Chapter 8: Hellish Gym Class (3)
Fortunately, as I stepped forward, I wasn’t met with a flood of stares.
Perhaps the others, having failed to lift the cube themselves, assumed I wouldn’t succeed either.
Or maybe they simply lacked the energy to pay attention. Either way, it was a relief.
If I had to guess, it was probably the latter.
The ordinary students had grouped together in small clusters, panting heavily.
They seemed like they wanted to say something to each other, but I couldn’t fathom what they were trying to accomplish when they couldn’t even catch their breath properly.
I wasn’t criticizing them for huddling together just because I lacked friends.
I simply didn’t understand it. Did being in a group somehow make their exhaustion less miserable? Why did people cling so desperately to the idea of grouping up?
The mana breathers, in contrast, were faring better.
Unlike the ordinary students who had outright collapsed, they were all still on their feet, chatting lightly among themselves. Most of their comments revolved around complaints about the instructor.
Even though no one paid me any mind, one person was still staring at me intently: Golden Sunshine.
It wasn’t hostility or malice. His gaze was filled with pure curiosity, but that only made it worse. It was so oppressive that I almost wished he were glaring at me with ill intent instead.
In both my past life and this one, I had never encountered such relentless scrutiny. It scared me. What did he see in me? Maybe he really was a stereotypical playboy with bleached-blond hair, tanning, and a shameless appetite for women.
I wasn’t particularly remarkable, but if he was the type who didn’t care, then…
The thought that this notorious womanizer might have set his sights on me made my skin crawl.
Even though my body was female, my mind wasn’t. Just imagining such a scenario made me nauseous.
Stop thinking about it. Don’t let your imagination run wild. Focus on the cube. If I concentrate on that, I can forget about it.
The cube was clearly no ordinary object. Judging by how casually the instructor had pulled it out earlier, he’d done this plenty of times.
The worn bandages wrapped around the handle were stained a sickly yellow and reddish-brown, as if soaked with the pain and despair of its previous victims.
Blood. That’s definitely dried blood.
I could picture a student’s palms getting shredded as they stubbornly tried to lift it.
The fact that Georg hadn’t even bothered to clean it said a lot about his character.
The moment I gripped the handle, I could feel the malice of whoever had designed this thing.
Its structure was deliberately unbalanced, causing it to slip if I tried to lift it with both hands. It was made to be as difficult as possible to handle.
I pulled with all my strength, but it didn’t budge, not even a millimeter.
I doubted anyone but a late-stage protagonist could lift it with one hand.
No matter how I adjusted my posture or tried different grips, the result didn’t change.
The only thing I gained was certainty: I couldn’t lift it with my strength alone.
“If you’re certain it’s impossible, you don’t have to force yourself. Baek Hoyeon, if you want to give up, just say so.”
Physical strength alone wouldn’t cut it. It wasn’t surprising—I didn’t even have the kind of muscles that could pass for “strength.” Beasts were supposedly stronger than humans, but only because the weak among them had been culled through harsh natural selection.
Even someone as ignorant as me knew that much.
Mother had once mentioned that entire tribes of beastfolk would vanish in a single day, replaced by new ones.
Children who weren’t useful as labor were simply disposed of. If Father hadn’t founded the Empire, I might’ve met the same fate.
Thanks to the Empire’s establishment, I had survived, weak as I was. And because I survived, I discovered a unique talent.
“I’ll give it a try.”
The instructor’s gaze seemed to say, Let’s see what you’ve got.
Even as I spoke, doubts crept into my mind.
What if I failed spectacularly? What if I gave Georg another reason to dislike me? He already seemed irritated; handing him ammunition would be a disaster.
I couldn’t afford to fail. I had to succeed.
Steeling myself, I reached out with my mind, sending a message deep into the earth veins.
-Child of Onbyeolbi asks the master of this land: are you here?
No response came. I called out again, knowing some gods enjoyed ignoring mortals until mana had already been used, only to show up afterward and rebuke them.
-This is Baek Hoyeon, child of Onbyeolbi. I ask the master of this land: are you present?
-“Who disturbs my slumber? My faith has faded, and the earth veins have stilled. Do you call upon me to mock my feeble state, human?”
It took a long time for a meaningful response.
Clearly, this land’s gods were either dead or forgotten, as I’d suspected.
So they really did create fake gods and feed them stolen faith and mana.
It explained why I always felt uneasy near churches or hearing talk of divine mercy.
Those so-called “benevolent and righteous gods” were little more than thieves.
Now’s not the time for that.
-I am Hoyeon, child of Onbyeolbi. I ask for permission to use your mana. If I’ve disturbed your rest, I deeply apologize.
-“Child of Onbyeolbi… I have shown disrespect to an honored guest.”
He called Mother “Onbyeolbi.” Did he know her? I wanted to ask, but Georg’s piercing glare reminded me there wasn’t time for pleasantries.
To others, it probably looked like I was just standing there, eyes closed, doing nothing.
-Forgive my rudeness, but I must ask urgently. May I use your mana?
-“Mana, you say. I wish I could offer you all I have, but you’ve seen this land, have you not? The earth veins are sealed and polluted. With what little remains, I could perhaps split the ground—no more.”
-That will suffice. I don’t need much, only enough to lift what I’m holding.
The presence felt like an elderly man ashamed to admit he had nothing left to give.
My ability to gain a god’s favor was my one redeeming feature. Most shamans and priestesses had to perform extreme rituals to gain their attention. For me, it came naturally.
Still, being watched 24/7 by some divine entity wasn’t always pleasant. Even if their gaze was benevolent, it was suffocating for someone like me.
-Yes, that is all I need.
-“Unlike that other one, you speak with such grace. Perhaps it’s because you’re part human.”
“Baek Hoyeon, how long do you plan to stand there?” Georg’s impatient voice snapped me back.
-I humbly ask for your help.
-“So be it.”
***
Georg’s teaching philosophy was unwavering.
When it came to education, rank and status held no value. There was only the teacher and the student.
That was a principle he would never compromise, no matter who objected.
Of course, as a pure-blooded elf, he still saw himself as inherently superior, even if his late comrade—the hero—had scolded him for this arrogance.
From the moment Baek Hoyeon transferred in, she rubbed him the wrong way. A beastfolk student? It was enough to rattle his pride. But to hear that the Academy’s headmaster had personally ordered her special treatment, citing her potential danger? Outrageous.
So, watching Hoyeon stand there, eyes closed, not even trying to lift the kettlebell, only deepened his displeasure.
“Baek Hoyeon, when will you—?”
Before he could finish, an ominous energy filled the room. A malevolent aura he hadn’t felt since the Demon King’s defeat wrapped itself around Hoyeon.
Impossible. The Demon King hadn’t resurrected, and the seal was intact. Yet Georg recognized the energy immediately: magic of the highest order.
Without a word, Hoyeon gripped the kettlebell. The earth itself seemed to respond, lifting the heavy object with her until it reached her chest.
She turned to Georg and said calmly, “I’ve lifted it. May I leave now?”
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