Chapter 14: It’s too stimulating

Mana surged along the pristine white blade, scattering a constellation of stars into the air.  

A dazzling yet ferocious flow.  

The white light, born and forged to annihilate demons, shimmered within the holy sword.  

[The goddess, seeing the hero after a long time, flashed a radiant smile.]  

Replica.  

A counterfeit holy sword that exists only within this game.  

Even so, its durability was high enough to withstand my mana, and the way it gleamed and sparkled felt remarkably similar.  

Lately, I hadn’t had much reason to draw a holy sword, so encountering one now felt both nostalgic and exciting—especially since the opponent was a familiar monster. 

I couldn’t help but feel a little thrilled.  

Grrrrr.  

Personally, trolls used to be one of my favorite monsters.  

Not their repulsive appearance, of course.  

Who could possibly like their green skin, identical to that of goblins and orcs, covered in bumpy acne?  

And then there were the particularly dim-witted ones that shamelessly strutted around with their lower parts dangling free. 

Even with my half-dead sense of aesthetics, a troll’s appearance was utterly ghastly.  

Clank.

If there was one redeeming quality in these ugly creatures, it was their tenacity, their resilience.  

No matter how many hits they took, they stubbornly clung to life and kept coming at you with unrelenting spirit.  

“Perfect for a warm-up.”  

Yes, I liked that they didn’t die easily. 

So, hold on as long as you can.  

“May the blessings of the divine be with you.”  

Gripping my sword, I faced the beast charging at me, half-crazed, clutching its club.  

***
A mage’s movements are typically static, capable of turning the battlefield to ash with a single spell, while a swordsman secures tactical victory with swift, decisive action.  

Before a mage can dominate the field, a swordsman moves quickly to eliminate variables. This was the philosophy of the founder of the illustrious Alabad family, one of the world’s most renowned magical lineages.  

If mages were vulnerable in close combat, defenseless against ambushes that breached their barriers, then why not create their own warriors as a countermeasure?  

A mage and a warrior in one.  

By mimicking their natural predators and mastering both offense and defense, a single mage could achieve tactical and strategic victory alone.  

Thus began the Alabad legacy—infusing mana into ingots, shaping them, and manipulating them.  

The Alabad of puppets.  

Sephine Alabad, hailed as a prodigy within this lineage, carried a certain pride.  

Barely twenty years old, she believed that with just a little more time, she could achieve anything effortlessly, without the desperate struggle others endured.  

She didn’t particularly dream of being a villain, but reaching a state where she could freely control her ingot puppets—a kind of enlightenment—didn’t seem entirely impossible.  

Though alone, she could mimic everything: warriors, shield-bearers, mages, secretaries, even vehicles like carriages.  

She was a mage who often holed up in her room out of sheer boredom, but she had confidence.  

Her genius intuition and talent for mimicry had turned her ingot puppets into exceptional warriors.  

She could wield a sword—far more skillfully than most students.  

Slash— 

That was the confidence she’d had.  

A massive wooden club, larger than her, split in half and spun through the air.  

In an instant, one of the troll’s arms was severed.  

“Huh?”  

Sephine Alabad, who had been channeling mana into a fireball at the tip of her staff, widened her eyes.  

Just as she thought she’d followed the hero’s movements perfectly, the scene shifted.  

The club, which had seemed poised to crush the hero’s head, was reduced to splinters in a flash, and the wildly flailing arm met the same fate.  

Had she missed something?  

No—it wasn’t that.  

Sephine Alabad’s keen eyes and instincts as a mage screamed at her.  

This wasn’t something to scoff at as a mere man’s skill, nor was it comparable to the movements of an average student or swordsman.  

Even if she couldn’t put it into words, the innate fear etched into a mage’s heart rang like an alarm.  

There, right in front of her, stood a monster.  

“Raaaargh!”  

As the troll’s severed arm—its stump cauterized by searing heat—flew through the air, it let out a scream and swung its remaining arm. The hero, instead of retreating, stepped forward.  

Slipping past the troll’s trajectory like a mirage, the hero closed in.  

It didn’t connect.  

The sword’s tip dipped briefly downward, then rose again, severing the tendons in the troll’s ankle.  

The troll staggered and fell to its knees on the ground.  

Boom—

At the same moment, the fist it had just swung shattered into pieces, losing all form.  

Was it so terrifying that even a monster felt fear?  

The troll’s eyes widened, its massive body trembling violently.  

It flailed its severed arm and began dragging itself backward.  

“Grr… Raaargh…!”  

The monster was fleeing.  

Sephine Alabad, watching the scene in a daze, suddenly noticed the fireball at the tip of her staff glowing brightly, having reached its target strength.  

Oh, it’s only been ten seconds.

