1 Second Invincibility in the Game

A sticky floor.

The sharp smell of stomach acid.

Bellman illuminated the isolated area with his staff, examining their position.

‘We’ve ended up far from Lady Bellen.’

He was separated from Bellen, who had been in the center of the march.

In one spot, there were Leana, Silla, and Riamon and Edina, led by Erucel. Only a few third-year seniors were with them. Two members of the third-year Magic Department also lit their surroundings with their staffs.

“There are multiple paths ahead.”

“This isn’t exactly a dungeon maze…?”

It was far from a typical dungeon.

There would be no monsters, cliffs, or venomous traps here.

As expected of nearly graduated third-years, they understood this well.

“We can’t really call this a path, can we? The spirit isn’t likely to leave an easy exit.”

“So, what’s the plan then? Should we try to find a way to communicate with the outside?”

While they were discussing their options, Silla was staring blankly at the wall.

“Should I try slicing it once?”

“Wait.”

Bellman hurriedly stopped her, preparing a protective magic barrier just in case.

“We don’t know if an acidic liquid might pour out of the wall.”

Silla let out an “Oh” and then swung her sword at the wall with all her strength.

Slice!

Her sword was infused with a discharged aura.

But, strangely, the wall healed instantly, as if it had never been cut at all.

Silla stepped back from the wall, her face twisted in disgust.

“Ugh, did you see that? It just squirmed.”

“…This is remarkable. The healing speed is so fast you can’t even see a trace of the cut.”

Bellman adjusted his glasses and examined the cut closely.

It looked perfectly smooth.

‘What is this? I definitely cut it, yet there’s not a single scar…’

They were inside the spirit’s body. Even though they attacked a vulnerable organ, there wasn’t a single mark. They needed to determine if this was simply due to monstrous regeneration, or if it was an illusion.

‘Maybe all of this is just fake.’

To test his theory, Bellman cast a purification spell. It was an advanced spell he had diligently learned, finding it useful each time the professors demonstrated it. He lightly tapped his staff, which was glowing with a white light, against his forehead, but the wall remained the same.

One doubt—that it might be an illusion—was put to rest.

“Silla, this time, try slicing it thin, like you’re cutting ham.”

Bellman’s suggestion made Silla raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Huh? Like the ham in a sandwich?”

Silla, seeming to think Bellman had a plan, nodded and infused her sword with aura again.

This time, she neatly sliced through a rounded protrusion on the wall.

As a piece of the flesh fell to the floor with a soft thud, Bellman’s eyes widened.

The severed piece immediately merged with the rest, like a clump of mud sinking back into a muddy pool.

Leana squinted, giving an example that closely resembled what they saw.

“It’s like a slime. Even if you cut it in half, it merges back into one…”

Slime-type creatures had the characteristic of regenerating when their severed parts were rejoined.

“A cellular bond, perhaps. But there’s more to it than that.”

Bellman pointed to the section Silla had cut. Though she’d severed and dropped a rounded part onto the ground, the wall was already back to its original form.

‘I need to experiment with this.’

Bellman created a small square barrier and trapped a portion of the wall within it. Even then, the severed surface started to writhe and restored itself to its original form.

“The mass that I cut is still in the barrier. Seeing it restore itself like this, it seems to be replicating.”

This also explained why the aura-infused cut hadn’t affected it.

The reason aura could kill spirits was because it severed their mana-infused bodies, similar to blood.

However, it didn’t have the power to prevent fresh flesh from growing at the cut site.

“It’d be best to abandon any hope of killing it with aura; it’ll just regenerate before it’s dead.”

The biggest challenge, however, lay in the speed of the restoration.

‘Cutting through it with a sword is virtually impossible. So then…’

Bellman pondered another method but shook his head.

Though a more effective way did exist, he dismissed it due to potential risks.

‘No, that would endanger everyone. A bit inconvenient, but using the barrier might be our only option.’

Suddenly, a worrying thought struck him, his eyes widening.

Could he be sure no one else had considered the previous method?

And there was no guarantee that everyone had recognized its potential dangers.

Just as he prepared to warn those nearby—

“Ahem. Seems you’ve discovered something,” said Erucel, who had been standing idly with a blank expression, now approaching.

“Erucel, have you learned anything so far?” Bellman asked, and Erucel averted his gaze, replying reluctantly.

“…That we’re trapped in a stomach?”

Riamon blinked, grumbling, “If this guy knew anything useful, he’d be bragging already.”

Edina, however, offered some helpful information.

“I was with the third-year seniors, checking the paths. We used detection magic just in case, but every path was blocked. No one could detect any other way out.”

They were tangled in a maze-like set of intestines. If the paths were blocked, everyone was likely isolated in separate areas.

“Got it. Then follow me, and I’ll explain what we’ve discovered so far.”

