"There are three coming at your 9 (o'clock) right about… now."
"…"
Elize swung her sword with that heavy, serious expression of hers.
The dummy wolf, trying its very best to be scary in the dark, didn't stand a chance.
"Two more from the ceiling. Vital point: the neck."
"…Excuse me, 'instructor'."
She decapitated the two bat-shaped dummies like it was nothing.
"Ah, watch your step, there's a tile trap. On your right is a paralyzing poison launcher—you can break that."
"'Instructor,' I have a favor."
"What is it?"
"This is great and all, but can you maybe… help me instead of just giving instructions?"
"Nope."
"…"
Elize's face contorted further, then she chuckled.
"Weren't you the one who tried to beat me up the first day we met?"
"…Guilty."
"And weren't you the one who promised to apologize? That you'd do anything I ask?"
"…Yes."
"So what's the problem now?"
"…Fine. I'm sorry."
When I suggested 'getting closer,' she practically ran to this place, grinning like a lunatic.
You keep your word. That's rule number one.
"…And even if I wanted to help? Yeah, I'm about as useful as a bug. Stat-wise, I'm basically a glorified paperweight."
It would be better if I just gave orders and let her do all the fighting.
'And…'
As I wandered through this artificial dungeon, it became clear that Last Resort won't trigger unless my life is actually in danger.
Which is why it's completely useless on dummies repeating programmed moves like obedient little robots.
Lesson learned: Last Resort is not some magic cheat button. Like most things in life, it's flawed and situational.
Thinking it would bail me out in every scenario? Yeah… time to drop that delusion fast.
'Stats first, survive later.'
Stats are basically your athleticism for every situation. Personal growth is non-negotiable. Especially since the performance of items and skills is affected by them.
Elize grumbled next to me again.
"Still, the instructor has skills and could probably do better than me. With two of us, we'd finish much faster—"
[ Amazing speed! ]
[ You broke the 2-year-old record! ]
"…"
Her complaining stopped abruptly when the announcement echoed.
"No, why? How is this possible? What is happening right now?"
She looked utterly dumbfounded that she was breaking the record while following my vague instructions.
"Is that so surprising?" I thought, trying not to smirk.
"It's not surprising, it's ridiculous!"
She poured out her existential crisis.
"A mock battle is designed for two people, yet I'm just clearing it solo… and it's the top record. What the hell is this? Are you using magic? Regular knights couldn't do this, right? Right? What is happening?"
I inwardly chuckled at her meltdown.
'This is perfect.'
I gained enough experience to be considered a veteran in this game, and acquired a top-tier subordinate who moves without questioning me.
This dungeon is basically a stroll in the park for her. She could do it blindfolded.
'Hmm.'
And if you're attempting a one-man speedrun like this, it's guaranteed to draw eyes.
Sure, the rewards for clearing a mock battle are decent—but that's hardly the main point. Opportunities like this don't wait around.
So, naturally, I had to take advantage.
"What's next? Slightly harder than before. Keep it up—fighting~!"
I cheered her on. Because until then, she's doing the entire thing alone.
"…Ugh."
Elize ground her teeth so hard I half expected them to crack. Honestly, someone's jaw isn't built for this much pain—physically or mentally.
●
Evan Kramer, a second-year from the Magic Research Department, sat at the control panel, visibly sweating like someone caught in a storm.
"The mock battle setups are… really detailed now. Did the department handle this?"
"Yes, yes…!" Evan stammered, barely forming words. His panic wasn't helping. The observer next to him just smiled, clearly enjoying the chaos on the screen.
"We'll increase the budget next year," the figure added casually.
Authority oozed from him. Every movement, every tone said: don't even breathe near me unless you have clearance.
The speaker was Roderick Baltador, the Dean of the Knight School.
Directly reporting to the President, and supposedly untouchable within the academy walls. A student near him would feel like they'd been thrown into a storm fully naked.
'Why the hell is someone of his rank hanging out at a booth for freshmen?'
Evan's shoulders shook as he considered that very question.
And then another voice sliced through the room like a cold wind.
"Oh, Roderick. What are you doing here?"
If Evan thought things were tense before, this just made him lose all color in the face. The newcomer was accompanied by several pale-faced assistant professors from the Magic School, each one radiating mild panic and quiet dread.
"I could say the same to you, Percy. You rarely leave your office," Roderick replied smoothly.
"It's been a while since I came to see the freshmen. I like spotting potential talent," Percy answered, almost as if he were auditioning for Most Intimidating Presence of the Year.
I leaned back, smirking quietly in my own head. Classic academy politics. Big names showing up for small events just to flex their power and make everyone else feel tiny. Honestly, I'm just here to see how long it takes before someone spontaneously combusts from nervousness.
Roderick snorted, the kind of sound that carried both amusement and mild exasperation.
"This one's got real talent."
"Talent?"
Percy raised a brow, squinting at the screen like she might somehow see the secret formula for 'talent' hidden there.
Talent… right. From where I'm standing, it looks more like someone getting a free ride on the hero candidate's coattails.
"This is why mages who just sit around with their pens are worthless," Roderick added with a casual wave, like tossing insult confetti into the air.
"Why pick a fight now?" Percy asked, clearly not amused.
"That record? That feat? No one could hit it on their own. The real work is happening somewhere else," he said, voice dripping with that infuriating mix of authority and smugness.
"…Yes?"
Percy tilted her head, still expecting an explanation. Roderick? He didn't bother. His attention snapped right back to the screen, leaving the 'details' hanging like an afterthought.