Chapter 16
Optimum Headquarters.
Thanks to her son being off on a mission, Kim Yeon-hee arrived at work unusually early this morning. She was enjoying a warm cup of coffee, gazing at a photo of herself with her youngest child, almost as if in a morning prayer.
“Well, isn’t he handsome—definitely takes after me.”
But her tranquility was abruptly shattered by the secretary who burst into her office.
“Madam President! The knights of Lee Young-jae have…!”
“Let’s go. Explain on the way.”
She didn’t need to hear the rest.
The urgency in the secretary’s voice and the tension in her face indicated that something serious had occurred—something life-threatening, as was often the case in their line of work.
Unfortunately, her instincts proved to be correct.
“There are five injured, among them Knight Lee Hyun-soo, who is undergoing surgery for serious wounds.”
“Lee Hyun-soo? Isn’t he Lee Young-jae’s brother? How did this happen?”
“Well… the contamination level of the ‘Purple Gate’ they entered was far higher than anticipated.”
“Damn it, I warned them to be cautious.”
Gates generally fall into three categories.
The Blue Gate, which can be entered and exited freely, almost like a hunting ground.
The Red Gate, which causes disasters as soon as it forms, spewing monsters in a deadly torrent.
And the Purple Gate, straddling the boundary between the two—a gate that can be entered like a Blue Gate but appears randomly, like a Red Gate, and gradually becomes contaminated until it eventually erupts like a Red Gate.
As the head of the agency, Kim Yeon-hee considered the Purple Gate far more dangerous than the Red Gates, which appeared only once or twice a year. In contrast, hundreds of Purple Gates could appear within a single month.
This was not just her opinion; it was shared by the heads of the nation’s largest agencies, who deployed every available hunter and knight to eliminate these gates.
Fortunately, Knight Lee Hyun-soo’s surgery went well. Though rehabilitation would be necessary, his severed legs were successfully reattached.
Yet, while others cheered at the news of their comrades’ survival, Kim Yeon-hee couldn’t bring herself to join them.
After all, before she was the president of Optimum, she was a mother.
And her son, who had gone hunting in a Purple Gate, hovered in her thoughts.
‘Gi-hyuk, are you safe?’
“Aaah!”
A scream echoed from somewhere—Merhem’s voice. Park Gi-hyuk shoved aside the orc he was fighting and slashed his greatsword with all his might.
Schwip!
With a feeling akin to cutting through cloth, the orc’s crimson blood sprayed into the air. The orc, who had been targeting Merhem from behind, was bisected, his club still raised.
“Are you alright?”
“I-I’m fine. Just got startled for a moment.”
“Stay focused. This is a chaotic battle; attacks can come from any direction… Duck!”
At Gi-hyuk’s shout, Merhem swiftly ducked his head. Twisting his muscles to their limits, Gi-hyuk swung his greatsword.
Crunch! Crack!
The enemies clustered around him were cleaved in two, their spines shattered as they fell to the ground.
Merhem then used his spell, “Mud Chains,” to bind the orcs that were charging at Gi-hyuk’s back.
Caught in the ensnaring mud-like chains, the orcs’ movements were completely paralyzed.
And as always, Han Jun-woo flew in to finish the job.
Thud! Thud!
He darted in like a butterfly, piercing the orcs’ hearts with precision. The swift, silent strike was deadly—an entirely different style from Gi-hyuk’s aggressive greatsword.
The stage was set. It was time to dance.
With a flick of his wrists, Han Jun-woo’s twin swords emerged.
“Let’s dance.”
Like a butterfly spreading its wings, his hands whirled, and the flexible blades swept through the air in a dazzling display. The orcs’ agonized cries reverberated like music, while their blood bloomed like red roses in full bloom.
In the center, Han Jun-woo danced a deadly dance of massacre. Meanwhile, Gi-hyuk and Merhem exchanged glances and split off in different directions.
Merhem’s mace crushed the torso of an orc in front of him. Gi-hyuk’s charge caved in another orc’s chest.
