Another day at the Academy was coming to an end.
All official lectures ended around six in the evening. After that, each student had free time to spend as they wished.
They could rest. They could build relationships with someone. If they felt painfully aware of their own shortcomings, they might devote themselves to extra training. The choice was theirs, and so were the consequences.
Lee Hyunwoo had been running for more than thirty minutes in the empty training hall where no one else was present. He was drenched in sweat and panting hard, though he never stopped. Others would have quit in disgust, but Lee Hyunwoo kept running.
He was convinced that he had no noticeable talent. He believed that his only real strength was his persistence.
That was why he pushed himself to the limits with that persistence.
When others practiced ten times, he practiced a hundred. If others practiced a hundred times, he practiced ten thousand.
He had no talent, so he worked harder. He believed that if he worked hard, at least he could become someone’s equal. Relying on that belief, Lee Hyunwoo never once took a break and kept driving himself onward.
His alarm beeped, telling him that he had finished his target distance. Only then, did Lee Hyunwoo slow his pace and come to a stop.
“Alright. Now I’ll swing the sword a hundred times.”
Others would have tried to take at least a quick breather. He decided otherwise and gripped his sword, taking his stance.
He had heard that battles with monsters and villains were never so leisurely. He had heard that there would be no chance to catch one’s breath on a battlefield where life and death intermixed.
Professors always stressed that everything at the Academy was different from “the real field.” Here, if you got tired, you could pause for a moment, or if you were hurt, you could receive treatment right away. They said once you left this place, you would realize that was an unimaginable luxury.
No one wanted to die a ridiculous death, so you had to become stronger. No one wanted to be a burden, so you had to become stronger. Even if you only wanted fame, you still had to be strong.
If someone could rely on talent to become strong, that was fine. In Lee Hyunwoo’s case, the only path to strength was through effort.
His body was exhausted from such extreme training, yet Lee Hyunwoo held firm. His eyes were still alive, and his sword traveled the path he intended it to take.
Around that time, as Lee Hyunwoo pushed through his training, two students who were finishing their lectures happened to see him.
“Hey, that guy’s been running forever, and now he’s straight back to training?”
“Leave him alone. He’s Bronze. If he has no skill, he’d better make an effort.”
“You really think that works? If everything could be solved by working hard, then anyone could reach S-rank.”
It was unclear if they wanted him to hear or if they were talking among themselves. One thing was certain, though: Lee Hyunwoo heard them.
Usually, he might have shrugged it off. Comments like that were everywhere. Wherever you went, people who thought themselves superior belittled others. LFor some reason, it got to him today. He couldn’t let it slide.
Lee Hyunwoo immediately stopped swinging his sword and walked toward them.
“What was that you said?”
He disliked being looked down on, but what he hated even more was when someone dismissed “effort” as though it were trivial.
He found it irritating when people spoke as if anyone could put in the work. Those same people never gave genuine effort themselves, then complained that they saw no results. That hypocrisy repulsed him.
“What’s your problem?”
“Apologize. For what you just said.”
“What? We can’t talk among ourselves?”
“It’s fine if you keep it between yourselves. The problem is when I hear it.”
Lee Hyunwoo blocked their path as he spoke, and the male student—who had said “anyone could do it”—scowled.
“Hey, you. Are you pissed off because we’re brushing off Bronze?”
“Come on, it’s obvious. You’re a first-year too, right? My dear Bronze underclassman. If you’re ashamed of your rank, then stop paying attention to others and just work harder until you move up.”
“You’re mad that a Silver calls a Bronze incompetent? If you don’t like it, rise to Silver. Problem solved.”
A few choice words came to mind, but Lee Hyunwoo bit them back. That reaction must have looked different to the Silver-ranked student.
“What’s that look for? Ah, do you think Silver and Bronze are more or less the same?”
“Hey, knock it off. Let’s just leave.”
“Go? Right. A first-year who doesn’t even respect his seniors, plus he’s stuck in Bronze? You want me to ignore this? Ridiculous. This is why Bronze keeps thinking Silver is nothing.”
The male student tossed his jacket to his friend, pulled out his sword, and aimed it at Lee Hyunwoo.
