The Support Ate it All-Chapter 534: Ring of the Great Sage

I asked the question I’d thrown out before.

“Are you going to challenge it?”

“I want to, but the circumstances won’t allow it.”

The Principal gave a bitter smile.

Because even with a strategy guide, the chance of it actually happening was close to zero.

‘The people problem is the big one.’

Not one or two S-ranks—you’d have to gather as many as the dungeon’s party limit.

Most of them were core powerhouses of their respective organizations, the deterrent that kept enemies from attacking recklessly.

In other words, the moment they left their posts, their organizations were exposed.

If, by some chance, enemies took advantage and hit them while they were empty?

That damage would be irreversible—and even if they cleared an S-rank dungeon, it would break even at best, or end up a loss.

‘And it’s not even guaranteed to be a 100% clear.’

It was a dungeon so brutally difficult that there was always the possibility the party’s skill fell short of what the guide demanded.

And if they failed, they could walk away with nothing—injuries, or even deaths—in exchange.

How many S-ranks would accept that kind of risk?

For all those reasons, even people close to the Principal—hell, even his former teammates—wouldn’t find it easy to join.

So I kept going.

“Then why do you need the strategy guide?”

“There’s something I’m curious about. It won’t require the full guide.”

Fair enough. The value was way too high to hand over for a single skill demonstration.

I gave a small nod.

“Which number is it?”

“Number 6.”

No.6 Scylla.

A dungeon composed of six rooms.

The party limit was six as well.

Each room held different trials and enemies, and it lived up to its S-rank status with terrifying difficulty.

But what made this dungeon distinct was one special rule: in each room, one party member had to stay behind.

You entered the second room with five people, the third with four—

—and the moment the last remaining member stepped into the sixth room, boss monsters spawned in every room at once.

If you brought them down, you cleared.

If you couldn’t, you failed.

‘The key is who you leave behind, and when.’

Each room had its own tendencies, which meant there were classes that fit better than others.

Like how ranged types shine in places packed with flying enemies.

On paper, it sounded simple—just leave one person each time.

In reality, it wasn’t that clean.

‘Because you also have to consider party balance.’

If you left your supporter behind, you’d go in without buffs.

If you left your tank behind, you’d go in without a front line.

And if you got blindsided in that state?

What if you ran into monsters that poured out debuffs nonstop?

What if close-combat monsters surged in like a flood?

The entire run could derail.

But if you left behind the wrong person, your later survival—and your odds in the boss phases—would become uncertain.

It was a dungeon that demanded continuous, brutal decision-making.

The Principal scratched the back of his head.

“I challenged it when I was active. You’ve probably guessed by now, but it didn’t go well.”

“How far did you get?”

“We reached the boss phase, but not long after it started, two of us got taken out. We had no choice but to cut it there.”

They’d reacted fast enough to avoid deaths, but the injuries were severe enough that they needed a long recovery.

And the penalty for withdrawing mid-run had been enormous—so there was never a second attempt.

The Principal stared out the window and spoke.

“...I still don’t know where it went wrong. Back then, I thought everything was perfect.”

Two party members getting taken out was the result. The cause had to be somewhere else.

I answered calmly.

“It shouldn’t be hard for me to diagnose it. But...”

“But?”

“I’m wondering if you really want to hear it.”

It was a long time ago, and there was no chance of a reattempt.

Did we really need to dig it back up and assign fault?

It would definitely hurt the relationship.

“......”

The Principal fell silent, his face stiff.

He’d been so focused on the question itself that he hadn’t thought about what came after.

Then he let out a sigh so deep it felt like the ground might cave in.

“...Ignorance is bliss. Forget it.”

“You can ask something else. That wasn’t exactly a clean ‘question,’ was it?”

“No. At least I got closure.”

He was saying we’d count that exchange as payment.

And honestly, it probably didn’t help that his mood had soured.

The Principal stood and walked toward the door.

“Come on. I’ll show you the skill.”

It wasn’t bad for me if we could just move on smoothly, but I still wanted to say this.

“Someday, I can give you an answer. In a better way.”

“...A better way?”

Maybe it sounded like empty air, because the Principal frowned—

—but the next moment, something changed in his eyes.

He’d caught what I meant. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

I nodded.

“Someday, we’ll challenge it too.”

*****

An S-rank former hero couldn’t just show off anywhere.

You had to consider witnesses, and there was always the risk of the aftershock collapsing buildings—or reshaping terrain.

So we headed to the faculty-only training room.

It was built absurdly sturdy. Even when I’d hammered it with S-rank Inferno Fist over and over, [N O V E L I G H T] it had stayed intact.

The Principal placed me in the safe zone, then stood in the exact center.

He drew a golden holy sword and asked,

“Once is enough, right?”

“More than enough.”

“Good. Watch closely.”

He began drawing up mana.

His whole body gradually dyed itself in gold, and a resonant hum like a swarm of bees filled the room.

-HUMMMMM—!

When everything hit its peak, the Principal drove the holy sword straight down into the floor.

A golden shockwave exploded outward, sweeping through the training room.

-KRAAAASH—!

“......”

I kept my eyes on the center, silent, as the gold glare slowly faded—revealing the ruined interior.

The floor was gouged in deep, and the walls were laced with cracks.

