Chapter 37: The Obscure Reality (2)
Chapter 37: The Obscure Reality (2)
The new generation of wizards and warriors worked within a different structure to how things were done traditionally. As monsters manifested and the fortified civilization blossomed, trained warriors rose through the ranks to reach the position of absolute power. The seniors of the swordsmanship department offered these instructions to the first-year students:
“You must strengthen the bonds between warrior and wizard in the joint class. You are equals now, but you will be far superior as soon as you step out of education and into society. You have a privileged starting point compared to the magical students.”
The early days of the joint class were prosperous. It was extremely useful for laying the groundwork so that students knew what to expect from a hunt. They could learn the team dynamic and adapt to their role within that. However, as the divisions between the two departments grew, it became a vastly different experience. For the swordsmanship students, the joint classes were little more than a way to assert their dominance, reinforcing the difference between physical ability and magic so that they could realize the position of Eul.
Lee Jang-hoo’s expression hardened. There was nothing to refute from Kang Min-hyuk’s analysis.
The party reacted as though Kang Min-hyuk had taught them nothing they didn’t already know. They had no idea. Due to dungeon training’s impulsive arrangement, nobody had time to research its contents, so lizard-men was a relatively new team concept. However, they were known to be a fairly simple opponent. None of the warriors had considered how they would work with the wizard – they were unsure of the role that he would take. Usually, as soon as the blue aura burst from the sword, a wizard’s role was dispensable.
The first-year swordsmen and sorcerers were the same age and applied the same effort to their studies. They grew up similarly; the only difference lay in the paths they chose. Kang Min-hyuk, however, was different. The overlap he’d experienced due to his background in Suhomun meant he’d tasted both worlds. He wasn’t surprised by the way Lee Jang-hoo and his party reacted to him; he’d seen the same look countless times before.
As the successor to Suhomun, he’d dealt with many monsters, not just lizard-men, but a great variety of opponents. He learned quickly about these monsters’ characteristics and how to attack them to achieve the greatest level of injury. He spoke,
“I understand why you don’t like me. I put down my sword despite my background – it’s unusual, I know. The easy way isn’t always the best way – the route I chose is harder, but it’s mine. I know what this class means to you, and I know I’m not what you expected from a wizard, but that’s not a reason to sacrifice your grades.”
All three of their expressions fluttered.
“Score,”
Min-hyuk thought to himself. They needed to understand. The swordsmanship department had many students compared to the magic department, and the mainstream competition was fierce. Jang-hoo was naturally hoping to stand out amongst the mass of reinforced warriors he studied alongside and wanted to achieve high scores in the joint class.
Kang Min-hyuk’s final point articulated that. It was stupid to give up an effective strategy just to reject a wizard.
“What do we do..?”
The party looked back and forth at each other. The method Kang Min-hyuk suggested was attractive. If Min-hyuk began the attack by burning the lizard-men’s slime, the hunting time would be drastically reduced, even if it didn’t strike a vital spot. Getting a good grade in the hunting class would ensure a significantly greater chance of dominating the fierce competition. The warriors were struggling with a conflict between pride and practicality.
They didn’t like Kang Min-hyuk’s presence, but that wasn’t a good enough reason to give up.
“Just do as Kang Min-hyuk said. If we actively use fire magic, we could clear the dungeon quickly. This is one challenge – there’s a lot more to be faced in the future, so let’s just get on with it!”
Jae-seong’s remarks caused a stir.
Lee Jang-hoo’s expression softened a little, the stubbornness gradually easing from his face.
“You’re right. Let’s do it.”
They had only been in the dungeon for about ten minutes, and they’d unexpectedly accepted Kang Min-hyuk as part of their party.
* * *
Things had changed. With the active presence of Kang Min-hyuk, the hunting speed was drastically faster.
“Fireball!”
Pop! BBBRRRRR.
After the magic was unleashed, Jang-hoo and his party rushed toward the lizard-men, who screamed and resisted with intense violence even as their skin burnt to mucus, unable to withstand the aura. The lizard-men each collapsed in turn, their flesh falling like sliced tofu.
“Lightning!”
Kang Min-hyuk supported the party as needed, always acting in the perfect moment. He was by no means the protagonist, but he was an integral cogwheel in the machine. At one point, he raised his hand,
“Wait!”
He looked at the floor. Traces of escaped lizard-men were scattered all about. Excessive mucus had dripped to the ground in puddles so thick that their feet got stuck. Min-hyuk meticulously analyzed the texture, color, and amount of slime before sharing his thoughts with the others,
“A massive number of lizard-men have escaped through here…when a lizard-man’s relative begins to molt, at least three more protect their surroundings. With these traces of molting and the mass of mucus, there’s a high probability that we’ll come across a group of at least twenty lizard-men.”
“Are you sure? I don’t sense anything…”
Replied Jang-hoo.
Lee Jang-hoo had developed his five senses to the standards you would expect from a fortified warrior. Because he could neither see nor hear the creatures, he couldn’t accept Min-hyuk’s observation. Kang Min-hyuk responded,
“If you can give me a logical reason for your disbelief in my knowledge, I will be happy to follow you without a word. But if you just want to deny it, think again. The difference between being prepared and unprepared could cost lives.”
