1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

85. Written Exam (1)

Magic is like a potent liquor.

If one drinks too much, the brain’s nerves become damaged, the mind deteriorates, and ultimately, it leads to death.

Of course, that doesn’t apply to me.

[Excessive magic has been detected.]

[1-second invincibility is activated.]

[1-second invincibility cooldown: 60 seconds]

Once the capacity is exceeded, the magic within the body vanishes due to the ‘1-second invincibility.’

Therefore, it was necessary to know where the limit of magic I could hold lay.

And now, after countless attempts, I had finally succeeded in grasping what it felt like to contain magic up to 97 percent.

“This is quite astonishing. It’s rare to be able to recognize what constitutes an appropriate amount. There are plenty who have gone mad from overindulgence.”

Hederson released my palm, marveling.

“Is it possible to make that mistake?”

“Magic is a cunning force that deceives the brain. It’s akin to a kind of addictive substance. Just like drugs, if you keep using it, your senses become distorted. You start to question whether this is indeed the right amount. Is it too little? Eventually, you end up increasing the amount you take in little by little.”

Hmm, I wouldn’t know much about such wickedness, but it seems somewhat similar to coffee.

Drinking it in hopes of awakening effects leads to caffeine tolerance, making one drink more.

But that’s all irrelevant to me.

Even if my senses were to become distorted, thanks to the ‘1-second invincibility,’ I wouldn’t be ruined.

“By the way, you brought it today, right?”

Hederson licked his lips, asking.

I placed the bundle I had set on the floor onto the lectern.

—

The contents were dishes wrapped from the restaurant.

“Of course. They say a ghost that died with a full belly looks good.”

“This insolent brat. Even when he speaks, he just…”

Lately, I had been bringing food to Henderson every day of class.

A gesture of goodwill, in a way.

Besides, it’s not like a death row inmate gets a salary; some form of compensation is necessary to make the classes more earnest, don’t you think?

Henderson ravenously bit into the meat.

“Mmm, much better than cold bread.”

Old Professor cleared his throat.

“Food for a death row inmate is always like this. So be grateful that I’m turning a blind eye to such luxuries.”

Ignoring the grumbling of the old professor, Henderson quickly cleared his plate.

I handed him a bag filled with cookies for dessert.

“What’s that?”

“Cookies baked by our maid who started working at the café.”

They were ginger cookies, but they didn’t suit my taste.

Since Selly made them according to my mother’s recipe, I felt it would be rude to refuse, so I just took one and ate it.

Henderson bit into a cookie and pursed his lips.

“Oh, ginger cookies! I never dreamed I’d get to taste a hometown snack here!”

“Isn’t it a common treat?”

“Of course not. This is a traditional snack from our region.”

Sucking his fingers wasn’t very mature, and I felt a pang of sympathy watching him.

Then suddenly, curiosity stirred within me.

“Don’t you have any regrets?”

“Huh? About what?”

“Just… if you had known it would turn out like this, wouldn’t you have made different choices?”

Henderson snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re still young, so you don’t understand how this country works. Even if I could go back to the past, I’d kill that b*stard again.”

He seemed to be referring to the commander of the Third Order of the Empire he had slain.

If he hadn’t meddled, perhaps he wouldn’t have ended up like this.

From what I heard, he was caught not long after, exhausted and worn out.

“Still, there is one thing I regret, aside from this.”

Henderson’s face softened with nostalgia as he extended his pinky finger, a sly grin creeping across his lips.

The gesture was one that crudely depicted a girlfriend, a lewd mimicry of affection.

“Truth is, there was a woman I lived with, strong-willed and audacious, quite captivating. Of course, she was far too good for a scoundrel like me—diligent and composed.”

“So, you’re saying she finally couldn’t take it anymore and left you? Must have been a real pain in the neck.”

“Ah, this again…”

Henderson clutched the back of his neck, exhaling a heavy sigh.

“Ugh, getting worked up only drains me. Whatever. Anyway, half of that is true, and half is not. It was the day I received the offer to become a warden of the shadows. At that time, she told me to refuse it. Just shake off everything and live a normal life. Well, you can guess what happened next. While I was out working, she packed her things and left. All that remained was a note that read, ‘You b*stard, may you choke on your own fate.’ If I have any regrets, it’s that decision from that day.”

