A thunderous impact echoed the mont the fight began.
Julien barely had ti to react.
Dreyden closed the distance instantly, charging straight at him before he could multiply his numbers further. He’d already made two clones—but that was all he was going to get.
"Tsk!"
Julien grunted as his saber smashed into Dreyden’s black brass knuckles.
Sparks flew.
The first clone moved imdiately, lifting its saber high before slashing downward with all its strength.
CLANG!
Steel t tal.
Dreyden twisted his arm, knocking the blade aside and opening a gap. At the sa instant, his right fist ignited in blue flas.
He didn’t hesitate.
PUNCH.
The fiery fist t the clone’s chest.
The first copy burst apart on impact, dissipating into smoke and scattered mana.
Julien’s grip on his saber tightened. He hadn’t expected his clone to be destroyed that quickly.
Before he could reorder his strategy, Dreyden’s other fist flared with fire. He hurled a flaming punch toward the second clone, who had no ti to dodge.
The second copy vanished just as easily as the first.
Julien’s entire tactic of outnumbering his enemy evaporated in seconds.
In a flash of anger, he abandoned the idea of using clones at all and charged directly at Dreyden.
"You think you can beat just because you killed my clones!?" he shouted.
The more he spoke, the angrier he sounded.
Dreyden watched him silently, Eyes of Truth active.
Julien gritted his teeth, raising his saber and cutting horizontally at Dreyden’s torso—
Only to swing through empty space.
Swoosh.
Dreyden had ducked with smooth economy of movent, his body slipping just under the blade.
Julien’s blood boiled.
He had a good track record. With his faction as a shield, he’d intimidated and bullied his way through the ranking, forcing concessions from weaker students.
He was used to people flinching just at the ntion of his na.
Now, he was up against soone who didn’t care about his faction at all.
And he didn’t know how to handle it.
"You’re weak. Very weak," Dreyden said calmly as Julien stumbled from the overcommitnt of his swing and nearly fell. "How did you even get into the top 20?"
He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought:
"Or maybe you just don’t know how to use your skill."
"Fuck you!"
Julien sprang back to his feet, fury twisting his features. He raised his saber again, coming into guard—
But Dreyden was already moving.
He closed the distance with impressive speed, pulling his fist back as flas surged around his knuckles.
Julien tried to bring his blade down, but Dreyden’s punch was faster.
The fiery strike slamd into the flat of his saber.
Crack...
The low-quality spiritual weapon couldn’t handle it.
The blade snapped.
Julien’s body was launched out of the arena, air ripping past his ears as pain tore through his stomach where the brass knuckles had connected. Blood sprayed from his mouth.
He flew toward the edge of the watching crowd—
Straight toward a face Dreyden recognized instantly.
Lucas.
The protagonist stared at him with a serious expression, completely ignoring Julien hurtling toward him.
Just as Julien was about to crash into him, Lucas casually lifted his leg.
His foot t Julien’s back.
"ARGH!"
The impact made sothing in Julien’s spine crack. His body slid down the sole of Lucas’s shoe before crumpling to the ground, unconscious.
Dreyden tore his gaze away from Lucas and looked at the judge, who still appeared shocked.
"Aren’t you going to announce the result?" he called.
The judge flinched, then finally raised his hand.
"Winner: Dreyden Stella!"
Despite himself, Dreyden couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his face as he glanced down at the glowing panel on his uniform.
Rank 22 – Dreyden Stella
Points: 165,983
As the announcent spread, the crowd slowly began to disperse, buzzing with speculation about Dreyden’s ability.
Dreyden remained in the arena, waiting.
He expected Lucas to approach him.
Invite him again. Ask sothing. Say anything.
But like most of the students—
Lucas simply turned around and walked away.
’So he really just ca to watch fight,’ Dreyden thought.
His attention was pulled away by a familiar voice and an even more familiar face walking toward him.
"Why are you fighting so hard to climb the ranks?" Maya asked.
He turned to her.
"rit points," Dreyden replied. "We’re going to need a lot more for our plans. How long until you can use your skill?"
"Actually..." Maya frowned in thought. "I think I can do it tomorrow. The more magic energy I accumulate, the harder it is to store."
"Don’t worry," he said. "You’re talented. That won’t slow you down too much."
"I hope you’re right..."
" too," he murmured under his breath.
So quietly that even Maya didn’t catch it.
He sighed, then reached out to take her hand.
"Co on. Let’s get out of here."
They left the arena together.
[06:18 — Saturday]
Bang.
One of the three training targets exploded when a wave of compressed air slamd into it.
What should’ve been a normal morning training session turned... strange.
