The old man sat in front of me, his hand resting on his chin, lost in deep thought.

“So, you absorbed the Fragment...”

His voice held both awe and doubt at once.

“There shouldn’t be any problems. Even Gwangcheol’s test showed nothing wrong.”

I explained to him the process by which I absorbed the Fragment.

Of course, I left out the part where I traveled back in time and stayed there for seven days.

I gave a vague, half-truthful explanation.

A brief silence followed.

“Who else knows?”

One person immediately came to mind.

Kang Arin.

She knows I absorbed the Fragment.

Though I had no idea where she was now.

“Kang Arin. Kang Arin knows.”

I spoke her name aloud.

“Kang Arin? From Glory?”

Park Gwangcheol, who had been quietly listening beside us, reacted.

I nodded to him.

“Tiring, isn’t it~”

He muttered under his breath.

The old man still had his eyes closed, as if piecing his thoughts together.

Silence lingered for a while, heavy in the air.

Eventually, the old man opened his eyes slowly and spoke with a deep sigh.

“...It was only a matter of time before you were exposed to the world.”

His voice carried both resignation and resolve.

“I suppose... it’s time to accept it.”

With that, he stood from his seat.

He walked to the door with heavy steps, opened it, glanced back at me, and said one last thing.

“Take care.”

I quietly watched his back as he left.

I understood how he felt.

He had lost his daughter—Sion’s mother—to the demons.

She had been a hero with dazzling talent.

But the demons had feared her potential and ultimately killed her.

Since that day, the old man had changed.

Even as he trained and raised both Sion and me, he never allowed us to be exposed to the world.

He had even strongly opposed our enrollment at Gaon at first.

But eventually, he gave in and accepted it, bending his own beliefs.

Even after the door closed, silence lingered in the room for a while.

The one to break it was Park Gwangcheol.

“You’re going back to Gaon, right?”

I gave a short reply.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

He didn’t react to my answer.

Then, out of the blue, he asked,

“Hm... midterms are coming up, right?”

Given the timing, that was probably true.

“Yeah.”

Park Gwangcheol gave a faint smile, the corners of his lips lifting.

“Alright. Got it.”

There was something oddly unreadable in that smile.

***

I returned to Gaon.

[Sion]: Haein, Ara told me. Something happened, right?

In front of the dormitory door.

My watch buzzed with a vibration.

I checked Sion’s message and replied with a short response.

At the same time, I opened ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) the door.

But the moment I stepped inside the room—

“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The day I returned from Mount Baekdu, the Association had handed me the Dongbaek Sword, and I’d left it lying on the floor of my room.

Now, that very sword had taken root on the living room floor.

Crimson vines had extended out from the blade’s body.

They sprawled across the room, transforming it into a complete jungle.

The furniture was wrapped up in vines, their shapes completely unrecognizable.

Even the ceiling was covered in tangled branches, resembling the canopy of a greenhouse.

I let out a long sigh and grabbed the machete I’d hung nearby.

“When the hell am I gonna clean all this up...”

Slashing at the vines blocking my way, I pushed deeper toward the center of the room.

There, embedded in the middle of the living room, was the Dongbaek Sword—glimmering cheerfully, as if it were in a great mood.

And then—

Swish!

I yanked the sword out, scabbard and all.

As the roots connected to the blade began to sever one by one, the vines that had clung to everything started to wither, like they had reached the end of their lifespan.

‘I need to give this to her soon.’

This wouldn’t be a problem if the weapon had found a proper owner.

I stared down at the sword, lost in thought.

Yu Hana and I were supposed to not only go for morning runs together but also start partner training.

I checked the time. 11:00 p.m.

Too late to meet now, but I should at least set something up for tomorrow.

I opened my watch and typed out a quick message.

[Jeong Haein]: Hana, are you free to partner up tomorrow?

But just as I was about to close the watch and start picking up the wilted vines—

Ding!

Not even ten seconds had passed before I got a reply.

[Yu Hana]: Partner?? What partner?? Either way, I’m in.

Fast response.

I immediately texted back.

[Jeong Haein]: The partner training I mentioned before. I also have something to give you.

[Yu Hana]: Ah... right, I remember. How about tomorrow at 6 p.m., Training Hall B?

I replied briefly: Sounds good, and closed the watch.

Training Hall B was the closest facility to the dormitory.

But now the question was—how the hell was I going to hand this over?

No matter how you looked at it, the Dongbaek Sword wasn’t an ordinary item.

Given her personality, she wasn’t the type to just accept it if I offered it out of nowhere...

‘Wait.’

Wasn’t this kind of a pointless worry?

Now that I thought about it, I could just shove it into her hand.

Problem solved.

I tied the sword to the ceiling light fixture, letting it dangle there.

