.

It was only natural that his enthusiasm would wane.

– Well, I can’t say there’s no cost to that power. It seems you’ve tapped into something you shouldn’t have.

Perhaps Bellen had his own realizations, as he accepted it without further argument.

Then suddenly, a question arose that I hadn’t considered at the time.

‘But what is this “Jingi”?’

When I asked, Donathan answered.

‘It’s the energy that humans possess from the moment they are in their mother’s womb. It’s an essential force that cannot be absent for practicing Aura cultivation.’

‘And if one uses it?’

‘Jingi is the power that sustains life. Wouldn’t it shorten your lifespan?’

“Hmm.”

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to experiment with it just once, to see if I could achieve ‘1-second invincibility.’

Just a tiny bit, just in case.

* * *

The outskirts of Frost Heart are all mountains.

It was not uncommon for a student to step out through the main gate of the fortress, seeking to train in the fresh air.

Of course, one must pass a rigorous set of criteria to obtain a permit, to determine whether they were merely a runaway or not.

“Phew.”

In the quiet of the mountains, I fixed my gaze upon a solitary tree, channeling energy into my sword.

A peculiar sensation, as if a fragment of my soul was merging with the blade. The power of the essence flowed through it.

This part was expertly manipulated by Donathan.

As I swung the sword, the tree was cleanly severed.

Rustle!

It was not the blade that cut it. It was the wind of the sword.

I had succeeded in using the essence beautifully, but to put it bluntly, I had failed.

The ‘One Second Invincibility’ did not activate.

It was a truth learned at the cost of a day’s lifespan.

“What a pity.”

After all, just as pulling a single hair wouldn’t trigger ‘One Second Invincibility,’ a day was hardly enough.

Yet, I couldn’t sacrifice a significant portion of my life for a mere experiment.

I wasn’t mad enough to wager my remaining days for a simple confirmation.

‘Hershel, you are quite fortunate.’

Donathan prattled on with a sense of superiority.

‘The essence is a power that can only be expended by those who are prepared to face death. Unless one has attained the ultimate enlightenment, it is only used occasionally, driven by the instinct to survive in the face of death.’

With Donathan’s continued explanation, Belen’s reaction became clear.

Somehow, he had accepted it on his own accord.

He must have thought that I had merely been lucky to escape death when I sensed the danger before the Bondragon.

‘You have gained a rare experience thanks to me. Be aware of it.’

‘Yes, you’re so great. I got it, so stop talking.’

In the end, it was a power I was reluctant to wield.

Ignoring Donathan’s boast, I stared at the intact tree.

“Well then, shall we begin training as planned from today?”

The content of the training was simple.

Binding hundreds of gold threads to the muscles used when wielding a sword, in precise order.

To illustrate, consider a pitcher throwing a baseball: starting from the legs, moving through the torso, shoulders, arms, forearms, and finally the hands. This is the sequence in which the muscles engage.

I swiftly manipulate the hundreds of threads to channel strength into each necessary muscle.

This entire process demands an incredibly delicate control.

“Then let us begin.”

At my signal, Donathan prepared the ‘Lightning Slash.’

There are many techniques, but this one was chosen for its sheer speed.

According to Donathan, this technique is the quintessence of modern swordsmanship, refined with a focus on speed, surpassing any technique of the past.

“Huuh.”

I steadied my breath, quickly manipulating the hundreds of threads in sync with the electric signals from Donathan.

A sensation washed over me, as if a slick serpent had slithered from my legs, through my waist, across my chest, and down my arms in an instant.

Just as the skin on my wrist began to dampen, a blade of wind surged forth.

Ping!

The target was a solitary tree, just beyond the reach of my blade.

It merely etched a line into the bark. This was less powerful than the strikes I had unleashed in my room with full force.

Yet, considering that this was not a full-on strike fueled by my mana, it was a commendable effort.

‘The timing is off, Hessel. Align yourself more closely with the signals my body provides.’

“Really?”

After delivering two strikes, I took a moment to rest. With this body devoid of aura, it was difficult to absorb the recoil. I waited for the lactic acid in my muscles to dissipate before repeating the motion.

These days stretched on for several days. Then one day, Donathan blurted out something unnecessary.