Across the training field, a white-haired girl sprinted forward, bow in hand, breathing hard. She drew the string back, aid—not at the robot in front of her, but at the side—and released.
’What is this girl doing here...?’
As the arrow flew, she raised her right hand. The projectile abruptly curved in midair, arcing around before drilling directly into the robot’s chest.
I watched, eyebrows furrowing.
Raisel Silvius.
Another heroine.
"She shouldn’t be here," I muttered.
In the original novel, Raisel never trained during the day.
Her bond with Lucas deepened because she trained at night, when everyone else was asleep. Lucas, being another late-night training freak, eventually started showing up at the sa ti.
Two insomniacs with too much ambition and not enough rest.
They grew closer because of that.
But now?
Raisel was training in broad daylight.
Sothing that never happened in the original tiline.
I scanned the field again.
Besides Raisel, I was the only person in Class 1A’s training grounds.
That made ... uneasy.
"Mmh... sothing must’ve happened..."
In the original story, Dhara and Raisel’s rivalry was mostly one-sided.
Dhara wanted desperately to surpass Raisel, but no matter how hard she worked, she never managed to win.
Raisel didn’t obsess over it. She just did her best and moved forward.
For Raisel to suddenly be training in the morning, at this intensity...
"Wait..." I muttered, mories of combat class flashing through my mind. "She... lost?"
In the recent tests, Dhara had been ranked 6th.
Raisel had dropped to 8th.
On the surface, it wasn’t a huge difference.
But for soone like Raisel—soone who’d always quietly carried pride in her standing—it was a blow.
A defeat she wasn’t expecting.
"Not my problem," I said finally, turning away. "It’s not like I care about the original plot anymore."
There were already too many differences.
Characters that didn’t even exist in the novel were walking around.
There was no way this world would perfectly follow the book’s events anymore, whether I interfered or not.
That was why I kept pushing myself every day.
Even if the tiline veered off course, there were still major events I rembered. Still "milestones" I could use as anchors.
Like the dungeon raid class.
When the dungeon breaks.
When the students are sealed.
When the real danger starts.
I needed to be ready for that, regardless of what was happening with side characters.
"Dreyden."
As I turned to leave the training grounds, a familiar voice called out.
The owner of the voice was just stepping in.
He gave a small nod.
"Lucas."
I raised my hand in a half-wave and kept walking past him.
Without slowing down.
’That’s right,’ I thought. ’Go help her, protagonist. Show her your charm.’
Watching Lucas and Raisel training together in the middle of the morning... stirred sothing uncomfortable in my chest.
The differences between the world I rembered and the world I was in were becoming more obvious.
Lucas and Raisel training during the day.
Riven falling behind Dhara in the rankings.
Dhara flirting openly with Riven.
In the original novel, Dhara and Riven had a sibling-like bond.
Now, it felt like sothing different was forming.
"This is seriously starting to worry ," I muttered. "Even Jayden isn’t the sa."
In the original story, after losing miserably to Lucas, Jayden Black spiraled into anger and isolation. He beca antisocial, bitter, borderline unhinged.
Now?
He was surrounded by friends.
Laughing.
Talking.
Smiling more than he ever did in the book.
If small changes kept piling up, they’d eventually snowball into sothing huge.
If that happened, the main events I was counting on might not happen at all.
Or they might twist into sothing unrecognizable.
’Looks like I’ll have to deal with the butterfly effect head-on,’ I thought.
I pulled out my ID card and opened my profile.
Na: Dreyden Stella
Class: A-1
Score: 165,983 points
Balance: 1,050 rits
History:
500 rits — Reached 22nd in School Ranking
300 rits — Reached 50th in School Ranking
250 rits — Reached 100th in School Ranking
1,600 rits — Successfully spent
"The rewards are really cheap, huh..."
Among thousands of combat students, being in the top 20 only earned 500 rits.
"Haaa..."
I sighed, feeling a familiar sensation flow through my body.
Ever since I got magic control, I’d made it a habit to circulate magical energy whenever I wasn’t actively doing sothing else.
If I wasn’t fighting, I was training.
I closed my eyes and focused inward.
A great river of magic flowed within my core, surging like a living thing.
But sothing felt... tight.
I drew a long breath and tried to drag more loose noons of magical energy toward the core.
They approached—
Then bounced off.
Again and again.
After all the talks I’d had with Maya, my circulation speed had improved massively. I’d say it was at least 80% faster than before.
I opened my eyes with a small, involuntary smile.
Both my progress and Maya’s were exceeding my expectations.
I’d finally hit the limit of my current core.
Which ant only one thing—
It was ti.
Ti to evolve it.
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