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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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The exchange competition ended, and peaceful daily life returned.
I knew this was the time to train the hardest.
“You went berserk.”
—BAM!
‘This wasn’t the kind of training I had in mind.’
He barely managed to regain his balance, feeling as though he’d been hit by a cannonball in the stomach.
Apparently, footage of his rampage during the team match had circulated widely, even reaching his master, who was relaxing at home.
And as expected, the result was her fury.
He could understand her anger. He’d gone berserk after she’d entrusted him with such power.
“You’re right. I couldn’t help during your fight with Raystember, and yes, it was impressive that you defeated him alone. But going berserk crossed the line.”
“Yes, Master.”
Lee Seok-hyun understood Acasa’s fury.
Infinite Track was meant to be a source of unwavering strength. Going berserk meant losing control of that power, becoming a mindless berserker.
A monster driven by the primal urge to destroy everything in its path, friend or foe.
He, himself, hadn’t even been able to distinguish between allies and enemies, resulting in the nine-on-one beatdown.
“Infinite Track must be fueled by the will to protect.”
“It was my mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t a mistake. It was a lack of control. And it’s my duty to correct that.”
Acasa continued to emphasize that Infinite Track was a power for protection.
She had been adjusting his training based on his progress, but his rampage had alarmed her.
A single misstep with the power of Infinite Track could have devastating consequences. It could take years to regain control once it started to go astray.
‘Well, I’m not complaining about the intense training.’
He’d recently realized just how vital training was.
While absorbing the rewards from recent events was beneficial, his personal development took precedence.
‘I need to acquire Magnum before the semester ends, so I can handle whatever comes up during the break.’
With high-rank demons and even an Archdemon already making appearances, he couldn’t rule out encountering even stronger enemies. In fact, at his current level, a direct confrontation with a true high-rank demon would likely result in his death.
Rapid growth was essential.
And the accompanying pain was a small price to pay.
–Whirrrrrr.
“Going berserk isn’t simply a matter of Infinite Track overheating. Overheating is like overexerting yourself, pushing past your limits. Berserking is something else entirely.”
It was like speeding on a highway versus driving 250 km/h on a residential street. A reckless act, inviting disaster.
“Of course, that means it can’t be triggered intentionally. It requires a combination of an unstable mental state and an overwhelming surge of will. But you seem to have found a way.”
Don’t even think about intentionally triggering it.
Acasa’s eyes and voice were sharper, more serious than usual, conveying the gravity of the situation. He realized then that a chilling warning didn’t require overt displays of killing intent.
“Berserk mode is a double-edged sword. Continued use can sever the Infinite Track. And severing the Infinite Track…”
“Is impossible to repair. And the resulting internal injuries are catastrophic, often fatal.”
“Exactly.”
Acasa seemed pleased that he understood the severity of the situation.
“I’m explaining this because I wasn’t sure if I should teach you this yet… but I realized you need to understand the risks to avoid further incidents.”
‘Here it comes, the power-up event!’
Learning Infinite Track directly from a master was far more efficient than trying to master it through self-study. It was like having a private tutor versus struggling through textbooks alone.
“Boost. This is the next stage of Infinite Track, the power I will now bestow upon you.”
“Thank you, Master.”
He’d expected to learn Boost towards the end of the first year, so this was an unexpected opportunity. He bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude, and readied himself.
“As promised, you achieved first place. I’m proud of you.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Acasa unleashed a swift high kick to his face.
Acasa’s only weakness as an instructor was her inability to explain things clearly. She preferred to teach through direct, physical demonstrations.
‘Well, this works for me too.’
Learning through experience was often more effective than lengthy explanations.
That day, Acasa’s training ground echoed with Lee Seok-hyun’s cries of pain.
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“They arrived quickly.”
Three days had passed since the end of the exchange competition. He’d been diligently attending classes and training with Acasa.
Returning to his room after completing his daily schedule, he found a mountain of packages piled high at his door.
The packaging made it clear which academy had sent what. Their distinct styles and embellishments were a dead giveaway.
Predictably, everything was in perfect condition.
“The Royal Knight Combat Manual can wait…”
The manual contained hidden techniques and strategies that were difficult to discover, so he set it aside for later.
His immediate priority was mastering the contents of Rubulub’s Necromancy Grimoire and attuning himself to the Spirit Armor. Both had been sent by Elua.
“It’s strange how this game doesn’t shun necromancy.”
Raising the dead and manipulating souls was typically viewed with suspicion and disgust.
However, in Final Destiny, as long as it wasn’t demon magic, practically anything was permissible. Even necromancy, if used for righteous purposes and with proper oversight, was considered acceptable. It all depended on the context.
‘Let’s begin.’
