Fiery Confession

Ma Hana glanced between Cha Yeo-joo and the two books.

Continuously swish—swish.

Mua-mua-muaang-muang!

“Mua, mua, muaah!?”

“…”

“Muaah, muaawaaang!?”

“…”

In the end, Cha Yeo-joo, unable to watch any longer, tapped Ma Hana’s forehead gently to stop her.

“Stop that and look at the very last page of the first notebook.”

“Mwang!”

Ma Hana flipped it open as instructed and flinched at the rough handwriting.

It was undoubtedly her father’s.

Her shock lasted only a moment—because the finely detailed drawing beside it left no doubt.

“…A map? It looks pretty far…”

“Yes. Go there.”

“To this place?”

Cha Yeo-joo nodded and leaned down to meet her eyes, smoothing Ma Hana’s hair as she spoke.

“There is an <Artificial Trial> there that a senior and your mother, Han Ara, prepared for you.”

“An <Artificial Trial>!? A trial can be made by someone!?”

“If it’s a great power, it’s possible… It also means they had to be that strong to protect you.”

“…M-muaah?”

Cha Yeo-joo answered that last question and simply shook her head at Ma Hana’s flurry of other questions. Her role ended here. She had only one thing to say: that you, the biological daughter of those two people—not someone else—had to go there yourself.

“Go and confirm the truth about your parents and yourself.”

“…My parents?”

“This is as far as I can help.”

Those were her final words.

Ma Hana understood instinctively—that this was Professor Cha Yeo-joo’s and her sister’s last gift, their final act of care, and that there would probably be no more lessons.

She felt gratitude and sadness at once. Her throat tightened, and she suddenly flung herself into Cha Yeo-joo’s arms.

“Thank you, unnie… thank you so much.”

“…”

Cha Yeo-joo, standing like a grieving statue, surprised herself by holding back tears. She opened her arms and hugged Ma Hana softly.

“…No, it’s me who should say…”

She was grateful for the joy of feeling as if she had a daughter.

On a clear afternoon, an important event arrived at <Gonis Hunter Academy>.

Commonly called the graduation exam, the final challenge for students who’d finished the second semester of their third year drew every eye.

Despite appearances, <Gonis Hunter Academy> was a prestigious institution recognized worldwide—one that took blows like a punching bag yet endured and kept its status. As a result, graduation was trickier and harsher than people assumed.

The usual requirement was clearing at least five B-rank or higher dungeons and submitting detailed reports, but some candidates proved themselves in large-scale public matches instead. Those matches were a stage to showcase worth: high-ranking representatives from and the <Association>—scouts searching for talent—always came to watch. Catch their eye, and your future could change overnight.

A well-groomed cadet stood now in the sparring arena. Jong Woo-jul was one such candidate: a third-year with solid grades, a male Awakener who’d survived to the end without expulsion, and a skill in the upper B-rank—better than most peers aiming for A-rank.

At twenty-four he possessed a Unique innate: [Blade of Explosion], a powerful ability that granted the <Explosion> attribute to equipment. That talent fed his pride and narcissism.

“Good…”

Jong Woo-jul smiled as he scanned the arena, satisfied by the packed crowd. He wanted to turn the supposedly disadvantaged image of male Awakeners into a selling point and make a flashy comeback—this graduation exam was his stage.

Even the guests were perfect. He glanced at two stunning women seated at a diagonal table, their beauty enough to dazzle: Ju Ye-young, master of the <Dragon Sword Mir> clan and an S-rank hunter, and Su Ok-bin, head of the <Association> and the undisputed top figure.

Jong Woo-jul clenched his fist. This was the crucial moment to prove his worth, the turning point that would decide his future.

But there was one thing he couldn’t tolerate: the exam’s format.

They’d announced a public sparring, true—but it wasn’t a fair one-on-one match. About thirty cadets, including Jong Woo-jul, stood in a circle: twenty-five women and five men. All were the same third-year classmates, competitors hoping to graduate.

