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Chapter 39: The Ingenious Move That Defeated the Mad Mage

Another week passed since the group competition was announced.

I have a compelling reason to perform exceptionally in this group competition.

The reason?

To leave a strong impression on a particular individual.

This person is a central figure in the empire and will significantly influence the future scenario.

‘They’ll definitely attend this group competition.’

That’s why I must achieve a remarkable performance at all costs.

“Senior, your stamina has really improved recently.”

Early morning.

Aisha, jogging alongside me, complimented my endurance.

Just as she said, my stamina continues to grow steadily.

The potential of my body, enhanced by Vikamon’s abilities, seems limitless.

It’s astonishing how quickly my stamina is improving, even to myself.

“It’s all thanks to you, Aisha.”

“Oh, not at all. It’s because of your hard work, senior.”

Aisha always has a way with words.

“Still, it’s not enough yet.”

Indeed, my physical strength and skills have advanced significantly in a short time.

That’s undoubtedly due to my efforts.

But even so, it’s not sufficient to secure outstanding results in the group competition.

‘It’s about time.’

It’s time to find a new card to help me navigate through the scenario.

Following my steel skin and magic engraving, I need something else.

While someone like Lucas could rely on sheer willpower to get through challenges,

I, who lacks Flame of Resolve, can’t afford to.

“Are you deep in thought again, senior?”

Aisha noticed me zoning out during our run, a habit she’s grown familiar with.

“Senior, it’s dangerous to get lost in thought while running. Should we take a break instead?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve run so much that not running feels stranger now.”

My body has grown so accustomed to running that it’s almost unnatural not to.

Aisha smiled, seemingly pleased that I had gotten so used to it.

She had always wanted a training partner, and I had filled that role for her.

Because of that, Aisha cared for me greatly.

“Aisha, what do you think the odds are of someone getting struck by lightning in their lifetime?”

Even when I asked a random question, Aisha took it seriously and pondered.

“Hmm, extremely rare, right? At least, I’ve never heard of anyone around me being struck.”

“Exactly. But there was someone who lived their life being struck by lightning repeatedly.”

“Someone like that actually existed?”

“Yeah, you could say their life was a series of tragic events.”

Aisha seemed puzzled, but this person was critical for my future plans.

‘The problem is...’

This individual was already dead, killed by a lightning strike.

＊＊＊

Lightning.

A phenomenon caused by an electrical discharge between clouds and the ground.

The odds of being struck by lightning in a lifetime are 1 in 280,000.

Such odds make it reasonable to consider anyone struck by lightning as extremely unlucky.

But there existed someone who had been struck by lightning.

Not just once, but a total of 108 times.

The name bestowed upon them: Lightning Caller.

This person met their end after being struck for the 107th time.

Their 108th lightning strike?

It hit their grave after they were buried.

Whether they were loved or hated by lightning remains a mystery.

That was Lightning Caller’s fate.

But they were dead.

So how could I possibly find them?

The Answer Lies in the Special Arts Department.

Special Arts.

A department created for those who couldn’t be neatly categorized into martial arts or magic disciplines.

Some students in this department excel in combat, while others wield abilities entirely unrelated to it.

Among these students is a peculiar second-year with a unique nickname: Little Ossuary.

Sporting a skull for a head, this individual is known for their eerie and enigmatic presence.

One day, he might suddenly set up a meal on the academy rooftop and talk to something unseen.

On another, he might light a fire in the woods near the academy and cause a commotion.

In the Firefly Flame Arc, his eccentricities often become the source of spooky events.

It turns out that the ghostly rumors circulating around the academy were all because of The Little Ossuary.

To meet this Little Ossuary,

I decided today—after finishing my classes—to grab a bag and head toward the Special Studies building.

Because of the item inside this bag, I had to endure that rascal Card’s teasing, which annoyed me to no end.

「Wangnon, haha, so you’re a guy after all! I knew you liked older women, but I didn’t think it was this serious!」

That bastard.

Next time I see him, I’m going to punch him.

I let out a sigh and looked up.

At that moment, the Special Studies building came into full view.

The building, perhaps to reflect the diversity of its students,

was adorned with all sorts of unusual objects.

From weapons I’d never seen before to decorative ornaments and glasswork,

it was an eclectic mix—both random and unique.

It felt like stepping into an antique shop.

Through the windows of passing classrooms, I saw groups of students engrossed in their work.

Some of them were experimenting with dangerous things, so I decided to quietly avoid eye contact.

Many quirky individuals in Special Arts were best left alone.

As I ventured further, the atmosphere grew eerier.

A chilling sensation ran down my spine, akin to walking through a graveyard.

