The Final Practical

Kim Gwanhyo.

An Awakener possessing an attribute, he was a promising talent championed by Baekje, a guild ranked 28th in Korea.

It was said he had trained in various martial arts, such as Kendo and Hapkido, since childhood, and his awakened ability naturally aligned with close-quarters combat. Park Minhyuk had once seen him being touted as a new hero for Korea on a popular television program.

With his handsome face, impressive abilities, and attribute possession, he had quickly risen to fame despite not yet having debuted as a full-fledged Awakener.

Of course, Baekje’s aggressive promotion undoubtedly played a significant role in his rapid ascent.

Yet, Lee Heejin, who had personally trained alongside Kim Gwanhyo, had a starkly different assessment.

‘A frog in a well who doesn’t know their place.’

She had witnessed countless individuals hailed as promising talents.

Among them, only a select few truly blossomed into genuine Rankers, while the rest either met an untimely demise or saw their hype dissipate, leaving them as mere average Awakeners.

From Lee Heejin’s perspective, Kim Gwanhyo was certainly not the caliber of person destined to become a Ranker.

No matter how powerful an attribute holder he might be, such arrogance would prove to be his downfall.

Confidence was commendable, but an excess of it became a poison, and that poison was often lethal in real combat. Having seen far too many Awakeners perish from overconfidence, driven by excessive epithets like ‘supernova,’ ‘prodigy,’ or ‘hero,’ she could recognize the signs at a glance.

Kim Gwanhyo had garnered far more fame than his actual personality and skill warranted.

This was likely the desperate outcome of the Baekje Guild’s recent decline in guild rankings.

Lee Heejin was well aware that Kim Gwanhyo harbored feelings for her. The reason he offered to support her during the upcoming practical was likely a ploy to showcase her abilities and recruit her into Cognac.

‘A mere Cognac…’

Such a naïve thought could only originate from a novice Awakener. Even if Cognac’s Guild Master were to rush out barefoot and prostrate themselves before her, it wouldn’t be enough; yet, Kim Gwanhyo was attempting such a pathetic scheme.

There was one guild, largely unknown to the public, yet famously recognized among the upper echelons of the rankings.

Its name was Mu-myeong (Nameless).

This was the very guild Lee Heejin belonged to.

The majority of its members were first-generation Awakeners who had awakened during the Great Cataclysm, and all but the Guild Master were unranked, having never registered their names in the rankings.

It was an eccentric collective, each member with their own reasons for being extremely reluctant to reveal their identities. Rumors abounded about this guild, suggesting that the individual might of its members rivaled that of High-Rankers.

Yet, Mu-myeong remained shrouded in mystery, with only a select few truly understanding its nature. Even within such a formidable guild, Lee Heejin was the only one who had procrastinated her Awakener registration, finding the training tedious, and was only now getting around to it.

“With that, today’s training concludes. Awakeners, please report by 8 AM tomorrow morning…”

Lost in his thoughts, Park Minhyuk had barely noticed as the instructor passionately lectured on the dangers of weapons and finished explaining the rules for tomorrow’s practical session.

“Ugh, how many times is he going to repeat the obvious? Those paltry monsters will be ground to dust by my skills in an instant.”

Lee Heejin let Kim Gwanhyo’s grumbling words float past her, turning her attention instead to Park Minhyuk.

The way he cinched the iron sword to his waist, then subtly drew and re-sheathed it, was remarkably fluid.

Then, Park Minhyuk met Lee Heejin’s gaze.

Once again, the ominous premonition that had been subtly coiling around her body vanished like melting snow.

‘What exactly is his true identity?’

Suddenly, a strong intuition struck her.

“Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”

“Okay.”

She had a feeling that tomorrow, just a little bit, she might glimpse his secret.

****

The day of the final examination dawned.

Sixty-four prospective Awakeners gathered at the entrance of a dungeon managed by the Association.

More precisely, it was a former dungeon that had been conquered without being destroyed, its terrain not overly complex and perfectly preserved, thus repurposed for training.

The test was conducted in teams of three, each starting from a different entrance.

The objective was to defeat the monsters that emerged, navigate past traps, and enter the boss room, at which point the test would conclude.

Every moment, from entering the dungeon to reaching the boss room, was recorded by cameras. These videos were then uploaded to the Association’s website for guild officials to review.

In truth, it was nearly impossible for fledgling Awakeners, fresh from just a week of theoretical training, to skillfully disarm traps and defeat monsters.

Everyone knew this, yet most would simply shrug, saying there was little choice. Both guilds and the Association sought individuals ready for immediate deployment, not those who would flounder against such basic monsters and traps.

Nonetheless, rumors had begun to circulate about the establishment of a proper training center for Awakeners, though the exact timeline remained unknown.

“Team 5: Kim Gwanhyo, Lee Heejin, Park Minhyuk, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I am Lee Jinwoo, an Awakener affiliated with the Association.”

The man who introduced himself as Lee Jinwoo possessed a clean-cut appearance and seemed to be their team’s overseer.

“You may depart once I give the signal. You are not permitted to speak to me or ask questions. While I will intervene in cases of severe injury or life-threatening danger, you can assume such instances will be exceedingly rare.”

“Yes, understood.”

Hearing Park Minhyuk’s reply, Lee Jinwoo pulled out a camera and checked the time.

“If I may offer a small tip: don’t panic. Stay calm. That’s all you need.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.”

It seemed like a decent piece of advice, yet both Kim Gwanhyo and Lee Heejin reacted with indifference.

“Alright, please coordinate with your teammates, and you may depart immediately. Recording will commence with your departure.”