Bellman approached where the third-year seniors were gathered. Once everyone was together, Bellman explained the unique properties of the intestines. One of the third-year magic seniors began drawing a spell formula with their staff.

“Regeneration, huh? Well, in that case, let’s just burn it. Burn marks will permanently inhibit cellular regeneration.”

Bellman urgently grabbed the hand of the senior holding her staff.

“Flame magic is absolutely out of the question, senior. This is an enclosed space. Without knowing the wall’s thickness or the size of the intestines, it’s far too dangerous.”

It was just as he feared. The natural impulse was to think of burning a hole in the wall. Everyone seemed tense from the stressful environment, their minds becoming anxious. If they calmly considered the consequences, they’d understand the risk…

***

Meanwhile, Bellen’s squad had also figured out the peculiar properties of the intestines. It took a bit of time, but it was becoming clear why Gomon had earned Rockefeller’s acknowledgment.

“Growth and cellular fusion, huh. Didn’t peg you for such an observant type with that big build of yours.”

“Oh, this is nothing, really, haha.”

Bellen offered Gomon a modest compliment before placing her hand on the ground. As she closed her eyes to channel her aura, Kerndel squinted and asked, “…What exactly are you doing?”

“Don’t talk to me. Can’t you see I’m concentrating?”

Bellen snapped irritably, and Gomon explained on her behalf.

“That’s ‘Neogyeon,’ a secret technique of the Tenest family. It’s one of the methods they used to rule the Demonic Realm without mages.”

The technique involved spreading aura like an electric current, surrounding the environment and analyzing objects. As it required intense focus, beads of sweat rolled down Bellen’s forehead.

“Sheesh, maybe it’s been too long? My hand’s gone numb.”

Bellen took a deep breath, directing her concentration into her palm. Soon, electrical signals began to return from a distance. These sensations roughly mapped the structure beyond the intestines and pinpointed the origin of the magical energy.

“I’ve figured out the direction of what seems to be the creature’s heart.”

Kerndel gasped in disbelief.

“Is… is that even possible?”

“The heart of a magical creature contains a high concentration of energy. But I’m not completely certain—I’m only guessing because this case involves a spirit.”

When the chief monkey swung its tail, Arkandric had sensed magical energy. This mysterious creature seemed to also use magical energy, meaning it might be a high-level spirit. Bellen was busy sorting out these clues one by one when Kerndel cleared his throat and made an absurd request.

“Ahem. Could you teach me that technique?”

“…You’re asking to learn a family secret?”

“Lady Bellen, you came here to teach, didn’t you? It’s not an unreasonable request.”

Kerndel’s impertinent attitude made Bellen frown.

“Teaching something like that would need permission from the family head. Why don’t you try saying that to Aol? He’d probably cut off your head.”

Kerndel flinched, swallowing nervously. Bellen clicked her tongue and shot Gomon an annoyed look.

“Why, exactly, was an idiot like him assigned here? And what about that reckless nephew?”

“Ah, Hersel… well, there were… a few complications, hehe,” Gomon replied with a foolish laugh, scratching the back of his head.

Bellen scowled, “Ugh, looking at you lot lately is just pathetic.”

“…I have no excuse. But that boy is as stubborn as they come.”

Bellen, finding some sense in the reasoning, fell silent.

‘True, that one has always been stubborn. Never listens.’

A moment of quiet passed, and the tension dissipated.

Bellen brought up a heavier subject.

“So, in this case, is the mission the priority? Or the students?”

Pathfinders are a group that wouldn’t hesitate to leave fallen comrades behind for the mission. But here, they were at the academy. If they were caught in an unexpected incident rather than an organized training exercise, they had a duty to prioritize the students’ lives…

Yet, there was one exception.

Gomon sighed and spoke bitterly, “It’s wartime. It’s an exception.”

This was a rule established after the lessons of past wars: In wartime, students lose their status as students and are temporarily given the rank of Pathfinder. In this case, destroying the Spirit Gate took precedence over saving lives.

Even so, Bellen chuckled as she drew her sword.

“I’m not too keen on that. I’ll hunt down this thing first and worry about the Spirit Gate afterward.”

“…What if the elders find out?”

“They’ll just give me a lecture. If they’re unhappy, they can just let me go.”

A surge of electricity sparked along Bellen’s arm, gripping her sword.

“Well then, let’s go round up the kids first.”

The wall’s regeneration speed was so fast that no cuts were visible.

Then the answer was simple—cut faster.

For the first time in a while, Bellen executed the family’s secret sword technique.

Of course, with the age she had on her and rusty skills, it was no easy task.

‘Here’s hoping I don’t pull a tendon.’

As she took a deep breath to steady herself, Kerndel spoke up again, spouting nonsense.

“Lady Bellen, as I understand, you can imbue your sword with flames. Why not just burn it all? Burns should prevent regeneration.”

