Do-gyeon-woo of the Singeom School.
Rumours about him abounded, yet none had ever been verified. He was too young to venture out into the world, so until now he had confined his activities solely within the Singeom School, never engaging in any external pursuits.
In many cases, rumours follow a certain consistent thread, allowing one to grasp an underlying essence. However, the whispers surrounding Do-gyeon-woo were so contradictory that his true nature remained completely elusive.
“Who might he be? He seems rather close to the disciple of the Seven-Colored Witch.”
“Ah, could it be that child? The one who’s known the Seven-Colored Witch’s disciple since childhood. So….”
“You mean the kid from the Singeom School? His name is….”
“Examinee number 1532… they say he’s Do-gyeon-woo.”
“So he’s one of the Singeom School’s students.”
“Then perhaps that child is the one? The prodigy of the Singeom School….”
“No, that’s someone else. I believe his name was Do-seung-woo… Oh, examinee number 2368.”
“And what color is his exam card?”
“Blue.”
“Then what about that child’s exam card?”
“As you can see… it’s black.”
“If someone is hailed as a prodigy at the Singeom School, isn’t it implied that he is among the most talented of his generation? Yet it seems that Do-gyeon-woo’s scores even surpass those of the so-called prodigy.”
“Well… that’s possible, isn’t it? A child once recognized as a prodigy might later lag behind, and we typically reserve the title for someone who, through relentless effort, makes extraordinary progress. Add natural talent to that, and one becomes a genius. Being called a prodigy isn’t inherently special.”
“Moreover, even those with merely competent skills—and no distinct characteristics—are sometimes labelled as prodigies. It appears examinee 2368 was one such case.”
“If he truly possessed exceptional talent, he would have earned a distinctive nickname—like ‘Lightning Blossom,’ as did Do-si-eun from the same family.”
“Enough about prodigies. Then what do they call the examinee with the black exam card?”
“Rabbit.”
“Lion cub.”
“Are you cursing at me right now?”
“Not at all! At the Singeom School, they call that child ‘lion cub.’”
“What are you saying? It’s ‘rabbit,’ isn’t it?”
“I said ‘lion cub’!”
“…So, which is it then?”
“Rabbit.”
“Lion cub.”
“…”
Just as the instructors’ responses diverged, some insisted on calling Do-gyeon-woo “Rabbit,” accusing him of cowardice for lagging behind in the Singeom School’s competitions, while others dismissed those claims—insisting he had earned the title “lion cub” through the headmaster’s recognition. Still others argued that the nickname was derogatory, while yet another faction contended it was a term of praise.
Thus…
“Rabbit, I say!”
“Lion cub, I say!”
“Lion cub, you mean! ‘Lion cub’ sounds almost like an insult.”
“I heard through my connections that the headmaster of the Singeom School actually called him ‘lion cub.’”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
The rumours about Do-gyeon-woo were so extreme and chaotic that they naturally splintered into conflicting accounts. In the end, none of the instructors present had any concrete knowledge of his true talents or abilities.
“It seems he’s about to open the gate now.”
“….”
Eager to unearth the truth behind the swirling rumours, the instructors fixed their eyes on Do-gyeon-woo. They believed that by testing him in the challenge of opening the iron gate, they might uncover even a fragment of the truth. They were utterly convinced.
Moments later, one of them observed, “…He’s managed to open up to the fourth panel.”
“Indeed. At this rate, it’s quite impressive. Even Yong-hae-rang of Ui-hyeop School managed only to open up to the fourth panel, and the Singeom School is renowned for its swordsmanship.”
“It would be advantageous to possess a high internal mana reserve, but since the Singeom School is famed for its sword techniques, they typically don’t employ methods that drain mana excessively…”
“His fundamentals are solid. His muscles respond well—it’s clear he hasn’t neglected his training.”
Without a sign of strain, Do-gyeon-woo swung open the fourth iron gate. The instructors, having caught a glimpse of his skill, offered no negative remarks.
Then, without warning, a low, rumbling sound echoed:
[Kukugugu…]
The iron gate, which had appeared immovable until then, suddenly began to tremble. Startled, the instructors, who had been glancing at the other examinees, couldn’t take their eyes off Do-gyeon-woo.