“‘May you choke on your own fate’… Is that some sort of local dialect?”

“Well, something like that.”

His expression was so heavy that I offered what little comfort I could.

“Still, you’re doing alright, aren’t you? A bold spirit is easy to adapt anywhere.”

“Fool. She died before me.”

“…”

“Well, that’s how it is. I’d rather she had lived well; I often wonder what would have happened if I had listened to her.”

Henderson seemed embarrassed to speak such words, letting out a hollow laugh.

“Goodness, I’ve spilled useless words to you. I suppose it’s time for me to go.”

“It wasn’t so bad. There’s a certain humanity to it, you know?”

Henderson averted his gaze from me, glancing sideways.

“This time, you’re holding on quite well.”

A candlestick made of pure gold.

On top of it, a lump of metal the size of a pillow.

The magic was beginning to wane.

The candlestick melted into liquid, and the metal lump plummeted.

Crash!

A hole was punched through the desk.

The weight was enough to crack the stone floor beneath.

“Phew, that’s it for me.”

“Think of it as building muscle and keep at it without fail. Soon enough, you’ll be able to shape it with the hardness of steel.”

As I grinned, the old professor began to thrash about in a fit of excitement.

“What a mess! What are you going to do about the ruined desk? And the floor, what of that!!”

“That’s something the inspiration should have prevented.”

“I merely followed the lesson plan.”

I hurriedly slipped away before the sound of compensation could escape those lips.

* * *

Returning to my dorm room, I placed a dish at the door once more.

While the black cat indulged in its meal, I unfurled my textbooks.

It was a concept close to review.

I had long since mastered the exam material.

Whenever I found myself with nothing to do, I had been preparing for the second semester in bits and pieces.

Strangely enough, the calculation problems seemed so easy that I had ample time to devote to other subjects.

Well, today’s review was done.

“Shall I go check on Limberton and see how he’s faring?”

I was on my way out, a novel and a chair in hand.

Just as the black cat, which should have vanished by now, approached, it began to rub its cheek against my leg.

‘Oh, how surprising. Have you finally opened your heart to me?’

‘After all I’ve fed you, a simple thank you is only natural.’

The cat let out a single meow and vanished like smoke.

‘It won’t be long now.’

‘Hmm? What do you mean?’

‘There’s something to it.’

As I descended the stairs, the air was already thick with warmth.

The lobby of the Shulafe dormitory was filled with stoves.

It had become a recent routine for the residents to bring makeshift stoves instead of studying in their rooms.

I watched the dormitory supervisor casually open a window for ventilation as I made my way to where Limberton was.

“Oh, you’re here?”

“Have you been studying well?”

“…Lately, I feel like I hear that at least ten times a day. I’m working hard, you know. So please, stop asking.”

Confident, aren’t we?

Shall I throw in a surprise question?

“What is the code of conduct in the event of an unexpected separation from the unit in the magic realm?”

Limberton scratched his head, feigning a search through his pockets.

“Break the signal stick.”

Upon entering the magic realm, one is issued a stick no thicker than a pair of chopsticks.

This object was crafted from a material that resonated with magical properties.

When broken, it would emit a surge of magic, causing the signal sticks of those nearby to flicker with light, the colors being of three distinct kinds.

“What color stick should be broken when isolated?”

“Black.”

“Correct. Then what about red?”

“That would be… Ah, a danger signal?”

The black signaled disappearance.

The red was a warning sent when enemies appeared or in times of crisis.

“And the last one?”

“Blue. It signifies when a target is found.”

The blue was the signal of mission completion.

To see that light usually meant one had discovered treasure or unearthed a hidden dungeon.

This was the task of a Pathfinder in the magic realm, and upon seeing blue, one could simply prepare to go home and take a shower.

“Right.”

Limberton puffed out his chest with pride.

To boast about having learned the most fundamental basics was laughable.

Yet, he seemed to have studied hard in his own way, so I held my tongue.

“Don’t get cocky. You took three hours to memorize what I could read once.”

“Ugh.”

Limberton’s face fell as he opened the textbook.

