'Let's do it.'
Steeling his resolve, he clenched his fist tight.
A domineering energy surged through his body, veins bulging wildly over the muscles of Do-yoon's arm.
While Do-yoon focused his mind, the cadets went up one by one for their mana tests.
Thud.
"Next!"
Thwack!
"Next!"
Smack.
"Next!"
A variety of impact sounds echoed out. But most were lackluster, and only a few could truly be called proper strikes.
'No, no... not it.'
The archery instructor focused intently each time he channeled mana, searching for the Boss Monster Killer.
But then.
'...Huh?'
A female cadet appeared who shattered the archery instructor's focus—no, stole the gaze of every man in the arena.
'Whoa...'
'H-hips... damn...'
'That ass, fuck... I'm done for, seriously.'
From her slender waist without a hint of excess fat, her hips exploded outward.
Her buttocks looked like they'd jiggle with perfect bounce if smacked—boasting an elasticity that was obvious just from looking.
Beneath them, her firm thighs tapered down smoothly. They weren't overly fleshy to look ugly, nor were the muscles too prominent to diminish her femininity.
Thick yet sleek, brimming with healthy allure and radiating raw sex appeal—they were thighs that no one could dislike.
"...What's her name?"
"Sophie. Word's already spread in our class. The girls nicknamed her 'Crazy Ass Bitch.'"
"Your class? Lucky bastards..."
But in stark contrast to her lewd body and vulgar nickname, Sophie's face was innocently round and pure.
The kind of impression that seemed hesitant to refuse any request.
It should have stirred men's protective instincts, but thanks to that sinful figure, it only ignited base lust and conquest desires.
Like ripples on water, a commotion spread from where the male cadets clustered.
"Quiet! Shut it!"
"You little shits... pipe down!? This ain't a playground!"
The female instructors were the ones quelling the uproar. The male instructors were just as entranced by her as the cadets.
Unlike her boldly assertive lower body, she shuffled out timidly like a frightened rabbit—a sight that only fueled the watching men's sadistic urges.
As excessive attention poured from the guys, sharp glares flew from the female cadets.
"Ugh, attention whore... look at her playing innocent."
"Ha, crazy bitch? Why's she the only one strutting out in leggings?"
Of course, what Sophie wore wasn't leggings—it was the standard Cradle uniform, same as the others.
"Huh? She's got a horn on her forehead?"
"No horns in your class? We've got like three. With cadets from so many dimensions, that's barely noteworthy."
"Nah, but why's hers wrapped in cloth?"
"Huh? Yeah, it is."
"Check her eyes! First time seeing pink pupils. Like jewels..."
"Less jewel-like, more... uh... kinda weird..."
There were other unique traits too, but they were overshadowed by her lower body and beauty, drawing little notice.
"Hoo..."
Sophie took a deep breath from nerves, biting a hair tie in her mouth. She raised both hands to tie up her hair.
Her snowy-white nape emerged from beneath her long, straight silver hair. With deft motions, she tied a neat ponytail.
Her quiet, bookish librarian vibe flipped into that of a surprisingly athletic girl with a track hobby.
"Um..."
"...Yeah?"
The archery instructor, who'd been peeking at her armpit as pale as her nape from under her sleeve, snapped to at her voice.
"You need to channel the mana..."
"R-right! Yeah, yeah."
Sophie turned her back and stood ready. Oblivious to his gaze locked on her ass, the instructor placed his hand on her back.
The skin under his palm felt incredible too. Her smooth back was soft in that feminine way despite no excess fat... it sent a tingle straight to his groin.
But an unexpected sensation pulled him back.
'Huh? Oh... well, I'll be?'
Almost no mana bounced off into the air. It flowed smoothly into her channels without a hitch.
Purely on mana affinity talent, she was prime material—good enough for a top guild like World Tree.
"Hoo..."
Sophie took another deep breath in front of the steel plate, now infused with mana.
She hopped lightly in place. Effortless motion.
'Not fists—leg technique?'
A clear kicking stance. The watching test instructor's eyes gleamed.
"Begin."
The instructor's command dropped.
"Yeah!"
With a cute little kiai, Sophie spun and unleashed her powerful leg.
A kick packed with force yet razor-sharp. To cadets who couldn't track her leg visually, its blurred outline looked like an awl.
Krunch!
"Oh...!"
A flawless roundhouse kick.
The most vicious impact sound yet drew gasps of admiration from some.
Despite her taut, contracting ass and sleek, extended thigh, the motion was so beautiful no one could think lewd thoughts.
Sophie withdrew her leg. The plate bore an imprint of her shoe sole, plus two massive cracks spiderwebbing from edge to edge.
The mark glowed vivid red—the biggest color change so far, radiating out to cover half the plate.
"Excellent."
At the instructor's praise, Sophie bowed shyly. An innocently pure reaction that clashed adorably with her prior display.
Hand to her chest, she sighed in relief, cheeks faintly flushed, then trotted back to her spot.
Do-yoon watched her and nodded.
'Nice.'
Sophie's form was outstanding. Even Do-yoon's eyes—seasoned over a century watching geniuses—were satisfied. A talent worth coveting.
If not for him, she'd likely claim top spot among this cohort at the Cradle.
'If only she'd trained a bit under Hecleus... she could've been a masterpiece.'
A pointless what-if, but regrettable nonetheless.
Then, as Sophie returned, her eyes met Do-yoon's, who'd been watching.
