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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Silverriver
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“The entrance exam is a spar with an instructor!”
The instructor shouted, gathering the new students in front of Trina. His fierce expression was striking.
A spar with the instructor.
Some were bewildered by this, while others’ eyes burned with competitive spirit.
However, there wasn’t a single student who wasn’t surprised.
The tests at Iliad Academy constantly changed, making them impossible to predict. It was no wonder the students were surprised, as the test determined their class placement: A, B, C, or D.
‘Of course, I knew.’
I was aware that this year’s advanced class would be selected through sparring, as suggested by the instructor. It was straight from the novel, after all.
“Hyaa!”
It was because of that girl.
Despite frequently having her attacks blocked by the instructor and being countered, she charged forward with an unyielding will. The embodiment of perseverance.
Erina Philstine, the Sword Saint.
Someone who would become a steadfast companion to the protagonist later on. I had been deeply impressed by her performance in the novel.
A swordsmanship honed solely through relentless effort, without any inherent talent.
That valiant spirit and that swordsmanship were likely forged through constant practice.
“Let’s end it here.”
The instructor declared, as the spar dragged on.
“Thank you for the lesson!”
“It was a good spar.”
Only then did she lower her sword and bow deeply. Her body was covered in scratches, her face dripping with sweat.
Perhaps impressed by her courage, the instructor offered rare words of praise.
So far, everything was proceeding according to the original story.
Iliad Academy didn’t expect anyone to defeat the instructor in the spar. What mattered was competitive spirit and courage.
They sought those who would rise and charge forward, no matter how many times they fell.
‘That’s the point of this test.’
Being admitted to Iliad Academy meant meeting the talent requirement.
This test was designed to filter out those who succumbed to fear, gave up, or didn’t even try, despite possessing talent.
“Gah!”
“Next!”
Extra #1 was brutally defeated, and finally, my turn arrived.
I wanted to keep a low profile at the academy, but… I needed to at least get into Class B to save face. It would also ensure a steady supply of elixirs from my father, the Duke.
I pulled a black orb from my pocket. The elixir Petra had given me. I was shocked when I’d “Observed” it.
『Black Dragon’s Core Fragment (200 days)』
200 days.
The Blue Jade Elixir was 60 days. Most elixirs didn’t exceed 20.
And yet, here was a core fragment surpassing the effects of most 20-day elixirs.
Honestly, if it weren’t a Black Dragon’s core, I would have doubted the observation result.
‘But it was a Black Dragon.’
Ferocious and vicious. A color known as the most sinister among dragons.
The Black Dragon with black scales.
Countless knights had challenged this monster, also known as the Black Dragon…
And only one had ever been slain.
That dragon’s name was…
‘Archxius’
A fragment of that dragon’s core. This was honestly worth a house. No, perhaps even more?
I didn’t know why Petra had this core fragment, but…
It would be rude to refuse a gift.
I would have to quietly ask her about its origins later.
Gulp.
As I swallowed the core fragment, vitality surged through my body. For the first time, I felt a lightness I had never experienced in this heavy body.
My mind cleared, and it felt incredibly good.
I carefully climbed the stairs to test my now-normal body.
I feel like I would lose this feeling once the spar began. Shouldn’t I enjoy it as much as possible?
A surge.
“Haa…”
I coughed up blood, but the amount was incomparable to before.
I felt like dancing. As I rejoiced inwardly, the instructor spoke.
“Are you ready to begin?”
Hmm? Did he usually ask that?
I nodded.
The instructor took his stance.
I also took a step forward, then stopped.
To deliver a proper strike, I would have to sacrifice my lifespan. Since I had received a 200-day boost, I could afford to use about 50 days’ worth.
I still had the Genius trait, after all.
If I could use 50 days of my lifespan to properly control my body and land a single blow on the instructor…
‘But why isn’t he attacking?’
I clenched my fist and waited for the instructor to attack, but he didn’t move.
Did I have to make the first move? Was that it?
I heard murmurs from behind.
But there was no rule about who attacked first, was there?
Step.
Finally, the instructor moved. Watching him approach, using the basic footwork taught at the academy…
I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought I would have to make the first move.
But…
‘Is he usually this slow?’
The instructor’s movements were strange. The man who had swiftly subdued the students earlier, why was he moving so slowly now?
‘Is he going easy on me?’
Because I was sick?
