1 Second Invincibility in the Game

Books scattered across the infirmary floor.

“Damn it, this isn’t the first plague we’ve faced. Does this one even exist in the records?”

A few immune professors and students frantically flipped through pages, their eyes burning with determination, though their focus occasionally wavered elsewhere.

“…Principal.”

Arkandric was still breathing but unconscious. Without proper treatment, his condition wouldn’t hold for long.

Bellman hastily worked to stop the bleeding from the gaping wound in his chest, applying herbal remedies.

“This is critical. He needs professional surgery.”

Unfortunately, the medical professor was also infected. Without specialized knowledge or experience, performing a complex surgery out of the blue was out of the question.

For now, the priority was creating a cure to restore the medical professor’s consciousness and proceed with their guidance. While Bellman resolved himself to this course of action, someone shouted excitedly.

Relief spread across the faces of those present.

The professor who had found the information sighed as he checked the year of its outbreak.

“Wow, this is an ancient plague.”

“Is there a recipe for the cure?” Bellman asked, to which the professor handed over the book.

“Yes, it’s right here.”

The book detailed various ingredients and instructions. Assigning someone to care for Arkandric, Bellman quickly memorized the formula and headed to the alchemy clubroom with the others.

The alchemy club was packed with tools and materials. Those with even a shred of relevant knowledge quickly assigned tasks and got to work.

“I’ll find the Gurshil leaves.”

“We’ll need a distiller too, right? Ugh, look at the dust on this. Better clean it up first.”

While inspecting tools, Bellman glanced toward the window. There, Ecok and Hersel were sitting on the floor, deep in conversation.

“Negotiation, huh?”

The mighty Arkandric, once hailed as the Frost Swordmaster, had been utterly defeated. Despite his awe-inspiring feats, this time, it seemed there was no chance of victory.

Bellman surmised that Hersel would find a way to negotiate or forge a pact to resolve the situation.

“Yeah, that’s probably our only hope now.”

Deciding to trust Hersel with that matter, Bellman turned his gaze toward the source of their troubles, only to widen his eyes in shock. The plague doctor was no longer beside them.

“Gone? Don’t tell me…”

It was obvious that the one responsible for spreading the disease wouldn’t simply allow them to create a cure without interference.

There was a high chance the enemy was already on their way here.

Bellman narrowed his eyes, gripping his staff tightly.

“You lot really are talented with your hands,” came an unexpected voice.

Bellman spun around to see the plague doctor stepping through the doorway. Everyone stopped what they were doing, preparing their weapons.

“You know how to create diseases and cures. Truly a blessed talent.”

“…Here to interfere?” Bellman asked sharply.

The plague doctor shook his head.

“No need to worry about that. After all, our ‘king’ has rendered all my efforts futile, hasn’t he?”

“Futile?”

“I intended to press you with this epidemic, thinking Dordone would take a more measured approach.”

Bellman paused, recalling Ecok’s mention of a time limit.

‘Right, he did imply he’d kill us if we exceeded it.’

Considering the situation, the plague doctor’s words made sense. The plague was now essentially meaningless. Whether they died from the disease or at the hands of the enemy, the outcome was the same.

“Even if he retained Dordone’s memories, he’s still Ecok at his core. A bit extreme, but I prefer that approach.”

The plague doctor muttered to himself, then sat in a chair at the far corner of the room.

Though his words and actions lacked hostility, his presence was unsettling enough to disrupt the alchemists’ focus.

Bellman addressed the group.

“We don’t have time to waste. I’ll keep watch. Report immediately if anything suspicious happens.”

Reluctantly, the group resumed their work, while the plague doctor observed the process intently.

“The quality of those leaves is poor. Discard them. Only the stems are usable,” he remarked unexpectedly.

The professor frowned.

“Why would we trust you?”

It was only natural to distrust advice from the one who had caused the plague.

Yet, Bellman, who had memorized the cure’s recipe, realized the doctor was right.

