1 Second Invincibility in the Game-Chapter 241

The Aizen Arena is peaceful today as well.

Since there’s still time until the finals, the audience that used to boo at me like monkeys throwing banana peels has vanished.

Thanks to that, I could spend some quiet time thinking about the future Dorosian.

“Hmm.”

At the very least, she’s not an enemy.

That fact puts me in quite a tricky position.

Because from my perspective, that woman is the kidnapper who dragged me to Asares.

On top of that, she even threw me into a hellish environment by putting me into the body of a scoundrel who should’ve been dead—clearly a premeditated act of murder.

And yet, I have no choice but to consider her an ally because her goal is so clear.

Her methods might have been a bit sociopathic, but her job was to prevent destruction, and I was forced to join in just to survive.

Still, thinking about it again makes me so angry I want to lose my mind.

But framing it this way helps calm me down a little.

Maybe her chaotic actions were just steps toward achieving what she wanted.

And yet, I get angry again when I think about the one thing I still don’t understand.

I get wanting to change the storyline drastically to reach a different ending, but why did she have to drag me into it?

Why me, out of all people?

And whether it was given to me on purpose or I got it for some other reason, I still don’t understand why someone would go through all that trouble just for someone with a measly “one-second invincibility.”

This was the only thing she ever said that might have been a clue:

—You’re not just some pawn. Maybe you haven’t had a choice until now, but someday, you will. Just believe that much.

So apparently, this “one-second invincibility” skill is meant to become important at some point.

And choice, huh...

I don’t know exactly what that means, but it definitely implies it’ll work in my favor.

To clear my tangled mind, I shook the empty glass in front of Selli.

“One more.”

“...We’re out of ice.”

“Go get more.”

“Ugh, it’s really far from here to the kitchen though...”

“Good, you need the exercise. You’ve been slacking off lately. Have you gained weight?”

“I—I have not! I just grew a bit from getting older!”

When hit with that brutal truth, Selli, who’d been making excuses, turned to glance back at me with a sharp glare before walking toward the door.

“But young master, aren’t you a mage? Can’t you just make your own ice?”

“If I could, I would’ve. But I’d rather drink that than ice you made—I don’t trust what weird stuff you might pull.”

“F-fine, I’ll go get it.”

Selli quickly hid her dumbfounded expression and left the room.

A quiet voice slipped in through the door crack.

“No way someone like that beat Wisdom... ridiculous.”

“This door is thin. I can hear everything.”

clatter clatter —her footsteps sped up.

Fifteen minutes passed.

I heard a knock and told them to come in.

But instead of Selli, someone even more unpleasant to look at barged in with urgency.

“Ricks...”

“Hersel, we’ve got a problem. You need to come to the lobby, now.”

I swallowed down the words I wanted to say—“That’s a big problem, alright. I’ll have to see more people I hate if I go to the lobby.”

And also this one:

“Why should I?”

Nope, failed to swallow that one.

“I know I’m interrupting your break, but I’m serious. There’s a fight.”

A fight?

That actually sounds interesting.

“Between who?”

“Silla and Saila.”

Not surprising.

It’s something that’s been brewing ever since the match with Valient was set.

Well then, maybe I’ll go take a look since I’ve got nothing better to do.

I mean, it’s not like they’re pulling each other’s hair or anything, right?

Just as I stood up, the door opened.

Selli entered with the ice.

Noticing I was about to leave, she looked confused.

“Huh? Young master, where are you going?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what about the ice?”

“I’ll drink it later.”

“But it’ll melt...”

I gave her a playful smile and said,

“You can just bring more.”

As I closed the door, I heard her satisfied mumble through the crack.

“Ugh, seriously.”

“This door’s thin. I told you I can hear everything.”

“Ahem.”

As we turned toward the lobby, Ricks spoke.

“You and your maid sure have fun, huh?”

“She’s a brat, but teasing her is kind of fun.”

I still haven’t forgiven her for trying to kill me.

***

“You rude little witch. Who started picking a fight in the first place?!”

