Chapter 87: Exchange Battle (10)
Yu Mujin.
One of the strongest in the world.
One of the few people who could confidently have his name listed among the top.
Being acknowledged by someone like that—it felt good.
Because it also served as a benchmark to confirm my own standing.
I was replaying the footage of the exchange match that had been uploaded to Gaon’s database.
Analysis should always be the top priority.
Memories are easily swayed by emotions, but videos only show the facts.
First, our team.
Yoon Chae-ha.
Overall, excellent.
Her innate combat sense allowed her to maintain perfect positioning without any instructions.
Especially, the final force field was impressive. Outstanding.
She spread it thinly yet maintained its density, burning away all the phantoms without a single leak.
It was a highly polished defensive force field.
“She’s good, really good…”
But if there’s one issue—
I can feel that she’s too conscious of me.
Lately, I’ve been giving her a lot of guidance—in class, on the training grounds, even outside of school.
It feels like she’s recently begun to truly see me as her teacher, as her mentor.
Her face clearly says, ‘Did you see me? I did well, right?’
She doesn’t even try to hide it.
Well, we’re not going to grow distant anytime soon, so it’s not necessarily a bad thing.
I just worry about the future.
As long as it doesn’t evolve into dependence, it’s fine.
Next—
Yu Hana.
—Swoosh!
“Wow…”
Even on rewatch, it was awe-inspiring.
A single slash so fast that even the camera couldn’t follow it.
Before the mist had even cleared, before the phantom could regenerate,
She struck at that exact moment and severed the unicorn’s neck in one clean blow.
Even the flower petals that fluttered up afterward…
A slash that was purely her own—
Completely unaffected by anyone’s gaze.
In many ways, she contrasted sharply with Chae-ha.
But that doesn’t mean one did better or worse than the other.
It’s just a difference in personality.
In the end, they were both strong—and they were both on the same team.
That concludes the analysis of our team.
I only rewatched the footage to see if I missed anything.
As expected, I hadn’t missed a thing.
Now it was time to look at the other team.
[Team Yohan – 2nd Place]
They may have come in second, but the time difference was only a few seconds.
In other words, if we had been just a bit slower, we would’ve been second.
Which means—they had someone just as critical on their side.
I hit the play button.
“…”
I had to see who had done so well.
In a broader sense, this too was part of the care I was giving to Yoon Chae-ha.
Because, most likely, the star of the show was Joo Seo-jun.
As expected, the footage showed that.
He held almost all the decision-making power—from tactical judgment, to engagement timing, to positioning adjustments.
And finally—
[Phantom Beast: Hornless Unicorn]
The moment I saw how they handled it, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
“Damn… What the hell…”
I got it.
I understood why he was able to take down the hornless unicorn so easily.
“…She might lose.”
That was an honest thought.
It occurred to me that Yoon Chae-ha might actually lose.
***
Today is the second day of the individual round of the exchange matches.
The first battle ended just as expected—without much excitement.
A mid-tier swordsman from Gaon couldn’t beat Yoon Chae-ha.
She won cleanly, without even a scratch.
And now, it’s the next day.
I called Yoon Chae-ha out early in the morning.
[belief_]: Hana, can we cancel this morning’s workout…?
[OnE]: Why??
[belief_]: I have mentor-mentee stuff…
I feel bad for Yu Hana. Today’s workout is canceled.
She’s probably sulking—hasn’t even replied.
I arrived at the training ground first, sat quietly on the mat laid out on the floor, and waited.
For a while, there was only silence—until I heard someone approaching from a distance.
“Mentor-mentee? You haven’t even called me in forever… Why so early?”
It was Yoon Chae-ha.
She wore a training outfit that fit her perfectly, looking as natural as if it were made for her. Her hair was half-tied up.
I told her to come dressed comfortably, since we’d be fighting.
Though her tone was blunt, her steps were light, and at the end of her voice, there was a faint trace of excitement.
‘This kind of hurts.’
Today, I probably won’t be able to meet that excitement.
“Shall we get started right away?”
“Well… sure.”
Yoon Chae-ha nodded slightly in response.
Her tone was indifferent, but her eyes held a touch of anticipation.
I slowly got up from my seat.
Yoon Chae-ha and the Magic Beast “Unicorn.”
Looking at it broadly, their magic is quite similar.
Territory control type.
That’s how I’d describe it.
The Unicorn spreads intangible ghost-like entities to obstruct vision and seize control of the battlefield.
Yoon Chae-ha fills the battlefield with blazing fire through large-scale flame magic.
She restricts her enemy’s movements within a stage she created, then unleashes precise attacks within that space.
