1 Second Invincibility in the Game

Chapter 152

“I don’t want to go to Adele Hall anymore.”

Rockefeller couldn’t close his mouth for a while after hearing Hersel’s words.

To suddenly show up in the office and say something like this…

“Withdraw your decision.”

Rockefeller collected himself and tried to understand the reason behind Hersel’s reluctance to go to Adele Hall.

‘He doesn’t seem to have any regrets. Well, does he even have a reason to go there?’

Hersel had plenty of resources, and despite the inconveniences of Schlaphe Hall, he enjoyed almost all the benefits a student at Adele Hall would.

‘He’s financially secure, so there’s no need to worry about living expenses.’

The prestige of the position or the admiration of the public for Adele Hall wasn’t an issue either. Hersel’s competence had already been proven the moment he hunted the Venomous Viper. On top of that, he recently defeated Kerndel of 1st seat in front of the entire academy.

‘It’s actually good that this guy won’t be joining Adele Hall’s magic division. But still…?’

Hersel didn’t see any merit in Adele Hall, and the means to transfer him to the knight division had vanished too.

But the real headache was elsewhere: if someone with Hersel’s impressive achievements continued to stay at Schlaphe Hall, the professors were bound to face scrutiny.

‘If the central administration sees us mistreating someone recognized by the Elders, they’ll think we’re harassing him.’

Even if they explained that Hersel declined the offer, no one would believe it. Regardless of his accomplishments, public opinion about Hersel was that of a greedy scoundrel.

Recalling the possibility of a higher authority visiting someday, Rockefeller felt a chill.

Suddenly, he became curious about Hersel’s true intentions.

‘But why refuse? There’s no reason for him to insist on staying at Schlaphe Hall.’

It was strange, upon reflection. Advancing to a higher hall should be advantageous—more allowances, exemption from the monster defense battles, and the process would be seamless.

‘Why, though? The Hersel Ben Tenest I know would snatch bread from a crying child. He’s a rascal who would always try to extort something from the professors. And yet, he wants to give this up?’

Based on his past experiences with Hersel, Rockefeller could only assume that there was some hidden motive.

‘What’s going on? What kind of scheme is buried within that dark heart of his?’

Gathering himself, Rockefeller decided to probe subtly, trying not to show his confusion.

With a calm expression, he aimed to provoke Hersel a bit and expose his true colors.

“Realizing your place at this point is commendable. After all, with your skills, the magic division of Adele Hall would be like a pearl necklace on a pig’s neck.”

He expected Hersel to react angrily to this sarcastic remark, but Hersel merely nodded.

“Indeed. I might fit better at Buerger Hall, but I’m still far below the level of Adele Hall. So, I assume you understand my decision.”

Hersel then turned his back without hesitation, causing Rockefeller to realize he’d made a mistake. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

‘Is he trying to draw me to the negotiation table? To strengthen his bargaining position?’

If that was the case, then Hersel must know that the professors would be troubled if he didn’t join Adele Hall. Judging by his confidence, that seemed highly likely.

‘Damn it, he’s a sly one…’

Rockefeller’s expression hardened, and he asked directly, “Enough games—what’s your real intention?”

Hersel stopped and turned around. “What are you talking about? Games?”

Although Hersel’s face was full of feigned confusion, Rockefeller could only see him as brazen. He let out a deep sigh.

“What’s your reason? It’s hard to ignore the benefits of Adele Hall to this extent.”

When asked, Hersel lowered his gaze and answered, “I have Limberton and Aslay, who’ve been with me until now. I’d feel guilty to go alone.”

“Those two?”

Rockefeller’s eyes wavered. Aslay was a martial artist and Limberton an archer—both skilled, but not aligned with the academy’s formal courses.

‘I was planning to promote them to Buerger Hall due to their merits. But this guy…?’

Not wanting to go to Adele Hall alone might sound like loyalty, but it was clearly a demand to promote those two as well.

As Rockefeller pondered how things had come to this, he let out another sigh.

“I will write letters of recommendation for Aslay and Limberton. If you understand, you should withdraw your objection.”

