Chapter 6: John Armstrong-3

I got beaten to a pulp.

The archbishop of the Shrine of War was stronger than I expected.

Maybe he’d be a good match for my father?

Afterward, while icing my chest with the ice the archbishop brought, we proceeded with the negotiations.

Since they were at fault this time, as the Shrine of War attacked first, the negotiation went in my favor.

So, I got the repair costs for the automatic door, the price for the damaged items from the fight, and even my medical expenses.

After finishing the negotiations, I asked what happened to Skadi.

“Oh, her? She revived at the central fountain this time. A bit of water won’t cause any trauma, so she should be fine.”

Honestly, compared to reviving in the sewers, this was a blessing.

After greeting the archbishop, I returned to my shrine.

“Oh, wow.”

When I returned, Rictus was making the archbishop he had summoned do a prostration on a hot grill.

Three years passed.

At the same time as my coming-of-age ceremony, I entered the academy, feeling like I was enrolling in a university.

Hetairo Academy.

They say it’s a world-class academy with a proud history and tradition, but I didn’t care about any of that—I just wanted to go home as soon as possible.

The problem was that this academy was selective, and even required an entrance exam.

“Hey. I think about this every time, but why does the academy have to hold such complicated exams?”

“With people from all over the world flocking here, it can’t be helped. Our ancestors went through great hardships to raise the academy to this level.”

A young man with a tall, blond, and handsome appearance responded to my complaint.

Thanks to our prince’s reminder of our empire’s glorious history, my grumbling about the entrance exams disappeared.

After sanctuaries were established and full-scale wars ended, countries around the world sought to showcase their national power by producing talent.

Not wanting to lose its dominance over the continent, the Empire developed an entire island for the academy and introduced a groundbreaking policy that allowed anyone to enroll, regardless of nationality or status.

They were so serious that they even collaborated with the Magic Tower to build teleport terminals connecting to different parts of the world.

But what did any of that have to do with me?

“… Still, don’t you think it’s too much that I have to personally witness all this nonsense?”

“I agree, but you can’t exactly reveal that you’re John, can you?”

“Agh…”

We were currently taking one of the entrance exams—sparring.

The problem was that the students in front of me had learned some strange combination of <Crossbow + Close Combat> from somewhere.

“Stop! How did you watch that movie? John’s joint techniques aren’t this sluggish. Did you even watch it properly?”

“I’m sorry!”

The issue was that the instructor was actually correcting them.

“Man, I’m so embarrassed I could die.”

“Endure it. If you’re this embarrassed now, how will you attend future classes? Didn’t they say they launched a John-style martial arts course last year?”

“Didn’t it get canceled?”

“It’s a popular course, apparently.” “Aaargh!”

At the time, I didn’t realize it, but in this cursed fantasy world, movies weren’t just entertainment.

They were educational materials, cultural resources, and even online lectures.

“Come to think of it, the last eight questions on today’s theory exam were about the John series.”

“What?!”

Since I’m not the sharpest, I didn’t finish in time.

If only I had started from the end, I could’ve scored easy points!

While I was holding my head and sitting down, the instructor called my name.

“Examinee number 1796, Allen Price! Please enter the sparring arena!”

I trudged toward the center of the sparring arena.

“Are you also using John-style martial arts?”

“No.”

Honestly, I felt that all the martial arts I used were John-style, but I didn’t argue the point.

Besides, showing the original combat style in front of so many people would be like advertising, ‘Hey, I’m John,’ so I had no intention of doing that.

“Then tell me your martial arts style, and I’ll adjust accordingly.”

As expected from an instructor at the world’s best academy, he had knowledge of nearly every martial art style.

Without hesitation, I told him my family’s martial art.

“Price-style practical martial arts.”

“Price-style…? Ah, are you William’s second son? Sorry, I didn’t recognize you right away.”

“Haha, it’s fine. Duels should always be fair, so I didn’t make it obvious on purpose.”

In modern society, a conversation like this would have sparked talk of unfair admissions, but no one cared here.