Before opening the Spirit Armor, Lee Seok-hyun first delved into the Necromancy Grimoire.
[Do you wish to study Rubulub’s Necromancy Grimoire?]
The message appeared, prompting a predictable response.
“Yes.”
–Ding!
[You have studied Rubulub’s Necromancy Grimoire. You have acquired a basic understanding of necromancy. Your proficiency will increase as you gain experience.]
The knowledge from the thirty-million-won grimoire flowed into his mind.
He couldn’t actually use necromancy, lacking the necessary mana, but he studied it for one specific reason:
‘Spirit Armor.’
That was the key.
As he unwrapped the armor, a ghostly figure materialized above the seemingly ordinary breastplate.
Its form was unstable, a swirling mass of black smoke, its features indistinct.
To even see this spectral entity required knowledge of necromancy, as detailed in Rubulub’s Grimoire.
‘The armor itself isn’t the main component. It’s the spirit within.’
The spirit, bound to the armor, transformed it into the Spirit Armor.
A cheaply made breastplate, crafted by an unskilled blacksmith, was now imbued with power, a cursed yet potent piece of equipment.
And Lee Seok-hyun desperately needed this power.
Offensive abilities could be developed later, but defensive options were scarce.
‘Just attuning it to my uniform would create an excellent defense.’
While it might exude a slightly chilling aura and emanate an unsettling presence, those were minor drawbacks. Summer was approaching, and the armor’s inherent coldness could even be considered a bonus, a built-in air conditioner.
-‘Unjust… so unjust… My fate… so unjust…!!!’
As Lee Seok-hyun studied the grimoire and attuned himself to the Spirit Armor, the bound spirit within unleashed a torrent of resentment.
Left unchecked, it could consume the wearer, transforming them into a puppet, a vessel for its own tormented will.
That was the inherent danger of the Spirit Armor. Without a strong will and a firm grasp of necromancy, it was unusable.
To control the spirit, one needed a deep understanding of necromancy, combined with either powerful divine energy or an immense mana reserve.
While it seemed impossible for Lee Seok-hyun to wield such power, he had an ace up his sleeve.
“I’ll set you free.”
–Tsssssss.
He unwrapped the package Raymay had sent. Twenty kilograms of pure mithril gleamed, its surface shimmering with an ethereal light.
Still damp from being immersed in holy water, the mithril pulsed with a brilliant, otherworldly glow.
–’Ugh… No… Put it away… That… that is dangerous…’
The spirit recoiled at the sight of the mithril, its mournful wails replaced by whimpers of fear.
This was the power of mithril, its ability to purify evil and amplify divine energy.
Even in its raw, unrefined state, the mithril exuded a potent force.
“First, we separate you from the armor.”
The core of the Spirit Armor wasn’t the armor itself, but the spirit bound within.
The spirit was a living enhancement, a symbiotic entity that amplified the armor’s protective properties. It was like a living, breathing upgrade, a parasitic entity that fused with its host.
–Clang!
–’AAAAAGGHHHHH!’
To attune the spirit to his uniform, Lee Seok-hyun first had to separate it from the breastplate. In fact, he’d have to repeat this process every time he changed clothes, so taming the spirit was essential.
–’How dare you… How dare you do this to me… This is… unjust… You… you are the cause of my suffering…!’
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the mana to control you directly.”
Natural Mana was reserved for Infinite Track and the Manaplate Armor—it couldn’t be used for necromancy.
Controlling a spirit like this required basic mana, not Special Mana, and Lee Seok-hyun lacked that fundamental resource.
–’Words… We can resolve this with words…!’
–Clang!
–’Uwaaaaaaaaaaaah!’
Words were a poor substitute for action. Especially when dealing with a vengeful spirit. The spirit, sensing his inability to control it, lashed out, its mournful wails intensifying.
‘I’ll just have to beat it into submission.’
He had to make it obey his every command, even without the ability to control it directly. He would use the mithril to subdue the spirit, to break its will, to force it to comply.
While the spirit would inevitably lose some of its power during this process, it didn’t matter. He could nurture it back to its full potential later, and the ability to wield a spirit, regardless of its current strength, was a significant advantage.
“I don’t have time for this. I have bigger problems to deal with.”
–’But… reason… we must reason… This is unjust… so unjust…!’
The spirit’s resistance was fierce, its wails echoing through the room. As expected of a spirit with such a notorious past.
–Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The rhythmic clang of mithril against spectral flesh echoed through the night. He’d wisely erected soundproof barriers beforehand, anticipating this very scenario.
He continued the relentless assault, his arm a blur of motion.
Strengthening himself.
That was the first step.
And it began with the rhythmic clang of mithril on spirit.
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