“Now… what am I witnessing?” one murmured.
“…Did it move?”
They hadn’t imagined things—the entire set of iron gates was in motion. Their eyes widened in astonishment.
“How is that even possible?”
“Could it be because his internal mana is so abundant?”
“No, that can’t be. If it were merely an abundance of mana, the fifth iron gate would have reacted from the start.”
“Then what on earth…?”
The fifth iron gate was designed to open only when bolstered by a sufficient amount of internal mana. Faced with its defiant movement, the instructors were rendered speechless—this was beyond their understanding.
Consequently, their gazes naturally turned to Hong Ye-na, the Seven-Colored Witch. They assumed she might know something about her disciple’s childhood friend.
“How is that possible?” one demanded.
“Instructor Hong Ye-na, don’t you know anything about that child? After all, aren’t you close to your disciple?”
“Now that I think about it, I seem to have heard that you once taught magic to Do-gyeon-woo…”
The questioning became even more persistent. Standing quietly in a corner—she wasn’t even responsible for managing the exam—Hong Ye-na could not hide her discomfort. Her expression was in stark contrast to when she had spoken of Yeon-ha-neul.
“I’m not particularly close to my disciple’s childhood friend, so I don’t know much about him. I only taught him a little magic, after all.”
Hong Ye-na tried to feign ignorance. She wished to avoid any entanglement with him, yet the instructors’ eyes remained fixed on her, silently demanding an explanation.
Sigh, it seems I have no choice, she thought.
Eventually, she could no longer withstand their scrutiny and offered her interpretation. “I believe I understand how the fifth iron gate was opened,” she began.
“And what is the reason?” came the query.
“Did you notice the sparks that flew a moment ago? They were caused by conflicting mana—each with a rebellious nature clashing against the other.”
“Now that you mention it, I did see something. But why would they conflict? There shouldn’t have been any conflicting element there.”
“I happened to teach him for a while, so I know that his mana has a strong affinity for the light element.”
“Is it alright to say that out loud?”
“It’s not classified information.”
“True enough. Please, continue.”
“Very well. Moreover, my disciple has an affinity for the dark element. It appears that when Yeon-ha-neul released a dense surge of internal mana earlier, its residue merged with the atmosphere instead of dissipating. That lingering energy clashed with his light affinity, generating the explosion that provided additional impetus to the mechanism.”
“So that’s why they conflicted? But how does that relate to the opening of the fifth iron gate?”
“From here on, this is merely my conjecture…”
Hong Ye-na deliberately hesitated, carefully choosing which details to divulge and which to withhold. If I’m not careful, Yeon-ha-neul might be dragged into this because of Do-gyeon-woo, she mused.
Opening the fifth iron gate requires reaching a certain threshold of internal mana. The fact that it opened suggests either that the required threshold was lowered or that Do-gyeon-woo’s internal mana surged dramatically in a short time. Given how difficult it is to rapidly increase one’s internal mana, the latter is highly unlikely. Thus, the threshold must have been lowered—which implies…
Perhaps Yeon-ha-neul’s internal mana inadvertently triggered a malfunction in the gate.
That possibility could not be ignored. In the worst case, it might cast suspicion of cheating on both Yeon-ha-neul and Do-gyeon-woo. Of course, they wouldn’t resort to such deceit. Yet proving their innocence would be a cumbersome ordeal, and any misunderstanding could tarnish the reputation of a promising young talent.
Reluctantly, though she wasn’t particularly inclined to defend Do-gyeon-woo, Hong Ye-na knew she had to dispel the instructors’ doubts to protect Yeon-ha-neul.
“Hmm, I see…”
“There’s some sense to it.”
“A collision of light and darkness… chaos, pure chaos… Are you planning to turn this into a thesis? Or perhaps I should research it myself…”
“Light within darkness, darkness within light…”
“Luminous.”
“As they say, the brightest light is destined to reside in the darkest place…”
A few of the instructors murmured in agreement as if a sudden insight had struck them. Yet others, while nodding in acknowledgement, began to question the examination’s integrity.
“In an exam meant solely to measure raw mana, is it acceptable to incorporate external factors? Doesn’t that break the rules?”
