1 Second Invincibility in the Game-Chapter 213

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The accumulated snow had frozen solid.

While signs of spring might be visible elsewhere, the snow here showed no signs of melting.

There were no delays in construction due to this.

Despite the slippery ground and misty breath, the students’ backs were as wet as in summer.

This could easily lead to accidents, but in this world, slaves called prisoners, aura, and magic exist.

Dangerous tasks are usually the responsibility of prisoners, who are whipped and forced to shed tears.

Thanks to their service, the good students are assigned relatively safe tasks, but the smooth, ice-like ground remains deadly.

However, if there’s even a slight chance of falling, they quickly use their aura to balance or magically avert the crisis.

At first, there were many mistakes, and it seemed like they were always on edge, prepared for the worst.

Maybe they’ve become more relaxed now.

Usually, they have a leisurely expression and only use their skills reflexively when necessary.

Donatan found this interesting and remarked with admiration, ‘It’s like breathing without thinking.’

‘What is?’

‘The simple movements are imbued with aura. They probably aren’t even aware of it.’

Thanks to his frequent comments, I’ve caught on to what he means.

‘Is it similar to holding a spoon?’

‘A spoon?’

‘Yes, a spoon.’

Picking up a spoon involves placing your hand on a spoon on the table.

Then, all you do is squeeze your grip to pick it up.

Such simple actions might seem trivial, but they involve many unconscious processes.

‘To pick up a spoon, you need to perceive the object. You focus your eyes, estimate the distance, and adjust the angle of your arm and wrist. Precise hand movements are also required to accurately grasp a curved handle.’

In essence, this action requires the precision of a delicate machine.

If you hold it too weakly, it slips; too strongly, and it springs away; if the position is off, you might not be able to pick it up at all.

Surely there were moments of conscious effort when you first learned.

Gradually, these actions become second nature, encapsulated by the simple phrase, ‘picking up a spoon,’ before they are fully established.

‘Perhaps aura and magic have started to blend into everyday life…’

It’s hard to say if this is a good sign. By incorporating major events early, they have raised their average combat capabilities, and this continues.

It feels a bit ambiguous, but let’s think of it as a good thing.

***

The priority for construction was undoubtedly the principal’s office.

Though lower than before, the height was enough to offer a clear view of the academy.

Rockefeller had to admit it after seeing the inside of the principal’s office.

“These guys, maybe they’ve found their true calling.”

The neatly wallpapered floor and the intricately carved furniture seemed as if left to professionals, hardly believable as the work of students.

Of course, the high-skill tasks were led by students from related clubs, but the overall quality shows that ordinary students also played their part well.

“I’m not sure if I should like this.”

Rockefeller gauged Arkandric’s reaction.

He seemed pleased.

“Ha, even if they are stripped of their noble titles, they won’t starve anywhere.”

“Even though the quality is lower compared to other academies, they are more than capable for such work.”

Laboring knights and magicians—a combination unheard of.

“There might be such career paths, but what I’m saying is that they are becoming suitable to work for decent households.”

At Arkandric’s words, Rockefeller scrutinized the students with a discerning eye.

Although they were doing construction work, their actions seemed like part of their training.

“Interesting.”

Rockefeller shifted his gaze from the knight division to the magic division alone.

While the knights were also noticeable, his interest inevitably gravitated towards the magic division, belonging to the same occupational group.

To create a foundation for stepping, they cast earth magic, and measurements needing tools were made through visualization magic.

Creating a virtual ruler adjusted to the necessary width is a task that demands accuracy.

It was naturally beneficial for increasing precision when drawing magical symbols.

“Normalizing magic for everyday use is indeed an important virtue for a magician, but to develop it through labor…?”

Rockefeller had also practiced psychokinesis to play multiple instruments at once for leisure, but it was mostly for training.

It was a very tiring task, and the training aspect was more significant.

Without the motivation of a hobby, he might have given up halfway.

“Hmm.”

