TSDSE 11

Chapter 11: True Power (2)

I was stunned by the sudden change in my vision.

Why was the tattoo glowing red, and what was this wind wrapping around me?

I couldn’t understand it at all.

And above all else—

I was utterly dazed by the landscape that had flipped 180 degrees.

“…What the hell is this.”

I could see something.

Something spinning idly around me.

Something filling the mana field to the brim.

Those formless energies were swirling chaotically in every direction.

Because of that, I couldn’t see a thing.

Choi Jihoon and Pi Jinho had completely vanished from my sight.

All I could see were these alien energies filling every direction.

“…Lost your mind, have you. How boring.”

“Cadet Kang Seoyul. Are you forfeiting?”

What was even more infuriating was that I was the only one seeing this.

“Cadet Kang Seoyul. If you don’t answer within five seconds, I’ll consider it a forfeit.”

What on earth is this?

Alien, yet familiar.

I raised my hand and tried to touch them.

I couldn’t.

“Five, four…”

I couldn’t grab them no matter how I tried.

They existed, but they had no substance—like beings without form.

Like the wind.

They were freely weaving and playing between my fingers.

“Three. Two. One. The sparring match is over! The winner of this match is Choi Jihoon—”

“You can’t end it this blandly, can you.”

“Choi Jihoon! Stop! The match is—!”

The landscape shifted once again.

The wind that had been swirling freely began to split and spread to both sides, as if influenced by something.

Whoooong—

Something was coming.

I didn’t know what it was.

I only knew that it was approaching me,

and that it harbored hostility toward me.

“Hmph!”

I have to block it.

The moment I thought that—

Whoooong! Ziiing—!

A distortion occurred in my vision.

Starting from the tip of the dagger.

A long red line appeared, stretching diagonally upward to the right.

It was as if it were an instruction telling me to swing my dagger along that line.

As if possessed, I swung the dagger.

Kakakakakakang! Chiing!

“What!”

Along with a fierce friction sound, I heard the clash of metal.

My muscles ached, and my grip tingled.

“I deflected it!”

“Whoa!”

“Insane!”

My vision grew even more alien.

The single red line multiplied into three strands,

“You bastard!”

and the density of the alien energies grew thicker.

I swung my sword unconsciously.

Diagonally.

Ching!

Vertically.

Chaaang!

At an angle.

Kakakakakang!

I swung my sword in the order the lines indicated.

Thump, thump.

My heart pounded like it was going mad.

My whole body hurt.

I felt moisture in the hand gripping the dagger.

A metallic smell.

Blood.

Had I been cut?

Fortunately, it was bearable.

“You fucking trash, how dare you!”

Choi Jihoon’s voice, filled with rage, rang out clearly.

“Ah.”

Only then did I realize what I had been doing.

I had blocked Choi Jihoon’s sword.

Four times, probably.

As many times as I had swung my sword.

My whole body ached and my palm was completely torn up, but—

it must have been a perfect defense.

“That’s why he’s so furious.”

Serves him right.

The corners of my mouth curved up on their own.

My vision was dyed red again.

Whoooong…!

The three red lines became four this time.

Then split again into six strands.

“Ah.”

I think I get it now.

These are the sword paths that can block Choi Jihoon’s blade.

Sword paths—*geomno*.

Or should I call them wind paths?

But blocking all of these attacks with my current skill level was impossible.

I don’t know why, but I could be certain of that.

“Get lost! Trash!”

In that instant, a new wind path opened.

This time it wasn’t a thin line starting from the dagger—

it was a thick line starting from my body.

I stepped forward in the direction that line extended.

Whooosh—

I heard something brush past my hair,

“You bastard!”

and heard a rage-filled shout from right next to me.

Ah, so Choi Jihoon is here.

The moment I realized that, red lines appeared once again.

A short line starting from the tip of the dagger.

That line spoke to me.

Telling me to stab here.

That the enemy is here.

That this is the vital point.

That’s what it was insisting.

“…Yeah.”

My whole body hurt.

A sharp pain began racing through the hand gripping the dagger.

As if I were running out of oxygen, my mind began to go hazy.

Yet my lips were smiling.

I gently gripped the dagger with my trembling hand.

Then, slowly—like a child running to its mother.

But surely.

*Sink—*

I drove the dagger in.

“That’s enough! The match is over!”

* * *

After all the matches had ended.

The indoor auditorium was filled with silence.

