The habit of waking up at the same hour every day is hard to lose. Today, even the sun will rise after me. I do a few stretches and muscle exercises to loosen my body before taking a good shower and having a nutritious breakfast.

My mind must stay clear to absorb as much knowledge as possible. Today, I'll spend almost the entire day in the library until the afternoon, when the match with the teacher assigned by Susan will take place. I have to wait until they all finish their responsibilities.

"Gigantic." That's the only way I can describe the library before me—it looks more like a cathedral or a castle from my old world. I can't help but feel a slight headache thinking about how many hours or days I'll spend here looking for the information needed to recreate the potions left by the First Marquis Timal.

As I walk through the massive doors, I see a reception desk. An elderly man with white hair is quietly reading a book. He raises his gaze, slightly surprised by my presence. I approach to ask about the type of books I'm searching for.

I read the tag on his chest—his name is "Sye." His eyes judge me with every glance, filled with deep knowledge. If I had to bet, I'd say this old man has dedicated most of his life to reading. "Good morning, Mr. Sye. I'm looking for books related to botany."

"It's rare to see a young person in the library this early in the morning." I turn around to check—indeed, there's no one else here. "The botany books are in Room 5, on the fourth floor." He lowers his gaze back to his book after giving me one last quick look.

"Thank you." I nod and head upstairs. The librarian doesn't seem like a bad person—just a bit grumpy.

While climbing the stairs, I see many signs marking the sections on each floor: Introduction to Magic, Improving Imra, Sword Mastery, and more. Hundreds of different rooms filled with books, each guarding secrets waiting to be discovered.

I reach the room labeled "Botany." Out of curiosity, I read the index and find something surprising—there are four other rooms related to plants and flowers. I could probably find even more subdivisions. As I keep reading, it becomes clearer: this room holds the general information, while others contain fewer, more specialized books.

"Why is this so massive?" I sigh in frustration, seeing the endless shelves and sheer number of books. To my left, there's a small shelf with ten identical tomes—huge ones, at least 70 centimeters tall, 40 wide, and 30 thick. Each has the same title: Plants of the Continent.

I grab one heavy volume and sit at the nearest table. The description reads: "This book contains a brief summary of all known plants in history. It is periodically updated whenever new specimens are described." The beginning is in alphabetical order, then it continues with new additions in order of discovery.

"In this book, I'll definitely find what I'm looking for." Each entry includes details like uses, habitat, properties, and alternate names. The only problem is—I have no idea how many days or weeks it'll take to find what I need. "Better start as soon as possible." Since I can't train while my cube is healing, I might as well make the most of my time here.

"So boring…" I don't hate reading—I'd even call myself a fan of good books. The problem is spending hours reading about plants I don't care about. It's been six hours already and one bottle of coffee gone just to stay awake. The only fun part is using my Imra.

I'm lying back in a comfortable chair, holding the book in the air with my Imra like invisible arms. I even use it to turn pages. It's a good way to refine delicate control. Since my Imra now has more weight and texture, it's becoming useful for daily tasks—it just needs gradual improvement.

Hours keep passing, and I've found… absolutely nothing! Not a single useful lead, no herb with even a similar name. After a short lunch and rest, I return to reading and learn one valuable thing: reading uninteresting material is incredibly boring—but my desire to make money is stronger.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"It's time to go." There's still an hour before the match, so I'll warm up a bit first. I don't want to make the mistake of entering with tight muscles and a cold body. When I arrive at the small arena where the match will take place, I find the secretary, Clari, at the reception. We greet each other before I continue on.

The arena is quite small compared to the others. Only a limited number of teachers and guests will attend—the director prefers the best view from up close. Standing in the middle of the field, I start moving my Thundersnow Fangs as extensions of my body. I picture myself sparring with Gase to warm up, moving as if I were reacting to his attacks.

When I finish, I notice Clari watching me. She's been standing there for nearly ten minutes without moving. "Clari." My voice makes her jump slightly. "Do you think I have any chance of winning?" She's ruby rank, so she must know the teacher and has just seen me train—she should have a good sense of things.

She brings a pen to her lips and thinks for a few seconds. "No idea." Her answer leaves me speechless—but she continues. "You're very skilled, that's undeniable. No, actually—you're a genius with swords from what I've seen. However, fighting someone isn't just about skill. You already know what I mean." I nod softly. I really do.

"At least I made a good impression then." I store my swords and take out a bottle of water.

"Yes. If I had to bet, I'd say… you have a fifty percent chance of winning." Fifty? That's pretty good. The real number must be higher since I haven't shown her everything.

"Thanks. That gives me a bit more confidence." I sit beside her to wait for the guests. Slowly, more teachers arrive. Most greet us politely, though some give me curious looks. Others are less courteous—they try to probe me silently with their Imra after greeting. When I push them back immediately, they just walk away as if nothing happened.

I don't sense any malice—only curiosity. That's the only reason I let it slide. Finally, Susan arrives, followed by her daughter and Shawu.

"How's the star boy?" Areci grabs me by the neck like a little brother. "You don't look nervous. Are you that confident?" She hugs me tightly before letting go.

"If his swordsmanship is as good as his sensory ability, that confidence makes sense." Shawu raises her hand, and we clap our palms together in greeting. "I haven't forgotten our training—you promised to help me. I hope you keep your word soon." She tries to hit me with her Imra, and I block it.

"How have you both been? You look great." I'm honestly not nervous. I don't have much to lose, and I can't picture myself being defeated. "In a few weeks, I'll help both of you train—and you too, Areci, don't look at me like that." Areci nearly pierces me with her glare when I only mentioned her best friend first.

"Grandma." I wink at the Obsidian-ranked mage.

"Maki. Ready to show everyone why you're my protégé?" Her voice is louder than usual—I'm sure she did it so everyone around could hear.

"Of course. I'm always ready." My answer makes her laugh. I won't betray her expectations. She started this game loud—I won't stay quiet.

Point of View: ???

When I heard about a duel against someone chosen by the director to become a substitute instructor, I was excited. Being a teacher at this prestigious academy is an honor, and the requirements are extremely high—especially when the recommendation comes directly from Her Eminence Susan.

My excitement dropped the moment Miss Clari told me the details: an adolescent, a first-year student, and a newly ascended sapphire rank. I'm ruby rank—this can't possibly be a fair match. Clari continued explaining the rules: only body strengthening allowed, and pure swordsmanship combat.

My mentor recommended me because I'm the best in the school at weapon mastery. I've been wielding a sword for over fifteen years, gathering experience and knowledge from countless masters and real battles. My sword and I have been one—through dungeons and tournaments alike.

Honestly, I felt a bit insulted when I learned my opponent's identity. I only accepted because the request came directly from both my mentor and Director Susan. Otherwise, I would've declined.

I couldn't help noticing the boy sitting next to Clari, waiting for everyone. He didn't even glance at me twice after greeting. He hasn't bothered to ask who his opponent is or about my skills.

Now he's chatting with the director, Areci, and Shawu as if they were lifelong friends. My jaw dropped when I heard the director call him "My protégé." To earn that title, one must transcend normal limits. The irritation of fighting him faded—until I heard him say, "I'm always ready," as if this match were nothing more than a casual stroll in the park.

I don't hate him—quite the opposite. I respect him for earning the title of protégé under an Obsidian-rank mage at such a young age. That alone proves his talent. Still… I'll teach him a little lesson in manners—and show him how vast the world truly is.

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