Chapter 5
“Huff.”
Wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead, Uriel stepped out of the indoor training hall.
Today, she had swung her weapons exactly ten thousand times. Strictly speaking, “exactly” was a bit misleading—she had only counted swings executed with perfect form. Everything else wasn’t counted at all.
In other words, the total number of times Uriel had swung a weapon today far exceeded ten thousand.
A true testament to her effort. A training fiend.
Yet, her practical combat performance remained at rock-bottom.
Her endurance and willpower were unmatched, but she lacked the one thing that truly mattered: talent. She was, in short, untalented.
There was a reason the instructors and teachers at the academy had given Uriel such a label.
Still, she neither grew angry nor despaired. She trained, tirelessly, day after day.
She believed that one day, she would reach their level—or rather, she would.
“Now, back to the dorm… hmm, so much to review.”
The Teresia Academy didn’t just teach swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, or magic.
There were lessons in the Imperial language, literature, politics, history, engineering, and mathematics.
And then there were horseback riding, swimming, even golf—all taught systematically and professionally.
It made sense. This wasn’t just a military training ground—it was an academy for noble cadets. Naturally, the curriculum reflected that.
“If I want to avoid academic probation, I have to rank well in theory at least.”
Her practical skills might be the worst, but luckily, her theoretical knowledge was top-tier.
She couldn’t afford even a moment of negligence—everything demanded her utmost effort.
As Uriel walked, lost in thought, she noticed something unusual.
“…?”
The training hall seemed noisier than usual.
Was there some kind of quarrel during sparring? A fight breaking out?
Childish, yet surprisingly common, especially among noble students whose duels were about more than personal pride—they carried family honor.
“Wait a moment. I’ll just pass through.”
Curious, Uriel moved toward the center of the hall, weaving past spectators.
“Huff… huff!”
She spotted a male student panting heavily.
A closer look made her eyes widen. It was… Erich?
Erich Lanstat! Without a doubt.
One of the academy’s top students, a prodigy in both theory and combat. Every instructor who had tested him had praised him with a fond smile: “Perfect.” Uriel remembered this clearly.
And now… he was sent flying backward in a single blow.
“Ugh!”
Thud! He rolled across the floor, dust and dirt covering his pristine appearance in an instant.
“Somewhat… disappointing,”
Uriel instinctively turned her gaze toward the one who had sent Erich sprawling.
It was none other than Instructor Deus—the very same one who had been subtly defied yesterday.
“Deus sparring with Erich? All of a sudden?”
She paused. Even an instructor… could they really act like that? Erich was, after all, a noble heir. Surely some warning would come from above.
“Uriel Reich.”
“Y-Yes?”
Her name called suddenly, she snapped to attention.
“Perfect timing. Come up here.”
“Me…?”
“Yes. You.”
Her heart sank. A sparring match with an instructor. The outcome was already decided.
And judging by what she had seen moments ago, there was no intention of holding back.
Then why call her?
“…Could it be… some kind of punishment for my attitude yesterday?”
That seemed likely. Yes. Deus calling her here now must be a consequence of her insolent behavior.
Uriel gritted her teeth, forcing herself to take heavy steps toward the center of the training hall.
Before sparring Erich, she had worried—her body and mind might not sync, she might lose control and cause injury.
Moments ago, she had been someone else entirely—a mere gamer, a video-maker, accustomed only to light exercise.
Would she, suddenly possessing this body, fail to control her strength and endanger others?
“….”
In the end, her fears were unfounded.
This body was hers.
All the past battles, all the bloodshed, all the desperate fights for survival—they were hers. Every skill and reflex belonged to her.
A few touches, and Erich went rolling across the floor.
He was a B-rank student, absurdly skilled, but here, she realized she could handle him without breaking a sweat.
“Somewhat… disappointing,” she had said of him before. That comment had to be retracted—compared to Uriel, Erich was far superior in skill, but the contrast in their preparedness was clear.
Finally, Deus turned to her.
“Uriel Reich.”
“Yes?”
“Perfect timing. Come up here.”
She stepped forward, gripping the swords at her waist.
“The weapons…?”
“Use whatever you’re most confident with.”
Uriel drew her swords, nervous but resolute.
“…Is that all?”
“Yes. I’m ready… huff… ready.”
She was ready. Uriel’s lack of performance became clear instantly.
Name: Uriel Reich (E-rank)
Traits: Unyielding will, romantic, dual swords, understands darkness, magic swordsman
Growth Potential: Catastrophic
Her E-rank and fragile growth potential could be fixed; her traits, however, were fixed. Dual swords were essential. One sword halved her potential.
Magic? She had barely studied it. Madness.
Uriel had to experience this sparring, to discover her own weaknesses firsthand.
She launched her first attack with a short kiai—a simple thrust.
Deus lightly deflected it, shifting her balance.
“If this were a demon, that side would’ve been sliced off already.”
She needed both swords. She needed magic. There was no alternative. Failure meant death.
“One more time.”
Uriel’s strikes grew clumsy, her face reddened from exertion. Her stamina waned, yet Deus continued, sparing her from finishing blows.
Eventually, the scenario Deus had envisioned unfolded: Uriel’s left hand empty, but ready to learn.
She paused, breathing heavily, exhausted yet burning with determination.
“Uriel, you know your weaknesses. That will serve you far more than my praise.”
“…Yes, Instructor.”
“But your will to fight to the end is commendable. With that, one day, you will reach the level you aspire to.”
Later that day, Deus was summoned by the academy president.
“Deus, my boy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I hope you didn’t push her too hard in front of everyone.”
Ah. The Erich match. Deus protested, explaining he had only followed protocol, allowing Erich to request the sparring.
The president’s reaction, however, was strange.
“I meant Uriel, not him. Talentless students must be pruned carefully, or rumors will spread.”
“…Something about this seems off.”
