1 Second Invincibility in the Game

Riamon watched his trembling wrist, cold sweat dripping down his face.

‘A greatsword imbued with aura just got snapped in half…?’

If he hadn’t loosened his grip on the greatsword, his wrist would have broken too. With that kind of power, even a glancing blow would sever limbs. Realizing he might die, Riamon heightened his focus and leaped back to create distance.

Thud!

The Watcher filled its maw with blue flames.

“Damn, a breath attack.”

If it’s an area attack, there’s no way to avoid it. The greatsword was now reduced to the size of a face, utterly inadequate for blocking flames. As Riamon frantically searched for a new strategy, the Watcher’s head was engulfed in blue flames.

Whoosh!

The Watcher thrashed about, trying to extinguish the flames, and Riamon’s eyes widened in confusion.

The mystery was soon resolved. Hersel, who had been sitting at a distance, aimed his hand at the Watcher.

“I can handle the flames. You deal with the rest.”

Riamon swallowed nervously and glared at Hersel.

‘Who is this guy?’

First, he had seemed to play around with water streams. Then, despite taking a blow that shattered a greatsword, he walked away unscathed. There was much that Riamon didn’t understand, but one thing was clear.

‘He’s strong. I can’t even gauge the level of his aura… Why hasn’t he finished it off already?’

He should have been more than capable.

At that moment, Hersel threw a longsword, and Riamon caught it with a start.

“Take this.”

“Gah.”

Riamon’s eyes widened in shock. Hersel chewed on jerky, watching leisurely as if this were a mere pastime.

‘So that’s it… I’m starting to understand what kind of person he is.’

To Hersel, this was just entertainment. The way he had seemed to be playing earlier was like a well-fed cat toying with a mouse until it was hungry enough to eat it. The abundance of coins with Team 7 also made sense now.

…Who’s helping who here?

Riamon thought Limberton was a fool for giving all his coins to such a man.

***

I felt a bit disoriented.

Riamon had approached the Watcher without considering his best attribute, his unique trait, and ended up in this situation… He had broken his greatsword for nothing and was now glaring at me, perhaps wanting me to lend him a weapon.

“Take this.”

Despite some reservations, I threw him the longsword. Given that he could imbue a sword with aura, he should be able to handle it this time.

“Gah.”

As Riamon grabbed the sword, I decided to watch the show, chewing jerky like popcorn.

Suddenly, he started nodding to himself, eyes wide open.

I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I had no time to ponder.

The Watcher had extinguished the flames on its head and now glared with its glowing blue eyes.

Even though the greatsword, meant to block the breath attack, was unusable, with a bit of help from me, dealing with the Watcher should be…

…Should be easy, right?

Thud! Thud!

The Watcher crawled toward Riamon. This time, he raised the longsword, ready.

Whoosh.

The tail whipped through the air.

Riamon dodged with a jump, lightly tapping the tail with the longsword as it passed. The Watcher swiped its sharp claws.

Riamon leaped again, horizontal in the air like a pole-vaulter.

Thud!

He flipped through the gaps in the Watcher’s ribcage like a dolphin through a hoop.

The combination of his traits, ‘Swallow’s Balance’ and ‘Contortionist,’ allowed him perfect control in mid-air and the flexibility of an invertebrate.

With these traits, Riamon had near-max evasion, capable of dodging attacks from all directions except area attacks.

Thud.

Again, he lightly tapped the Watcher’s bones with the longsword.

When the Watcher began to gather breath, I used my lightweight spell to set its head ablaze again.

Whoosh!

This was the perfect moment for Riamon to achieve the required conditions.

Riamon rapidly tapped the Watcher’s bones with the longsword, finally reaching the ninth strike. Now, his sword carried the blessing ‘Fallen Reclusive Swordsman’s Grace,’ which ensured a critical hit on the tenth strike.

As an aura swirled around his sword, I dusted myself off and stood up.

This was it.

The Watcher raised a forelimb to crush Riamon. He deftly weaved left and right, avoiding the attack, and thrust his sword between the Watcher’s ribs.

Thud!

The sword pierced the black heart, which exploded with a dark, muddy liquid splattering everywhere.

Thud.

The Watcher collapsed lifelessly, and Riamon emerged from between the bones, shaking off the blood.

I waited at the broken bridge connected by ropes and commanded the approaching Riamon.

“Carry me.”

“…What?”

“Do you expect me to cross this myself? You were paid; consider this part of the job.”