This time, Merhem delivered a blow with his “Ice Mace,” while Gi-hyuk followed up with a devastating downward strike.
Then Merhem used “Sand Fang” to slaughter a dozen orcs, and Gi-hyuk matched the feat with his “Power Strike.”
Thanks to their relentless onslaught, the orcs’ flanks collapsed like leaves in a storm.
Finally, the orcs had no choice.
“Squeeeek!!”
Retreat.
They fled in all directions, trying to escape.
But it wasn’t just for survival. They had to report back to the tribe. The orcs were desperate to escape.
But unfortunately for them, there was no retreat.
The skeletons blocked their path.
The orcs drew their axes as a sinister red light flashed.
It was time for slaughter.
After the intense battle, it was time for feedback.
I handed out coffee and began to speak.
“Good job, everyone. Have a drink. You’ve improved a lot since the beginning.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it. It was a nightmare.”
“Yes, it was. Which is why you’ve improved. You see, true progress begins with an honest assessment of your current state, and you’ve done just that.”
“…You’re insufferable.”
As I sipped my coffee, I noticed their expressions were still sour.
They must have been quite frustrated.
No wonder—the last few battles hadn’t gone smoothly, and that wouldn’t sit well with two people so intent on improving.
“Cheer up. This was merely an ‘experiment.’”
Yes, an experiment.
As I pondered the positioning, I began to entertain a thought.
It’s fine to divide roles for efficiency. It’s also fine for those roles to synergize in perfect harmony.
But must we rigidly adhere to a single role?
What if someone is capable of handling two different roles? Or even all three?
Wouldn’t that allow for greater adaptability in more situations?
This experiment marked the beginning of the ‘All-Rounder’ concept.
“Still, we saw potential. Jun-woo, you can act as a tank, a melee fighter, and even provide crowd control as a support…”
Jun-woo could play both the role of a Linebacker, maintaining the line with extraordinary evasion, and that of a Linebreaker, shattering the enemy’s formation from within.
Add to that the crowd-control abilities of a dancer’s ‘sense manipulation,’ and he could evolve into a formidable commando capable of surviving even the most dangerous missions.
“Mary, you exceeded expectations. Tanking, melee, area control, crowd control, healing—you did it all.”
This wasn’t just flattery.
Her performance in the last few battles spoke volumes.
She seamlessly took on the roles of Safety, Warrior, Target, Zone, DoT, Nuker, and even ranged DPS. She also handled support duties, including healing and buffing, with ease.
In other words, she could take on any existing role.
All of this was made possible by her innate talent, combined with the near-instantaneous casting speed unique to her magic.
The only issue was her lack of ‘unshakable focus,’ which made her visibly flustered in unexpected situations, like being caught off guard in the last battle.
“Have some confidence. You’re already exceptional. Honestly, I didn’t even expect this to work.”
“Are you teasing us? You succeeded, didn’t you?”
“Right. You were on a different level.”
“Guys, it’s not about reaching for an impossibly high bar. You’ll just end up getting hurt.”
“You’re unbearable.”
“Agreed.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched Mary glare at me.
Look at them—they’re trying to keep up with a former Demon King. How audacious.
But I found it endearing. In fact, I was proud.
From their perspective, I’m just another peer. It’s no small feat to ask a peer for help, especially for those as skilled as they are. The more confident you are in your abilities, the harder it is to ask for help.
Yet, these kids asked without hesitation.
That’s remarkable.
Was it because I had shown them a lot?
No, they’re in their late teens. Kids this age aren’t usually that rational. Most of the academy still doubts me, even after everything I’ve done.
But these two see me as I am.
They absorb my teachings, despite their complaints. Mary absorbs every lesson I give her, while Jun-woo pesters me daily to squeeze out every bit of knowledge I have.
How could I not find them adorable?
‘So this is what my mentor felt.’
I now understand why my mentor smiled at me so often.
Their talent, youth, and passion—all their fresh, vibrant energy—were making me genuinely happy.