‘Hessel, look at what you’re doing. Do you truly think this clumsy swordplay makes you a wizard?’

“If I hadn’t learned magic, I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

‘Ahem, I agree with that…’

“And I still consider myself a wizard. You are the swordsman. Think of it as an agreement that makes you a magic swordsman.”

Suddenly, swordsmanship took precedence over magic, but I did not neglect my magic lessons.

As time passed, the moment drew near.

This evening, the special entrants were set to arrive here.

“Oh dear, it’s already time. Perhaps I should prepare to greet them.”

* * *

In one of the rooms of the Adel Hall, a long table and a sofa were displayed, adorned with paintings and various luxuries.

This place is a lounge where only the ten can set foot.

Emerick, stepping in for the first time, nodded at the hand gesture of a man already seated.

The man was Berndal, the representative of the Adel Dormitory, an eight-coin player.

“Looks like the others are still not here.”

“Well, that’s true. But, Emerick, is it true you’re planning to bow out of the gambling?”

Currently, everyone had made a pact to keep the identity of Hessel tightly under wraps from those above seven coins.

The miracle of this situation was born from the fact that everyone was still struggling to recover fully from the economic depression, eagerly awaiting this duel gamble.

Emerick replied calmly.

“It seems excessive for me. Of course, I have no intention of getting in the way.”

“Are you trying to deceive us just because you’ve made some money? …I’ve had a hell of a time tiptoeing around those guys.”

Emerick chuckled softly.

It seemed Berndal was sweating a bit.

“I heard from Hamon. He said the elders came to them because Hessel Ben Tenest ‘luckily’ found an artifact during the practical training?”

“Is that all? They’ve even made sure to tell the entire student body not to utter a word about the ‘blood’ of the ‘Blood Serpent’ in front of those guys.”

Currently, Berndal, who had lost ten thousand coins, was poor.

He was the one who desperately wished for this gamble more than anyone else.

Yet to believe that, Emerick found the other ten to be laughable.

“Ha, to see you so easily fooled, it seems you’re still naive to the ways of the world.”

“Hey, honestly, I’d believe it too. There should have been at least one person who found an artifact during the practical training by now.”

“Hmmm, that’s true. With no precedent, it’s understandable.”

Emerick found some degree of understanding in that.

He was the first student to find an artifact during practical training.

It wouldn’t be too strange if it became gossip even in the royal court, and it didn’t seem odd for the elders to come and commend him.

“Still, I’m not entirely without the intention to help, Berndal.”

“Hmm?”

“Actually, it seems Hessel Ben Tenest is aiming for quite an interesting position.”

“A position? What kind of position?”

“Well, that is…”

Emerick had been pondering since his conversation with Hessel in the dining hall.

Helping him toward his goal before graduation didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

As he spoke his thoughts aloud, Berndal’s eyes widened in shock.

“What? The student council president?”

“Shibjeon will be a hindrance to him. A lowly Shulafean dare not sit in that seat.”

Berndal gasped in disbelief.

“Y-yes, but, my friend. The problem isn’t Shibjeon. They are merely foolish puppets being used.”

Shibjeon had long since fallen to the status of a dog for the student council.

The current council was a power group bordering on dictatorship.

Power had been passed down for thirteen generations.

They were taming Shibjeon, using him as a hired thug.

As members of the ‘Order of the Sun,’ they left a favorable impression on the entire student body, ensnaring Shibjeon with vast funds, wielding him like a blade.

Based on this, they would pass the position to a chosen successor.

This was the secret of their tyranny.

“Emrick, get a grip. If you’re not careful, the future will be bleak. This is about crossing the Order of the Sun; it doesn’t end just because you graduate.”

Emrick understood Berndal’s alarm.

The Order of the Sun had devoured half the Empire.

To incur their wrath would mean being ensnared in their vast network, blocking any path forward—an obvious fate.

Yet, the reason for his actions was simple.

“I am merely curious how far Hessel van Tenest can go.”

Even after the Slave Revolution, Hessel’s actions had left a deep impression on Emrick.

He was at the top of his class, not only finding artifacts during practicals but also slaying the vicious beast known as the Blood Serpent.

Rumors even spoke of him hunting Bondragons.