I glanced at Asley beside me.

His hands turned the pages with a serious expression.

The frequency with which he had touched the imperial language dictionary had noticeably diminished.

“Hmm.”

In truth, if one were to consider it, this fellow was taking the exam under the most challenging conditions compared to Limberton.

Aside from his clumsiness with the imperial language, his unique traits meant he could only answer 60 percent of the multiple-choice questions correctly.

—

Thus, there was a glimmer of hope only if I could answer all the subjective questions that made up half of the exam.

Unlike selecting a number, the answers written in words would not trigger the curse of my nature.

I tore my gaze away from the two diligent souls studying hard and settled into my chair, opening my book.

The sounds of scratching pens and the murmurs of memorization filled the air, yet they did not particularly disturb me.

However, the woman who suddenly cast a shadow was an exception.

“What are you reading instead of studying?” Atla asked, her voice trembling.

Her face was awash with a palpable anxiety.

“Genre fiction.”

“What? With less than two weeks until the exam, can you afford to be so carefree? You even boasted about coming in first on the written test.”

“Did I? But why does that matter?”

As I half-opened my eyes to question her, I noticed a tremor in Atla’s pupils.

A spark of intuition ignited within me, and I grinned slyly.

“Did you place a bet on me?”

“…How could you know that?”

“Ah, this is delightful! I don’t know where you found your confidence, but it’s a wise judgment.”

Still, it irked me.

How dare she try to use me for her own gain without permission?

“I’m studying for at least thirty minutes a day, but what should I do about this? There are more difficult questions than I expected.”

Atla’s face turned pale, as if the stakes were anything but trivial.

“Then shouldn’t you study hard right now? I’ll help you. How about this? Sleep for just three hours a day, and spend the remaining twenty-one hours studying.”

Atla urged me with a desperate tone, but I raised my chin arrogantly.

“I don’t need your guidance. Instead, give me half of your earnings. Then I’ll study for you.”

“Half?!”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Fine, fine! Just please do it. Okay?”

With no other choice, I pretended to read the textbook.

Atla kept casting anxious glances my way, her worry palpable.

She must be on the brink of despair.

—

—

Indeed, I had invested much in the club, so the amount I put forth felt disappointingly small.

Thanks to that, the expected profits would surely rise.

* * *

The day of the written exam.

In the first-year magic department classroom, all the students from the dormitory stared intently at their textbooks, desperate to answer even one more question correctly.

Particularly, Rockefeller, who had taken it upon himself to oversee the exam, kept his gaze fixed on the entrance.

“They say he’s been boasting about achieving first place in the year? That arrogant brat… I’ll see if he can actually pull it off.”

He had crafted questions that were hardly ever covered in class.

Even if they received minor tutoring from upperclassmen, they wouldn’t be able to solve them.

The number of questions had doubled, and there were even some he had created himself.

Moreover, even if Hershel managed to score well, there was no need for concern.

“The one who scored full marks on the entrance exam wasn’t just you. Hershel van Tenest.”

It was the exact same exam paper as Hershel’s.

Rockefeller smirked as he glanced at a man comfortably leaning back in his chair.

He sat leisurely, arms crossed, glasses resting on the desk, eyes closed.

“That fellow is a prodigy who entered the Adel Hall. If all goes well, he’ll likely score full marks again on this exam.”

At that moment, footsteps echoed, and the man’s eyes fluttered open.

At the entrance, the talk of the town had finally made an appearance.

As whispers of “Hershel” began to circulate, a spectacle unfolded.

All the students looked up at his face, murmuring among themselves.

“He says he’ll come in first? I thought he’d make excuses to back out, fearing embarrassment.”

“Thanks to him, my coins have increased. Quite well, indeed.”

“I wonder if he’s cheating on the exam.”

Hershel scanned the crowd, parting his lips.

“Did you know? Recently, the kids from our Shulafe Hall have been studying very hard. So, about that…”

He lifted his chin as if looking down upon the world, a haughty smile gracing his lips.

His deep, resonant voice followed.

“Those who score lower than my kids should return their dormitory spots and go die. They’re not worth living.”

The sound of pens snapping echoed from all corners.