“Your foul mouth hasn’t changed, Silla.”

Right in the middle of the lobby, Selberton was holding Saila’s arms, while Leana was pulling Silla back.

Blood was dripping from the sisters’ noses.

Since I could see the magic barrier set up between the two—suggesting prior physical contact—I turned to Bellman and asked,

“What started this?”

“Saila said something like, ‘Still the same height, huh?’ as a greeting.”

“Yep, definitely touched a nerve she shouldn’t have.”

Maybe the commotion was too loud.

The Valient group started showing up at the lobby one by one.

They all gave us disgusted looks, then calmed Saila down.

As the distance between them widened, Silla seemed to cool down a bit too.

Bellman, still flustered, thanked them.

“Thanks for coming. She made the first move, so I apologize for that.”

Then the guy with glasses on their side snapped back.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Hm?”

“It’s annoying that you think you’re on our level.”

Bellman didn’t look too pleased either.

“Do you have a problem with facing us in the finals?”

“I know what’s going on. You guys just got lucky to get here. We were supposed to fight Wisdom as planned.”

Tension rose between the two.

“But they lost to us. That’s the result.”

“What meaning is there in a win earned through luck? All of you barely scraped by. The one who lost got crushed, and the ones who won only barely pulled it off. That guy with the bow? He only won because of some ridiculous tool.”

“Watch your mouth. Don’t talk about my brother.”

Selberton stepped in to break the tension, but Glasses still didn’t stop.

“If Wisdom had received the right potions, you wouldn’t be here. No way.”

Our glasses guy kept his mouth shut.

It probably stung, but the other glasses guy wasn’t wrong.

Our mages went into battle with high-end potions, while Wisdom, even without such boosts, fought almost evenly and still lost.

So we have to accept reality and admit they might’ve had the upper hand...

“Especially that blond guy you all treat like your leader—he’s the biggest problem.”

Huh?

“It’s already ridiculous enough that he’s a swordsman who joined the magic division, but taking on a mage’s role while using spells that don’t even meet the basics? I’m honestly speechless.”

Bellman shot back with a sharp tone.

“Lilot gave it her all. Are you saying you object to Hersel winning regardless?”

“I get what you’re trying to say. Sure, he won using some creative strategy. So what? Tricks like that only work once. They’re one-and-done. So let me ask you this—if your captain were to fight Lilot again, are you confident he’d win?”

Bellman looked away.

So did Leana and Silla.

Ricks, who had at least kept eye contact out of loyalty, gave up after three seconds.

What a bunch of annoying people.

They love hyping things up when it doesn’t matter, but now they’re suddenly silent.

So I answered in their place.

“If there’s a rematch, I’d probably win again.”

The glasses guy scoffed.

His buddies behind him looked at me like I was a joke.

So I hit them with a truth they couldn’t argue against.

“Then let me ask you—if this wasn’t a match but a real battle, would you still say that with a straight face?”

Even without adding, "As a swordsman, not a mage," the way their throats clicked as they swallowed said enough.

I nearly burst into laughter.

That line might’ve sounded like nothing but bluff before, but now, it wasn’t.

Now that I knew how to use “Jingi” and that even the cost—death—could be canceled out by “one-second invincibility,” I was confident I could take on every single one of them here and win.

Of course, the downside is that if I use Jingi all at once, I’ll collapse right after.

But I figure if I pace myself, I can manage.

Whatever I lacked could be filled in with magical tricks anyway.

They walked away.

I stared blankly at their backs and suddenly started thinking again about the meaning of “invincibility.”

Invincible.

If you stick to the original meaning, it doesn’t mean you can take any hit without flinching—it means you have no enemy.

And I was getting closer and closer to the essence of that phrase—“one-second invincible.”

***

A short distance from the Aizen Arena, there was an open clearing.

Ares sat at the center, radiating aura.

His daily training.

Just as a drop of sweat formed from his intense focus, he sensed a presence from afar.

‘Here it comes. Fast.’

Something faster than the wind was barreling toward him—it was a feeling he could sense through his skin.

