It was the day for first-year students to register for their classes.
Because of that, there was no homeroom today, and the school allowed a later arrival time.
For most first-years, this was a chance to prepare for course registration without stress.
But for Cha Eun-sol, it simply meant more time to lie in bed and drift in and out of sleep.
“Mmmnya….”
She had absolutely no interest in registering for classes.
Pushed into the academy by her family’s relentless pressure, Eun-sol found nothing about academy life worth caring for.
Her class schedule could be a mess — she wouldn’t mind.
Her grades could hit rock bottom — it didn’t matter.
She could even fail to graduate — so be it.
If she were expelled, she’d actually be grateful.
There was nothing here for her to lose.
All she truly wanted was a few more minutes of sleep.
She ignored the shrill alarm and clung tighter to the giant banana plushie that was nearly bigger than she was.
Of course, the Circulating Branch, which had countless expectations for her, would never just let her be.
“Uuugh… Hello….”
[Hello, Eun-sol. Are you awake yet? It’s almost time to register for your classes…]
“…Just do it for me, unni.”
[Oh… Uh, sure. As planned, I’ll take care of it for you. You just keep resting, okay?]
“Okaaay….”
The Circulating Branch knew her too well.
They had foreseen this and already made arrangements — they had ordered a collateral family member in the second year to handle Eun-sol’s course registration on her behalf.
Refusing was impossible — not when the family’s command and future support hung in the balance.
[Your ID and password are the same ones you sent me yesterday, right?]
“Yeah….”
[Also, I might need to spend some coins to grab good classes, okay? I’ll be using the reward coins you earned during the entrance exam and some assigned by the family… Eun-sol?]
“….”
[Eun-sol, are you asleep?]
“Zzz…”
[…]
In the end, the Circulating Branch chose all her courses for her.
As the most esteemed among the Spirit Arts Clans, they knew precisely what a spirit mage like her should take.
So even as she slept, her schedule fell perfectly into place.
“Hello…”
[Eun-sol, it’s me. Just letting you know I finished registering you. Had to use a few coins, but fortunately, we got everything. All clear.]
“Mm-hm….”
[…Right. Make sure you attend your classes, and if you have time later, let’s grab a meal.]
“Fooood… Yes, sure….”
[Then, good luck with your academic life…]
“Zzz…”
[Ha… Shit…]
The line cut off with a dry beep.
Cha Eun-sol didn’t care one bit. She burrowed deeper into her blanket, clinging to sleep.
There was still time to rest.
And just as it had been since her first day here — she was late that day, too.
* * *
That morning’s lecture wasn’t held in the usual Academic Hall but in the Dimensional Hall instead.
It was obvious we’d be training inside an artificial gate.
Having finished my course registration without issue, I made my way to the Dimensional Hall in time.
I found the classroom I’d been assigned — and sure enough, the artificial gate was already humming to life.
A white gate, huh.
The lowest level — White Rank.
I stepped forward into the blinding pale light of the dimension.
When I came to my senses, I was standing on sand.
[You have entered the gate.]
[White: Swamp Desert I]
…A desert?
Even without the floating messages, I could tell from the dunes stretching to the horizon that I’d been summoned into a desert.
So what’s the plan here?
Fight monsters that inhabit the sands, maybe?
If that were the case, this wouldn’t be easy. The monsters here knew how to use the environment.
Especially the worm-type creatures that ambushed from beneath the sand — they were a nightmare for swordsmen like me.
I don’t sense anything yet…
I spread out my detection field beneath my feet.
Worm-types tended to burrow deep, making them hard to detect with mana alone.
Instead, you had to sense the vibrations in the sand.
Feeling for the tremors, I confirmed there were no monsters nearby.
[The mission objective is as follows:]
[Reach the gate.]
As expected, a White Gate wasn’t much of a threat.
Just from this objective, it was clear — there probably weren’t any monsters here at all.
First, I should regroup.