“After all, the test simply required pushing open an iron gate by hand. Surely, it’s a stretch to claim the rules were broken—this kid wasn’t doping, after all. In a way, it’s simply a demonstration of skill.”
Though she was merely an observer, Hong Ye-na immediately objected. Soon, the instructors began to take sides, and a debate erupted among them.
“Enough about that.”
“…”
At that moment, the Chief Supervisor spoke up, and the instructors fell silent, awaiting his verdict.
“As Instructor Hong Ye-na explained, it’s hard to say the examinee broke any rules. But before drawing any conclusions, shouldn’t we first check whether there’s something amiss with the iron gate?” he asked in a grave tone.
Upon hearing his judgment, Hong Ye-na felt a surge of tension.
“Someone, please go and inspect the gate.”
“I’ll do it,” came the reply from one of the instructors.
The results came swiftly.
[The iron gate is functioning normally.]
“Is that so…”
When the instructor who had gone to inspect the gate relayed his findings via the screen, Hong Ye-na finally relaxed. Yet, in her mind, a question persisted:
If the gate wasn’t malfunctioning, then how on earth did it open?
Could it be that his internal mana—or even his mana efficiency or density—suddenly surged enough to force it open? It defied belief. There was no unshackling of mental limits leading to superhuman strength. Could it be…?
That he willingly threw his body into danger, trusting that such a risk would pay off?
“Really…”
She clicked her tongue as she watched Do-gyeon-woo. “Isn’t that kid completely off his rocker?”
Even after knowing him for five years, she still couldn’t fathom his behaviour. Dealing with Do-gyeon-woo made her feel prematurely aged. She longed for a peaceful life—a life where she could perhaps retire from instructing and travel instead.
Beyond the iron gate, there was nothing but a wall.
When I turned from that wall, I was met by countless gazes.
I can understand why Yeon-ha-neul would feel this way, I thought.
“…”
From the other side of the gate, everyone seemed to be staring at me as if it were some prearranged promise. Their silent, wide-eyed looks made me deeply uncomfortable.
“Could you stop staring already?”
Perhaps it was just my imagination, but it felt as though even more eyes were on me than on Yeon-ha-neul.
“…”
I quickly decided to leave the area beyond the gate. If I stayed in the exam hall any longer, those piercing stares wouldn’t let up. To escape them, I needed to secure a passing grade from the evaluator.
“Evaluator.”
“Ah… yes, examinee.”
“Did I pass?”
“…I almost forgot. Examinee number 1532—five panels, pass. But are you sure you’re alright? You got caught up in that explosion earlier…”
“As you can see, I’m completely fine.”
“Still, if you feel any discomfort, please visit the infirmary for treatment.”
“Yes, thank you.”
I knew my body well; I wasn’t injured. My clothes bore only the faint traces of the explosion—easily erased by a simple cleansing spell.
After bowing respectfully to the evaluator, I made my way over to Yeon-ha-neul. She was immediately concerned.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt? Do you have any injuries? I was so scared earlier—if the gate hadn’t opened, you might have been in serious trouble! And if you’d caused a mana overload… what would you do?”
“I never intended to push myself that far. I was confident I could handle it. Besides, if I had stopped at the fourth panel, I wouldn’t have managed the fifth, would I?”
“Still, wasn’t it enough to just open up to the fourth panel to pass?”
“Perhaps. But if I don’t open more panels, the coins I receive after enrolment might be fewer.”
“Oh dear, how much of a difference could that make?”
At Geumgang Academy—and indeed, nearly every academy in the Academic City—the currency known as “coins” was indispensable. At Geumgang Academy, for instance, coins could be used to purchase items and services, book facilities, or even gain priority during course registrations.
One should accumulate as many coins as possible whenever the chance arose. After all, when else would coins be so readily available? This had long been my motivation to aim for the highest scores possible upon admission.
“Yeon-ha-neul, think about it.”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Imagine: after you open the fifth gate, if I only manage to open up to the fourth, won’t people say, ‘Do-gyeon-woo managed four panels, but he still isn’t as good as Yeon-ha-neul?’”
“Are you saying you took a dangerous risk just to avoid being looked down upon?”
“Exactly.”
“…”
Yeon-ha-neul understood perfectly. I nodded in satisfaction, but then her eyes darkened.