He glanced between the ropes and my face, then chuckled as if he’d understood something, crouching to let me climb on his back.

“You seem to want to blend in with ordinary people.”

“Ordinary?”

“Did you come here to experience life at their level for fun?”

He wasn’t wrong.

If I could rise to a normal level, I could at least be a decent member of society. That would indeed be fun and satisfying.

But was this the right context for such a discussion?

With an inscrutable mindset, I nodded.

“Well, that’s true.”

Riamon, with me on his back, stepped onto the rope.

Halfway across, he asked another odd question.

“What’s it like to see from such a height?”

Just a dark abyss.

It was another strange question, given we were crossing together.

Still, being on his back, I decided to answer.

“It’s dizzying. Unless you go down, you see nothing.”

He paused, turning his head slightly toward me.

“Living alone at such heights must have been dull. I understand wanting to see what’s below.”

What nonsense. Who would want to go down there?

Was he planning to drop me?

I ignited the ‘Noble Blood’s Ember’ and warned him coldly.

“Don’t even think about it. If you want to live long.”

If I were to fall, I’d take him with me.

He flinched and answered, sounding slightly flustered.

“Ahem, understood. You’ll have your life at the academy as you wish.”

“Yes, you better.”

After that, he fell silent, and we crossed the bridge without further incident.

We reached the exit safely.

I narrowed my eyes, looking at Limberton waving from afar.

“Hersel!”

When I reached him, I relaxed my frown. Despite him using the coins I’d told him to guard with his life, he had saved my life, which was something.

“Well, did you find exit 7?”

“Of course, I did.”

Limberton said, pointing Riamon to another ant hole.

“Exit 44 is over there. You can go that way.”

“…Limberton, you fool.”

“Why are you picking a fight now?”

Riamon muttered something and crawled towards exit 44.

I also went to exit 7, inserted the key, and opened the door.

Beyond was a snowy landscape.

At the end stood the magnificent white citadel of Frost Heart.

Black-clad professors stood on the wide stairs, looking down at the third test’s passers.

There were about 150 of us.

There wouldn’t be any more passers.

The clock on the citadel would soon strike twelve, and the bell would ring.

Clang.

As the time arrived, Rockefeller spoke.

“The third test is over. The number of coins each of you has is recorded, so no need to confirm it.”

He unfurled a long list and began reading the ranks.

“Team 44. Only survivor is Riamon Sel Rebeqtura. You’re first place.”

Suddenly, anxiety washed over me.

If he escaped around the same time as us, it meant he scored a ton of points with coins.

I felt a chill and looked at Limberton.

“You didn’t give him all those coins, did you…?”

“Well, I did?”

…Limberton, you fool.

“Coins aren’t more important than our lives. Don’t hold a grudge.”

That’s true, but giving all of them away!

Imagining a future of hardship, my blood pressure surged. Most infuriating was that he did it to save my life, leaving me no grounds to be angry.

While I was inwardly lamenting, Rockefeller spoke again.

“The top ten teams are assigned to the top dorm, Adelle Hall.”

“…Team 39. The next thirty units go to Buerger Hall.”

Our Team, 7, wasn’t mentioned.

“The rest… you know your dorm is over there.”

Rockefeller pointed to a pitch-black, eerie building outside the citadel.

The worst dorm, Schlaphe Hall.

Known for harsh conditions and strange occurrences, many students ended up hanging themselves there.

Rockefeller looked at me with a crooked smile.

“Announcing the lowest rank, Team 7. You’re last.”

Come to think of it, my anger should be directed at him.

I clenched my fists, glaring at Rockefeller.

“…”

Rockefeller snorted and turned away.

Professors started leading the students into the citadel.

“The entrance ceremony will start soon. Gather in the hall.”

As students moved, Limberton asked, pale-faced.

“Aren’t we screwed? Last place means the worst treatment.”

I composed myself and voiced a new goal for the academy.

“It’s fine, Limberton. No matter the obstacles, we will enter Adelle Hall.”

I vowed to make it happen and stepped into the citadel.

As we moved, the passing students’ eyes widened in surprise.

The second test passers, presumed failed, were waiting, including five survivors among the donation entrants, covered in frozen blood.

“Follow me.”

The professor’s voice led us to a large auditorium, capable of holding 300 people.

A muscular old man with a scar over one eye stood on the platform, lips curling in amusement.

“This year, there are many talented newcomers.”

From now, the significance of Frost Heart and its purpose would unfold from the mouth of the renowned Frost Sword Master.

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