Rockefeller looked somewhat perplexed.

Perhaps he thought they were enjoying the labor, as the workers’ faces seemed bright.

Wiping the sweat dripping down their faces with a towel appeared to give them a sense of achievement.

When Rockefeller remembered what Frost Heart was supposed to cultivate, he felt a shiver.

“It’s a bit scary. Could this turn into a worker training center?”

“It’ll be fine. Once the construction ends, it’ll return to its original track.”

Arkandric took a sip of his tea.

After a while of silently looking out the window, he smiled slightly.

“Besides, I’m looking forward to the team competitions.”

The integrated duels were a large-scale event.

Not just the elite teams but all freshmen and sophomores participated in this massive battleground.

Nobles scouted promising talents to bring to their households, and students used the opportunity to increase their own worth.

“There will be many nobles eyeing Frost Heart.”

Rockefeller smiled bitterly.

“According to the rules, they won’t go to another academy, except for a privileged few. Most of them are destined to become Pathfinders.”

“Now that sounds a bit old-fashioned. You’ve noticed, haven’t you? Change is coming.”

At Arkandric’s words, the smile vanished from Rockefeller’s face.

Pathfinder had long been recognized as a key institution.

Thanks to this, nobles within the empire had been clamoring for a share of the treasures emerging from the demonic realm.

“This time, even His Majesty might have no choice.”

Perhaps the Pathfinder, which had monopolized the magic boundaries beyond the Purple Forest, would remain only as a core managing body, with the noble families leading the explorations.

The flow was changing.

“While the value of Frost Heart might rise, I’m not particularly fond of it. Where flies swarm, disorder follows.”

Arkandric set down his teacup and chuckled lightly.

“Oh, I might have been too solemn.”

After a pause, Arkandric changed the subject.

“Ah, right. Almost forgot to ask. Is everything ready for the graduation ceremony?”

Rockefeller sighed faintly and responded to his question.

“It’s more modest than before, but all formalities are in place.”

“Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle, time flies when you sit here. It’s already their graduation. So, who’s giving the speech?”

Rockefeller hesitated for a moment before quietly mentioning a name.

“…Kerndel.”

Arkandric’s expression turned indifferent.

***

As if by appointment, a large crowd had gathered at the parade ground.

It was to be expected.

This was an event scheduled before graduation.

“Go, Ricks!”

Nearby, Magdal was fervently cheering for Ricks, who was struggling in the dueling arena.

It had been a while since Ricks surpassed his own skills, so it might have been disheartening, but he seemed genuinely supportive, having grown fond of Ricks.

Meanwhile, Athera was busy gambling, hoping to make a big score before graduation, chattering away.

When the recent currency crisis was mentioned, pointing out the dropped trust in currency, she replied that she might regain it someday, setting up the game with the mindset of planting tree seeds in the ground.

Well, if things go as Athera hopes, the coins she holds might be exchanged for imperial currency after graduation.

“But it’s a bit unexpected. I never thought Ricks would choose Emeric.”

“What’s unexpected? Oh, you weren’t around during the revolution. Back then, Emeric beat Magdal, and Ricks also lost. He’s trying to settle that old score now.”

Now I understood why, occasionally, Emeric’s eyes sparkled when he looked at him.

It was probably the habit of a hunter contemplating whether to appoint Emeric as the next Magdal.

Imagining Ricks leading a legion to ambush Emeric during his sleep or meals made me chuckle.

It would have been nice if these demons could destroy each other.

I observed Ricks’s condition.

His robe was in tatters, and his skin was covered with minor cuts.

The past three months of rigorous training by Dorosian proved his disheveled appearance.

Above all, his expression, as if he had transcended emotions and become a mechanical entity, really appealed to me.

Ricks silently drew his staff, and Emeric spoke.

“Looks like you’ve undergone harsh training. Definitely different from your novice days.”

Ricks calmly exhaled and replied.