This was a major concession, a hundred times more than Rockefeller would usually offer, yet Hersel widened his eyes in surprise.

“What…?”

The sheer audacity of Hersel was astounding. Rockefeller couldn’t figure out what more Hersel wanted, but he wasn’t foolish enough to give in further. His face flushed with anger as he dismissed Hersel from his office.

‘The rascal was becoming craftier by the day.’

***

I had intended to stay in Schlaphe Hall under some reasonable-sounding pretext. After all, people’s feelings can change quickly. Initially, there was an advantage to being close to the ‘scenario,’ but now, there seemed to be more cons than pros. I could already predict how I would be forced into roles meant for side characters at every turn.

But things had taken a turn for the worse—Aslay and Limberton ended up getting promoted to Adele Hall.

How did it come to this?

“Was I found out? Considering how extreme the offer was…”

Rockefeller seemed to take pleasure in ruining my future. Did he figure out my reluctance to go to Adele Hall? Even if not, he was a sociopath adept at recognizing the pain of others. It was possible he’d sensed it instinctively.

“Ugh…”

I found myself walking through the lobby of Schlaphe Hall when I heard hurried footsteps approaching. Several people came rushing toward me, causing me to frown.

Their attire—simple black and white garments with a sun emblem on their chests—marked them as members of the Sun Sect, under the Frostheart faction.

One man, appearing to be the leader, blocked my path. The others stood silently, smiling, suggesting the man held some rank. He held a book, mostly concealed in his hand, which I assumed to be the sect’s holy scripture.

“What is it?”

My voice carried a hint of irritation. The sect members’ narrowed eyes and faint smiles gave off an unsettling vibe, like cultists ready to ask, “Do you know the truth?”

“If it’s religious solicitation, get lost.”

Upon my blunt rejection, the man replied in a gentle tone.

“Oh, we never force religion upon others. Salvation finds those who approach of their own will. Well, considering we’ve discussed our teachings through general culture classes, there’s no need for a lengthy conversation.”

The man held out the book, which I recognized from its cover—it was a novel I had read before. It seemed he’d been mistaken.

“In fact, Hersel, I came here because I heard you were the one who requested this book.”

“Enjoyed it, huh? So, are you here to thank me?”

The sect members must have grown bored reading only their scriptures, as young people full of energy are bound to explore elsewhere.

With a shrug, I made a brief suggestion.

“Why not read a novel instead of scripture in your next culture class? Even the ones who usually doze off might wake up.”

As I tried to walk past the man, the sect members blocked my way again.

“Hmm?”

“An unwholesome book like this?”

“Unwholesome?”

When I questioned, the man quickly flipped through the book and pointed to certain passages. The protagonist of the novel was a vengeful character who had lost his family to demons. One of the described scenes depicted him abandoning his beliefs and staining his hands with blood:

>[Helderic thought to himself: soiling his hands was God’s will.]

>[If so, wouldn’t that make him akin to a demon?]

>[If God is omnipotent, then it must be true. Both the death of his family and the birth of demons were His intentions. If, however, He offers the excuse that He was unable to prevent it due to His limitations, then He is not omnipotent. Both a demon and a fraud are no different; neither could be called good.]

Well, that was quite the blasphemous statement. Feeling slightly awkward, I suggested a solution.

“Just mark it as a prohibited book for your followers.”

The man maintained his smile, though his eyebrows twitched slightly.

“I think this book should be burned.”

“Isn’t there freedom in what one chooses to read? Besides, it was approved by the professors, adhering to their criteria. It’s not a religious issue you should be discussing with me. Take it up with Rockefeller.”

The man fell silent, clearly frustrated.

As I began to push past them, I paused and turned to ask a question.

“Now that we’re talking about it, I’m curious—if you were the protagonist Helderic in the novel, what would you think?”

The man answered without hesitation.

“I would consider it all part of God’s will.”

While I am an atheist, I found myself wondering if that might actually be the case. Of course, the god they believed in was a fake one created by ‘The Eternal Eye,’ the ultimate shadow organization of Asares.