They decided to advance with caution, checking their surroundings as they went. In the depths of darkness, a situation did indeed arise. Lizard-men, who had sunk into the shadows, beyond the reach of torchlight, leaped out simultaneously as soon as they heard their approach.
“Whoah. Kang Min-hyuk was right!”
From then on, their faith in the wizard strengthened.
* * *
During a short break, Jang-hoo wiped clean his sword and glanced over at Kang Min-hyuk.
“Why did you give up? Suhomun, I mean.”
It was a mystery Kang Min-hyuk was yet to speak of. Some say that he didn’t suit the successor’s role, but that wasn’t strictly true. However, those in his age-range remembered his ability in the martial arts contest in which fortified warriors from all over the country participated, and Kang Min-hyuk destroyed them all with his swordsmanship skills alone. The fact that he was so skilled in his original role made his departure from it even more shocking. He was stigmatized as a traitor, and while it hurt, it also caused his perception of the mainstream world to change.
Although his chosen path is one of obscurity, Kang Min-hyuk’s presence shone brightly.
“In the end, that’s an answer you will find for yourself.”
That was all. They spoke no more upon the matter. Jang-hoo rose to his feet and said in a determined voice,
“Let’s finish it now.”
The joint class wasn’t a student-friendly system. It could be extremely dangerous to drive students into dungeons, but the Academy had not devised a safe countermeasure. In the event of an accident, a security team was put into place, but students were often injured or even killed while they waited for help. Nobody speaks of it. In a world haunted by monsters, death was a simple fact of life—the joint class endeavors to train students into hunters by highlighting this cold, stark reality.
As they reached the penultimate chamber, just before they were to face the final boss, Kang Min-hyuk said,
“I estimate about twenty lizard-men in front. If you remember what the professor told us about this dungeon, we should expect C-class lizard-men warriors. How will we do it? There are two options: hit them from the front or use the terrain to our advantage.”
Most people chose the latter option. It prolongs the time of a hunt dramatically, but it is the safer route. C-class monsters were all but immune to second-circle magic. Their slime is unaffected by fireballs, so they must be taken by force. However, the party chose the former – the quicker, more dangerous option to face the monsters head-on. It was risky, but they soon proved themselves to be up to the challenge by slaughtering the first wave of lizard-men.
The battle was ferocious. Even though Jang-hoo was dealing with six creatures by himself, he showed expertise and never faltered, amputating limbs as the aura from his sword flashed through the air. With Kang Min-hyuk’s help, they conquered everyone. Lee Jang-hoo was drenched in the dark green blood of a lizard-men whose neck he had slashed; he looked to Kang Min-hyuk and said,
“I had a hard time.”
Kang Min-hyuk laughed bitterly in response.
It seemed impossible for twenty or more lizard-men to be defeated by only four individuals. Even a third-circle wizard, who would be recognized for his abilities, couldn’t be certain of victory in such a situation. The impressive input of Kang Min-hyuk suggested that Lee Jang-hoo must have been a distinctly average swordsman.
* * *
When the party left the dungeon, Kim Moo-jin looked at them with astonishment.
“It took you forty minutes to clear the dungeon! That’s the fastest so far!”
Jang-hoo Lee, Jae-Sung Ceramic, and Jang-yong Yang were just children in the department of swordsmanship – Kim Moo-jin knew this, so when they set the new record, his gaze naturally turned to Kang Min-hyuk.
The difficulty of the dungeon meant that students were expected to take approximately an hour to clear it. Jang-hoo and the party managed to shave twenty whole minutes off that. Not long after, the party containing the elite students of swordsmanship cleared the dungeon, too, taking 45 minutes to do so. The achievement of Jang-hoo and the party was great.
As the parties left, they each took a break, gathering three-to-three, brushing off mucus from their clothes and skin, and catching their breath. While this was happening, an accident occurred. Several students were injured in the dungeon, and although nobody died, exploration was postponed because a security team was required. When an hour had passed, the team that was exploring the dungeon began to appear, one after the other. The last party took about an hour and a half to attack the dungeon successfully.
Kim Moo-jin stepped forward and spoke to the struggling students,
“This was a big challenge for you all, and each of you has suffered. We are fortunate to have completed the training without a single fatality. However, this isn’t necessarily worth praise – more than half of the teams exceeded the allocated time-limit of an hour. Some even spent an hour and a half down there. That’s not what a hunter is made of. There are a lot of hunters in the world, and there is a lot of competition. Unskilled hunters die every single day, in dark, hidden places. Those of you who do not have the skills required for this role has no future in it.”
His voice was icy as he glanced at the assistants standing next to him, who began to assemble a large screen.
When the screen was in a position for everyone to see, Kim Moo-jin continued,
“Now, we’ll watch the videos of the dungeon exploration from those who came first and last. This will hopefully give you an idea of what you should do and what you should definitely not. The knowledge you gain from this could be a lifeline in the cold of the outside world.
Pop
The screen flicked on, revealing the last team first, who took an hour and a half.