It was even clearer from a distance.
The sheer absurdity of what Adrian Merrick was doing right now? Purely mesmerizing.
'…Interesting.'
Freshmen sometimes set records, sure. But mostly? Flukes. Not a display of real skill.
And yet here he was, blazing through this dungeon with unnerving precision.
'He's calculating everything.'
It was as if he knew every monster's location relative to the hero candidate and was issuing instructions at exactly the right moment. Every move seemed anticipated, every judgment near-perfect.
He might have looked like he was just standing there giving orders, but Adrian was orchestrating the artificial dungeon like a master puppeteer, every trap and enemy in the palm of his hand.
I can say this with confidence:
This freshman was the first in Caldwell Academy's history to tackle a dungeon like this.
Almost as if…
'He's fought on actual battlefields thousands of times.'
No other explanation fit. Surviving combat and honing this skill suggested there was more to him than met the eye.
"…"
Curiosity gnawed at me. If Adrian joined the dungeon raid directly with the hero candidate, what would happen? One person alone was impressive—but both together? Impossible.
"No… I just can't believe it. None of this makes sense."
Meanwhile, the mage beside me hadn't stopped pestering me.
"Then… want to bet on it?"
"A bet?"
"Remember the record you and I set in the mock battle back in our freshman year?"
"I do. What about it?"
Roderick Baltador and Percy were legendary as a freshman duo. Their record still stood unbroken.
"I bet he'll break it."
Percy's eyes widened.
"…You're that confident?"
"Of course."
"Fine. I accept your bet—he won't break it."
Roderick picked up the microphone on the control panel.
"This is Roderick Baltador, Dean of the Knight Faculty. Can you hear me?"
His voice boomed throughout the dungeon like an official announcement. Elize glanced at the ceiling in awe.
Roderick smiled at Adrian, who remained perfectly unbothered.
"I'm curious how this will turn out. Can I make an offer?"
"Go ahead," Adrian replied casually, barely lifting an eyebrow.
"Percy and I are betting on whether you can break our freshman record. If you succeed… Percy will grant you one request of your choice."
Percy's raised eyebrows said everything, but she stayed silent. She was confident their record would remain untouched.
"You don't need to stress. Your current performance is impressive as it is."
"Ah… thanks," Adrian said flatly, almost bored.
Adrian Merrick's calm, unbothered attitude? Motivation enough. Percy's reaction? Absolutely priceless.
---
"Iya…"
As soon as Jean entered the student council's dedicated fitness room, she was hit by the sweltering heat.
Lirielle lay sprawled on the floor, drenched in sweat, adding to the chaotic scene.
"What is all this?"
Jean sighed, tossing a water bottle to Lirielle.
"I needed to sort my thoughts."
"Right… I know you come here to sweat alone when you're like this. So what's the problem now?"
"It's always been like this, but it's ramped up lately."
Jean's expression darkened.
A rumor had been circulating in imperial circles: the devil ran in Duke Caldwell's veins.
This could mean one of two things: either literally connected to a devil, achieving feats through evil pacts, or metaphorically, referring to bursts of madness in the bloodline.
The Caldwell family's history of extreme violence and tragic decline overshadowed their achievements, and Lirielle was not immune. Her case was particularly extreme. She alone knew aspects of her sister that must never be revealed to the public.
"…Is it serious?"
"Nothing to worry about. It's not entirely because of that."
Lirielle smiled faintly, wiping sweat from her brow.
"There's something I wanted to remember."
"What?"
"A sword move my mother taught me when I was little… I can't fully recall it, so I've been reviewing my technique from the start."
For a woman who rarely showed emotion, Lirielle was unusually sentimental. Jean didn't comment, letting her be.
Her feelings toward her parents were polar opposites—her mother gone too soon, her father… complicated.
"Well, don't overdo it."
"It's fine. If I exhaust myself, I won't care about most things."
"Really? Well, I have news."
Lirielle turned to Jean.
"…Tell me."
"A junior told me earlier: Adrian Merrick is paired with the next hero candidate in a mock battle. People say they're betting with the Deans—"
Sparks flared in Lirielle's eyes.
"So… they're stuck together?"
"…Yes."
That mattered more than the bet itself.
"It's a two-person mock battle. They have to stick together, right?"
Lirielle sprang up, sweat flying, unconcerned with the mess.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care about most things?"
"Shut it. Tell me where it is."
This woman was insane. Jean, already overworked, felt her temples throb.