This World Needs a Hero

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A group of students walked the campus bathed in a vibrant green hue.

They were ‘Extreme’ students, on the path leading to the announced classroom.

On their excited faces, tension and anticipation were mixed in equal parts.

“How do you think the class will be?”

“I don’t know. Well, why didn’t they tell us anything until the day before the class, except for the location?”

“Today is the orientation. They’ll tell us now.”

Evergreen Solintail was among them.

With rosy cheeks, she followed her classmates briskly.

“I can’t believe I made it!”

It still felt unbelievable.

After a nerve-wracking interview, she thought she had failed miserably, but here she was.

She had passed.

The moment she shared the news of her success with her hometown was still vivid.

“Hey! Our child became the disciple of the hero! I’m so happy!”

“Calm down a bit, dear… Sniff, calm down, sniff… So proud of our daughter.”

Recalling her tearful parents, Evergreen clenched her fists.

‘I have to do well for real.’

They were now in front of the classroom, and the door was wide open.

“The professor hasn’t arrived yet.”

Evergreen let out an exclamation, resisting the urge to look silly.

Seeing the empty podium, her tension eased a bit.

“Wow… Huh.”

Evergreen exclaimed but bit her lip, worried that it might seem cheesy.

‘As expected of Rosenstark….’

The classroom was exceptionally neat, elegant, and impressively spacious.

Luxurious wooden flooring.

Immaculate, ivory-coloured walls.

Long desks arranged in a tiered fashion, providing ample space even if used as a military command post.

Every displayed item seemed as refined as a work of art.

Evergreen cautiously walked through the rows of desks.

Names were attached to the backrests, indicating assigned seats.

‘Jerome… Claire… Ban… Where’s my seat… Ah, there it is.’

Evergreen put down her bag and looked at the adjacent seat.

A girl with red hair was looking at her with jewel-like eyes.

“Oh, hi…”

“Yeah, hi.”

…Finding joy in a simple greeting felt a bit pathetic.

But she had thought of just ignoring her!

Evergreen hesitated on how to react but ended up smiling.

…Meanwhile.

Other students in the classroom were looking at the bottles placed on the desks with suspicion.

A transparent liquid shimmered inside the glass bottles.

“What’s this potion?”

“I don’t know. Is it from the previous class?”

The only second-year student among the attendees, Daindart, pointed at the blackboard on the podium.

It was then that the others noticed.

“It seems like they want us to drink it.”

Clear instructions were written in an elegant font.

Divide and drink with your partner.

A moment of silence.

“…Why would we blindly drink this without knowing what it is?”

The first to voice opposition was a blond boy sitting at the back.

‘He’s…’

Evergreen also knew the student.

His name was Gerald Bryce.

His specialty was spear techniques.

As the son of the Whitefang defending the southeastern part of the empire, he was a belligerent guy, engaging in spars in the dormitories even before the start of the semester.

He was also the boy she had given the interview with.

The classroom had been quietly divided into two halves.

“Still, the professor told us to drink it. What if we get scolded for not drinking it?”

“Are you sure the professor wrote that? What if someone played a prank?”

“Oh, come on…”

“Even by the way it’s written, it doesn’t seem like the professor.”

Thunk!

Someone forcefully tapped the desk, marking the moment when the debate became heated.

All eyes turned to the source of the sound.

“If you’re going to doubt, just doubt. Why talk so much?”

A tall and well-built boy tilted his head with a mocking smile, gazing at them.

A thick and handsome face.

Several sharp scars adorned his face, giving him a rugged appearance.

Evergreen widened her eyes, looking at him.

Unusually, he wore a black leather glove only on his right hand.

‘…Scary!!’

The successor to the Mercenary King.

He was a veteran who had already excelled in various battlefields, unlike the other kids.

An intimidating presence that didn’t seem at all like someone of the same age.

The children who would have normally resisted aggressive speech fell silent.

“If a superior commands, you follow. This is basic.”

The boy with a fierce presence made everyone close their mouths.

“Let’s trust Professor’s words. It’s just a drink anyway.”

Luke, who was about to grab the glass bottle, hesitated for a moment and then looked at the adjacent seat.

Gulp, gulp.

A petite girl, barely reaching his chest, had already emptied half of the bottle and was extending the remaining one toward him.

With black hair and black eyes; besides that, she had no distinctive features.

The nameplate on her chair simply read ‘Nyhill.’

Cuculli, who had been watching the situation with interest from the front row, applauded.