'Huh?'
She startled, quickly dropping her gaze.
Do-yoon dismissed it as coincidence, nothing more.
'Unique eyes.'
But afterward, Sophie kept stealing glances at him, fiddling with her cloth-wrapped little horn.
Meanwhile, the instructors watching from afar shared Do-yoon's assessment.
"Drool-worthy talent."
"Barring surprises, she'll be top of this batch."
"What's her name?"
The melee instructor beside them grinned proudly.
"Cadet Sophie."
Sophie was one he'd eyed since week one—common knowledge among instructors.
And sure enough, she'd shone before everyone, leaving him beaming like it was his own achievement.
"Haven't had top-candidate material in melee class in ages."
"Yes. This cohort looks rewarding."
They had some mercenary guild backing, sure, but at core they were instructors—finding fulfillment in training new Apostles.
Teaching the talented was always a joy, especially in talent-starved fields like melee.
Plus, position instructors got closest to cadets.
Connections with prospects held huge value. Even better if they scouted for their sponsor guild.
'Physique-wise... no big edge for punches, but her leg talent more than compensates. Beyond instinct, her natural lower-body build is art.'
He eyed her lower half appreciatively too—not carnal lust, but pure instructor greed for talent.
Next was the Minotaur who'd asked about plate-breaking earlier.
'Oh...!'
The archery instructor marveled again as he channeled mana. Not quite Sophie-level, but this Minotaur was solid too.
Sophie's footprint and color had auto-repaired already—perks of the popular mana-steel alloy.
"Begin."
His thick forearm and fist drew back.
"Hup!"
Thud!
A heavy impact boomed through the arena.
"Whoa..."
The dent was shallower than Sophie's. But his big fist made a wide mark, impressing the cadets.
Yet no cracks like hers.
"Excellent."
Praise again from the instructor. But Torn, pride stung by not breaking it, stomped back frowning.
And right after, Do-yoon brushed past him.
"Back against me."
The archery instructor placed a hand on Do-yoon's back and channeled mana.
'Hm...?'
He furrowed his brow.
'Channels totally blocked?'
Not even a trickle entered his body—all leaked into the air.
'Plain human type. Decent muscle, but soft hands like no training. Pale skin, low sun exposure. And mana handicap.'
All signs pointed one way.
'Earthling.'
Earth: mana-less, dust-choked air. Natives started with clogged channels—nine in ten bearing the acquired trait 'Mana Handicap.'
They poured early months clearing channels, but potential stayed mediocre.
For guilds: high upfront cost, low return—unwanted stock.
'Divine power's decent, but irrelevant now.'
Not Boss Monster Killer material, nor even for his mid-tier sponsor guild.
Tsk.
He openly clicked his tongue, shoving Do-yoon's back.
"...?"
Do-yoon found the attitude odd. Did I mess up?
"What? Step forward."
Do-yoon tilted his head at the unusually curt tone, heading to the plate.
The spear instructor overseeing the test shook his head at the archery guy's antics. No professionalism—just base greed.
Anyway, he clocked the situation. Mana handicap, likely.
More seasoned than the archer, he drew the same conclusion from the signs: Earthling.
Unlike the other, he stayed polite—no expectations, just proceeded quietly.
"Stand before the plate."
Do-yoon stood before the pristine, repaired plate.
'It's a Divine Beast body, status window hyped it up... fledgling as it is, should hold once.'
Do-yoon closed his eyes, focused, inhaled deep.
"Suuuup..."
Hecleus Style Fist Art.
Hecleus, Enoch's comrade from a century ago, the Fist Emperor.
Alongside Sword Emperor Buske, top genius in Enoch's over-a-century life.
This martial art wasn't so much invented by him as instinctive motion. Even naming it fell to Enoch.
'But more destructive and refined than any fighting style in the world.'
No teacher—just innate punches earning him 'Fist Emperor.' Pure prodigy.
Yet in Enoch's 18th run, it never passed down.
Hecleus Style Fist Art: usable only by Hecleus himself.
Hit hard. That simple, brutal will was its core.
Pure destruction focus. Overburdens the body.
Countless fighters self-destructed imitating it.
Only Hecleus's iron physique endured recoil.
'Took till my 15th run to barely mimic.'
How much could this new body take?
"Fuuuuu..."
A profound exhale from his deep inhale. Dust swirled at his feet.
No mana hum, yet it rumbled the whole field—a deep, heavy breath.
'Hmm...?'
Finally, the test instructor and veteran few sensed it.
Massive oxygen influx from deep breaths. Muscles sucked it in like demons. Faint steam rose from overprimed fibers.
Do-yoon sank into stance, eyes shut, right hand cocked back.
The test instructor's eyes lit up.
'Ho... check this?'
Legs spread firm as pine roots. Torso twisted to limit, waist unyielding. Upper body twitched like a cannon primed.
And that right fist loaded at his hip... pure dominance.
'Pretty boy, huh? Not Earthling—scion of some prestigious martial clan?'
But mana handicap meant mediocre results.
No technique beats mana-enhanced physique.
"Begin!"
Command given, Do-yoon's bloodshot eyes flashed open.
No one there knew. The spectacle they'd witness—how rare a sight.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡Hecleus Style Fist Art
Straight Punch
Before their eyes, the Fist Emperor's punch primed to fire.
That the one unleashing it was Great Hero Enoch Războinic.
No one knew.
KABOOM-!!