"Today, we will conduct the mana affinity test!"
After breakfast, we entered the first class of the second week.
"Everyone, you should have heard the basic explanation about mana during the first week! Before we start accumulating mana in our hearts from this second week, we'll take some time to assess your own mana affinity!"
Do-yoon listened to the instructor's explanation and summoned his status window.
⚔ STATUS ⚔
[Mana Handicap]
Born in a place without mana, you lived your entire life in a world devoid of it. Dust has piled up in your meridians, hardening and completely blocking them. Your body cannot accept mana.
'This is tricky.'
The chronic acquired trait that held back Apostles from Earth: Mana Handicap.
Because of this, Earthlings had to struggle for the first few months to open their meridians. Depending on aptitude, it could even take up to a year.
Of course, this didn't apply to Do-yoon, who had been called a hero in his previous life. Among his otherwise mediocre talents, his aptitude for mana control had been unrivaled.
The moment Do-yoon entered the Cradle, he focused every night in his dorm on opening his meridians.
What took others months or even a year was enough for him in about three weeks.
But.
'I still need two more weeks.'
The [Mana Handicap] trait hadn't disappeared from his status window. His meridians were still blocked.
Over the past week, he'd only managed to clear the major pathways from his heart to his head, legs, and arms—the aorta and vena cava.
Since the pace would pick up from here, it was decent progress, but the finer meridians were still completely sealed.
Do-yoon's body still couldn't accept mana.
Fortunately, the instructor's next words put Do-yoon at ease.
"Just so you know, this test won't affect your Cradle grades, so don't worry! Don't stress about grades or the instructors' gazes—focus on gauging your own mana aptitude!"
As the instructor said, the training field was packed with far more instructors than usual.
With even the Dean, the Cradle's overall head, present, it seemed every instructor except essential on-duty staff had gathered.
The class was nominally to help cadets grasp their mana aptitude and decide their growth path.
But in reality, it was a scouting operation to identify promising talents.
Among them, the archery instructor and ranger instructor—who knew of the Boss Monster Killer's existence—stared intently at the cadets, eyes wide.
'I'll definitely find them in this test!'
They were desperate to spot the Boss Monster Killer before any other instructors.
The Cradle's classes lasted eight weeks, and official recruitment only happened afterward.
For now, only they knew about the Boss Monster Killer, but as time passed, everyone in the Cradle would find out.
And the guilds backing these two were mid-to-small sized ones that couldn't compete in recruitment wars against major guilds.
But.
'If I find the Boss Monster Killer early and sell the info to a major guild... my life changes!'
A massive bonus and a high position as a specialist scout awaited.
The Boss Monster Killer was a treasure among treasures of that value.
The instructor who'd been speaking stepped down, and the spear arts instructor in charge of the test took the stage.
"The test is simple! One by one, come forward and receive a fixed amount of mana from the instructor. Then, strike this mana measurement plate."
The testing instructor pointed to the blue plate beside him.
"The plate's color will change based on the impact delivered, revealing how much your body has been enhanced—essentially, how well it accepts mana."
A truly simple, intuitive test. Results appeared on the spot, visible to the cadet and all instructors.
Questions weren't allowed yet, but one clueless cadet raised his hand. The instructor frowned. Give them a moment without discipline, and this was the mess.
But with the Dean and all instructors present, there was no time for punishments.
"Before the test, this question always comes up: 'How do you distinguish between high mana affinity enhancing the body well and just having naturally strong physical power to hit harder?'"
The cadet who raised his hand slowly lowered it.
"Don't worry. A human fist enhanced by a bit of mana hits harder than an orc's punch after full combat training. Sure, there might be slight errors as you fear, but they're negligible against mana enhancement."
That's why they ran these massive tests specifically for mana affinity. Among the five stats, mana was generally the most crucial.
Of course, that didn't make the Strength stat useless. It was hugely important in combat too.
But the cadets here had at best Strength level 1 or 2.
Level 8 and 9 were worlds apart, but 1 and 2 made little difference. Level 2 couldn't produce meaningful variance.
At least for these cadets, the instructor's words held true.
Of course, the instructors had no idea Han Do-yoon's Strength was level 5, or that he wielded martial arts as a secondary weapon.
"Any questions?"
Perhaps tense with so many instructors watching, most cadets didn't raise hands.
In the silence, only one boldly did.
A 2-meter giant with mottled black spots, fierce features, and gleaming golden nose rings under his nostrils.
The Minotaur, Torn.
"What if I shatter the plate?"
He stared at the instructor with a gruff voice and blunt speech.
Some instructors smiled, others smirked. The former were pleased by the new Apostle's enthusiasm and fighting spirit; the latter found the rookie's clueless bravado amusing.