“Hahaha, that’s the way! Actions speak louder than words! Wow, impressive!”

“….”

“I should drink before that idiot!”

Snick!

Cuculli, using her fangs, effortlessly opened the bottle and gulped down the potion.

She was the one who initiated it.

With a slightly uneasy expression, the other students gradually raised their glass bottles.

Evergreen cautiously looked at the girl beside her.

“Should I go first?”

“…Just don’t say anything.”

“Yeah!”

As each student emptied their bottles, they watched each other nervously, anticipating what would happen.

“What’s this? Nothing happened.”

“Do you feel anything different?”

“Not at all… It just tastes awfully bad.”

Only a very small fraction of them, with sensitive senses, furrowed their brows.

But before they could voice their thoughts, the classroom door swung open.

The commotion settled surprisingly quickly.

Thunk!

A tall figure, making the podium look smaller, entered.

Following closely was a petite assistant, making the podium seem even more diminutive.

The Hero standing silently at the center of the podium slowly scanned the classroom.

His stern gaze, visible beyond the foreign glasses, scrutinized the students.

“Greetings. I am Ted Redymer, the professor who will be in charge of this course.”

The brief introduction concluded, but the applause that should have followed was stifled.

The atmosphere seemed to dictate that nobody moved too hastily.

Thunk!

Belatedly, Cuculli, the only one to clap, smiled awkwardly and discreetly hid her hands beneath the desk.

“You all followed the instructions well.”

“…Keh!”

“Gerald Bryce. What’s the matter?”

The boy, who had belatedly consumed the potion, hastily bowed his head.

The Hero continued, seemingly indifferent to it.

“Most of you probably can’t yet anticipate how my class will proceed, correct?”

The students cautiously nodded, a silent agreement.

“Here, the first thing you will learn is how to survive.”

The Hero slowly surveyed the audience.

“What do you think ensures survival on the battlefield?”

Considering it an easy question, murmurs of various answers echoed throughout the room.

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The most common responses were related to ‘strength’ or ‘power.’

The Hero nodded.

“Strength. Of course, it’s crucial. However, it alone is not enough. What determines life and death in a critical moment is…”

His ashen eyes flashed.

“Whether you’ve experienced a similar situation, the presence or absence of real-life experience.”

“Therefore, the purpose of my class is, as the name suggests, to push you to the extreme.”

The Hero’s rugged hand pointed at the empty bottles on the desks.

“The potion you just drank is a part of that process.”

In an instant, the classroom became somewhat chaotic.

A common question lingered in their minds.

‘What is this?’

‘What is in this potion that’s supposed to push us to the extreme?’

The answer was promptly provided.

“The potion you just drank contains a toxic substance that scatters magic power. For the next hour, you won’t be able to use magic.”

“Of course, some of you might forcibly bring back a bit of magic. However…”

The Hero’s cool and solemn gaze passed over several students, including Rysel and Luke.

“I recommend not doing so. Since it’s an action that goes against the intention of the class, immediate consequences are to be expected.”

The students, wearing perplexed expressions, blinked their eyes and exchanged whispers.

“A potion that prevents us from raising magic power? Is there such a thing in reality?”

“I’ve heard it’s traded in places like the black market.”

Most of the students displayed signs of confusion.

Understandably so, as among them, those not from magical backgrounds were rare.

Magic had been a natural part of their lives since early childhood, nearly as mundane as the air they breathed.

…And now it was suddenly gone?

However, it didn’t take long for the bewildered expressions to turn into shock as the alarming realization spread through the classroom.

“What, what is this? My magic power isn’t working for real.”

“Wow, this can’t be… the feeling is really strange!”

The students looked at each other with faces paling.

For them, mana was as familiar as the air.

The sudden absence of it felt almost like going back to a time when they first grasped a sword.

Magic was also used for physical enhancement.

And suddenly losing it was an unpleasant experience.

“…Feels like going back to when I first gripped a sword.”

Once a certain mana level was reached, without doing specific physical training, one could surpass human limits in strength, senses, stamina, and more through training mana alone.

They could move swiftly like beasts, handle heavy weapons like twigs, and possess enduring stamina, do all as long as mana allowed.

Almost a lifetime together, but the sudden disappearance of this power left the students psychologically shaken.

However, the Hero continued speaking, seemingly indifferent to their internal struggles.

“Now, pair up with someone you resonate with. It’s both a spar and practical exercise. Your scores will be reflected, so give it your best.”