In a fantasy world where bloodlines and family martial arts could overturn the tide of war, your family was considered a legitimate ability.

I took a deep breath and entered a combat stance.

As I inhaled and exhaled, focusing on the magic in my fingertips, I could feel the sensation of currents running through my veins.

Price-style practical martial arts, shortened to Price-style, stemmed from our family’s unique constitution.

People of the Price family could channel magic through their blood vessels, allowing them to envelop their entire body in magic without incantations.

However, magic is still a form of study, and the power of the magic I enveloped myself in was… somewhat lacking.

I survived by following the family’s motto of learning through experience—getting hit and learning from it.

Anyway, I wrapped my fists in lightning and glared at the instructor.

The moment lightning enveloped my fists, the instructor, recognizing the strengths of Price-style martial arts, hesitated to approach.

Generally, magic that could serve as a finishing move consumed a lot of mana, so it was only used at a decisive moment when the opponent couldn’t dodge.

But with Price-style martial arts, you could maintain the magic in your body until you hit the opponent, allowing you to wield finishing moves like basic techniques without hesitation.

Thanks to this characteristic, Price-style martial arts allowed you to dominate the opponent once you closed the distance.

The problem was that there were no techniques for closing the distance, so you had to rely on your two legs to run at them.

And even after closing the distance, you had to launch a relentless attack, intending to take them down before you got exhausted, which consumed an extreme amount of stamina.

In short, it was a one-on-one specialized martial art designed to take down your opponent before you got tired.

Tat-tat.

I quickly closed the distance between us and threw a jab as a feint.

I mixed in uppercuts and hooks between the jabs, but the instructor easily deflected them.

This marked the beginning of a one-sided offensive.

For the first time since the duels began in this Exam Hall 6, the instructor was only dodging, which impressed the watching students.

But I didn’t let their admiration make me overconfident.

This person had definitely fought my father before.

If he had never encountered Price-style martial arts, he would’ve tried to block my tricky attacks and taken significant damage.

However, the instructor managed to twist his body and evade all of my attacks.

The fact that he could avoid them all meant he was familiar with Price-style martial arts.

Occasionally, he even threw in counters, showing that he still had some leeway.

I saw this as an opportunity.

If he was familiar with Price-style, he would be vulnerable to its variations.

Another uppercut.

As expected, the instructor avoided the path of my fist and moved toward my back.

He intended to exploit the inevitable opening that followed an uppercut, but that was exactly what I had anticipated.

Normally, after an uppercut, my body would lurch forward, creating a large gap.

But knowing he would dodge, I intentionally didn’t put much force into the uppercut, so my body didn’t lurch forward, and I was ready to move into my next position.

With my back to him, I quickly stepped forward with a powerful step, shoving him with my shoulder and back.

“What?”

Ah, this is what they call a ‘Steel Mountain Press.’

It doesn’t feel good when you get hit by it.

The instructor’s feet left the ground.

Seeing him floating in the air, I dashed toward him with all my strength.

I knew this would be my only chance to land a hit, so I sprinted until I was right in front of him, then took another powerful step, shifting my body weight forward as I threw a punch with all my might.

“Waaah!”

<Boom Fist>

A legendary technique that flattens everyone’s chest equally the moment it lands.

The instant I felt the impact at the end of my fist, I was certain of my victory.

Yes.

I should have won.

“…? Did it glitch?”

The instructor stepped in mid-air, dodging my Boom Fist instead of taking the hit.

Lightly and gracefully, he adjusted his stance while floating in the air.

“Damn it! Freaking fantasy world! How the hell is he stepping in mid-air?!”

My frustration didn’t last long.

The moment his heel gently touched my temple, my consciousness was cut off.

A strange ceiling.

No, I hadn’t moved to another world—I had just become the first user of the infirmary this year.

“You’ve come to your senses?”

“My head is still ringing…”

It wasn’t an exaggeration; my vision was really shaking.

Getting kicked in the temple by a boot was bound to do that.