“You’re usually so confident, yet you have this almost childlike side about you. Is it that you enjoy the attention when people look at you?”
“Better than being underestimated, I suppose.”
“Oh dear…”
Although Yeon-ha-neul seemed incredulous, this was a matter of grave importance to me. I couldn’t simply let them refer to us as “lion cub” or “kid lion” with ambiguous intent—whether as an insult or praise. I had to put an end to it.
So, when the opportunity presented itself, I seized it.
“Anyway, we passed the first exam. Let’s find somewhere to relax until the second exam starts.”
“Sounds good. I’ve been itching to get out of here, too.”
There was no longer any reason to linger in that place. I took Yeon-ha-neul by the arm and we headed out of the exam hall.
Just then, a familiar shout rang out:
“Do-gyeon-woo! Gyeon-woo!”
“…”
Why was he calling me? Amid the distant crowd, Yong-hae-rang was making his way toward me, his eyes blazing with intensity—a sight that filled me with a premonition of trouble.
“I thoroughly enjoyed watching you take the exam! Your childhood friend is charming, but you… you’re even more impressive, aren’t you—huh?”
“Yeon-ha-neul, run!”
“See? You’re just as uneasy!”
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going? How about joining me for a meal so we can talk this through?!”
I couldn’t bear to listen any longer. Before Yong-hae-rang could catch up, I quickly left the exam hall with Yeon-ha-neul in tow.
“The second exam is scheduled for 2 PM. Until then, you may rest freely and then report to the designated area.”
“Where should we go?”
“All examinees who passed this exam should proceed to Room 105 of the Dimensional Hall. We’ll be taking the exam at the Artificial Gate, so please make sure to wear these in advance.”
“Understood.”
A proctor waiting outside the exam hall briefed us on the second practical exam. We thanked him and gathered the items distributed by the other assistants. These included lunch provided by Geumgang Academy and the artefacts required for the gate—specifically, the Gate Watch and Screen Choker.
We already knew how to operate these artefacts, having used them frequently during evaluation matches at the Singeom School. After confirming that the artefacts were functioning properly, we turned on our heels and departed.
“Where should we eat?”
“Hmm… is there somewhere quiet and secluded enough for lunch? By the way, where are the triplets?”
“They said they’d eat first and meet us at the second exam room.”
“Guess they didn’t want to deal with the shuttle for drinks, so they bolted.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I’m craving my strawberry milk…”
“If we see a vending machine or a small shop along the way, let’s grab something.”
“Okay!”
“Hey, there’s a vending machine over there.”
A simple lunch of a lunchbox and water just wouldn’t suffice. Yeon-ha-neul and I stopped at the vending machine along our route, grabbed some drinks, and then found a suitable spot—a bench that was fortunately unoccupied—to sit down and eat.
After the first practical exam, every available seat was already claimed by examinees, making it nearly impossible to find a spot. Fortunately, one seat remained vacant. We dashed over and quickly settled in, determined not to let anyone else snatch it away.
“Wow, it’s so beautiful,” one whispered.
“Absolutely,” came the quiet agreement.
Our eyes were drawn to a stunning lakeside view—the perfect spot. As we sat on the bench, we absorbed the serene panorama of the lake, silently admiring its vastness.
Truly, it’s remarkable.
To think there were two such expansive lakes right here on the academy grounds reminded me just how immense Geumgang Academy truly was. I couldn’t help but let out a wry smile.
“Now that we’re hungry, let’s have some lunch,” I suggested.
“Here’s yours, and these are your chopsticks,” my friend said, handing me the utensils.
“Thanks. Oh no, I forgot my tissue,” I remarked.
“Don’t worry, mine’s in my bag,” came the reassuring reply.
We eagerly unwrapped our lunchboxes. Despite the passage of time since they were prepared, the preservation spell ensured they still exuded a comforting warmth.
“Wow, there’s so much meat!” one exclaimed.
“You only go for the meat, don’t you?” the other teased.
“Of course—meat is the foundation of any satisfying meal,” came the playful retort.
“Hmm… I suppose you’re right,” was the reluctant concession.
Our meal was hearty and well-balanced, leaving us sufficiently nourished to tackle the second exam without needing any extra snacks. We enjoyed our lunch thoroughly, discussing how delicious it was and comparing our portions.