I could get the rest of the explanation from Hong Ye-na.
I traced the signatures of my classmates and made my way to the gathering point.
Before long, I found a cluster of students gathered together.
The red hair among them stood out immediately.
“Arin.”
“Oh, you made it!”
After exchanging a brief greeting with Min Arin, I looked for Hong Ye-na and Yu No-eul.
They were sitting off to the side on folding chairs, checking the time.
A moment later, they stood and approached us.
“Did everyone manage to register for their classes?”
“….”
“Did anyone get everything they wanted?”
Hong Ye-na looked around at our faces with a friendly smile, but no one spoke up.
Seeing this, she gave us a wry grin as if she’d expected it.
“Don’t look so crushed just because you couldn’t grab the perfect schedule. What’s done is done. You need to shake it off and look ahead. Missing a few classes won’t ruin your life. Cheer up. Next week’s change period might give you another chance.”
“She’s right, everyone. Just like Instructor Ye-na said — don’t get too down. Tomorrow’s a new day, after all!”
Hong Ye-na and Yu No-eul tried to lighten the mood, comforting the disappointed students.
I fully agreed.
Regretting what’s done is pointless — it’s better to focus on what’s ahead.
The past isn’t a place to dwell; it’s fuel to push you forward.
Life really is all about the coins.
No need to be discouraged.
There’s always another chance.
I quietly wished the students who’d failed to register well a brighter future.
Then, I felt Min Arin’s stare from beside me.
“What? Is there something on my face?”
“Your face says, ‘As long as it’s not me, I’m fine.’”
“That’s your guilty conscience talking. Don’t lump me in with you, okay?”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean? Are you insulting me right now?”
She might not have realized it herself, but I hadn’t missed how the corners of her lips twitched while the others were being consoled.
Knowing her, she was probably feeling smug about having gotten her classes.
She could deny it all she wanted — I wasn’t buying it.
Hong Ye-na stepped in before it got worse.
“Do-gyeon-woo. Min Arin. Are you two going to keep chatting? If you’d like to lose points, be my guest.”
“No, sorry. Won’t happen again.”
“S-sorry, Instructor….”
Min Arin, who cared deeply about her grades, shot me a glare but didn’t argue further.
Meanwhile, Hong Ye-na decided it was time to begin.
“Today’s lesson is to test your ability to channel mana through your body, right here in this desert. See the line over there?”
She pointed to one side, where a row of white bricks lay like a sidewalk in the middle of the sands.
It didn’t look like it came from the gate — probably her magic.
“That’s your starting line.”
“….”
“You’ll run from there to the hill with the gate — and back.”
She gestured again, and I saw the gate’s shimmering portal in the distance.
Eyeballing the distance, it had to be nearly three kilometers one way.
So about six kilometers round-trip.
Is that all?
As if reading my mind, Hong Ye-na spoke up.
“Of course, it’s not just a simple run. Do you think I’d have you, as academy students, run a distance that even regular people could manage? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“….”
“I told you — you’ll be using your mana. You’ll channel it throughout your entire body and maintain that state until you reach the gate. Sounds easy? Let me show you. Instructor No-eul?”
“Yes, Instructor.”
“Please demonstrate.”
“Okay~”
Yu No-eul, who’d been standing with her hands clasped behind her back, responded with her usual bright smile.
She obeyed without question.
“For this lesson, we’ll focus solely on the raw ability to manifest mana through your body. Since you’ll be moving a lot, wear something comfortable. Take off your shoes — you need your feet to touch the sand. No-eul?”
“Yes, Instructor. Take them off now?”
“Please.”
“Okay~”
Without hesitation, Yu No-eul undid the buttons of her black jacket and slipped it off.
Left wearing only her crisp white shirt on top, she tugged off her boots, then carefully reached beneath her skirt to roll down her stockings.
“Up we go…”
“….”
The stocking snagged around Yu No-eul’s thigh.
