Chapter 20
The results were announced that afternoon at the main training ground.
Nearly five hundred trainees stood in lines by section.
The instructors stood on the platform ahead.
The atmosphere was restless.
Rumors from the previous night's test were already moving through the crowd.
Section One and Section Three had fought directly.
Someone stole all the tokens during the battle.
And...
Isaac had lost.
At the final rumor, most trainees shook their heads.
Isaac losing was like saying the sun had risen from the west.
"The meal grade and training assignments of every section will be adjusted according to these results. Silence."
The crowd quieted at the instructor's shout.
"We will now announce the results of the second test, Token Defense."
The instructor opened the document.
A heavy silence settled.
"Fifth place. Section Two. Eighteen points."
"Fourth place. Section Four. Twenty-one points."
Nothing surprising so far.
Then came the real problem.
"Third place... Section One. Twenty-four points."
"What?"
"Section One came third?"
The crowd stirred.
Section One had always fought for the highest rankings.
If they were third...
Only Section Three and...
"Second place. Section Three. Thirty-two points."
The entire training ground froze.
One impossible calculation remained in everyone's minds.
Even the instructor announcing the results checked the paper again.
Then...
He swallowed dryly.
Almost five hundred eyes focused on his mouth.
In Section Five's formation, Renil clutched Perka's sleeve so tightly his hand trembled.
"First place..."
The instructor paused.
"Section Five. Forty-six points."
"..."
Silence.
No one spoke.
Fourteen points above second place.
Not even a close victory.
An overwhelming first place.
"N-No way. Section Five?"
"The section that's always last came first?"
"Did they count wrong?"
The delayed uproar exploded across the training ground.
Not only the trainees.
Even the instructors on the platform looked at one another in disbelief.
The hierarchy that had never changed since admission had been overturned overnight.
"Quiet."
One word from Berton killed the noise.
"If anyone objects to the result, speak now."
"..."
No one could.
Everyone stared at Berton in shock.
Berton swept his cold gaze across them.
"Then the result of the second test is confirmed."
Confirmed.
The moment that word fell...
"UOOOOOOOH!"
Section Five erupted.
"First! We're first!"
"Renil, are you crying?"
"Who's crying?! Something got in my eye!"
"Uwaaaaah! This is the first time since we came here that we're not last!"
Some screamed until their voices cracked.
Some hugged the trainees beside them and jumped around.
Forever last.
The nest of useless failures.
Those names had been thrown away overnight.
Perka walked through the celebrating trainees and tapped Theron's shoulder.
"...This was because of you."
"No."
Theron shook his head.
"I prepared the board."
He looked toward everyone else.
"You were the ones who survived on it."
Perka smiled.
The other sections watched them with complicated eyes.
Jealousy.
Disbelief.
Wariness.
But beneath all those feelings was one name.
Theron.
The rumored trainee who defeated Isaac.
The mysterious boy who dragged Section Five from last place to the top overnight.
The hierarchy of Hell Island was being silently rewritten.
Then someone confidently walked through Section Five's celebration.
Isaac.
The cheering trainees froze.
The king of Section Three, until yesterday the unquestioned strongest in the training facility, had entered the formation of the former lowest-ranked section.
Isaac ignored everyone staring at him.
He stopped in front of Theron.
"Congratulations on first place."
"...Thanks."
"Thanks to you, we're second."
Isaac grinned and held out his hand.
Theron took it.
A short handshake.
Yet the entire training ground began murmuring again.
That handshake alone confirmed the rumors.
Isaac released his hand.
"Get yourself ready before the next test."
He turned away.
"I'm coming to collect my debt."
Renil swallowed while watching him leave.
"Hey... you really fought him and won?"
"Who knows."
"What do you mean, who knows?! He practically admitted it himself!"
Theron only smiled faintly and watched Isaac's back disappear.
Immediately after the announcement...
Instructors began gathering around Bengle beneath the platform.
"Instructor Bengle. What exactly did you do?"
"Did you change their training method?"
"Did you give them special lessons?"
"Share your secret with our sections too."
How long had it been?
No.
This was the first time since this group of trainees entered Hell Island.
The instructor who had always been last...
The man who usually received mocking sympathy whenever scores were announced...
Was finally being surrounded by jealous instructors.
"Ahem. Well..."
Bengle cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders.
"There's no real secret."
He smiled.
"The kids just worked hard. I barely did anything."
He said that.
But he could not hide the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
That evening...
Bengle called Theron behind the Section Five dormitory.
"...A promise is a promise."
Bengle's face looked twisted.
He himself did not seem to know whether he was angry or pleased.
"Honestly, I thought it would be a miracle if you even reached third place."
"So both of my arms are safe?"