The tense students slowly made their way to the center of the classroom.

—

Gerald Bryce was a born spearman.

Among his peers and even among adults in the neighboring territories, finding someone who could match him was rare.

But Gerald Bryce, unable to use magic…

‘…Damn!’

Gerald swung a practice spear with anger boiling from the tip of his head.

Whether there was an iron core inside or not, it was disgustingly heavy.

Huung!

The groaning tip of the spear barely grazed past his opponent’s shoulder.

‘Ah, come on! Hit me already!’

Despite several more exchanges in the training, he didn’t seem to consider winning.

‘Even though I overwhelmingly won in a sparring match back at the dormitory.’

It was the first class.

His peers, as well as the Hero instructor, were watching him.

…Even though he had overwhelmingly won against his opponent in a sparring match at the dormitory.

So did the granddaughter of the Sword Saint.

So did the disciple of the Mercenary King.

Being on equal footing with the children of tribal chiefs in terms of class enrollment, without the distinctions, gave Gerald an uneasy feeling, as he unconsciously considered himself above their level.

‘…The spear is heavy.’

To wield polearms like a spear effectively, strong physical strength is necessary.

However, like everyone else, Gerald neglected physical training since gaining the ability to use mana.

It was inefficient.

Systematic training involves damaging muscles, then allowing them to recover through ample rest and nutrition.

The long and tedious process is repeated countless times until strength significantly increases.

Gerald believed that using that time to practice mana control or study spear techniques would be more worthwhile.

As a result, his physical strength and stamina lagged behind compared to his growth in mana.

The years of dedicated practice in the Rising Spear Technique seemed pale in comparison.

As the sparring continued, Gerald found himself limited to basic thrusts, swings, and blocks.

“Heuk, heuk.”

His heart thumped uncomfortably, and sweat obscured his vision.

It was a sensation he had long forgotten.

The helplessness, the absurdity of his situation, and the real-time realization of his diminishing self-worth became unbearable.

As the opponent’s sword tip grazed Gerald’s chest several times…

Puk!

He couldn’t withstand the humiliation of being defeated by a younger opponent in real-time.

Unable to hide his frustration, Gerald slammed his practice spear onto the floor.

Puk!

Ddaenggrang!

“Gerald Bryce.”

Amidst the noisy classroom filled with energy and the sound of breaking, a low voice echoed.

“What are you doing right now?”

Gerald snapped back to attention, lifting his head.

The quiet gray eyes were fixed on him, a gaze that had neither thoughts nor emotions.

Oh no.

“I-I…”

“Are you declaring defeat?”

“No, absolutely not!”

Gerald hastily gestured, picking up his spear again.

He swore it wasn’t his intention.

He was just extremely irritated by the current situation.

“Then, what is it?”

“…”

“Why did you throw the spear, Gerald Bryce?”

Silence fell in the classroom.

The curious gazes of his peers were directed at Gerald.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but some seemed to be mocking him.

What should I do?

The boy’s sweaty hands tightly gripped the spear shaft.

In this situation, he needed to say something, anything, as an explanation.

Maybe being honest was the right choice.

Summoning a courage he hadn’t felt in his entire life, Gerald spoke up.

“…I couldn’t understand why we are practicing in this condition.”

“Why is that?”

Well, why indeed.

How could he know?

Not being able to use mana.

Unable to enhance the body.

…What meaning could there be in practicing and being evaluated in such a rare condition?

The boy, with an unjust expression, was silently observed by the Hero.

Adding to his calm tone, the Hero said, “Would I get angry at a reasonable objection? If you have an opinion, speak up.”

“…I understand that the purpose of the class is to experience extreme situations. However, completely sealing off mana is almost like asking us to fight with our limbs tied.”

“Being evaluated in an environment where I can’t express even 10% of my abilities, I’m not sure what meaning there is in that.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Gerald noticed that several of his peers were nodding in agreement.

‘Right! It’s not just me who thinks this is strange.’

Mana increases recovery as its absolute value increases.

At their level, there was almost no risk of them running out of energy even in a fierce battle.

So, the conditions and circumstances given to them were somewhat forced.

That was Gerald’s thought.

“…I see.”

The Hero twisted his lips, looking at the bold boy in front of him.

“Some things you can’t understand until you experience them yourself.”

With these words, the Hero gestured to the assistant. “Pia, bring a detoxification potion and five mana suppression potions.”

Gerald felt an eerie foreboding.

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