“It’s written in the book as well. Impurities from unusable leaves could ruin the concentration ratio. We have to be careful…”

The professor checked the book, his eyes widening in surprise before clicking his tongue in irritation.

“You’ve caused all this trouble, and now you’re joking around?”

The plague doctor didn’t bother to respond.

The bubbling sound of boiling liquid filled the room. As the doctor moved his hand suddenly, Bellman, who had been on high alert, spoke sharply.

“I wouldn’t make any suspicious moves if I were you.”

“Ah, apologies for startling you. I was merely about to remove my mask.”

The plague doctor slowly reached for his mask, but Bellman’s cold, commanding voice stopped him.

“That’s off-limits as well.”

The plague doctor chuckled softly and grabbed the mask anyway.

“Removing it might actually be better for you all.”

Bellman quickly cast a barrier, trapping the doctor. He froze momentarily when he saw the face beneath the mask.

The doctor’s face resembled that of a fox, but it was in a horrifying state. Patches of fur were missing, and only a few teeth remained.

“Not a pretty sight, is it?”

Bellman began to piece things together. Clues lay in the doctor’s earlier remarks and the spirits’ hatred.

—To create diseases and cures… what a blessed talent.

This wasn’t the work of nature.

Whatever the reason, it must have been something akin to live experimentation. The doctor’s knowledge of medicine likely came from observing and enduring these experiments firsthand.

“I belong to a race known for its resilience. That made me an excellent test subject for humans,” the fox said bitterly.

“…Are you trying to spread your illness here?”

“I told you not to worry, didn’t I?”

The fox closed his eyes briefly, breathing shallowly.

“This is a disease that destroys organs critical to spirits when mana is inhaled with oxygen. It doesn’t affect humans.”

As the fox spoke, his breathing grew more labored.

So that’s what he meant by saying removing the mask would be better.

Bellman couldn’t understand his motives.

If the doctor had dreams of conquering the mortal world, shouldn’t he at least have lived to see it through? Why waste his life like this?

“What are you trying to accomplish?”

“I’m just… cutting short the little time I have left.”

The fox coughed up blood, his voice growing faint. His unfocused eyes gazed into the distance.

“My comrades are already gone. Only Jurette remains. I’ll wait for her to fulfill our final wish.”

Bellman frowned.

“Are you expecting me to listen to your complaints?”

“Yes, that’s right. I hate humans, but you… you’re different. Seeing your sacrifice for your comrades… I suppose I felt a sense of connection.”

The fox seemed to have witnessed everything that had transpired while trapped inside the slug spirit.

Bellman sighed deeply as he looked at the dying creature.

“Don’t expect any conversation from me. Say whatever you want on your own.”

The fox chuckled softly.

Bellman remained silent, allowing the fox to continue.

The fox began to recount his story: how he had been fascinated by humans when he saw their toys, clocks, and drawings in the depths of the mountains.

But his admiration turned to horror when he was captured by humans who saw spirits as mere objects for experimentation.

Somehow, he had managed to escape.

He spoke of the bonds he’d formed afterward.

“The first one I saved was Jurette. She’d been caged in a fortress by someone living there.”

He described rescuing a bat spirit from gamblers who subjected it to brutal treatment, and then a slug spirit suffering in a similar way.

The fox laughed heartily as he recalled the three of them hiding in an abandoned house, unaware it was a bandits’ lair.

“Jurette saved us from big trouble. If not for her, we’d have been doomed.”

He went on about how they drove the bandits away, pretending to be monsters.

“Jurette flapped her wings behind me while Meredilla oozed slime and made eerie noises from the ceiling. I looked in the mirror afterward and understood why they ran so fast.”

Though it sounded like a fantastical tale, the fox’s words were full of valuable insight.

They hinted at a forgotten era, fragments of a history erased from the records.

“Our destination was the North. I’d heard that spirits and humans got along well there. And the knights under Hornbl’s command were famous.”

Bellman found himself drawn into the conversation despite himself.