But she didn’t panic. Calmly, she rolled the sheer fabric down, freeing each leg in turn with practiced ease.
So she was wearing stockings all along…
Were they translucent? No, probably a light peach tone?
The world of women was a realm of strange and subtle illusions — sometimes, it felt like watching a magic trick.
I’d honestly thought her legs were bare, only to realize they never were.
And when the stockings peeled away, the color of the skin revealed underneath looked subtly different, enough to shock me.
So did that mean the legs I’d known weren’t even real?
What am I even saying?
Something… something was something. I couldn’t trust myself anymore.
The thought that what I’d believed could all have been a lie threw my mind into disarray.
I’d been deceived — all this time.
Though… it wasn’t like I minded that much either.
It was all so complicated.
Women are terrifying.
They say people fear the unknown — for me, that unknown was women themselves.
Women were mystery incarnate — and fear.
What if the legs I’ve seen on Ha-neul all this time… weren’t real either?
When had she started wearing them? Since middle school? Or even earlier?
Or do you say “wearing” or “putting on”?
If I kept this up, I’d drive myself mad with paranoia.
Better to ask her directly later.
Ha-neul, did you trick me, too?
Anyway.
Are those stockings disposable?
Watching Yu No-eul stuff the crumpled, stretched stockings into her boots, I found myself lost in curiosity.
It was something I’d wondered about even in my previous life.
From what I could tell, once used, they’d lose elasticity and hang limp like that. Could you really reuse them?
And if you could, how did you wash them?
But they sell them at convenience stores like disposable goods…
So were they meant to be thrown away after a single wear? No idea how much they cost, but that couldn’t be good for one’s wallet — or for the environment.
No matter which way you looked at it, it was a profound question.
And no amount of thinking would get me an answer.
I’ll just ask Ha-neul later.
Wasting any more brainpower was pointless.
I shut off the thought and focused back on the lesson.
By then, Yu No-eul was standing at the starting line, awaiting Hong Ye-na’s command.
“Everyone’s mana reserves are different. So I’ll let you decide how much mana you project externally. However, you must distribute it evenly across your entire body. No over-focusing on one spot — no neglecting others. Instructor No-eul?”
“Yes~ Everyone, watch closely.”
Yu No-eul began to manifest her mana.
A soft blue aura rose around her, swirling like gentle smoke before settling around her body in a perfectly even layer.
There was not a single strand of wasted energy — the projection was immaculate.
“You must maintain that state until you reach the gate. Do not run. Walk.”
“One, two, one, two, one…”
“….”
Yu No-eul stepped lightly onto the soft sand, each footfall leaving only the faintest imprint behind.
Keep your mana distributed like that while walking, huh…
It was going to require intense concentration.
Controlling the flow and balance of the mana output was critical.
It sounded simple enough at first, but I was starting to realize it wouldn’t be easy at all.
And yet… it felt a bit lax.
There are fifty of us. Can Witch Ye-na and Instructor No-eul really watch all of us at once?
Impossible.
No matter how exceptional Hong Ye-na was as a mage, she couldn’t monitor every student’s manifestation state in detail.
In the end, it would rely on each student’s integrity.
That was when she spoke again.
“You might think you’ll get away with it if your mana flow breaks midway, right? Unfortunately for you, this desert’s sand isn’t normal. Instructor No-eul, if you would.”
“Yees.”
“If your mana projection becomes unstable mid-way—”
“Eek! W-what is this? Guys, help Instructor~!”
“….”
“That’s what will happen.”
Yu No-eul, who had been gliding across the sand barefoot, suddenly sank as the ground beneath her gave way like a trap.
An antlion pit had appeared out of nowhere, swallowing her down.
We watched her arms flail as she sank deeper, speechless.
Yet none of us moved to save her.
It was obvious from Hong Ye-na’s unbothered tone — and No-eul’s total lack of tension — that this was just a demonstration.
Hong Ye-na addressed us again.
