Chapter 37 …
Storm Test Taker (6)
They say that what you see depends on where you stand.
When you’re a rookie, you only see the work in front of you. But once you become a team leader, you start to notice how the company operates, the industry trends, and so on.
It was the same for Lee Taeri, who was participating as an examiner this time.
“When I took the Hunter Exam, I was just scared and overwhelmed.”
She remembered how she had once abandoned her usual neat, controlled magic and desperately slaughtered goblins just to survive.
But after gaining experience and being able to observe from a more detached position, she understood something:
“A goblin with bloodshot, crazy eyes is just… terrifying.”
They charged without caring about their injuries, eyes glowing red. And it wasn’t just one or two of them—it was a swarm.
The only ways to escape from that mob were:
Kill all the goblins, or
Never be spotted in the first place, like Han Jincheol sitting quietly atop a tree using a stealth item.
Lee Taeri cloaked herself in shadows to avoid detection and sent a telepathic message to Jincheol.
Lee Taeri: “You’re keeping an eye from up there, right? If things get dangerous, don’t hesitate to step in.”
Jincheol: “Looking at it, I doubt that’ll be necessary. There’s a reason they call him a prepared genius.”
Lee Taeri: “Yeah… true.”
She nodded slightly and turned her gaze toward Oh Sangsoo, who was rampaging through the goblins.
“Get lost!!”
Fwoosh—!
Every time Oh Sangsoo swung his spear, flames burst out, scorching nearby goblins.
“Judging by the power, that’s not explosion magic.”
Sparks were shooting intermittently from the spear. It seemed to be a specially crafted weapon, and he was using ignition magic to amplify the sparks—boosting firepower while minimizing mana consumption.
“Smart. Using equipment to overcome his limits.”
For a Hunter, mana was a precious resource—the less you used, the better.
Jincheol: “And look at that control—he’s making sure no stray sparks ignite the forest.”
Lee Taeri: “With that skill, he could’ve beaten me when I was E-rank.”
Jincheol: “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have done much better.”
Lee Taeri: “Kids these days are scary…”
Lee Taeri clicked her tongue and mentally assessed the examinees’ overall level.
Jincheol: “They’re definitely stronger than when we took the exam.”
Lee Taeri: “No doubt.”
Kim Sooho was blocking the goblins’ frontal assault like a solid wall.
Yoo Jiho used wind magic to deflect incoming javelins after the first volley, and sometimes even redirected them back at other goblins—earning extra credit.
Of course, not everyone was doing well.
Three examinees who had confidently insisted on a “quick and decisive victory” earlier were now barely holding their ground.
“Cover this side!”
“H–Here they come!”
“Ugh…”
They were struggling just to protect themselves from the charging goblins.
“If their skills were lacking, they wouldn’t have made it this far.”
The truth was simple: they had the ability to fight goblins—but they lacked the resolve to get their hands bloody.
Jincheol: “Those who can’t make that resolve won’t survive as Hunters.”
Lee Taeri: “Exactly. That’s what the practical exam is ultimately testing.”
Written exams, ability assessments, and interviews already evaluated their skills.
The practical exam was the final step—to see if they could apply that in a real fight.
Without the resolve to kill, no amount of skill would save them.
Eventually, they’d either die themselves or get someone else killed.
Lee Taeri’s gaze shifted to Shin Woo, who had remained quiet since the goblins began their assault.
“Which side are you on?”
His ability was excellent—he’d been the first to sense the goblin ambush. But after the fighting started, he only deflected attacks directed at him with telekinesis, staying passive.
Jincheol: “He hasn’t steeled himself to kill.”
Lee Taeri: “No. Look at his face. That’s not fear—it’s composure.”
Jincheol: “He’s… calm.”
Lee Taeri: “Something’s going on.”
Lee Taeri trusted her instincts. She was occasionally wrong—but usually right.
Then she noticed it:
A faint web of mana, so subtle that even she needed her detection skill to catch it, was spreading out from Shin Woo like spider threads, covering the battlefield.
“What on earth is he planning…?”
Right as she wondered that, Shin Woo took a deep breath and raised his black staff.
⚡ Mana surged.
No one on the battlefield understood what was happening—until the goblins, who’d been like berserkers moments before, suddenly let out terrified cries.
And then their feet began to lift off the ground one by one.
Everyone realized it at the same time:
Shin Woo had levitated almost all the goblins on the battlefield into the air.
“KIEEEEKK!!”
“KRRKEEEK!!”
Goblins flailed desperately, trying not to be pulled up. The onlookers could only stare, mouths agape.
Then Shin Woo let go of his staff, pointing to the sky.
“Fall. All of you.”
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
CRACK—!
The forest echoed with dull crashes and the horrifying sound of bones shattering.
The air filled with the stench of blood.
Lee Taeri absentmindedly wiped the blood splattered on her cheek, dazed—yet her mage’s curiosity didn’t stop analyzing.
“Falling via telekinesis? No… telekinesis alone couldn’t create that kind of impact.”
Lifting that many goblins simultaneously required additional magic. For example…
“…Like ‘Flight.’”
“Ah.”
Realizing this, she staggered against a nearby tree. Her head spun. A strange heat flushed her face, and a chilling shiver ran down her spine.
