I packed my belongings with mechanical efficiency.
Two changes of clothes. A bedroll. Basic toiletries. The leather-bound notebook I'd been using to document training progress and alchemical recipes.
Everything fit into a single worn travel bag that had probably belonged to someone else years ago.
The academy provided most necessities for students. This was just... the minimum to not show up completely empty-handed.
I slung the bag over my shoulder and took one last look at my room.
Small. The room of someone tolerated but not valued.
I wouldn't miss it.
I headed downstairs to the dining room where breakfast was already laid out.
Father sat at the head of the table, reading. Victor ate his meal with the same methodical efficiency he brought to everything. Cedric pushed his eggs around his plate.
I took my usual seat at the far end and served myself, porridge, some bread, fruit.
The silence was oppressive.
Victor glanced at me once, then returned to his meal without comment.
Cedric's hatred was more obvious. He stared at me with open contempt, his jaw clenched, like my mere presence ruined his appetite.
"Remember," Father said without looking up from his papers, "you represent the Raith family today. Do not embarrass us."
Not "good luck." Not "do your best."
Just a reminder that my failure would reflect poorly on him.
"Understood," I said quietly.
Father set down his correspondence and finally looked at me. His expression was cold, calculating. "The carriage will take you to the academy. The examination begins tomorrow at dawn."
"Yes, sir."
"Victor placed in the top fifteen of his year," Father continued. "Cassandra in the top five. I expect you to at least not disgrace the family name completely."
The implication was clear, he expected me to fail. Just hoped I wouldn't fail too spectacularly.
"I'll do my best," I said.
Father made a dismissive sound and returned to his papers.
Breakfast continued in silence.
When I finished, I stood, picked up my travel bag, and headed toward the entrance hall.
Father didn't look up. Victor kept eating. Cedric glared until I was out of sight.
No one said goodbye.
No one wished me luck.
Just another morning in the Raith household.
The carriage was already waiting outside, the driver checking the horses' harnesses. I climbed in without ceremony, settling into the rear-facing seat.
The door closed with a heavy thud.
Crack!
The driver snapped the reins, and we lurched into motion.
I watched the manor recede through the window, the grey stone walls, the training yard where I'd spent countless hours, the gardens that no one properly maintained anymore.
Home.
If you could call it that.
The carriage rolled down the main drive and onto the road leading away from the estate. Trees lined both sides, their autumn leaves creating a canopy of gold and red overhead.
I leaned back against the seat and pulled up my status window.
[Status]
Name: Jin Raith
Age: 17
Class: Debugger
Level: 3
EXP: 300/400
Rank: F
MC (Mana Capacity): 11/50
HP: 200/200
MP: 65/65
STR: 11
VIT: 9
INT: 45
WIS: 38
AGI: 9
LUK: 15
Allocation Points: 8
Active Skill: Debug Vision
Passive Skills: Poison Resistance (Intermediate - 67%), Social Engineering
Combat Style: Adaptive Blade Style (Basic) [Proficiency: 3.4%]
I studied the stats, my mind running calculations.
Significant improvements over eighteen months, especially the last two weeks of intensive training.
"Now that I've recovered from the poison," I muttered to myself, "regular training actually builds stats. Makes sense. The body can actually respond to stimulus instead of fighting toxins constantly."
The physical stats were still low compared to combat-trained nobles, but they were functional now. I could move properly, had actual stamina, wouldn't immediately collapse under exertion.
Combined with the Adaptive Blade Style and my high mental stats...
Maybe I had a chance.
Maybe.
I dismissed the status window and stared out the window as the landscape changed.
The manor grounds gave way to farmland, fields being harvested, farmers working in the afternoon sun. Then the farms thinned out as we entered the town proper.
The same town where the Harvest Festival had been held two weeks ago. The square looked normal now, stripped of its decorations and stalls, just another market day with merchants selling their wares.
We passed through without stopping.
The road continued beyond the town, heading east. The buildings grew sparse, replaced by dense woods that pressed close to the road on both sides.
This was the main road to the capital, where the Academy was located.
The sun climbed higher. We'd been traveling for maybe three hours now.
The forest had grown thicker, the road narrower. Fewer travelers. Just us and the occasional merchant wagon heading in the opposite direction.
I was starting to doze off, lulled by the rhythmic rocking of the carriage.
Then suddenly the carriage jerked to a sudden stop, throwing me forward against the opposite seat.
"What—!"
"Don't move!" The driver's voice came sharp with fear.
I straightened carefully and looked out the window.
Men blocked the road ahead.
Six of them, dressed in mismatched leather armor and rough clothing. All armed, swords, axes, one with a bow already nocked and aimed at our driver.
Bandits?
Of fucking course.
One of them approached the carriage, his hand resting casually on his sword hilt.
"Well, well," he called out, loud enough for me to hear clearly. "A noble's carriage, all alone out here. How convenient."
More bandits emerged from the forest on both sides of the road, cutting off any escape route.
Nine total. All armed. All looking at the carriage like it was a prize they'd just won.
The driver's voice shook. "Please, we don't have much—"
"We'll be the judge of that," the scarred man interrupted. "Now, whoever's inside that fancy carriage, come out slowly. Hands where we can see them."
I sat very still, my mind racing.
Nine armed bandits versus me, an unarmed seventeen-year-old boy with mediocre physical stats and a sword style I'd only been practicing today.
If I tried to fight them normally, I'd die. Simple as that.
But I'm not normal.
I have something they didn't.
[Debug Vision!]
Time to see if my editing abilities were actually useful in combat.
Or if I was about to die on a forest road before even reaching the academy.
Please don't be the second one.
I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and opened the carriage door.
"Alright," I said, stepping out with my hands raised.
The scarred bandit's grin widened.
"Smart boy. Now, let's see what you've got that's worth taking."
Not as much as you think. But definitely more than you're expecting.
I kept my expression neutral and started calculating angles.
Nine targets. Limited MP. Had to make every edit count.
Time to find out if a programmer's approach to combat actually worked in reality.