If a true god existed somewhere and was watching them from afar, then perhaps everything did indeed happen for a reason.

“Helderic realized that only at the very end.”

I subtly spoiled the ending, and the man seemed slightly less displeased. Since this sect had control over the student council, stirring up unnecessary conflict now would do no good. I felt the need to reduce hostility and establish at least a non-aggression pact.

“Anyway, I don’t intend to interfere with your religious freedom. As long as you don’t cause me any trouble, it’s fine.”

With that, I left.

***

The next day, 11:00 a.m.

In the Schlaphe Hall magic division classroom, the students were anxiously whispering among themselves. The topic was the upcoming promotions.

“Man, I’d be satisfied just getting into Buerger Hall.”

“They say if you don’t perform well in the first semester of your first year, it takes forever to get promoted. Some even stay here until graduation…”

“The results come out today, right? Ah, I’m so nervous I could die.”

Even the old professor, who usually lectured diligently, seemed to understand the significance of the moment and let it slide. It was a crucial event, after all.

Dorosian closed her book with a disgruntled look. As expected, it wasn’t a textbook but a genre novel.

“Ugh, shut up. Why all the fuss?”

“It’s promotion day. Of course, people are excited. Moving to Buerger Hall means better allowances and more benefits.”

“Hmm? Things aren’t that bad here, except for not being able to leave.”

Assigned to Schlaphe Hall but enjoying all its perks, Dorosian spoke with obvious privilege.

“Well, you only attend classes here, so you wouldn’t know. But Schlaphe Hall is far from comfortable—its dorms are shabby, to say the least.”

“Really?”

Dorosian, uninterested, reopened her book. Despite the persistent noise around her, she seemed determined to keep reading.

I, who was diligently attending class, sighed and glanced at the elderly professor sitting in his chair. He seemed resigned to the fact that today’s lesson was a bust.

“I was paying attention, though…”

With no other choice, I pulled out a genre novel of my own. Suddenly, Dorosian glanced sideways at my book, her lips curling into a sly smile.

“Oh, I’ve read that one before. The ending is—”

Where did she get the nerve to spoil it?

“The protagonist dies?”

Dorosian’s unimpressed expression softened, and she asked, “Rereading something you’ve already read?”

“Reading it a second time has its own charm. Knowing the ending makes the foreshadowing stand out more.”

I looked away from her and focused on my reading. For a while, the only sounds were scattered conversations and the turning of pages.

Eventually, the bell rang. It was lunchtime, but instead of heading to the cafeteria, the students moved toward the bulletin board.

There wasn’t much of a surprise in the results. As expected, I, along with Aslay, Limberton, Dorosian, Ricks, and Gravel, were assigned to Adele Hall. Ricks’s remaining gang members were promoted to Buerger Hall.

A faint chuckle escaped me.

Now that I think about it, I remember making a vow on the first day of admission. I had angrily declared in my room at Schlaphe Hall that I would make it to Adele Hall. It felt a bit nostalgic now.

***

A grand carriage moved toward a massive gate. Soldiers, clad in armor as if freshly made, marched with squared steps to clear the way.

“Lord Gillem has arrived. Open the gate!”

At the commander’s warm greeting, Gillem smiled broadly and waved from the carriage window. As the carriage entered the palace, attendants approached respectfully and opened the door, allowing Gillem to step onto the ground.

He continued mulling over his thoughts, which had occupied him throughout the journey.

‘Gedgar and the others lack a sense of urgency.’

Privately, Gillem agreed with their opinions. To place a ruffian on the same level as a great figure of the past was indeed laughable.

However, if there was even the slightest chance of something disrupting their peace, wouldn’t it be better to keep a close watch?

‘I heard Hersel Ben Tenest is with Frostheart. Wait, Frostheart…?’

Gillem suddenly recalled a memory he had set aside.

“Heh heh heh. Oh, right.”

Lady Derevian, who had used Tenest’s name as her shield. The red-haired woman had fled to that very place.

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