This was another yearly staple question.
The instructor on stage—who was in the smiling camp—threw in a light joke to ease the tension.
"If you break it, I might even give you a kiss."
Younger instructors burst into laughter. Torn, suddenly the butt of the joke, scowled.
"Joking aside, if someone seriously breaks it..."
He paused thoughtfully. It'd never happen anyway, so anything went.
They'd been drilled hard lately—time to spark some motivation?
"I'll excuse you from all classes you want. Even that morning run you hate so much."
Cadets' eyes gleamed at that.
To them, this test had just been a public punching show to impress the female cadets.
Now it was a juicy goal they had to achieve.
'Skipping classes?'
Do-yoon's interest wasn't childish truancy for morning runs.
'Skipping lets me accelerate meridian opening.'
His fist clenched instinctively.
Hiding that he was Enoch was separate from building fame as one Apostle among many.
No matter how much Do-yoon shone, no one would think the Great Hero dead a century ago had reincarnated.
In his past life, Enoch was surrounded by the righteous and brave, all inspired by his heroic tales.
To make comrades and build influence, he needed renown.
And high Cradle grades were the first step.
For that, clearing his meridians was the top priority, as soon as possible.
"Alright, then. From the front, come up one by one and receive the fixed mana from the instructor."
The archery instructor stepped forward. His eyes burned with passion to find the Boss Monster Killer.
He'd rushed breakfast and pulled strings to handle the mana injection himself.
Someone who killed Boss Monsters would surely have monstrous mana potential too. The previous two had.
He closely examined the first cadet, placed a hand on his back, and infused mana.
'Not him.'
He knew instantly. Most mana bounced off into the air without entering the meridians. A dullard.
"O-oh...! Power's surging through my body!"
But the clueless rookie, drunk on energy he'd never felt, puffed his shoulders and glanced at the female cadets behind.
His muscles bulged. He felt invincible, overflowing with strength.
Dreaming of impressing the girls by smashing the plate and ditching morning runs, he grinned and stepped up.
"Begin."
"Yes!"
With a booming reply, he pulled back his fist. Shoulders and waist fixed, elbow flared out—a terrible stance.
"Arrrgh!"
Intoxicated by his own manliness, he yelled like a scream and thrust forward.
The moment his fist met the blue plate.
Thud.
"H-huh!?"
A pathetically weak impact sound leaked out. His body wobbled.
"Wh-what? N-no way... why..."
Worse than a whiff. But it was supposed to be a legendary, manly punch? He panicked.
"That plate 'absorbs' impact to change color—a special plate. Why you can't slack off."
The instructor, arms crossed, glanced at it. The strike spot tinged the faintest pink.
Onlooking instructors clicked tongues. Poor reflexes, poor mana talent. Dullard.
"Next!"
"Th-this was a fluke! It felt off no matter what! One more..."
"Next!"
One by one, cadets took the test.
Watching, Do-yoon eyed the plate and clenched his fist, gauging his power.
'Special plate common in training halls. Low purity, though.'
Unlike other cadets, Do-yoon was a soul who'd lived over a century in this world. He recognized the plate instantly.
Do-yoon gripped his fist tight, drawing up strength.
'At my level, without mana... it'd be tough.'
But skipping classes was too tempting to pass up.
'Use Hecleus's technique?'
Do-yoon checked his status window. Toughness stat—the body's defense—was level 4. Could it handle that brutal art?
Hecleus, the Fist Emperor, had been one of Do-yoon's most trusted comrades as Hero Enoch Războinic.
He fought barehanded, weaponless, earning the title Fist Emperor.
Like its creator, the Hecleus Style Fist Art imposed massive strain on the body.
As far as Do-yoon knew, only the Fist Emperor himself could fully withstand the recoil.
Even peak Enoch could only imitate it partially, accepting some backlash in key moments.
'Not sure how Toughness 4 stacks up.'
But he didn't dwell long.
Instructors said Stamina wasn't just endurance—it encompassed recovery, a broader concept.
And Do-yoon's Stamina was level 7—an absurd figure for a cadet.
It should handle one use's recoil.
'...No one should recognize it, right?'
Do-yoon scanned around. No instructor looked old enough to have witnessed Hecleus's techniques a century ago.
He dismissed the chance of the art spreading without Enoch; in past loops meeting Hecleus, the man desperately wanted a disciple, but none could endure his mad fist art.
Even up to the Demon King fight, he'd envied the Sword Emperor's disciple love, sucking his thumb.
So, one use here wouldn't be recognized.
'Let's do it.'
Mind set, he clenched his fist hard.
A domineering aura boiled within, veins bulging wildly over Do-yoon's arm muscles.