“You’re that angry, huh? Then let’s have a match. I’ll show you why you’re Bronze and why I’m Silver. There’s a clear difference between Bronze and Silver.”
“Are we doing this or not? Hurry up and answer. If you’re scared, go back to swinging that sword by yourself.”
Nothing more needed to be said. Lee Hyunwoo grabbed his own sword and faced him. The Silver-ranked student gave a slight grin and added more words:
“Right. Bronze kids always say they can reach Silver any time they want. They’re deluding themselves and have no clue it’s beyond them. Underclassman, time for a lesson.”
Anyone who understood how lonely and grueling true effort was never dismissed someone else’s attempts. Those who mocked other people’s efforts didn’t know anything about perseverance.
Lee Hyunwoo, who could overcome even raw talent, decided that the only cure for scum was a solid beating.
Barely two seconds into the duel, the Silver-ranked student was slammed down to the floor. Even the student who had suggested the match and the one chosen as referee were in shock.
“Is that the level of a Silver who talks so much about hard work?”
“Grrr… you, you cheap jerk! You can’t just rush in right away!”
“That’s nonsense. I waited for the match to start. That’s not being cheap.”
“What about the three-second rule of courtesy? What if either side had more to say…?”
Lee Hyunwoo had no patience for that sort of nonsense.
He didn’t even need to swing his sword. One well-placed punch did the job. His opponent was too slow, too talkative, and far too careless. The Silver-ranked student flew away and landed spread-eagle on the ground.
“So this is what it means to be Silver, but you’re worse than Bronze.”
He’d already been stressed for the past few days. The biggest reason was how he kept getting beaten by Examiner Baek Seojin, who never held back. He must have accumulated a lot of frustration without realizing it.
He didn’t have anything against the Examiner, though. He was grateful.
A loss was most valuable when it came at the hands of someone who had worked even harder. Defeats like that gave him the motivation to push himself to new heights.
He recognized how much effort Baek Seojin must have invested in honing his skills, since he started with a support-type ability. It had to be unthinkably hard to reach that level.
He could respect a Silver recognized by Baek Seojin. These punks, however, were worthless. That was his conclusion.
“What in the world is going on?”
Kang Hana felt an odd tension in the Academy the moment she arrived for class.
There was a sense of unrest among the students, and they were looking at each other strangely. It seemed like a fight might have taken place, but something else felt off.
When she entered the Student Council room, Yoo Dasom came rushing up to her, out of breath. She clearly looked startled, as though something big had happened.
“Have you heard the news?!”
“Dasom, I literally just got here.”
Yoo Dasom tapped her head, saying she must be losing it.
“In any case, it happened yesterday. A first-year Bronze and a second-year Silver had a duel.”
“A duel? They’re not from the same year, and they’re not even the same rank, right?”
That combination almost never happened.
From the second-year’s standpoint, a win was the same as breaking even, and losing meant total disgrace. That alone was enough reason to avoid it. From the first-year’s standpoint, they almost never had the skill to win, so they would try to dodge it altogether.
Some claimed the gap between Bronze and Silver was minimal, but that gap was real. In the world of abilities, that small difference was still huge.
Why did the Academy give repeated academic warnings to perpetual Bronze students if not for that gap? There was a recognized difference in skill, usage methods, mindset—one way or another.
Hana, who was Platinum rank, saw most of them as roughly the same. Yet, she acknowledged that the gap existed. No Bronze had ever beaten a Silver at the Academy until now.
“…Wait, don’t tell me.”
Thinking this through, Kang Hana got a sudden inkling.
No, that had never happened before. Surely, it wasn’t this time either. But Yoo Dasom quickly confirmed her fears.
“The Silver lost. To a Bronze. And I’m talking total devastation.”
“It gets crazier. Afterward, he took on more Silver students in duels!”
“Okay, you’re not telling me he won those too, right?”
“Why wouldn’t he? Between yesterday and today, he’s already beaten five Silvers.”
Yoo Dasom’s affirmation made Kang Hana let out a stunned exclamation. It seemed the Academy was about to explode with rumors.