“His path resembles what is written in the studies of kingship. No longer will he remain a king in the shadows; he will reveal his true worth to become a king in the light. That moment is approaching, Berndal.”

“Are you still reading that strange book of yours…?”

Berndal shook his head in exasperation.

Emrick glanced at the grandfather clock.

It had already been over an hour of waiting.

“But when are they coming?”

As Emrick asked, Berndal turned to the door and replied.

“Well, that’s up to them.”

* * *

Clank.

The door swung open after thirty minutes had passed.

One by one, the ten from the seventh division began to enter.

Emerick scrutinized each of their faces.

Yet, they all passed over him and Berndal as if they were nothing more than the dirt beneath their feet.

‘Those b*stards. It seems the lines are still drawn.’

They had long believed that anyone below the seventh division was merely another ten, unworthy of distinction.

Moreover, having just returned from the field, chosen by the active members, they were in a state of inflated pride, more so than usual.

Inside, they were likely sneering, thinking, ‘They must be stuck doing menial tasks like dorm representatives because they lack the skill.’

Emerick turned his gaze to the representative of the highest seat, Kerdel of the first division.

A man with wavy brown hair and thick eyebrows.

As always, his gaze was heavy, dripping with arrogance.

Kerdel frowned, displeased, and spoke.

“One of them is missing.”

As he said, the ninth division had not arrived. Berndal explained.

“He’s always busy working under the professors.”

“Out doing some menial task again today, is he? Well, that’s fine. So, what’s the reason for this gathering?”

“Well, Emerick has taken his place, so we should at least extend a simple welcome, shouldn’t we?”

As Berndal spoke, the sound of mocking laughter echoed from the others.

Though Meldon, a second-year, was still a senior and didn’t openly show it, the corners of his mouth, hidden by his hand, were clearly lifted in a smirk.

Kerdel silenced the room with a mere gesture.

“So, you called us here just for a single seat in the tenth division. Ah, well. A welcome is in order. Congratulations, Emerick, on finally reaching this position as a third-year.”

He clapped half-heartedly, the applause lacking any warmth.

Clap. Clap.

Emerick felt a deep discomfort from their blatant disdain, but he did not let it show.

“Thank you for your kind words.”

The others, as if they had finished their duty, turned their attention away from Emerick and began chattering among themselves.

“Oh, but seniors. Hursel von Tenest, that guy. Isn’t it about time we did something about him? Just look at how the professors dote on him for bringing back some artifacts. He’s become so full of himself, he doesn’t know his place anymore.”

As the only second-year present, Meldon broke the ice, and words spilled forth like a dam bursting.

“Damn it, I’m still getting hazed because of that guy.”

“Right. I received a letter from my brother too. He asked what trouble I had gotten into, and he even threatened to kill me when we meet.”

Emerick, who had been listening, was taken aback.

They were merely sulking over a little reprimand from Rockefeller.

Given that they had the audacity to spout such nonsense to an elder, shouldn’t they be grateful it ended at that?

‘Are they truly unaware? If the elder hadn’t shown leniency, they would have faced execution…’

There is a limit to how foolish one can be.

Yet, the more devoid of sense they are, the easier things become.

“…”

Emerick exchanged glances with Berndal.

At that, Berndal grinned and fanned the flames.

“You seem quite dissatisfied, so why not let me take care of it?”

Kendell shot him a sharp look, his eyes brimming with discontent.

“Berndal, while we were away, why did you leave that one unattended? Maintaining order was supposed to be your job.”

“Well, I was busy, you see. There’s a first-year named Riamon who’s been eyeing my position.”

Kendell let out a deep sigh.

“Struggling against a mere first-year? Truly, you’re tarnishing the name of the Tenth.”

Berndal gritted his teeth in frustration, but this was a good turn of events.

If they couldn’t intervene, then those fools would have no choice but to step in.

Kendell turned to Meldon, a second-year student.

“Well, fine. Then Meldon, you handle it.”

“Oh, really? Thank you, senior! I’ve been wanting to take care of this myself. Hehe.”

With the corners of Berndal’s mouth slightly lifted, it seemed he was silently celebrating.

Emerick felt a flicker of satisfaction as well. A confrontation had been established.

‘Watching their arrogance crumble will be quite entertaining.’

Thus, the war with the Tenth began, opening its gates.