“As you can see, the sand here reacts to mana. It ignores faint mana that leaks naturally as you breathe, but it will respond to the mana cloaking your body. If your distribution wavers, the sand you step on will transform into a pit trap. So, I won’t need to watch every one of you.”
“….”
“You’ll repeat this until the end of today’s class. In the end, you should be able to reach the gate without making a single mistake. That’s my hope for you.”
She said it like it was no big deal.
But now that we knew what the sand was capable of, none of us could take it lightly.
It was going to take serious focus.
“So, hurry up and take off your shoes.”
* * *
Honestly, when I first heard the instructions, I didn’t think we needed to go barefoot.
The key was to manifest mana evenly throughout the body.
As long as you can maintain an even flow, shoes shouldn’t matter.
For any student at Geumgang Academy, that should be easy.
But Hong Ye-na continued her explanation.
“You tend to think of your feet in bulk, lumped together with your shoes. When you project your mana, you imagine it wrapping around your shoes instead of your feet. That’s why you hit a limit in how finely you can control it. Has anyone here ever really studied their feet?”
“….”
“None of you, I see. You might not know this, but the feet, which make up only two percent of your body, are designed to support the other ninety-eight percent. Doesn’t it seem a waste to just lump them together as ‘shoes’? Don’t you feel a little sorry for them?”
“….”
“This is the fundamental reason I want you barefoot. So you can truly become aware of your own feet. Don’t just project mana vaguely — pay attention to each toe. Refine your control. The same goes for your fingers. I won’t ask you to track every strand of hair on your head, but try to be aware of as much as you can.”
Magic was an art of persuading the world’s laws with mana and imagination.
It was about convincing the will of the world that something impossible could exist — and manifesting it.
So the more persuasive the mage’s ‘imagination’ was, the more complete the spell would be.
It made sense that someone like her — the famed Witch of Seven Colors — would stress the importance of precision.
“Also, the soles of your feet have as many nerve endings as your palms. Feeling the texture of the sand under your bare feet will help you balance your mana flow.”
With that final point, no one dared question her anymore.
The students began to nod in understanding and reluctantly slipped off their boots.
I, too, accepted her reasoning and stepped barefoot onto the warm desert sand.
I set my boots aside, socks tucked in, and made for the starting line.
That was when Min Arin called out to me.
She still had her boots on.
“Hey, Do-gyeon-woo.”
“What? Not taking yours off?”
“How are we supposed to when you guys might peek?”
“Oh.”
Min Arin scoffed.
Only then did I notice — only the boys had taken off their boots so far.
The girls were clustered behind Arin, standing awkwardly like she was their unofficial spokesperson.
Well, that figures.
She was our class rep.
It made sense that the girls would look to her, and that I, as vice rep, would be the stand-in for the boys.
“I want you to tell the guys to turn around so we can take off our shoes in peace.”
“Got it.”
It wasn’t a hard ask.
I told the guys around me to turn their backs.
No one in the Sword Clan would dare argue with me.
A few seemed disappointed, but they all obeyed.
“Watch them for me. Don’t let them turn around until I say so.”
“Alright, alright.”
“If anyone peeks… I’ll kill them.”
“No one’s peeking. Just hurry up.”
I turned my back as well.
I couldn’t help feeling like Min Arin’s gaze was drilling into my back.
Rustle.
From behind came the sound of clothes shifting.
Now and then, I caught snippets of the girls’ murmured conversation.
“Ugh, I’ll have to take off my under-shorts too, then put them back on. Such a hassle…”
“Should we just stay in our shorts? Do we even need our skirts?”
“Hey! The guys are still here, you know!”
“Ugh… It feels so breezy now.”
“I actually like it — the air feels nice.”
“Oh my god. Look at you. Didn’t know you were this bold…”
“What? I just like how it looks, okay? It’s cute.”
“….”
…How long was this going to take?
Resolving not to get dragged into their chatter, I stared out across the desert horizon with the other guys.I feel like a cactus right now.
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