“The instructor apologized, by the way. As a gesture of apology, he said he’ll give you a perfect score on the sparring test and some bonus points on the written exam.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, you’re in the Hero Department. In the Hero Department, duels and interviews are important, so it’s okay.”

“Oh, that’s a benefit.”

Still, once was enough for getting hit in the head with a military boot.

I’d never had that experience in my previous life, and it felt strangely unpleasant this time.

With a sudden burst of energy!

I got up from the infirmary bed and gathered my belongings neatly placed on the desk beside me.

Even though it was personal belongings, it was just a knife and a pistol.

“Why are you taking only a knife and a pistol instead of a gauntlet, since you’re a martial artist?”

“Our family’s secret techniques require not wearing gauntlets, so it can’t be helped. And having auxiliary weapons isn’t a bad thing.”

“That’s true.”

Leon nodded his head in agreement.

“That’s right. What about your exam? You can’t use the Imperial Martial Arts.”

“Don’t worry about that. Since I’m in the Political Science Department, duel scores aren’t included. I withdrew from it.”

The Imperial Martial Arts were a top-secret last resort for protecting the royal family.

It couldn’t be disclosed just for an entrance exam, so Leon’s handling of it was quite admirable.

“But there are some students in our department who go through the duels to the end.”

“Why? Are they trying to establish their rank within the department based on their combat skills?”

Dueling doesn’t affect the scores, but it was rare for students in the Political Science Department to want to check their combat abilities this way.

However, Leon confidently denied my guess.

“That’s not it, John—”

“Stop! Don’t! I get it!”

I’m really the guilty one.

Everywhere I look, it’s John.

If it were just enough to feel proud, this level of attention only increases my aversion.

Even when I go home, all I hear is John, John, driving me to the brink of neurosis.

But Leon found my reaction amusing.

“Now that you’re up, head straight to the interview room. They said you should go there as soon as you wake up.”

“Huh? How long have I been lying down?”

“Two hours.”

“Ah, I see.”

Fortunately, due to the instructor’s consideration for knocking me out, my interview time had been postponed.

So, I left the infirmary and headed to the interview registration desk, where they slotted me in between other examinees.

“Examinee number 1796. Allen, please proceed to the room.”

I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and grabbed the doorknob.

Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

Carefully.

I made sure not to let my habit of kicking doors out of habit show, slowly opening the door.

After checking that I had closed the door again, I greeted and sat in front of the interviewers.

“Are you Allen Price?”

“Yes! That’s me!”

I started confidently.

The Hero Department interviewers seemed pleased with my loud response and nodded as they began the interview.

As they scribbled on their score sheets, I was able to answer without any hesitation.

The Hero Department interviews had more questions testing moral values and judgment rather than knowledge.

“Let’s assume a critical front line where your forces are being pushed back. If you withdraw, the front line will collapse, and your country will suffer significant damage. But if you request an airstrike, you could hold the front line. What choice will you make in this situation?”

“Are you asking if I would request a Danger Close (friendly fire airstrike)?”

“Yes.”

In my previous life, I would have accepted the Danger Close without hesitation.

For a soldier, completing the mission is essential.

“I would withdraw.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a soldier right now. A hero is someone who protects. My focus should be on protecting rather than completing the mission.”

My answer seemed to satisfy the interviewer, as he didn’t ask any more questions.

It was as if he had fully understood my character.

The remaining questions from the other interviewers were questions I had encountered in my previous life, so they weren’t difficult.

Then there was only one interviewer left.

The person who had kept silent while others asked questions finally spoke up when he was the only one left.

“Allen, I am Charles, a humble knight from the Kingdom of Revan.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir Knight.”

I had heard of him.

He was a renowned knight from the neighboring Kingdom of Revan.

And he was also the president of my fan club.

“I reviewed your exam papers and noticed you didn’t answer the last eight questions.”

Could it be?

“Was there a reason you didn’t answer the questions about the John Armstrong series?”

Damn it. Why is this happening to me?