“Hornbl?”

“The swordfish spirit killed by the blonde knight. Back then, he was a highly respected knight commander.”

It seemed there had even been wars among humans over their treatment of spirits.

Adrigal, the founder of Frostheart, stood on the side of spirits and fought against a world that claimed spirits were mere slaves.

“While harboring hope and making my way there, I lost my way. That’s when I met Morozzo, the monkey. He had stolen something from his master and fled, which ended up helping me reach my destination. The pendant Morozzo carried was a miraculous object—it could guide you to whatever you were seeking.”

“The one that led us to the engine room, you mean?”

“Exactly. Hm, as for how things turned out in the end…”

The story concluded with Adrigal and Dordone, the spirit king of that era, achieving victory.

However, this triumph sparked another issue.

“It split the world into two factions: those who hated humans and those who defended them. Honestly, it was an inevitable result. Discrimination still lingered. But then, something unexpected happened.”

“Unexpected?”

“Dordone declared conquest of the human realm. No one saw it coming. Those who knew his gentle nature assumed he would take a peaceful approach.”

Bellman wanted to ask why but was met with more enigmatic statements from the fox.

“I don’t know the exact reason. It seems to stem from an event that occurred long before I was born… perhaps during the time when all races united. Elves, giants, demons—they were all friendly with one another back then.”

Bellman’s head throbbed.

No matter how he turned it over in his mind, he couldn’t keep up with the fox’s tale.

“…Elves, giants, demons? Are you saying they actually existed?”

Those races were the stuff of legends, found only in myths and not even mentioned in relics or records.

For Bellman, who had always believed them to be fiction, it was a significant shock.

“Of course they existed. I even remember seeing the last elf. They, like us spirits, lived incredibly long lives.”

“You’re not lying about all this on your deathbed, are you?” Bellman asked skeptically.

The fox half-opened his eyes.

“Believe me or don’t. But for someone who claimed not to want to talk, you’re holding up your end of the conversation quite well.”

“Ahem.”

Bellman awkwardly brushed off the fox’s pointed remark.

“Fine, let’s say it’s true. Even so, your story lacks credibility. Humans fight among themselves often enough—how could they have gotten along with other races?”

Human history was full of cases where enemies were invented when none existed.

A common foe was necessary to unify people or bring mutual benefits.

Such was the case with Belam and the Empire, which grew stronger through such tactics.

“They had a unifying figure. The world called him the Immortal King. It’s laughable, really. Despite the eternal title, he died for some reason.”

The fox scratched his nose and let out a contemplative sigh.

“In hindsight, every tragedy began with his death. Once the fence was gone, humans lost their minds. I heard they paraded the heads of the Elf King, the Giant King, and Alkin, the first Spirit King whom Dordone served…”

The story was incomprehensible, but Bellman mentally filed the fox’s words away and steered the conversation back to the point.

“You’re digressing. So, what happened after Adrigal and Dordone fell out?”

Realizing his lapse, the fox blinked once and answered.

“Right, where was I? Adrigal approached Lirques, the second-in-command of the spirit realm. Lirques was originally a neutral bystander. Yet, she took Adrigal’s side—though with conditions.”

The fox held up two fingers, and Bellman swallowed nervously.

“Erase the blood-soaked history of the past. And sever ties with the spirit realm.”

“Wait a minute. Severing ties with the spirit realm, fine. But is erasing history even possible? There must have been records left behind somewhere.”

The fox nodded.

“Adrigal could do the impossible. To be precise, he wielded a power that should never have been used. It wasn’t entirely his own power.”

Bellman frowned deeply.

Erasing history meant wiping out all memories and traces of it from the entire human race.

It was absurd, even with the help of a powerful archmage and some external force.

“Still, it seems remnants linger in the subconscious. Your ancestors vaguely recall the destroyed races and spirits wishing for abundance, don’t they?”

Bellman didn’t even have the energy to argue with the fox anymore.

He simply listened and occasionally asked questions.