Lee Taeri: “Jincheol oppa.”
Jincheol: “…I’m listening.”
Lee Taeri: “I’ve met all kinds of people in this industry. From self-proclaimed geniuses to actual prodigies who worked their asses off.”
She had watched people closely since childhood, so she knew.
Jincheol: “And sometimes, once in a very, very long while…”
Jincheol: “…a true genius appears?”
Lee Taeri: “No.”
She shook her head firmly.
A genius was still someone understandable within the realm of common sense.
But Shin Woo? He was something beyond comprehension.
“We call them monsters.”
She fiddled with the badge on her chest. She could already picture the reactions of the higher-ups who had been watching this from the start:
First, shock. Then denial. Then, acceptance and applause.
And then, they’d rush to spread word of what they witnessed, as if it were a sin to keep it secret.
Those who hadn’t seen it would refuse to believe, fights would break out, and the industry would split between those wanting change and those resisting it.
Jincheol: “Things are going to get messy.”
Lee Taeri: “And there’s no way we can avoid the spotlight, is there?”
Jincheol: “Nope.”
They, as examiners, would inevitably be dragged into it.
Jincheol: “Better get ready for overtime and parroting the same story over and over.”
Lee Taeri: “Damn it.”
Jincheol: “Hey, at least we’ll get free food. And when else would we ever witness a natural disaster in human form?”
She laughed softly, recalling the message she’d sent earlier to Oh Hana, a talented junior she’d been trying to invite for lunch.
“Well… I wasn’t lying after all.”
Lee Taeri looked at Shin Woo with glowing, expectant eyes—not as an examiner, but as a fellow Hunter.
Meanwhile, Shin Woo took a deep breath, stunned.
“I… actually pulled that off?”
When he’d first noticed the goblins, he’d been optimistic. He knew how capable his team was from their profiles.
“No way we’d lose to goblins.”
But reality was different. There were far more goblins than expected, and even the elite academy examinees were panicking.
Some, like Jiho, at least supported the fight with wind magic. Others were just screaming about retreating.
He decided something had to be done—and prepared that spell.
“Flight can’t be cast on others, but parts of its formula might work with telekinesis… so I tried it.”
With the black staff amplifying it, this was the result.
The battlefield was now a slasher film scene, littered with goblin corpses. Even if they were monsters, the sight made his stomach churn.
“Good thing I’ve got my Mental Stabilization and Coolheadedness skills running overtime.”
Without them, he probably couldn’t have done something like this.
Facing murderous intent and returning it in kind isn’t something you can do with vague resolve.
“Honestly, I can’t even blame those three for hesitating.”
They were serious about this test—he’d seen it in their actions. They just didn’t have enough experience.
But Oh Sangsoo thought differently.
“Damn it, if you’re not going to fight seriously, get the hell out! Don’t drag the rest of us down!”
“H-Hey, that’s a bit harsh—”
“Harsh? Did you forget who cleaned up the mess they made? Me and Sooho almost died back there!”
“…Right.”
“If they hadn’t been there, one of us might’ve been dead!”
He shouted while pointing at Shin Woo, clearly heated.
The others stepped in to calm things down—but that was when it happened.
DOONG— DOODOONG— DOONG!
“KIEEEEEEK!!”
A deep, primitive drumbeat echoed from afar, followed by a mana-filled roar that shook the forest.
Everyone instinctively understood:
It was the boss’s roar, seething with fury.
They could feel something powerful stirring in that direction.
“Tch.”
Oh Sangsoo clicked his tongue, slung his spear over his shoulder, and turned.
“What are you doing, tank? Get in front!”
“Hah… yeah.”
Everyone silently agreed to postpone the argument until after the boss fight.
Shin Woo exhaled, relieved that the tense mood had eased, and moved to the back line when—
“Hey, you’re Sung Shin Woo, right?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Stand behind me. You must be low on mana.”
He nodded obediently. In truth, he still had plenty of mana left, but Sangsoo’s earlier display had intimidated him.
Sangsoo glanced back and said:
“You just focus on gathering mana. Sooho and I will clear the way.”
He pointed his chin toward Sooho in the lead. It was surprisingly considerate, given his earlier outburst.
“Probably because he thinks I’ll be useful later…”
Shin Woo gave a bitter smile.
“Multiple enemies up ahead.”
“Boss?”
“I see it. But it’s definitely not a warrior.”
“What?”
Sooho’s words were true.
Atop a rocky altar stood an old goblin, chanting loudly.
[Goblin Shaman (Boss)]
With every shout, goblins banged their crude drums, and the mana around the altar swirled violently.
He was clearly conducting a ritual—and that was never good news for them.
“Damn it! Charge!!”
“Go for the boss! Don’t touch the altar carelessly!”
The examinees rushed forward to stop the ritual.
Shin Woo joined in—but his eyes were drawn not to the shaman, but to the stone tower behind it.
It looked like part of the altar, crudely built. But he felt something inside it calling to him.
And then, a message appeared before his eyes.
[“The Master of the Tower” reacts to the “Lost Relic.”]
But that wasn’t all.
[Mage A gains new insight while researching “Flight.”]
[You have acquired “Acceleration Lv.1.”]