He tilted his head slightly just as a small rock on the ground grazed a single strand of his hair.

And when he opened his eyes, a thunderous boom accompanied the arrival of a familiar young boy he had seen before.

“Here to bother me again?”

Mircel scoffed.

“You’re flaring up your aura like crazy—how could I not come?”

Ares sighed.

“Do you have some kind of inferiority complex toward me?”

“Huh?”

“If I had to guess what’s fueling your hostility, I wouldn’t say it’s a desire to challenge the strong. If that were the case, you would’ve been going after your older brother, not me. And if you insist it’s about rivalry, well, that just sounds like an excuse not to fight your family.”

Mircel let out a small grunt.

“In the end, they’re all just excuses.”

Then he went silent and looked upward.

He seemed to be deep in thought.

Ares waited for a moment, but Mircel only let out a groan, as if even he didn’t fully understand his own feelings.

‘When he’s like this, he really does just seem like a kid.’

That contrast with his usual deadly glare left a bit of an impression—but Ares quickly lost interest. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

“If you’re going to think, do it somewhere else.”

Just as he was about to move away himself, Mircel opened his mouth.

“I dunno? I just don’t want to fight my oldest brother. But I don’t think it’s about family love or being scared either. Maybe it’s... because he feels more like Dad?”

“Hm?”

“You know... he feels so far above me that I can’t even think of him as a rival.”

Ares opened his eyes and stared at Mircel.

“You’re saying Hersel Ben Tenest is on the same level as the Grand Duke?”

“Not saying—I saw it. With my own two eyes.”

Judging by the sincerity in his gaze, it didn’t seem like some immature excuse.

‘I thought maybe he’d just misjudged, but if he really didn’t have the eye for it, that would’ve been exposed by now. Considering the kid’s level, that must’ve been a legitimate assessment.’

That made it even harder to understand.

“Then why’d you pick me? And why did Hersel Ben Tenest allow it?”

“What’s with that reaction? You saying I’m not in your league or something?”

“I’m saying you’re not ready to be seen as a rival.”

“Your brother probably thought the same about you. See? Now you get where I’m coming from?”

Ares gave a tired smile at the provocation.

“You really are under a strange impression. Like we’ve got something in common. But I don’t think that at all.”

It wasn’t because he was annoyed by Mircel lingering around.

It was because Mircel seemed to think they were similar—and Ares wanted to make one thing perfectly clear.

“From the moment I first held a sword, nothing has ever stood in my way.”

‘If something was there, it was only ever something I noticed after I’d already broken through it. That’s hardly what I’d even call an obstacle. If I had to rephrase, it would be something more like a faint breeze.’

A breeze that briefly lingers in front of you, but vanishes the moment you take a step forward.

“For someone like me, there’s never been another ‘me.’ I’ve never had a real rival. So I can’t even begin to understand the kind of feelings you’re having—because I’ve never had someone I felt I had to beat.”

“......”

“That might’ve sounded harsh, but I don’t mean it maliciously. Honestly, I think within three years—maybe even two—you’ll be standing on the same level as me. And then, maybe I’ll feel that kind of rivalry, too.”

Mircel, who had just been listening until now, suddenly said, “Ah.”

“Now I get it.”

“Hm?”

“I finally figured out what’s been driving me. Why I keep coming after you.”

“You’ve found your motivation?”

Mircel nodded with an adorably smug face.

“Yeah. I just find you annoying. You know why? You look like someone I could totally beat—but that look in your eyes, like you’re always looking down on me? I can’t stand it.”

Ares let out a small laugh without meaning to.

Such blunt words from such an innocent face.

That pure stubbornness to oppose him no matter what was oddly amusing.

“Well, at least you’re honest.”

Ares picked up the towel draped around his neck, just like last time.

“Well then, this towel here—”

“Already took it.”

Mircel replied, holding up the very towel in his hand.

‘He’s grown again, huh?’

But it was only half the towel—ripped.

Ares wiped his sweat with the other half and said,

“Next time, wait till I finish talking.”