"...You little bastard."
Bengle ground his teeth.
Then he finally laughed.
"Follow me. I'll open the Armory Vault."
"Right now?"
"I like paying my debts quickly so I can sleep peacefully."
Then Bengle lowered his voice.
"And..."
His eyes narrowed.
"It's better to move before rumors spread too far. Starting today, there are going to be a lot more eyes on you."
The Armory Vault was beneath the main building.
They descended a staircase trainees were forbidden to use.
After passing through a long, dark corridor...
They reached a dead end.
Bengle removed a key and opened three locks.
Creeeeak.
The rusty iron door opened.
Air that had been trapped for years flowed out with the smell of dust.
Bengle lit a lamp.
The interior appeared.
Swords and spears filled the walls.
Armor and shields covered shelves.
Weapons accumulated over decades since Hell Island's establishment slept in the darkness.
"Choose."
Bengle crossed his arms.
"One item."
Then he warned,
"The items on the upper shelves in the back are forbidden. Those belong to instructors."
He gestured nearby.
"Trainees can choose from this section."
Even that was more than enough.
Perfectly sharpened swords.
Spears bearing the marks of famous craftsmen.
Items that would make any young trainee lose his mind.
Yet Theron walked past every shining weapon.
We can't use anything other than issued weapons during training anyway.
There was no reason to waste time admiring them.
More importantly...
He had already come here for something specific.
Theron searched the shelves for the object he had once heard about.
Eventually...
He stopped at the corner of the vault.
A shelf filled with random magical tools.
Faded rings.
Cracked charms.
Accessories whose uses were unknown.
A graveyard of ambiguous objects that had remained ownerless for decades.
Theron's hand moved through them.
Then he picked up one item.
A bracelet.
A silver bracelet blackened by age.
Fine patterns were engraved across the surface, though dirt made them difficult to see.
Found it...!
The faded condition did not matter.
The pattern perfectly matched what he had heard.
Bengle walked over.
"...What's that?"
He glanced at the bracelet and looked confused.
"Oh. That thing."
He frowned.
"I know it. They call it the Bracelet of Warmth or something."
Bengle shrugged.
"All it does is keep your body warm while you're wearing it. Maybe useful in winter, but..."
He looked toward the weapons.
"You're not seriously choosing that over all this good equipment, are you?"
"I'll take this."
"What?"
Bengle's eyes widened.
"Hey, brat. You see those swords with craftsmen's marks?"
He pointed.
"You can't use them during training, sure, but if you're thinking about the future, one good sword is a hundred times better."
His expression turned incredulous.
"You made that ridiculous bet just to get some hand warmer?"
"I get cold easily in winter."
"A-Are you making fun of me?!"
Bengle grabbed the back of his neck.
Theron calmly placed the bracelet around his wrist.
Cold metal touched his skin.
Then...
A faint warmth spread around it.
To anyone watching...
That truly seemed to be all it did.
...Yes.
That's what everyone believed.
But Theron knew its true nature.
A magical amplification tool that doubled the efficiency of mana cultivation.
In his previous life, the man who obtained this bracelet climbed a staircase that should have taken ten years in only three.
Theron did not know how that person eventually obtained an item that had once been stored on Hell Island.
However...
He knew exactly how to unlock its hidden function.
Follow the engraved pattern.
Then circulate mana through it in the reverse order of one's Mana Method.
No one would naturally think of sending mana backward through a tool designed to gather mana.
That impossible key was why the bracelet had remained inside this vault for decades...
Treated as nothing more than a hand warmer.
The item that helped you break through your wall...
Theron's lips curved coldly.
I'll take it first this time.
The man who had once been Theron's comrade...
But later betrayed him and left.
That bastard's growth will slow down now.
Someday...
They would probably meet again.
Theron lightly touched the bracelet on his wrist.
Bengle sighed and waved dismissively.
"Fine. Whatever. Hand warmer or treasure, it's your choice."
He locked the vault.
Then suddenly...
"There's something I've been wondering."
Theron looked back.
"The Armory Vault is supposed to be a secret trainees don't even know exists."
Bengle narrowed his eyes.
"How did you know about it well enough to use it in our bet?"
It was a sharp question.
But Theron's answer came without hesitation.
"Instructors talk louder than they think after drinking."
"...What?"
"Especially you, Instructor. Your voice is quite loud."
"Y-You brat...!"
Bengle's face turned red.
Apparently, something came to mind.
"Pointlessly sharp ears...! Forget it. Let's go!"
Theron smiled faintly behind the complaining Bengle.
It was not exactly a lie.
Drunk people really were excellent sources of information.
The only difference was...
Theron had heard those conversations in his previous life.
His steps felt lighter as he followed Bengle out.