“Alright, let’s quickly go over some key points, and then let’s run it again.”
“Ugh… Now?”
“Great.”
“Jun-woo, you’re clueless. If we go again now, this demon will definitely say, ‘We have time left? Let’s do one more quick run before bed,’ and we’ll end up doing it again.”
“Even better. I’m always up for more battles.”
“…Damn it, I wish you’d all just disappear.”
“Heh.”
I chuckled as I watched them bicker.
I must be smiling just like my mentor used to.
Probably.
And so, our day at the Gate slowly drew to a close.
Han Jun-woo had to admit it.
‘I was wrong.’
To be honest, when he first entered the academy, Park Gi-hyuk’s name didn’t even register in his mind.
Han Jun-woo was too busy trying to become stronger, to revive his fallen family. The existence of someone like Park Gi-hyuk was irrelevant to him.
But Gi-hyuk’s first impression shook him to his core.
“Congratulations. You’ve earned the chance to choose me. Whether you seize this opportunity is up to you. I wish you luck. That’s all.”
I have nothing to lose. If you don’t choose me, you’ll be the ones at a disadvantage.
Was it confidence or arrogance? He was intrigued.
Perhaps that was when Han Jun-woo first took an interest in Park Gi-hyuk.
The youngest of a renowned swordsmanship family. A fallen genius who suffered from mana depletion…
A quick search brought up a wealth of information.
What caught Han Jun-woo’s attention the most was…
‘The greatest talent the Sword Family has ever produced…’
Even more than San-gun Park Soo-hyuk, even more than Baek-ho Park Min-ji.
Their father, and the current Sword Master, Park Gun, considered his youngest son to be the greatest talent he had ever seen.
But Han Jun-woo was a man who only believed in what he saw with his own eyes.
So he went to Gi-hyuk’s team—just to cross swords with him.
The Park Gi-hyuk he encountered was a man impossible to define in a single word.
At first…
‘He was… peculiar.’
He showed no fear. He was calm enough to enjoy his meals even with just three people on the team.
He was bold enough to confront a professor for insulting his brother and displayed his abilities without hesitation, despite the stigma of mana depletion.
But that wasn’t all there was to Park Gi-hyuk.
‘He was astonishing.’
He used an unfamiliar skeleton summoning technique and turned an excellent mage like Merhem into an even better shaman.
And most of all, the sword he wielded…
The Sword Master’s sword was beyond shock—it was terrifying.
‘Though he himself complained about its lack of control.’
Honestly, even this place…
Though this was a Level 2 Gate, Han Jun-woo felt it wasn’t enough for Park Gi-hyuk to fully demonstrate his abilities. To be frank, he could probably clear this entire area in a day just by summoning his skeletons.
Yet he kept coming here—to learn.
“Jun-woo, there’s something to learn from everything. A trivial battle? There’s no such thing. Nothing in this world is insignificant. The moment you think something is beneath you, you gain nothing from it.”
“Learning is a never-ending process.”
To reach greater heights, one must constantly question and reflect.
Park Gi-hyuk never stopped.
Whether it was magic or swordsmanship, despite having it all, he never settled.
He always sought to learn, to reach higher.
Compromise? Give up? Those words didn’t exist in this man’s vocabulary.
Han Jun-woo admired Park Gi-hyuk’s relentless pursuit of excellence.
‘Yes, this is the life I aspired to.’
Han Jun-woo leapt over the orc chieftain’s head.
Moving through the air as if defying gravity, Han Jun-woo soared above the orc chieftain, who stared up at him in bewilderment.
Then, Park Gi-hyuk’s greatsword sliced through the air.
“Take this!”
In that fleeting moment, Han Jun-woo saw his own reflection in the blade.
In that brief instant…
He grasped the hilt.
And slashed!
Schwip!
Through the gleaming moonlight, blood splattered.
Moments later, the orc chieftain’s severed head rolled across the ground.
Enjoying the story? Don't forget to rate 5 stars and review in NovelUpdte!