Daisuke, Professor Bayley, Osten, and the rest of the adventurers had their mouths agape in complete and utter shock. For a moment, there was nothing but silence until the Professor spoke.
“A-Amazing!” he stammered, his eyes quivering.
While the class erupted in a wave of astonished whispers, Daisuke took a moment to analyze his Stats.
Status Window, he chanted mentally.
[Name: Haxks
Species: Human
Level: 13 | EXP: 4,754/26,406 (18%)
Class: None
Affiliation: Adventurers’ Guild | Merchants’ Guild
Title: Lone Wolf, Pathfinder, Unwavering Spirit, Congenial Denizen, Master of Divine Beast, Devoted Hunter
HP: 894/894 | MP: 1242/1252
Str€ngt#: 0 (+15) | St@m!n@: 0 (+12) | Ag!lit¥: 0 (+25) | !nt€ll!g€nc€: 237 | D€xt€rit¥: 0 (+35) | C0mp0$ur€: 0 | !nd0m!t@bl€: 0
Stat Points: 0]
Daisuke’s eyes widened in alarm. What the hell?
His Status Window flickered wildly, its digital display mimicking the erratic dance of a dying light. The glitch mirrored the effects of the digital seizure that still plagued one of his skills.
Upon closer inspection, a perplexing sight awaited him: all of his Stat Points were mysteriously invested into Intelligence. Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the anomaly ceased, and everything returned to normalcy as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
[Name: Haxks
Species: Human
Level: 13 | EXP: 4,754/26,406 (18%)
Class: None
Affiliation: Adventurers’ Guild | Merchants’ Guild
Title: Lone Wolf, Pathfinder, Unwavering Spirit, Congenial Denizen, Master of Divine Beast, Devoted Hunter
HP: 1499/1499 | MP: 137/147
Strength: 48 (+15) | Stamina: 73 (+12) | Agility: 82 (+25) | Intelligence: 16 | Dexterity: 10 (+35) | Composure: 5 | Indomitable: 3
Stat Points: 0]
As Daisuke grappled with the inexplicable bug… or phenomenon that had affected his Stats, Osten found himself breaking into a nervous sweat. However, a grin still tugged at the corners of his mouth.
It had become abundantly clear to him that Daisuke was a mage—the intimidation that made him flinch in the classroom; the burst of speed in the cafeteria; and now the overwhelming power of his magical attack.
Mages were known for their impressive magical attack power, but they had limited health and pitifully weak defense to boot. In contrast, Osten’s armored suit wasn’t just eye-catching; it boasted incredible physical and magical defense.
If he could turn a fight against Daisuke into one of attrition, he might just drain his mana over time, eventually allowing him to land a significant hit. It would only take one solid strike to bring Daisuke’s HP to a crushing zero.
“Mr. Starfrost,” called Professor Bayley, beckoning to the silver-haired boy with a discreet wave of his hand. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Are you… a mage or a warrior?”
“…I’m a warrior,” Daisuke whispered back, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion.
The man’s expression paled slightly, but he made an effort to maintain his composure. “Very well. Please remain by my side until I instruct otherwise.”
Daisuke frowned inwardly but conceded to the command, his curiosity about the professor’s intentions growing.
“Alright, everyone... that concludes the evaluation for mana output,” the professor declared with a firm nod. “Now let's shift gears and dive into the assessment for physical attack power and combat prowess. Prepare yourselves; we're about to embark on a small tournament.”
His gaze swept over the members of Group B, locking eyes with each student as if challenging them personally. “Each of you will be armed with a wooden weapon and engage in single combat. Once a winner is declared, two more participants will step forward to take their place in the arena.”
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He paused for effect, allowing the anticipation to build. “We'll continue this process until we have our finalists, who will then face off against each other in an ultimate showdown. Only one will emerge victorious.”
Osten, his bitterness clear, gestured to Daisuke and questioned, “And what about him?”
“The finalist will spar against Mr. Starfrost to determine the ultimate victor.”
Osten clenched his teeth in a mixture of annoyance and envy, but the professor paid him no mind.
“Scoring will be based on form, technique, power, and speed,” Professor Bayley explained. “Matches will be decided definitively when I give the call. If there are no further inquiries,” he scanned the assembly, ensuring everyone was attentive, “the first two contestants, please select a weapon and step forward.”
“These insects have no clue who they're up against,” murmured the girl beside Osten, her voice tinged with disdain. She shot a sidelong glance at the other students, her expression a mix of annoyance and superiority. “Even the Professor doesn't seem to know his place.”
“We're the strongest duo in our level range,” the tank added with a scowl. “And we hail from the mightiest guild. Let's show these fetuses what we're made of, Osten; it's high time these rookies learned their goddamn place!”
Osten selected a wooden longsword, his anger simmering beneath a veneer of calm determination. All he could think about was crushing Daisuke and anyone else who dared to challenge him. And that’s precisely what he did; the professor had difficulty scoring the bout as it was entirely a one-sided battle.