That’s why they’re similar.
A strategy she built up entirely on her own.
However, according to the footage I saw yesterday,
Joo Seo-jun’s strategy was the perfect antithesis—a complete counter to her magic.
‘One-point breakthrough.’
In the basics of magic, there’s a concept called Reverse Calculation.
Breaking down a spell, retracing it backward, and following the flow of mana.
He took that reverse calculation, layered it directly into his magic, and stabbed forward.
No wonder he took down the Unicorn so easily.
It seemed Joo Seo-jun had spent a lot of time thinking, training, and refining his approach just to beat Yoon Chae-ha.
Honestly, I was impressed.
That’s why I’m giving Yoon Chae-ha a vaccination, so to speak.
I spent the entire early morning analyzing.
Even if it’s called reverse calculation, it’s not some grand technique.
In the end, mana is fundamentally similar across humans.
What Joo Seo-jun used was a very basic form of reverse calculation applied to mana.
The nail was the reverse calculation.
The hammer was the raw power that followed.
With that combination, he could break through any defense or formation with a single strike.
That was his strategy.
“Chae-ha.”
“Hm?”
“Use the strongest attack you can.”
“On you?”
Yoon Chae-ha frowned.
“That might be dangerous…”
“It’s fine. Just do it.”
I lightly shook out my hands.
“Don’t hold back. Go all out.”
At those words, something shifted in her eyes.
“…Got it.”
Flames flickered in her pupils.
Her hair lifted in the breeze, and the surrounding air began to twist like it was about to combust.
“────.”
A short incantation.
And then, massive spears of flame tore through the sky, raining down over the entire training ground.
‘Yup. She’s not holding back.’
I bent one knee slightly, grabbed the spear in reverse grip,
And layered a flow of reverse-calculated magic onto its tip.
“────!”
At the same time, Yoon Chae-ha’s flaming spears rained down like a torrential storm.
I aimed for the shallowest spot—the weakest gap.
In an instant, I stomped the ground.
My angle of approach: straight ahead.
-Boom!!
With a sharp explosion, I shattered one of the dozens of spears and broke through the gap.
Yoon Chae-ha’s eyes widened.
Her lips parted slightly.
I dashed straight toward her.
-Thunk.
I held my spear in reverse and planted it right in front of her forehead.
Just like that—
Tap.
I lightly poked her forehead with the tip of the spear.
“Again.”
Leaving those words behind, I turned around.
Yoon Chae-ha just stared at me blankly, speechless for a moment.
***
I pierced through her magic in the same way, over and over.
Dozens of times.
No matter what spell she cast,
Even if she filled the space, filled the sky—I tore through the gaps and pushed forward.
“Again.”
Again, and again.
To be honest, I was a little worried.
Yoon Chae-ha is a girl with a lot of pride.
She’s always confident, and especially proud of her magic.
That’s why I was worried she might be crushed when she eventually faced Joo Seo-jun.
I approached this as a kind of “preemptive vaccination.”
But…
Somehow, I felt like I was hitting her even harder than he would.
I started to worry a little—
Would she lose heart or fall into despair?
“Let’s stop here.”
As I declared the end, Yoon Chae-ha collapsed to the floor with a thud.
‘Crap.’
I must’ve pushed her too far.
I rushed over to check on her.
“Are you okay? Sorry, I might’ve gone too har—”
But—
“…….”
She said nothing.
Huff, huff…
Yoon Chae-ha’s shoulders trembled.
Her parted lips gasped for breath, her cheeks flushed with heat.
A bead of sweat dripped from her forehead, falling beneath her chin.
Her eyes—
They trembled faintly, but there was no anger, no despair within them.
Rather, they were clearer and more focused than I had ever seen.
“One more time.”
She took a deep breath.
Then again—
“No, let’s keep going until today’s match.”
Her lips curled upward, slowly.
Her breath quivered slightly, but behind it, a distinct emotion flared.
“Actually, let’s just do this forever. I love this.”
That voice—
Tinged with trembling breath—held pleasure and longing.
“Jung Haein.”
She slowly lifted her head.
Strands of hair clung to her cheeks, and her eyes shimmered with moisture.
All of it mingled with her competitive spirit, making it strangely impossible to look away.
“I’m really glad… that you’re my mentor.”
I was wrong.
Yoon Chae-ha doesn’t break.
Like metal in a forge, the more she’s tempered, the hotter and stronger she becomes.
In those eyes—burned the fire of renewed determination.
“Go harder. Break me.”
She was enjoying this fight with all her heart.
“That would… feel even better.”
Her lips curled up, slowly but surely.
