The moment I gazed at the lens, my Craftsman ability activated.
[Lens of Lavzahi]
< Lv.33 >
< Consumable > < Unique >
A mysterious lens that reveals the abilities of others.
When stored in the inventory, it allows the user to perceive the abilities of targets.
Holding the lens, I glanced into a mirror.
Without even opening my status window, my stats appeared before my eyes.
“……”
I quickly shoved the mirror away.
Level 41 already, and my HP still didn’t even break a thousand.
Pathetic.
To be specific, it meant my health was so low that a single hit from an ordinary monster at my level would be enough to kill me if I wasn’t wearing armor.
Sure, if I bundled myself in layers of defensive gear I could survive normal monsters, but against a sub-boss or boss? I’d be nothing more than an eggshell hurled at a boulder.
If I didn’t want to die, I’d have to keep leaving combat to the others and stay in the rear.
Still, with the Lens of Lavzahi, planning for future enemies will be far easier. Especially if we run into monsters that never appeared in the game.
The chance to test it came much sooner than I expected.
“Why don’t you give up your HAUT spot to us?”
At the entrance of Gwangcheon’s male dorm, I found five students waiting for me.
Well—students sounded wrong. Technically, all five were my seniors.
“Are you listening to us?”
A girl looked at me with irritation.
“Yes, I’m listening.”
As I looked at them, information floated beside their faces.
So the lens isn’t entirely a blessing. No off switch, huh?
“Ara and Mahur were both told by the teachers for a long time that they’d be the ones going to HAUT. Right up until you first-years were chosen.”
The one speaking—the irritated girl—was named Ri Kuran.
“We’re third-years. This is our last chance to participate. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes. I understand exactly what you want.”
Their faces lit with relief.
“But even so, I can’t simply give up my right to compete.”
“W-what…?”
Kuran faltered.
“If you disagree with the selection process, shouldn’t you speak to the teachers about it?”
“We already did!” she snapped. “But the headmaster announced the decision won’t change! That’s why we’re here talking to you!”
“Enough.”
Another girl blocked Kuran with her arm.
Amber hair, tied into a side-tail.
“Ara…”
The girl—Lee Ara—looked straight at me.
“Please. Mahur and I have been training all year for this. Just once—can’t you give us this chance?”
No. That wasn’t possible.
There were too many things I needed to gain by entering HAUT myself.
But something told me that even if I rejected them now, they’d keep coming back. That would be irritating.
“Then how about this?” I said, meeting Ara’s gaze.
“An hour from now, we’ll settle this with a 3-on-3 match for the right to HAUT.”
“A duel?”
I nodded.
“If you defeat us, then it will prove your skills are superior. That you’re more deserving of being HAUT representatives. Of course, if the opposite happens, it’ll prove the reverse. Simple, fair, and clean. Don’t you think?”
“You arrogant little—” Kuran began, her face red.
“I agree.”
The one who cut her off was a dark-skinned boy. His name—Mahur—appeared above him.
Ara glanced at him, then back at me.
“Fine. We’ll do it. What format?”
“Academy standard. Wooden weapons, one basic skill slot, one basic skill gem. No other gear or items. Victory goes to whichever side breaks all of the opponents’ barrier belts first.”
“Agreed. No objections. But why 3-on-3? Your squad has four people.”
“One of us went home, not in Seoul right now.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Then let’s meet in the outdoor training grounds in an hour. I’ll borrow the barrier belts and weapons.”
After they left, I fiddled with my smartwatch.
Moments later, I met Meiling and Seo Yui in front of the main building.
“This is ridiculous.”
Meiling folded her arms, scowling.
“Five seniors ganging up on one first-year to demand his HAUT slot? That’s no different from intimidation.”
“It does seem that way,” Seo Yui admitted. “But why didn’t they come to me?”
“You’re a second-year—and the top of your grade. No one could argue if you were chosen for HAUT. But Nam Yein probably looked like the weakest link.”
That was exactly what I’d thought too.
“Most likely they just thought Yein was the easiest to push around.” Meiling scoffed.
Hearing it out loud made my blood boil.
“Either way, I can’t stand them. So this duel you agreed to—should I smuggle in my hunting staff and blow them away?”
“If you did, forget HAUT. The police would be here first.”
I shot her a look.
Without proper protective gear, being hit by Meiling’s battle spells meant instant death.
“Tch. I was joking.”
“But… what if we lose?” Seo Yui asked quietly.
“That won’t happen.”
Every single one of them was lower-level than us. Their individual stats, compared to Meiling or Seo Yui, were laughable.
I knew that because I’d checked with the lens.
“Still, we’ll need a strategy.”
Because while it was supposed to be 3-on-3, in reality I couldn’t fight. It would essentially be 2-on-3.
I laid out the tactics we’d use.
Time passed, and soon we arrived at the outdoor training grounds.
“There are a lot of people here.”
Seo Yui muttered, dressed in the Academy’s standard combat uniform.
The entire dorm seemed to have turned out to watch.
Word spread fast.
Or maybe… those smug-faced seniors spread the word themselves.
I studied the faces of the opponents standing across from us.
Third-years Lee Ara and Mahur were, of course, participating, and the last one was the most obnoxious of the bunch earlier—Ri Kuran.