No sooner had Lee Jinwoo finished speaking than Kim Gwanhyo stepped forward.

“Since we lack any ranged or support types, we need to keep it simple.”

He spoke, then glanced at Park Minhyuk.

“Heejin will take the rear, I’ll take the flank, and Minhyuk will take the front, advancing cautiously. So, the order will be Minhyuk, me, then Heejin.”

Kim Gwanhyo’s suggestion sounded plausible at first, yet it was so flimsy that anyone with a modicum of thought could quickly identify its flaws.

Firstly, the dungeon was a narrow, cave-like structure. As it wasn’t a maze or an open field, the importance of guarding the rear or flanks was inherently low, meaning the entire burden would fall upon the person leading the group – Park Minhyuk.

It was the position with the highest probability of falling into traps and the highest risk of encountering dangerous monsters. Essentially, Kim Gwanhyo implied that once Park Minhyuk had endured the initial challenges, he or Lee Heejin would then step in to resolve matters dramatically.

The strategy was so unreasonable that even Lee Jinwoo, their team’s overseer, was looking at them with an expression that clearly said, ‘What kind of thugs are these?’

“Hmm… Yes, let’s do that then.”

Despite this, Park Minhyuk readily nodded.

For him, it was precisely what he desired. He needed to grow stronger as quickly as possible to prepare for the inevitable invasion of hell, yet he had no practical combat experience. All he had done thus far was desperately run away.

He was certain that this opportunity to fall into traps and confront monsters up close would be immensely beneficial. With weak traps and an Awakener responsible for their safety nearby, what better training environment could there be?

For him, this was not a final examination, but rather, as its official designation implied, a final practical training session.

“Ah, yes. Let’s go then.”

Kim Gwanhyo pointed towards the dungeon entrance with an expression that seemed to say, ‘I knew he’d agree,’ and Park Minhyuk carefully drew the iron sword from his waist, then headed into the dungeon.

The practical session had officially begun.

****

“Ugh!”

Feeling the sticky sensation cling to his feet, Park Minhyuk barely managed to regain his balance, which had almost given out. Looking down, he saw a muddy pit cleverly blended with the dirt floor.

His foot was submerged within it.

He had fallen into a mud trap.

“He fell again… You can see it if you just look closely. Honestly…”

Kim Gwanhyo, who had been following behind, scoffed dismissively.

“Haha. My, my, these rascals have hidden it quite cleverly.”

“…Huh?”

There had been a total of five traps so far. And Park Minhyuk had fallen into all five of them.

Confronting monsters up close, on the other hand, was surprisingly uneventful. He didn’t even feel a hint of fear. Perhaps it was because all the foes he had faced until now were transcendent beings.

Indeed, after encountering such monstrous transcendents, these relatively charming monsters elicited no particular emotion from him.

The real issue was the traps. The dungeon interior was quite dark, making it impossible to distinguish the traps with the naked eye. Yet, Kim Gwanhyo and Lee Heejin seemed to have specialized skills, acting as if they could see everything despite the dimness.

Park Minhyuk could have managed it, in truth. His internal energy control was so refined that even Grandfather Cheongeom had marveled at it. It seemed to be an effect of his ‘Mana Dominator’ trait, as his grandfather had once remarked that his internal energy moved as if it feared him.

He had considered spreading a thin layer of internal energy to detect traps or paths, but ultimately decided against it. His internal energy reserves were not vast. He always needed to conserve it whenever possible, as he never knew what might unfold.

Though the fusion of internal energy and mana allowed him to exert greater power with less quantity, his rank was still merely E-grade. The absolute amount was so laughably insufficient that a single use of the Voidrend Blade would almost deplete all his internal energy.

Thus, he was using this safe practical environment to practice conserving his internal energy. While every moment would be captured on camera, he had no intention of performing dazzling feats, and a little embarrassment was a small price to pay.

As he pulled his foot from the mud trap and casually dusted it off, Kim Gwanhyo spoke to Lee Heejin.

“Heejin, are you actually using skills when you fight?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, I am. I just find it embarrassing to shout out skill names, so I say them quietly.”

“Hmm… Really?”

This was something Park Minhyuk had also found puzzling. Lee Heejin was a monk-type fighter, utilizing her hands, feet, elbows, and knees, and her movements were so fluid it seemed as though she had fought hundreds, if not thousands, of such battles.

She appeared to be fighting casually, with lazy movements, yet her every punch contained an inexplicable destructive power. His body, having become the Celestial Martial Body due to his unique trait, itched with the desire to mimic her combat style. He knew instinctively that this was not a martial art perfected overnight.

Having observed her in every subsequent battle, he knew she had never shouted a skill name. This led to two possible hypotheses.

Just as he could activate the Emperor’s Sword Art without vocalizing its name, Lee Heejin might possess a similar ability.

And the other was…

‘…that it wasn’t a skill at all, but her pure physical prowess.’

Whichever it was, it was not something a novice Awakener, who had just recently awakened, should be capable of. It seemed there was a story behind her abilities, but for now, he could only watch.

“If you’re done dusting off, let’s move on.”

Kim Gwanhyo spoke with a highly displeased tone, and Park Minhyuk, without a word of complaint, resumed his advance into the dungeon.

Two more traps appeared thereafter, and he, without fail, fell into them. The next trap that appeared, though he still fell into it, allowed him to get a sense of how to deal with them. And after three more traps, he was finally able to anticipate them and avoid falling in.

After navigating a total of eleven traps and engaging in seven battles, they finally entered the boss room, their destination for the final practical session.