“…Whoa.”

“Insane. Seriously.”

Everyone had goosebumps all over their bodies.

“No really. Wow. I’m speechless.”

To be fair, it wasn’t that extraordinary a match.

At best, it was a spar between a C-rank and an F-rank superhuman—how amazing could that be?

“How is that even possible?”

For the cadets who had watched countless videos of regular superhumans, the two of them shouldn’t have been anything special.

And yet the auditorium was filled with fervor and excitement.

Everyone couldn’t help but marvel at Kang Seoyul’s movements.

That’s how refined, elegant, and lethal Kang Seoyul’s movements were.

“Cadet Kang Seoyul. He wasn’t just good with a bow. His dagger technique was just—wow…”

The assistant instructor asked Pi Jinho gingerly.

“…Indeed.”

“At that level, he really might be hiding his stats, don’t you think?”

“No, that’s not it. His muscle movement is definitely F-rank. His reflexes, his strength, even his eyesight. Choi Jihoon’s movements probably weren’t even visible to Kang Seoyul’s eyes.”

“W-Weren’t even visible? Then how on earth did he move like that…”

“Innate sense.”

Pi Jinho was trembling.

“He just knows. Where the sword will come from. How to dodge. How to deflect a blade so that even his own strength can block it. Where the opponent’s guard is weakest.”

Part of it was that he was as shocked by Kang Seoyul’s movements as everyone else, but there was a bigger reason.

“…Could he possibly possess the Genius (天才) trait?”

“No. It’s not that. That trait applies to stat growth as well. Rather, that is…”

Pi Jinho smiled inwardly.

‘Master of Weapons.’

The non-standard trait [Master of Weapons] that allows one to freely use any weapon.

Pi Jinho was certain that Kang Seoyul possessed that trait.

That’s why he was trembling.

“Why did you stop mid-sentence? You’re making me curious. What is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just couldn’t think of anything that fit.”

“Come on.”

The assistant instructor pouted, looking deflated.

“But it really is a shame.”

“What is?”

The assistant instructor gestured with his chin toward Kang Seoyul, who had collapsed unconscious.

“He lost in the end, didn’t he.”

“…That he did.”

Pi Jinho smiled wryly.

The end of the match.

Kang Seoyul had shown movements that completely neutralized Choi Jihoon’s barrage and launched a lethal counterattack.

He seized the opening and drove his dagger precisely toward the heart.

“Seriously. If his strength had just been D-rank, he would have won.”

But Kang Seoyul’s dagger couldn’t pierce Choi Jihoon’s skin—

couldn’t break through his durability.

The dagger had only pierced through the armor and barely grazed Choi Jihoon’s skin.

“…If this had been a real fight, and Kang Seoyul’s dagger hadn’t been a training dagger but a slightly better one, the winner would have been Kang Seoyul.”

“Come on. Then Choi Jihoon would have been wearing tougher armor too. He’s a chaebol, after all. A chaebol.”

In the end, Kang Seoyul couldn’t overcome the absolute wall known as “stats.”

“Anyway, the more I think about it, the more regrettable it is. If only Kang Seoyul had received a bit more blessing in stats…”

In the end, the winner was Choi Jihoon.

And Kang Seoyul became the loser.

“Still, aren’t you looking forward to it?”

“To what?”

“Kang Seoyul’s future. I mean, he’s F-rank at twenty, so his growth potential is probably incredibly low, but.”

The assistant instructor spoke with eyes full of excitement.

“If Kang Seoyul’s stats grow to at least B—no, even just C or B… ooh.”

The assistant instructor rubbed his forearms vigorously.

“I feel like he could even aim for the world ranking top 100.”

Pi Jinho smiled.

“Top 100, you say.”

“Ah, was that too much? I overdid it, didn’t I? Ahaha.”

The assistant instructor scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Watching him, Pi Jinho laughed inwardly.

‘Top 100, he says. If [Master of Weapons] blooms safely, the world ranking top 10 is a breeze.’

* * *

I was dreaming.

A dream of the original world, before I fell into the novel.

Looking at that scene, tears flowed from my eyes without me realizing it.

—Seoyul-ah. Making only the protagonist lose his status window. The more I think about it, the better it seems.

But those weren’t tears of longing.

It was the opposite.

Tears of rage.

They were tears of blood, born from the frustration of wanting to flip over the scene before my eyes but being unable to.