“Now then, the spar between Nam Yein’s squad and Lee Ara’s squad will begin.”
The one serving as referee was none other than the student council president, Park Gwangah.
I had run into her by chance in the faculty office earlier. That was when I learned she, too, hadn’t gone home for break.
“A duel, huh? Then I’ll officiate. If something happens, you’ll need someone to stop it before it gets dangerous.”
That was exactly the sort of attitude you’d expect from a student council president.
“The only skills permitted are the three basic ones, plus each individual’s innate ability. Victory goes to the team that disables all of the opponent’s barrier belts first. Attacking someone after their shield has gone down results in instant disqualification for that team. Now, activate your belts.”
We all pressed the devices at our waists.
A layer of blue light shimmered to life, wrapping us like a second skin.
Meiling took up a wooden staff, Seo Yui a wooden spear and shield.
Their side readied as well—Lee Ara with a staff, Mahur with a wooden sword and shield, and Ri Kuran with a wand.
I checked their stats once more.
Ri Kuran was level 24.
Lee Ara, level 30.
Mahur, level 31.
Their levels were decent enough. But their aptitudes… far inferior to Meiling’s and Seo Yui’s.
Wait.
Something caught my eye. I scrutinized their uniforms more closely.
…So that’s it.
Looked like they needed a proper lesson.
“On three, the duel begins. Three, two, one!”
At Park Gwangah’s signal, the spar commenced.
The first to move was Ri Kuran.
She lifted her wand, closed her eyes—then crimson flames flared around Ara and Mahur.
“What the!?”
“Is she team-killing!?”
“No, idiot. That’s Kuran’s buff!”
Spectators muttered from the sidelines.
They were right—it was Kuran’s ability, Soul Conflagration. It imbued her allies’ attacks with fire damage.
Lee Ara’s ability was Flame Earth, an area spell similar to Meiling’s, dealing fire damage to everything within range.
Fire buff, fire magic. A strong synergy.
As for Mahur, his ability was Retribution, boosting damage reflection. A perfect skill for a frontline fighter.
Altogether, their squad wasn’t bad. Strong abilities, good synergy.
But I wasn’t about to let them show it off.
Whoosh!
Seo Yui dashed forward, spear leveled.
“Gah!”
“Wh-what!?”
Ara and Kuran gasped in shock.
Even with a speed skill activated, her sudden burst was too fast.
Mahur scrambled to raise his shield to block her.
“Pointless,” I murmured, watching.
Seo Yui slipped past him effortlessly, plunging deep into their backline.
Her wooden spear lashed out, striking both mages in a blur.
“Ah…”
“Impossible!”
Both girls’ faces froze in disbelief as their shields shattered.
I caught sight of Seo Yui’s face.
Instead of her usual blue half-mask, a crimson one covered her features.
Her ability—Twin Masks. She had shifted into Attack Mode.
In this mode, all her defensive stats were halved, and her shield’s block chance dropped to zero.
But in exchange, every bit of lost defense converted into raw attack power. Her block chance? Converted straight into crit rate, attack speed, and movement speed.
A form built purely for offense.
It let Seo Yui serve as both tank and damage dealer.
The only drawback—Attack Mode lasted just ten seconds. Then it automatically reverted to Defense Mode, and she couldn’t activate it again for three minutes.
That was why most players in the game preferred to use her as a tank.
But right now, with the red mask still active, Seo Yui lunged at Mahur.
“Ugh!”
Mahur raised his wooden sword to counter.
A fatal mistake.
Because it left his back turned to the mage who had just finished casting.
Zap!
Meiling’s mana bolt struck his back, shattering his shield instantly.
“Stop!”
Park Gwangah raised her hand.
“Victory goes to Nam Yein’s squad!”
Cheers erupted all around us.
“Whoa!”
“Seo Yui’s crazy strong!”
“Did you see? Nam Yein didn’t even lift a finger.”
“Guess he doesn’t need to. That’s confidence.”
Not confidence. Just useless in combat.
“Well done, senior.”
I nodded to Seo Yui as she approached.
“It worked just like you planned, Yein. Quick and decisive.”
“They were simply too weak,” Meiling said bluntly.
“Ugh… What the hell was that… The difference is too much…”
Ri Kuran ground her teeth, glaring at us.
Ara and Mahur looked stunned, hollow-eyed.
But it wasn’t over yet. Their real shock was still to come.
I walked up to Ara and extended my hand.
When she reflexively reached, I yanked her arm and rolled up her sleeve.
“What are you doing!?”
“Yein!?”
Gasps rose from behind me.
“Ah.”
Even Park Gwangah let out a short cry—not because of my actions.
“This is a bit underhanded, don’t you think?”
I spoke coldly, staring at Ara, Mahur, and Kuran as their faces drained of blood.
On Ara’s wrist gleamed a bracelet—without doubt, a demonic artifact.
“Show your wrists too,” I ordered.
Mahur and Kuran froze, refusing to move.
Park Gwangah stepped forward, grabbed Mahur’s arm, and yanked his sleeve up before he could resist.
“…Ha.”
She exhaled a long sigh.
On his wrist was the same thin bracelet as Ara’s.
(End of Chapter)