As the tournament ensued, Daisuke discreetly used the Eye of Verity to analyze the Stats of every participant. Although the average level of the adventurers was 15, they exhibited varying degrees of skill and technique.
However, no level of ability could compete with the overwhelming advantage of equipment, and this stark reality propelled Osten and his allies forward until only Osten remained standing.
Daisuke seized the opportunity to ask, “Why didn’t you allow me to take part in the preliminaries?”
The professor’s reply came in a hushed tone, “Because I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to properly gauge your capabilities without presenting you with a decent challenge.”
Daisuke didn’t offer a response. Instead, he retrieved a pair of daggers from the weapons rack and positioned himself center stage, his demeanor composed.
Osten, grinning with malice, couldn’t contain his excitement. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he taunted. “I’ll break every damn bone in your body.”
Elena and her companions looked on in dismay. She cupped her hands together and started whispering a prayer, her ears sagging, her tail limp. But Daisuke wasn’t worried, nor was he nervous. He held Osten’s gaze nonchalantly, ignoring the spite and hate that emanated from them.
Eye of Verity, he chanted the skill mentally.
[Name: Osten
Species: Human
Level: 19 | EXP: 27,478/56,406 (48.7%)
Class: Warrior
Affiliation: Adventures’ Guild | Dragonsbane Guild
Title: None
HP: 2655/2655 | MP: 82/82
Strength: 120 (+10) | Stamina: 40 (+5) | Agility: 25 (+5) | Intelligence: 5 (+6)
Stat Points: 0]
Before Daisuke could browse the skills section, Osten charged forth with a primal roar, his eyes ablaze with a wild fervor that hinted of madness. He was evidently unconcerned with caution, his reckless advance mirroring his confidence in both his equipment and his own power.
Maintaining his composure, Daisuke faced his adversary's oncoming sword, its menacing arc rising from the ground. Swiftly crossing his wooden daggers, he met the attack head-on, then seamlessly transitioned into a backflip in the same beat.
Professor Bayley watched intently. Impressive! He leapt backwards at just the right moment to avoid taking the full brunt of the blow. That was quick thinking.
Daisuke frowned, time seeming to slow to a crawl. He's level 19... six levels above me,” he mused inwardly, his mind racing to calculate the implications. But if I factor in my total Stat Points, theoretically, that would put me at level 24... or 32 if I include the bonus Stats.
The instant Daisuke’s feet touched the ground, his body leaned forward, and then he vanished in the blink of an eye.
Osten paled, his eyes darting from side to side. He’s fast!
Suddenly, a dagger whizzed toward him from the side. With a grunt, he turned to deflect the projectile. It spun in the air. But it was all but a distraction; Daisuke had already repositioned himself behind him, as if materializing there, his dagger breaching the gap between his armor plates at the hip.
Osten winced, his expression tightening, but he quickly regained his composure, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “Crescent Moon Slash!” he roared, invoking a skill.
His wooden sword shimmered, emanating a crimson arc of light reminiscent of a mana-forged projectile as he swung it with all his might. Yet, to his dismay, it met nothing but empty air. Daisuke had vanished without a trace, as elusive as a fleeting mirage in the desert sands.
CLASP!
Daisuke caught the dagger that was about to hit the ground, butterscotch eyes gleaming fiercely. Brandishing both weapons, he unleashed a barrage of blinding attacks on Osten, like a whirlwind, targeting the small gaps in his armor.
Overwhelmed, Osten’s eyes snapped open in outrage. “Shell Break!” he bellowed, activating another skill.
Daisuke leaped back in time as a transparent barrier momentarily expanded outward from Osten’s body, like a jagged stone wall.
Daisuke’s eyes flashed calculatingly.
Timing the precise moment the spell would dissipate, he charged in. Osten raised his sword, poised to attack or defend, but a familiar skill from the enemy had his entire body grinding to a halt like a rusty gearbox in dire need of repair.
Intimidate! Daisuke uttered, invoking the skill.
Helplessly, behind his helmet's visor, Osten's eyes widened in horror as a dagger halted mere inches from his face, its wooden edge poised menacingly. With a mixture of shock and disbelief, he shifted his gaze from the weapon to its wielder, just in time to witness a head of silver hair being raised, revealing a pair of butterscotch eyes blinking open.
“Checkmate,” Daisuke declared, his voice calm and confident, which was followed by the chant, “Magic Missile.”
PHSSSHHH!
An explosion erupted, sending Osten hurtling to the ground like a discarded puppet. His once-imposing helmet lay in ruins, shattered by the force of the blast, leaving his face and armor scorched. He bore a stupefied expression as his body lay sprawled on the ground.
“And we have our victor,” Professor Bayley announced, bringing the match to its conclusion.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Elena and her friends embraced each other, jumping up and down with joy.
Meanwhile, Osten’s lackeys hurried over to give him a helping hand, but he clicked his tongue and shunned them bitterly, a murderous gaze fixated on the bastard who had just bested him—no, shamed him in front of dozens of people.