“Senior Emeric, don’t worry. As promised, if I win, I will immediately transfer my position to you so you can graduate as a Ten Elite.”

“…You’ve gotten a bit cheeky.”

Emeric positioned himself and charged at Ricks like an arrow.

“I haven’t been idle either! Ricks Don Orion!”

Emeric darted in a zigzag pattern to avoid five white spiky balls that had appeared in the air.

“Think these can stop me?”

Like a snake, Emeric maneuvered through the gaps between the roughly 50-centimeter-wide spiky balls. Meanwhile, Ricks seemed uninterested in controlling the spiky balls, focusing instead on drawing a new spell with his staff.

At that moment, as they closed in on each other.

Thump!

A spiky ball embedded itself in Emeric’s back.

From a distance, I could see clearly why this had happened.

The spiky balls seemed to move as if they had a mind of their own—five of them, not just one.

***

“It’s elemental magic, isn’t it? Has he awakened his senses?”

If he was just awakening, it would typically be just one. However, under Ricks’s control, there were five. He must have duplicated the appearance of the elementals using his specialization in visualization magic.

Someone responded to my comment, which was more of an exclamation than a question.

“That’s right. He had to feel the mana through his skin, poking it with needles.”

Of course, only Dorosian would make such a chilling remark.

“…That’s a brutal method. But it’s surprising that it works?”

“Not just anyone can do it. The needles filled with mana had to be precisely maneuvered inside his body.”

Listening to Dorosian, I thought Ricks might have died if something had gone slightly wrong.

…I mean, stimulating the nervous system is risky; a slight mistake could have been fatal.

“But he, just five? All my hard work seems trivial.”

Dorosian’s slightly irritated tone caused Ricks’s body to stiffen.

Clearly, his face was stricken with fear.

Dorosian, displeased with Ricks’s reaction, scolded him in a low voice.

“Why are you getting distracted during combat?”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Ricks hurriedly shifted his gaze and glared at Emeric.

Emeric, who had been observing, resumed his combat stance.

“This is as far as my leniency goes. If you expose another weakness, I will attack without hesitation.”

“Cough, my apologies.”

Emeric finally pulled the spiky ball from his back, which he could have removed earlier but chose to do so now.

A few minutes later, the result was Ricks’s victory.

Emeric was out of bounds.

The lead-up was simple.

Ricks had distracted Emeric with the spiky balls and then soaked the duel arena’s floor with elemental magic, laying down a mat with visualization magic to disrupt his stance.

While Emeric handled this easily, it definitely reduced his mobility.

Then, using the essence of visualization magic, Ricks dropped a giant metal ball using gravity to force Emeric out of the arena.

The fight seemed to have many similarities to Dorosian’s style, but Ricks’s own style was still intact.

And the outcomes of the subsequent fights were the same. The main characters prospered, and those who were full tens continued to lose.

Mircel and Erucel weren’t even challenged, so there was no need for them to appear in the arena.

As the battle in Bellman ended, the last challenger, Kerndel, appeared.

The person approaching him was Riamon.

Watching the scene unfold, I truly realized that they were graduating.

It was a close match, but Riamon won, and Kerndel, with a bitter look, retreated from his position.

“Did you grow fond of him? I’m a bit sad I won’t see that stupid face anymore.”

“Ah, Kerndel? It will be a pity to lose someone so fun to toy with.”

Perhaps Dorosian’s words were sincere.

Going to the council room to corner him was perfect for stress relief.

I intended to observe Kerndel’s finale with a favorable view.

But Riamon’s condition seemed a bit strange.

…Why is there light coming from his greatsword?

To read Chapters ahead 👇

CH 211-215 (Graduation) $3

CH 216-220 (Integrated Academy Tournament) $3

CH 221-225 (The Underdog) $3

CH 226-230 (Who am I?) $3

CH 231-235 (Frostheart Vs Wisdom) $3

CH 236-240 (I want to lose) $3

CH 241-245 (Finals) $3

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