Sephine Alabad aimed her staff at the troll’s back as it limped away, dragging one leg with desperate effort, but she soon shook her head and lowered it.  

The hero, standing still as if waiting for her to finish it off, showed a hint of confusion.  

Even though a likable man was watching her, Sephine Alabad’s mind drifted, dazed, as she replayed the moment from just before over and over again in an instant.  

“…Ah.”  

The radiant light, weaving through the air like the Milky Way, continued to flicker before her eyes.  

***

“Ugh…”  

After the magic game experience lecture ended, I gained a small epiphany.  

It was so unexpected that my mind went blank for a moment.  

Even though some time had passed since the class ended, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave my seat, only blinking in a daze.  

“Goddess.”  

[The goddess asks why I’m calling her.]  

“Assuming I hunt a bit aggressively, do you think the women here would find it off-putting if someone violently took down monsters or demons?”  

[The goddess ponders what to say to such a complicated question.]  

Honestly, whether hunting monsters was violent or not didn’t really matter much.  

If you took them down skillfully, that was that—what standard could there be?  

Even if there was one, I’d burned them with mana so no blood spilled, and I’d only sliced through the necessary parts with precise, efficient strikes.  

My sword was completely innocent!  

I wanted to insist on my innocence like that…  

But the reason I was suddenly worrying about something like “violence,” which I’d never considered in that other world, was because a friend—who I thought I’d been on good terms with until just a moment ago—bolted the second class ended.  

Sephine Alabad.  

My golden goblin friend had pulled a runner.  

“Wait, why?”  

Weren’t we friends?  

Maybe she was hungry and it was lunchtime, or she urgently needed the bathroom, or her next class was too close.  

There could’ve been some unavoidable reason, but for some reason, the warm gaze she’d been sending my way all along seemed to shift slightly at the end.  

It felt like she was avoiding eye contact with me before hightailing it out of there.  

Then maybe there was something off about my hunting at the very end.  

Since things had been fine up until then, it was the only logical conclusion.  

“Was my swordsmanship too sloppy?”  

I wanted to believe that wasn’t it.  

If it really was that, it’d be more shocking in a way than if she’d avoided me for being too violent.  

I’d rather think she dodged me because something about my fight with the troll rubbed her the wrong way, not because my sword skills were so pathetic she was disappointed…  

[The goddess says it’s probably not that.]  

“Oh, what do you know, Goddess?”  

“Haa…”  

Since I couldn’t know the answer without asking the person herself, I decided not to dwell on it further amid my unease and finally stood up.  

I felt a little sad at the end, but it wasn’t like I’d gained nothing from this class.  

[Magic Research Department: Maho]  

[Hunter Support Department: Imir]  

Though there wasn’t a spot for my goblin friend, whom I’d gotten close to in the game, my previously empty phone contact list now had two new names added.  

<Jackpot!>  

<Treasure Acquired!>  

<Obtained the Elixir of Truth.>  

I’d even scored some decent rewards.  

After defeating the troll, two Elixirs of Truth had popped out of the treasure chest—one for me and one for my goblin friend.  

Though it was imbued with high-level magic and felt incredibly real, I hadn’t thought much of it since it was just a game.  

But then—  

“It’s a prize for the top player!”  

The professor had apparently prepared it separately and handed me the real thing as an extra reward.  

[Elixir of Truth]  

[Reveals the target’s true form.]  

A small glass vial, fitting neatly in my hand, contained a reddish liquid that sloshed faintly inside.  

Though I couldn’t use magic myself, I was seasoned enough from fighting demons to gauge its level and quality.  

“Goddess, this is definitely a good item, right?”  

[The goddess, frowning dramatically, insists she doesn’t know anything.]  

Even if the sulky goddess didn’t get it, I did.  

This was an exceptional item—valuable enough to fetch a high price if I sold it elsewhere.  

It was so potent that even I might feel some effect if I used it.  

“Though the effect probably won’t last long.”  

Seeing it actually materialize made me realize the professor was far more impressive than I’d thought.  

“Score.”  

***

Back in her room in the Academy’s special autonomous district, Sephine Alabad clutched her pounding chest and took short, ragged breaths as soon as she stepped inside.  

“Hoo, hoo, haa…”  

Her face had turned as red as an apple, losing its usual composure.  

Yes, she wasn’t herself.  

Not as the steely mage who always kept her cool, nor as the typically calm human being.  

She was, unmistakably, in a state of intense excitement.  

Recalling the moment from earlier, Sephine Alabad grasped her flushed cheeks.  

As a mage who controlled steel warriors at the forefront, and as a woman, the hero’s movements she’d just witnessed were so breathtaking they sent shivers down her spine.  

“…Ugh, it’s too intense.”  

Her heart was in serious danger right now.