From the lineup you might expect a free-for-all—alliances form, betrayals follow, and the survivor’s judgment and strength are tested. But this wasn’t that. The format was thirty versus one: the thirty candidates teamed up to take down a single person standing alone at the center. Thirty people ganging up on one.

Jong Woo-jul’s pride was wounded. He wouldn’t get to display his stylish, excellent skill properly, and even a win would feel shameful.

Worse, the center opponent’s identity pricked his pride.

A male cadet stood there, dazed—but he was strikingly handsome. Even other men involuntarily murmured. The kid clutched a wooden sword awkwardly.

A wooden sword.

Everyone else wore combat gear with weapon effects; the opponent wore ordinary school clothes and held a harmless wooden sword. The badge on his chest marked him as a second-year—a junior. At <Gonis Hunter Academy>, real combat experience and studies began in third year. He was an inexperienced rookie. It was absurd.

“Tsk…”

Jong Woo-jul looked toward the strongest among the thirty: Shin Sena, the top-ranked third-year candidate. He found it ridiculous to see her—someone he’d never beaten—swallow nervously, tense.

Of course, he’d heard the rumors about the handsome junior. Was his name Yu Seha? They said the kid had performed spectacularly during the <Villain Invasion>.

Nonsense, Jong Woo-jul decided. It wasn’t worth his energy to verify.

At that moment Shin Sena raised her hand to signal the start. On the podium, Professor Sa Rang-mi took the microphone. Jong Woo-jul tightened his grip on the longsword at his waist, vowing to quickly dispose of this second-year trash and to ensure such an absurd format never occurred again.

“Then, let’s begin—everyone, fighting!”

When Professor Sa Rang-mi finished, Shin Sena shouted. A peculiar sigil bloomed at her feet—the [Battle Command] skill of the <Commander> class, applying buffs to allies.

“Everyone, get ready!”

At her cue the thirty charged. Jong Woo-jul activated [Blade of Explosion] and launched his most confident forward thrust.

And precisely five seconds later—bang!

“…Huh?”

He was spinning through the air, vision inverted.

In an instant he rolled, and twenty-nine of his classmates lay sprawled on the ground, groaning or unconscious.

“Wha…?”

Thud!

Jong Woo-jul crashed against the arena wall in a humiliating heap. He watched the handsome second-year who’d caused the chaos reach a hand toward Shin Sena.

“Are you all right, senior?”

Shin Sena, who’d been knocked down, blinked in surprise and blushed.

“Uh…”

“I’m sorry, I thought it would be rude to stall and keep watching…”

“T-thank you…”

Huh? Shin Sena was embarrassed—more than that, she seemed to admit defeat.

Jong Woo-jul looked on, dumbfounded. Ju Ye-young and Su Ok-bin—those he’d sworn to impress—and many other clan leaders all watched the second-year and nodded as if it were natural.

He felt a strange, sick sensation, as if the world had shifted to orbit around that kid—an illusion of being the true protagonist.

“…What is this?”

At that final moment, Jong Woo-jul hit an invisible wall from another dimension and passed out.

“Tsk…”

Yu Seha watched Shin Sena smile pleasantly and say, “I learned so much. Thank you.”

To Yu Seha, Shin Sena had solid credentials: born 4★ and a rare <Commander> class—someone worth high recognition even in a gacha draw. Still, the scene didn’t sit right with him. No matter how he looked at it, it felt like seniors ganging up on a weaker opponent. Weren’t they seniors by a year?

Numbers and strategy meant nothing to him now. The only thing that could stop the situation was an overwhelmingly extraordinary strength—specifically, Sword Ghost So Hang-woo. With a pang of conscience, Yu Seha slipped beneath the arena.

Why was he here? Because of a proposal from Chairman Yu Neung-hae a few days earlier.

“Chairman? You called? I’m here.”

“Ah, yes, welcome, Yu Seha. Actually, I have something to tell you…”

“Yes, please go ahead.”

“Um, do you want to graduate from the Academy early today?”

“…Huh?”

Yu Seha blinked in bewilderment. Yu Neung-hae tilted her head as if puzzled by his reaction.