“What about spirits summoned through rituals? Doesn’t that contradict the supposed severance from the spirit realm?”

“Well, there are always spirits eager to visit the human realm. I’ve been imprisoned too long to give a detailed answer, but I assume they’re only allowed through thorough scrutiny…”

Suddenly, the fox’s pupils became noticeably cloudy.

“Perhaps Lirques had another reason for permitting it—maybe to gather information about the human realm. After all, there are things here that shouldn’t exist…”

The fox’s weakened hand dropped limply to the ground.

The professor grumbled at the unmoving figure.

“First, he wouldn’t stop chattering, and now he’s just lying there. What a talkative fellow.”

“…Professor, did you hear what he said?”

“No. Do I look like I had the time? Get to work already—we’ve got too much left to make.”

Bellman turned toward the group preparing the cure and glanced at the clock on the wall to see how much time had passed.

When he saw where the minute hand pointed, he couldn’t help but shout.

“Thirty minutes! Thirty minutes have passed!”

By now, Hersel must have concluded his negotiations with Dordone.

A professor working near the window suddenly snapped his head around but froze with a terrified expression, his shoulders trembling.

“Wh-why is he drawing his sword?”

Bellman sighed, his voice deflating.

“Excuse me?”

Fighting a monster sealed by both Lirques and Adrigal?

The unexpected turn of events left Bellman staggering, his glasses slipping down his nose.

***

Through the conversation with Ecok, I was able to learn things that would have otherwise been impossible to uncover—thanks to the chance for questions and answers.

“I appreciate the story,” I said.

“And yet, you’re drawing your sword,” Ecok replied, expressionless, before turning his gaze away.

“Don’t misunderstand. The only reason I spoke with you is that I considered you a representative of your kind for the sake of appearances.”

Extending his palm toward the sky, he continued,

“There’s no way you could possibly be a match for me.”

As he clenched his fist, the barrier that had protected Frostheart from the ocean began to collapse.

“Now, you shall face the consequences of your refusal to surrender.”

The water pressure intensified, and the barrier looked as though it might burst at any moment.

Faces darkened further among those sprawled across the training ground.

But then, a woman emerged from the citadel, and a smile tugged at my lips.

“At last, she’s here.”

The air seemed to shift, tingling with dense mana so intense it felt like biting into grapes.

It was Dorosian, freed from the three layer restraints.

She rubbed her wrists, which had only moments ago been bound by shackles, and waved her staff.

In response—

Whoosh!

The ocean water that had surrounded us began to part.

Ecok’s eyes widened in shock.

And rightly so.

Dorosian had pushed back Dordone’s constricting power using nothing but pure mana.

If Ecok controlled the sea, Dorosian controlled mana just as vast in scale.

Her unique trait, “Mana of the Great Sea”, was as expansive as the ocean itself.

“Why are you so surprised?” I teased, causing Ecok’s eyes to narrow.

I gestured for him to follow and turned my back.

“Come with me. I’d rather not see the buildings get destroyed.”

As I headed for a more isolated area, Ecok’s voice rang out behind me.

“You still don’t get it, do you? I said you’re not a worthy opponent.”

Before his words had fully registered, I felt my hair ripple, and a system notification appeared.

[Impact detected.]

[Trait activated.]

[1-second invincibility cooldown: 59 seconds.]

A deafening boom followed.

Boom!

Ecok had struck the back of my head with his fist.

His eyes widened in disbelief when I didn’t budge even a millimeter.

I could have said something to him then, but unfortunately, I didn’t have the time.

The reason? My lips currently held the “Elixir of Dreams,” granting me three minutes of invincibility.

Of course, I didn’t expect to defeat him with just this temporary invincibility.

For that, I had resolved to use the life force—the source of vitality—needed to refine aura.

‘Donatan, prepare to use the True Qi.’

To read Chapters ahead 👇

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

CH 206-210 (Troublemaker Vs Troublemaker) $3

CH 211-215 (Graduation) $3

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