“Want some of mine?” I offered when my friend hesitated to try my share.
“Not really—you need your strength too,” came the gentle reply.
“But if you do want it, just let me know. Oh, I also brought some jelly!”
“Save that for after lunch,” was the practical suggestion.
Nearby, a vending machine caught our attention.
“Hey, that strawberry milk looks good,” one of us remarked.
“Wait, do you actually mix milk with lunch?” came the playful question.
“Not exactly—it’s meant to be sipped in a bite-sized gulp,” the explanation followed.
“Strawberry milk isn’t exactly a snack, is it?”
“Then what is it?”
“…Meat?”
“Call it carrot instead.”
“Actually, it’s a carrot—my staple food,” my friend confessed with a laugh.
As we savoured both the view and our meal, our eyes and taste buds were equally delighted. Even after finishing lunch, we remained seated on the bench, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere until the start of the second exam drew near.
“Time to gear up with the artefacts,” I finally said, retrieving the Gate Watch and Screen Choker provided by one of the proctors. I quickly donned mine without issue. However, Yeon-ha-neul encountered a bit of trouble. Although she managed to secure the Gate Watch on her wrist, she repeatedly struggled to fasten the Screen Choker around her neck.
Frowning, Yeon-ha-neul muttered, “Ugh… it keeps catching on my hair, and I have to redo it every time.”
Unable to let her struggle alone, I stepped in.
“Let me help you. Hand it over, and I’ll put it on for you,” I offered.
“Ah… then please, I’d appreciate that,” she replied.
“Lift your hair up for me,” I instructed.
“Not my hair—well, my… my lock,” she corrected hesitantly.
Taking the Screen Choker from her, I gently gathered her long hair with both hands, lifting it so that the nape of her neck was visible. Standing behind her, I couldn’t help but notice the fine, soft hairs along her neck—a detail that strangely captivated my attention.
“Hey, what are you doing? Not going to finish?” she teased.
“Oh, right,” I chuckled, snapping back to the task at hand.
“…What are you thinking now?” she asked, slightly bemused.
“Just thinking about the upcoming exam,” I replied evasively.
“Don’t lie—I know you were thinking something odd,” she prodded.
“Honestly? I just find your neckline beautiful,” I admitted softly.
“…,” she fell silent.
“Hold still; I’m fastening the choker now,” I said as I carefully fastened it around her neck.
“Is it the right length? Not too tight?” I asked, checking the fit.
“It’s a bit snug,” she murmured, then, “But it feels just right now. Thank you.”
“This choker reminds me of when I fastened Mong-sil’s leash for her, though I might have tightened it a bit too much then… I feel a pang of guilt.”
“Hey, don’t go on about leashes—it makes me feel weird,” she objected with a small laugh.
“If Mong-sil had said anything, I’m sure she’d have agreed that sometimes you just have to tighten it a bit,” I replied teasingly.
“Stop joking, or I’m really going to get mad,” she warned.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But seriously, gather your mana—I’m sorry for the hassle,” I said, easing my hands away as she began to manifest her internal mana, causing her hair to stand on end.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” she teased.
“Maybe you should try fastening my choker instead,” I countered with a grin.
“What? Hmmm… not a bad idea,” she laughed.
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes—just do it your way. Turn around,” she instructed, stepping aside.
“Alright, I’ll do it—tight enough so you can’t breathe or even think about teasing me again,” I declared playfully.
“…Are you saying you want me to suffocate?” she joked back.
“Maybe I should, if it means you’d behave,” I quipped.
“Ah, you’re too much… it’s so tight now,” she complained.
“Come on, follow my lead. Beautiful, cute, and lovable Yeon-ha-neul,” I cooed.
“If you say that, I’m not embarrassed at all!” she replied with a grin.
“Beautiful, cute, and lovable Yeon-ha-neul,” I repeated, emphasising every word.
“Beautiful, cute, and—” she began, but her words trailed off as she fought back a blush.
“That’s enough teasing. I hope my instincts kick in soon,” she added.
“I hope so too,” I murmured.
After spending a while by the lake, we eventually left to take the second practical exam.
[You have entered the Gate.]
[Gray: Misty Mountain, Deungjeong-ro III]
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