—Alright. I’ve got the feel for it. Remake. Let’s just do it, what the hell.

It was the dream of that day.

The dream of the drinking session where I got blackout drunk and lost my memories.

The dream of the day that became the cause of me ending up in this situation.

—Hyeong. But if we do that, it just becomes a frustrating novel.

Memories I still hadn’t been able to recall.

—Huh? Does it turn out that way?

In the dream, I had become a third party, watching the conversation between Shin-i hyung and my dead-drunk self.

—No. If we’re going to remove the protagonist’s status window, we need to give him a corresponding advantage.

After that, I’d thought I just passed out, but I’d been awake, huh.

It seems the memories had just cleanly flown away.

—An advantage. That’s definitely necessary. Ah! How about this? My novel has a setting where equipment has equip restrictions, right? Only the protagonist ignores those restrictions. Because he doesn’t have a status window. How about it? Not bad, right?

Yes. I think that’s great.

Please, *please* use that setting.

—Too weak! The concept is too simple!

But my past self was thinking differently from my current self.

—It’s better, but it’s too broken. We need to put some limits. Let’s add a time limit. While we’re at it, let’s make the number of uses limited to one! Oh. I’m feeling it.

You’re full of shit.

Get lost.

An urge to beat my past self to death surged up.

—Isn’t that just frustrating?

—Hmm. That’s true.

That’s right!

Shin-i hyung, you’re doing great!

Don’t lose to my past self!

—Ah. But it would be fun, though. Ignoring equip restrictions is a kind of bug, after all. In the sense that the system puts the brakes on. Not bad.

—Right?

The two of you are being absolutely ridiculous together.

So the result of that conversation is this defective pile of an ability I have now?

Suddenly I’m depressed.

—But no matter how I think about it, it’s too frustrating. Hmm… Ah! Then how about this?

Even if it was in a dream, I’d wanted to see the protagonist reborn as an overpowered character. But it ends like this after all.

—The protagonist’s ability is kind of like a bug, right? Because of that, the system that causes the Unknown Error actually backflows that race’s trait to the protagonist in reverse.

Even in a dream, I wanted to see Kang Seoyul become overpowered.

But dreams can’t come true, so it’s a dream…

Huh?

Wait a minute. What did you just say?

—Oh! In the sense that the system misidentifies him as belonging to that race? So while the system is fixing the bug, one of that race’s traits randomly backflows to the protagonist? Whoa. Hyung, are you a genius?

For a moment, I was speechless.

—Ah! Then how about we engrave a tattoo on the protagonist’s body as proof that the trait backflowed?

What am I even hearing right now?

—That’s good. If there’s no status window, you need another visible symbol.

A hollow laugh burst out of me without meaning to.

—Then the remake concept is locked in! Instead of a status window, the protagonist gathers ancient relics and collects each race’s unique racial traits to become stronger! Bonus ability: one-minute free-use pass for items!

Now everything was finally falling into place in my head.

The reason I could use the bow freely was thanks to the elf racial trait “Guardian of the Bow.”

That alien landscape from a moment ago was likewise the elf racial trait “Path of the Wind.”

These must be traits I obtained from [World Tree’s Blessing] and [Tranquility of the Forest], respectively.

My heart swelled.

It felt like something that had been blocked in my chest had burst wide open.

—Hyung! This really has a feel to it! If you ever need help with anything, just say the word.

With the image of my past self shouting that as the last thing, my surroundings began to blur.

Like color draining away, like letters slowly being erased from an old book.

Soon my vision turned completely pitch black.

The next moment.

“Ancestor?”

My vision was filled with Shin Jia’s face.

I must have woken from the dream.

“Are you okay?”

“Ah.”

The corners of my mouth shot up to the heavens.

“Waaaaaah!”

I let out a shout of joy.

My ability isn’t trash!

My ability is absolutely broken!

*Wham!*

“Kyaaak!”

I hugged Shin Jia right then and there. It was an impulsive act because I was so happy.

“Hahahaha!”

“A-Ancestor?”

I heard Shin Jia’s thoroughly flustered voice.

I paid it no mind and asked her casually, still holding her.

“Jia.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you happen to know about the Master of Mana?”

“O-Of course I know. It’s a dragon racial trait, isn’t it? The ability to freely dominate mana. But why bring that up all of a sudden…”

I beamed.

“Just because!”

With the happiest smile in the world.

“Just wanted to ask!”