At least this way, it wouldn’t try to root itself into the floor again.

It was already 11 p.m.

‘Screw it, I’m going to sleep.’

No more overthinking. It had been a long, exhausting day.

***

Another perfectly timed arrival—exactly 9:00 a.m.

As usual, I entered through the back door and headed to my assigned seat.

And there, sitting in that spot, was Cheon Yeoul.

I sat beside her without saying much.

“Hey.”

I greeted her casually.

But Cheon Yeoul didn’t respond. She simply stared at me.

Her gaze was sharp, as if she were examining every part of my body in detail.

And soon after, a radiant joy began to spread across her face.

“Yesterday’s class wasn’t anything special, right?”

I tried to spark a normal conversation.

But she was still smiling like she was entranced.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

After staring at me for several seconds like that, she finally seemed to snap out of it and opened her mouth.

“Y-yeah...”

Cheon Yeoul had her hands folded neatly in her lap and lowered her head, shyly avoiding eye contact.

Normally, she’d be full of energy, chatting without restraint, but now she was sitting properly, unusually reserved.

“What’s with you this morning?”

I tried to keep the conversation casual, but she still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

Her fingers fidgeted, as though she was hesitating about something.

Then, finally, she spoke—very carefully.

“It’s just... well...”

“Just?”

“You look... kind of different...”

She stole a quick glance at my face, then turned away again, her cheeks turning red.

I tapped my desk with my fingers.

As expected, even someone like her—a Saint candidate—must have instinctively sensed the change in me.

After all, the energy of the Fragment and divine power do share a certain affinity.

But before she could ask more—

Clack.

The front door of the classroom opened.

Instructor Do Hanseong walked in, looking as composed as always.

He made his way to the podium and opened the attendance book with his usual unreadable expression.

“Kang Arin.”

A short silence.

She wasn’t here today.

Without any further comment, Do Hanseong finished taking attendance and immediately began the lecture. It wasn’t anything significant.

Just a deep-dive theory class on various weapons.

While the theory itself was important, considering the combat-heavy curriculum for weapon-based training, this wasn’t a particularly crucial session.

I half-listened, letting the words pass through one ear and out the other.

As the atmosphere in the room started to loosen and attention began to drift—

Do Hanseong looked out at the students and spoke slowly.

“As I mentioned on Monday, starting next week, it’s midterm season.”

The class stirred.

Midterms.

Gaon’s first midterm exams were notorious.

They weren’t just about grades.

Here, exams were a direct value assessment.

Among students, they were better known as “The Bidding Round.”

Just like the name suggested, midterm results weren’t simply scored and filed away—guilds, organizations, and even individual teams would attend the exams to observe, evaluate, and “bid” on students.

Each group would offer a price to claim the students they wanted.

Once a student was successfully bid on, a connection would automatically be formed with that organization. Through internships or special programs, they’d be given opportunities for real-world experience.

And of course, the bid amounts would be reflected in Gaon’s official rankings.

A system saturated with capitalism to its core.

The students were desperate to seize this one-time opportunity.

To attract higher bids, they had to present themselves in the best possible light.

It was, essentially, a student auction.

“As you may have guessed, this midterm will also be conducted in the form of a value assessment.”

Finishing his sentence, Do Hanseong turned to the chalkboard and began writing.

“So, I’ll now share the list of major organizations participating in this evaluation round.”

The major organizations were the ones every student aimed for. Many smaller ones participated too, but the true goal was always the majors.

All eyes turned to the board.

– Glory

An obvious choice.

The number one guild in the world, the strongest of them all.

– Lotus

Another given.

The world’s second-ranked guild, just behind Glory.

– Arcadia

‘Huh...’

It was unusual for the Arcadia Order to participate.

Most likely, they were looking to recruit a dedicated support-type healer.

A few more major names were added to the board.

And just when it seemed like the list was complete—

Instructor Do Hanseong added one final name.

– Vanquisher

The room instantly buzzed.

– Vanquisher? Seriously?

– Whoa, they’re really participating?

From the front row, Sung Siwoo even stood up, staring at the board.

Murmurs spread across the room.

It made sense.

Vanquisher was famous for not recruiting new members.

Naturally, they didn’t usually take part in these value assessments.

But now, here they were, listed among the majors.

This meant a lot to the students.

Vanquisher participating directly meant one thing—they were definitely planning to recruit someone.

But for me—

‘Why the hell...’

I was completely thrown off.

Vanquisher hadn’t taken part in the value assessment in the original storyline.

‘Ah.’

“Hmm... midterms must be coming up soon, right?”

That’s when it hit me.

The strange remark Park Gwangcheol had made to me, along with that knowing smile.

I pressed a hand to my forehead.