Two days left until the Academy entrance deadline.
Reinhal wasn't far from the Central Fortress—half a day's ride on a proper transport. But "not far" meant nothing when you were broke, unregistered, and traveling with someone who didn't officially exist.
I rubbed my temples as I sat in the inn's common room, half a bowl of gray stew untouched beside me.
Across from me, Serin was bandaging her leg with practiced movements. Silent. Focused.
She hadn't asked any more questions since showing me the invitation.
That was part of what made her dangerous.
She understood what not to say.
---
> [Current Gold: 47 G]
[Academy Entrance Fee (Unregistered Transfer): 100 G minimum + Verification Pass]
[Penalty for Failure: Forced Reassignment to Manual Combat Unit OR Dungeon Forage Teams]
Recommendation: Seek Sponsor or Special Entrance Route
---
I leaned back with a sigh.
"I need a way in," I muttered.
Serin looked up. "You said you knew this game. Didn't it have side paths?"
"It did. But they weren't free."
"Then we earn it."
I raised an eyebrow. "With what combat experience? Your dagger's still in a goblin spine."
She looked mildly insulted. "I've had worse."
"…Of course you have."
But she wasn't wrong. The game had options—hidden flags, NPCs with offers that bypassed standard routes.
Problem was… most of those came with consequences.
Reputation drops. Tied favors. Secret debts.
There was one I remembered near Reinhal. A B-rank mercenary named Gavik, stationed at the outskirts. He ran a side contract for the black-market logistics of Liora's military—trafficking "unregistered talent" into the Academy.
The problem?
You had to prove your value in front of an audience.
---
Later that evening, I led Serin through the smoky back alleys of Reinhal's lower ring.
The closer we got to the underground ring, the more the town's tech-magic hybrid look crumbled into rust and rune graffiti.
We passed a man fixing a lantern with a mana crystal he sparked off his own teeth.
A child haggled with a sentient golem for scrap meat.
This place didn't follow the game's balance mechanics. It followed hunger and luck.
And luck was running out.
---
> [Hidden Area Unlocked: Reinhal Pit Arena – Unauthorized Duel Zone]
At the gate, a man looked us over.
"You the rookies Gavik's expecting?"
I nodded. "We want in."
He didn't ask for a name. Just pointed to a makeshift waiting room carved out of old transport containers.
Inside, I found Gavik.
Massive. Bald. Cybernetic eye. A burnt half-coat from the Flamefront Campaign draped over one arm.
He looked up from a bottle of liquid fire.
"You're the kid with the Academy bug, yeah?"
He tossed a coin at me. I caught it by instinct.
> [Token: Candidate Mark – One Round Entry]
"You want in? Win one match. Solo."
"Solo?" I asked.
"Rules of the pit. Your girl can't fight with a limp anyway."
I glanced at Serin. She didn't argue.
My pulse quickened. I wasn't ready for a duel—not the kind people bet on.
But Gavik grinned. "No killing. First blood or knockout. We ain't savages."
Sure.
That made me feel so much better.
---
The arena was less pit, more ruined courtyard with a crowd. Spectators lined the edge, some shouting, others murmuring. Wards flickered overhead—barely enough to contain low-grade spells.
My opponent stepped out from the other side.
A boy not much older than me. Tall, wiry. Green guild robe with a badge I recognized.
A minor noble house. One of the ones that tried to hoard spellbooks in early game lore.
This wouldn't be easy.
> [Inspecting Opponent: Elias Ven]
Class: Elemental Blade Trainee
Skillset: Wind Manipulation, Edge Pressure, Footwork Boost
Status: Confident, Underestimating You
Perfect.
---
"Ready?" the pit marshal barked.
We nodded.
A sharp clang echoed—and the match began.
Elias rushed forward, blade low.
I didn't move.
Instead, I whispered—
"Status Window: Overlay."
> [Environmental Factor: 12% Mana Residue in the air]
[Opponent's right boot loose by 2.1cm – traction reduced]
[Spellcore in his belt pouch – fragile]
[Overload Threshold: 3 hits within 15 seconds triggers caster recoil]
My eyes snapped open.
There.
He slashed—too wide.
I stepped left. Let my heel catch the uneven stone I'd seen earlier. I tumbled, deliberately, dragging my hand across the dirt—kicking dust into his face.
He blinked.
That was enough.
My fist slammed into his ribs.
The first hit staggered him, but he turned with the momentum—recovering fast.
I ducked low, grabbed his belt pouch, and yanked.
> [Spellcore Shattered: Wind Focus Lost]
[Mana Surge Detected – Recoil Imminent]
His stance crumbled as the core misfired—pushing him backward with a gust he didn't control.
I grabbed his collar and drove my knee into his stomach.
He hit the ground.
"Stop!" the marshal barked.
The crowd was silent.
Then a few laughs. Cheers. Coins changed hands.
Gavik just grunted. "You'll do."
---
Later, as Serin wrapped fresh gauze around her arm, she gave me a look.
"You planned all of that."
"No. I adapted."
She didn't smile.
But she looked… impressed.
---
> [Quest Complete: Prove Value to Gavik]
[Reward: Academy Access Papers – Special Route]
[Reputation: +10 (Underground), -5 (Noble Factions)]
> [New Trait Available: Adaptive Insight – Choose One Branch]
Cognitive Mapping
Emotional Reading
Pattern Recall
---
I didn't choose yet.
That would come after we got to the Academy.
Because tonight wasn't a win.
It was just the price of admission.