Even so, it was already repairing itself in real time, true to a faculty training room.

The Principal casually swept his gaze across the damage and pulled the holy sword free.

“Good enough?”

“I saw it clearly. Hero effects really are something.”

“You punk. At least you recognize what’s cool.”

The Principal grinned at the obvious flattery.

As we left, he tossed one more line over his shoulder.

“I don’t know what it is, but you said it helps. Use it well.”

“Thank you.”

‘Oh, I’ll use it well.’

Just as expected, the moment the Principal flooded himself with mana, the Trait activated.

I didn’t miss the opening—and I’d already finished the Copy and the Fix.

[Using ‘Copy-Trait’.]

[Registering the target’s Trait ‘Ring of Circulation (S)’ to the slot.]

[Using ‘Fixed Pin’.]

[Fixing ‘Ring of Circulation (S)’.]

▷Copy-Trait[3/4]

(None)

Time Resistance (S)

Pain Delay

Chain Explosion (S)

[Trait]

▷Crown of the Hyun King

▷Self-Generation (S)

▷Ring of Circulation (S)

With all three Traits now mine, the combo completed—and a notification appeared.

[Acquiring ‘Ring of the Great Sage’.]

A change happened in my body immediately.

Several rings formed around my [Core], resonating with each other and supplying mana.

It felt even fuller than the first time I’d just reached A-rank.

‘Effect one is a rank bonus.’

Just like [Crown of the Hyun King], it granted bonuses to every Skill and Trait tied to mana operation.

‘Effect two is automatic mana recovery.’

Spent mana refilled on its own.

Without resting. Without refinement.

Even in the middle of combat.

It meant I’d become far stronger in extended fights.

And since it was an ungraded Trait, it shouldn’t be affected by the Fix Zone either.

And the third effect—the most important one—

‘Massive increase to mana refinement efficiency.’

More than double the previous rate. If the environment supported it—like the Special Refinement Workshop—it would be three or four times.

And if I layered in elixirs here and there, or Hidden Pieces like Poison Python Abyss?

Mana would stack at a terrifying pace.

‘Then hitting S-rank in second year isn’t impossible.’

Even if you strung Hidden Pieces together like beads, the one thing you always lacked was time.

This Trait could slash that time down drastically.

Not just for me.

For everyone.

‘Now I need to share this.’

▷Shared Trait[2/2]

Distortion

Ten-Thousand-Poison Immunity

The [Bond] slot was basically fixed for life.

But the [Shared Trait] slot could be changed at will.

‘The problem is the cooldown is insanely long.’

Not hours—weeks.

If I removed one, I’d be down a slot for a long time.

‘And there’s no real reason to pull out what’s already working.’

Distortion and Ten-Thousand-Poison Immunity were both busted Traits, on par with Ring of the Great Sage.

So instead of swapping, the smartest move was to add more slots.

‘It should be time for one to show up.’

Most likely as next week’s PvP week reward, or as a finals side quest reward.

Once the slot expanded and I shared [Ring of the Great Sage]—

‘Hong Yeon-hwa will hit A-rank fast too.’

*****

The weekend, as the raid week was winding down.

Seo Ye-in and I contacted the Underworld Dragon King.

We wanted to tell it the news that she’d learned a new space-type skill.

When we explained the whole story, the Underworld Dragon King looked deeply satisfied.

-That’s a skill even that chairman bastard couldn’t learn. You really did it, young sovereign.

“The Great Sage said it made an exception, considering its friendship with Meteor Dragon.”

-It’s been quite some time, but it seems it hasn’t forgotten. Someday, you’ll meet again.

The Underworld Dragon King nodded slowly.

Then Seo Ye-in—who’d been sprawled across my lap—cut into the conversation.

“Gave lots of statues.”

-Of course, it’s not a skill you get on friendship alone. I assumed the young sovereign prepared extensively.

“She pushed it all onto me.”

-She gave up her own trade?

“Yeah.”

-So that happened. I offer my thanks once more.

“Rather than splitting it halfway, it’s better to lock down at least one thing for sure.”

-I agree. Either way, we’re in your debt. If there’s something you want, speak.

The Underworld Dragon King added that the chairman bastard would want to repay us too.

At first, I’d considered demanding a “Blink derivative skill,” but there was no reason to obsess over the same thing.

‘Our specialties are different.’

Like how a blacksmith handles metal gear while a jeweler handles gems and accessories—everyone has their domain.

The Underworld Dragon King could use space magic, sure, but compared to the crow Great Sage, it would be lacking.

Instead, it was a master of time magic.

Back during summer break, it had taught me [Time Sharing], the cooldown reduction skill.

And this time, I intended to ask for something similar.

“Could you make a time-related item for me?”

-That’s not an easy request. But it’s not something I can’t grant, either. What exactly do you mean?

“A minute hand.”

The time-related items I currently had were [Golden Gear], [Golden Second Hand], and [Regretful Hour Hand].

If I got the minute hand, I’d have collected all the hands.

And if I raised [Greedy Material Selection Ticket] to S-rank and traded for [Movement], you could say it was more than halfway complete.

The Underworld Dragon King nodded.

-It will take some time. Come later and collect it.

That made one more reason to visit Hye-seong Group.