Because I was Deron Philasia, the eldest son of the Philasia family?
It was slightly annoying.
The instructor thrust his fist towards my abdomen. It was a bare fist, without any mana, but I understood his intentions.
‘He’s trying to knock me out gently.’
Aside from the Annoyance, it was a clear judgment. Even that weak punch would likely make me cough up blood and collapse.
However…
I channeled mana into my fist. Perhaps due to the Black Dragon’s core, black mana enveloped my fist.
I drove my fist straight into the instructor’s abdomen, controlling the force so he wouldn’t die.
As for me right now…
BAM!
A sound like a bursting drum.
The instructor groaned and collapsed.
“Tsk.”
He wasn’t someone to be trifled with.
Iliad Academy had truly gone downhill. Knocked out by a mere 50-day punch?
Thinking so, I looked at the judge. The judge stared down at the instructor in disbelief, then declared towards me,
“Deron…Philasia, wins.”
Only then did I step down from the platform. Chairs were provided for those who had finished their spar.
I sat in an empty spot and checked my trait window. It should now show 242 days, down from 292.
What the fuck?
I instinctively craned my neck and stared at the trait window. Was this a system error? Where were my 172 days? Where did they go?
›[Trait: Obtained Black Dragon’s Mana.]
Mana? Was it that thing that had enveloped my hand?
I checked the trait details.
› Trait: Black Dragon’s Mana
› Usable by those who have consumed a Black Dragon’s Core. Can be used when needed, but carries a curse against humans due to the dragons being hunted by them.
› (When used, lifespan decreases randomly.)
Shit!!!!
Shouldn’t they have told me this beforehand?! What was I supposed to do when mana enveloped my fist just from throwing a punch?!
Damn gods, damn trait, damn Black Dragon.
[Lifespan decreased by 12 hours due to excessive rage. (119 days 12 hours)]
[Trait: Obtained Black Dragon’s Mana.]
I barely managed to regain my composure. I almost lost control, but my Unyielding Spirit held me back.
Taking a few deep breaths, I looked back at the platform. Even though I had caused a bit of a commotion, the test continued.
Another person had taken the place of the instructor I had knocked out.
Wildly styled hair, as if trying to express his bestial nature, and pointed wolf ears. I could tell who it was just from his back.
‘Azure Mane Azvan.’
A werewolf, who had risen to the top of the academy solely through talent.
As the man stood as an instructor, the commoners’ eyes began to sparkle.
Azvan was practically an idol to them.
And his opponent…
“N-Nice to meet you…”
A slightly drawn-out tone. A hesitant posture. A clearly frightened expression. If it weren’t for her delicate appearance and beautiful curves, I would have grimaced.
Azvan seemed to have noticed her hidden power.
“Grrrr.”
Making the sound of a wolf, not a human, meant that Azvan intended to have a proper spar.
The girl wore a frightened expression, but it only seemed pretentious to me.
Because…
“Begin!”
“Kyaa!”
Azvan charged. Wind gathered around his sword. His unique swordsmanship, a swift style only achievable with a werewolf’s speed.
Clang!
But the girl parried. Her hand enveloped in holy power, light yet precise.
As if anticipating it, Azvan swung his sword again after it was deflected. But…
“Gotcha.”
The girl caught his sword. Without a single scratch.
Truly insane durability. The result of holy power combined with her inherent physical strength.
Bewilderment colored Azvan’s face.
I leaned back in my chair and watched the scene unfold. If it weren’t for me, she would have been the student who single-handedly defeated an instructor.
But now, she was the second student to do so.
Rebecca von Cartrell, the Saintess.
Hiding the name bestowed upon her by the gods, she took the test under the commoner identity of “Adele.” A Saintess couldn’t receive a proper evaluation, after all.
BAM!
With his sword caught, her fist shot out, striking Azvan directly in the abdomen.
He collapsed without a sound, even more cleanly than the previous instructor.
“W-Winner… Adele.”
The judge, flustered by two instructors being knocked down in a row, darted his eyes around nervously.
But my gaze was fixed on the Saintess.
Perhaps she could cure my illness.
“Excuse me…”
But just as I was about to speak to her…
I saw it.
“….”
A gaze filled with hatred and contempt, directed at me. It was different from the fear and pity I had received so far.
And I couldn’t fathom why.
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Looks like there’s some bad blood between Deron and Adele. Will it be revealed next chapter?
Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z.