Eventually, I arrived at a classroom door.

Though no one stood outside, faint presences flickered behind it.

I knocked twice and called out.

“Is anyone in there?”

Silence greeted me.

Left with no choice, I opened the door.

Whoosh!

A wave of cold air swept over me, sending a shiver down my spine.

It felt as if something that had been lingering inside had just left.

“Ah, they left.”

A regretful voice echoed.

Inside the dimly lit room, its windows covered by blackout curtains,

sat a man with a skull for a head at the center.

On the desk in front of him... there was a Ouija board, meant for spiritual communication.

He clicked his teeth together as if in irritation,

then glanced over at me.

Within the skull's face, his eyes gleamed faintly.

"Isn't it bad manners to enter without waiting for an answer to your knock?"

"Funny, I thought I heard you answer just now."

Of course, that was a lie.

Hearing my lie, he tilted his head.

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And soon enough, he realized the falsehood and responded with amusement.

"Ha ha... I never imagined someone would dare to lie to a ghost."

It seemed to match his taste.

A small sanctum.

Grantoni, a second-year in the special department.

He is a practitioner of spirit arts, also known as a soul sorcerer.

"Second-year, Hannon Irey."

And before I could introduce myself further, he mentioned my name.

"Ha ha... I've heard a lot about you."

There shouldn't be anyone who'd share my name with him.

The source was obvious—he must have heard it from the ghosts scattered across Zerion Academy.

"What have they been saying about me?"

"Congratulations. You're apparently a rare kind of lunatic! They all seem to like you."

I wasn’t sure what part of me they liked,

but fortunately, Grantoni viewed me favorably.

"And they’re grateful you’ve taken in the Empress."

I knew exactly who he meant by "the Empress."

The Empress of Steel, a Mystery—a being I had in my care.

A Mystery is an aberration, a being that failed to become a deity.

They share some similarities with ghosts, in that they linger in the world due to certain powers.

Ghosts, too, are spirits tied to this world by unresolved forces.

Perhaps that’s why Grantoni, having seen the Empress depart, seemed to harbor a certain sentiment.

"Thanks for the kind words."

"Ha ha... That’s why you’re so popular with the ghosts. If you’d like, I could introduce you to one."

"If you’re offering, can I pick someone specific?"

When I spoke boldly, Grantoni burst into laughter.

Most who faced him would shrink away in fear or unease.

After all, he mingled not with the living, but with the dead.

He was walking a path that distanced him from the world of the living.

For someone like me to approach him so casually—it was clearly a novelty for him.

"Ha ha! Sure. Who do you have in mind?"

Though there was no visible gauge, I felt his favorability toward me rise.

"The Thunder Caller."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small box.

It was an item I had acquired a long time ago while obtaining the Veil’s Bandages.

It was something I had barely managed to take from the Mad mage, Vinesha.

Ssshhh—

I opened the lid of the box, revealing a small pendant inside.

Thunk—

Grantoni’s skeletal head stiffened as he recognized the box's contents.

Naturally so.

To him, Vinesha was a figure of hatred.

The Mad mage had killed Grantoni’s mentor.

And the box I now held contained an artifact stolen from his mentor after their death.

"You can ask your mentor directly about this, if you’d like."

After all, even his late mentor lingered nearby.

Thud—

I closed the lid of the box.

Before coming to Zerion Academy to clear the Flame Butterfly Arc,

I had prepared everything I could.

This was one of the key items for the ending.

Grantoni remained silent,

momentarily stunned by the unexpected item I had presented.

After a long pause, he slowly raised his head.

In his dark, empty sockets, no emotion could be discerned.

"How did you get this from Vinesha? She guards it closely—it wouldn’t have been easy."

Vinesha is a mid-game boss, appearing in Act 4.

She’s an opponent far beyond what most could handle.

The answer to how I acquired the pendant was simple.

"I seduced her."

Though his skull lacked eyes, I could sense the impression of him blinking in surprise.

"When I seduced her, she gave me anything I wanted."

Love blinds people.

So, I seduced Vinesha.

It’s not for nothing that Vikamon, the host from the House of Pleasures, made a living wooing women.

I had a natural gift—my appearance.

I used it to its fullest.

Vinesha has a thing for younger men.

Grantoni stared at me blankly,

then suddenly burst into raucous laughter.

"Ha ha ha! That was the last thing I expected to hear. Whether it’s true or not, you’ve brought the item before me, so I’ll believe you."

It’s true, though.

If I’d looked like Vikamon, he would’ve understood.

"Ha ha... Fine."

He stood up lightly from his seat.

"I’ll summon the ghost you want."

The deal was done.

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