Kerndel looked triumphant, thinking he’d had a clever idea.

As Bellen looked at him with pity, Gomon shook his head.

“This is a confined space. If you use flames, you’ll burn up all the oxygen. Without knowing when we can escape, you might risk suffocating us all.”

“Then let’s just get it over with quickly,” Kerndel replied cluelessly, making Bellen scratch his head in frustration.

“You idiot. The walls are thick, and the area is huge. If you go around burning everything, we’re all dead. Even if you don’t know the specifics, that’s common sense.”

Kerndel closed his mouth, realizing Bellen was right.

With frustration mounting, Bellen shouted at Gomon.

“Ugh, is this fool really a top-level soldier?”

“Well, his skills are decent. His lack of brains is just a flaw…”

Bellen muttered, “A hopeless case,” and swung his sword at a speed too fast for the eye to follow.

Slice!

A large square hole appeared as the wall was sliced. Before the wall could regenerate, she swiftly grabbed the backs of Gomon and Kerndel’s necks and jumped through the hole. Whether from shock or embarrassment, Kerndel lost his balance and landed flat on the ground with a splat. Kerndel secretly wiped away a tear.

***

Elsewhere, Jurette was keeping an eye on Merdilla, the spirit of the giant slug. She surveyed the vast army of spirits surrounding Merdilla’s massive body. If a significant portion of their forces was lost, taking down the fortress would become far easier.

‘Victory is tipping in our favor. But I mustn’t let my guard down… that swordsman who wields flame is out there.’

Jurette landed on Merdilla’s body.

“Merdilla, how are things inside?”

“I felt a brief, tingling sensation, like something was stirring around inside me.”

“Anything else unusual?”

“Not much. Just a few idiots trying to burn things up.”

Her tone was calm, but Jurette felt a pang of concern.

“…That must be painful.”

“Oh, I’m long used to that.”

Merdilla chuckled, brushing off the scars that had once been her trauma.

“It’s better than touching salt, at least.”

When she was no bigger than a thumb, she’d lived a life no different from a racehorse in a gambling den.

Humans had trapped her along with other slug spirits in a salt maze, placing bets on which one would escape first. If they were too slow, salt would be sprinkled on them, causing their bodies to dissolve, and the defeated slugs met their end in agony. Perhaps this was why she had shaped her insides like a maze, haunted by those memories of the past.

“I hope they feel the same melting pain you endured. May this bring you a measure of comfort, Merdilla.”

Jurette gently stroked Merdilla’s immense form with her small hand, offering quiet solace. Then, recalling the most concerning figure, she looked toward the fortress. The man who had easily slain Hornbull, the spirit of the giant blue marlin, had yet to reveal himself.

‘The longer he stays hidden, the more it unnerves me. That blond man is the greatest threat.’

Ideally, she hoped he was trapped within Merdilla’s stomach, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Jurette felt grateful she was here, keeping a close watch on the fortress.

***

At the fortress’s peak, Rockefeller peered through a telescope, observing the situation outside: the enormous slug and the multitude of spirit troops around it. Normally, the right course would be to bypass them and destroy the Spirit Gate. But breaking through such a large force required the strength of those trapped inside.

He had some personal reasons for this, as well.

‘Inside are people of great potential—Lady Bellen and Mircel… If either of them were to die, the Tenest family’s fury would be fierce.’

Stirring up the Duke’s wrath would be unmanageable, and the central office would likely try to deflect responsibility.

Recalling this, Rockefeller cast a lightening spell and slowly descended. The training grounds were filled with professors and students on defense duty. As they awaited his orders, Rockefeller singled out a man.

“Hamendal?”

Upon hearing his name, Hamendal hesitantly approached.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“We’ll need your abilities again. Prepare yourself.”

“Prepare, sir? You don’t mean…”

Hamendal’s eyes twitched in alarm, sensing something ominous. Rockefeller nodded and gestured toward the spirits outside.

“First, we gather intel. Hmm, that one will do.”

Rockefeller pointed to a long snake.

“A snake could easily slip through with only a small opening.”

“W-wait a moment. You can’t mean what I think…”

“Possess it.”

Hamendal’s face fell, looking grim. Last time, he’d possessed an undead creature during the Luon incident. Now it was a corrupted snake spirit, flicking its tongue.

‘Rockefeller, you bastard. Now you’re telling me to crawl on the ground?’

Hamendal hated Rockefeller.

To read Chapters ahead 👇

CH 171-175 (Tyrant Dordone) $3

CH 176-180 (Alon Vs Ecok) $3

CH 181-185 (Academy’s downfall) $3

CH 186-190 (Rockefeller) $3

CH 191-195 (Student council president) $3

CH 196-200 (The King) $3

CH 201-205 (Field Trip) $3

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