Infinite Mage - Remake

"My mental durability, which was strong from the start, has improved significantly. I can now control my immortal functions to some extent."

Shirone’s body was designed for four-way defense, a trait typical of defensive mages. Most teachers had expected him to follow that path. However, his use of Immortal Function had shifted this expectation. His durability, once only a defensive strength, had now become crucial for his offensive abilities.

As the 20 seconds ticked by, Shirone clenched his teeth and pushed for one final burst of acceleration. With a loud burst of sound, his score shot past 340 points.

Beep!

When the buzzer sounded to end the test, Shirone closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The room, crowded with dozens of students, fell silent. All eyes were on the scoreboard.

410 points.

On average, Shirone maintained a rate of 13.6 beats per second for 30 seconds. The last 5 seconds, however, saw his speed exceed 15 beats per second.

"That's incredible. What's going on with the students these days? It looks like you might be a senior next semester."

"It's tough to get promoted, though. Theoretical grades are in the middle range, and raising a score quickly isn’t easy."

Shirone turned to Canis, silently declaring that he still had a shot at being promoted to senior.

"That kid’s amazing," Arin said, genuinely impressed. His immortality-linked mental power and durability were extraordinary. Shirone even seemed to have a natural magical affinity that allowed him to manipulate light into mass. It was clear: Shirone was a wizard blessed by the gods.

"Hmph. At this level, he could be my rival," Canis said, his competitive spirit ignited. Initially, he thought their differences were a matter of magical attributes. But Shirone’s demonstration had shattered that illusion. Now, even in a battle of sheer strength, Shirone could hold his own.

Canis, glaring at Shirone, turned sharply. "Let’s go, Arin. The tour’s over."

The students felt a sense of relief as they watched Canis and Arin walk away. Although Shirone didn’t represent Class Five’s full strength, the fact that he had impressed the apprentice of a powerful mage was enough to fill them with pride.

"Shirone, that was amazing. I messed up the test, but watching you makes me feel good. Is that how it feels to be a disciple of an archmage? Who dares to look down on a Class Five student now?"

"Shirone, you, Iruki, and Neid... are you guys really aiming for promotion this time?"

"We’ll give it our all," Shirone answered, evading a direct response.

Neid, who had come in third, was especially enthusiastic about passing the practical test.

"Haha! Of course! Get ready to show respect to your seniors! Now, let’s start practicing! Call me ‘senior’ from now on!"

The other students protested.

"Your confidence is through the roof! Get away from me!"

"If you’re my senior, I’d rather not go to school!"

"Why are you talking so confidently when you failed your theory exam? I’ll pray every night that you never get promoted!"

Neid, unfazed, stood tall, grinning. He was friendly with everyone, so the teasing didn’t bother him.

Shirone and Iruki slipped away, feeling embarrassed.

"Ugh, so embarrassing," Shirone muttered.

The final practical exam was over.

As summer approached, the air grew cooler in the mornings and evenings, and the plants began to change colors. During the day, it was still hot, and the students were busy with the end-of-semester rush.

Only one week remained. Classes had ended, and now only the final exams were left. The exams were scheduled sequentially, starting with Class Ten, and on the sixth day, it was Class Five's turn. Their hearts were racing as they entered the exam hall.

Shirone, Iruki, and Neid arrived early, having breakfast together before the test. The exam would last exactly 12 hours, with a five-minute break. While this schedule might seem intense for a regular school, maintaining focus was just as crucial as knowledge for magic school students.

The test consisted of three types of questions—A, B, and C. The questions were the same, but the order of the correct answers was different to prevent cheating and reduce the chance of guessing correctly by luck.

Shirone was assigned Type A, Iruki Type B, and Neid Type C. They were each in different exam halls, but before the test started, they relaxed in the hallway, trying to calm their nerves. With the exam determining half of their grade for the semester, everyone, even the bravest students, felt the pressure.

Neid was trembling, despite the mild weather. "Ugh, I feel terrible. How are you, Shirone?"

"I feel like I might throw up. One mistake and it’s all over, especially for the repair department."

"Stay calm. There’s still plenty of time. It’s too early to panic until we get the test papers," Iruki said, trying to reassure them.

Just then, the bell rang to signal the start of the exam. Everyone’s faces turned pale.

"Let’s go. See you later, hopefully with smiles."

"Good luck. Go for it!"

The three of them entered their respective exam halls, ready for the 12-hour challenge ahead.

Shirone and the others were busy grading their exams. While it was impossible to leak the test papers, Iruki had perfectly restored the questions. A Servant’s memory was flawless—like storing a stack of papers in your mind, which you could pull out and read whenever needed.

When Iruki called out a question, Neid wrote it down, and Shirone found the correct answer. They worked through the night, restoring the answers for all subjects. Though exhausted, the three of them split up to begin entering the answers. Since Iruki had restored the type B test paper, they had to match each answer with the correct one Shirone had found.

“Ugh, I’m nervous. I think I messed up some subjects,” Neid groaned.

But everyone had weak subjects.

“Same here. This is brutal. Even if I ace every other subject, one mistake could ruin everything, right?” Shirone said, his anxiety rising. He couldn’t be sure of a promotion, even with his insight.

“That’s what the study group is for,” Iruki reminded them. “Now, let’s finish the grading first and worry about the evaluation later.”

A few hours later, the results started to take shape. Neid was the first to stand up, fist raised in victory.

“Yes! Done! I got an average of 82 points! I passed 80 points in every subject!”

While there were no exceptional scores, he had improved across all subjects and scored an average of 82. In the past, he had been the troublemaker who barely passed Class 4, but now he was overjoyed to have been promoted.

Iruki and Shirone didn’t respond, though. The real celebration would come when all three of them confirmed their promotions.

After scoring, Iruki leaned back in his chair, wiping away his sweat.

“Whew. That’s it. 87 points. I had one subject with 80 points. If I’d gotten one more wrong, I’d have been in trouble.”

“Wow! So, you’re passing? Congratulations! Class Four!” Neid cheered.

“Eh, it doesn’t feel bad,” Iruki shrugged.

They both turned to Shirone, waiting for his results. If he passed, their long-awaited wish for a simultaneous promotion would come true.

But Shirone didn’t respond. Iruki noticed that his hand had stopped moving as he scored.

“Shirone, what’s wrong? Did you mess up the test?”

Shirone’s face looked pale as paper. It was clear something was wrong.

Neid, anxious, asked, “Why are you acting like that? How many points did you get?”

“86 points…” Shirone replied quietly.

“Wow, you did well!” Neid said, genuinely impressed. He had always hoped for everyone to be promoted, but hearing Shirone's score felt like a miracle. Shirone, the son of commoners, had earned an average of 86 points in just six months of intense studying.

Iruki, who had scored an average of 87, also seemed to understand how hard Shirone must have worked.

“Well... didn’t you mess up anywhere?” Iruki asked.

“I don’t know...” Shirone muttered.

“You don’t know? What do you mean? Tell me exactly.”

Shirone nervously bit his nails, unable to recall anything.

“Iruki,” Shirone finally said, “what’s the answer to the last multiple-choice question on the math proof?”

“Oh, that? You have to link the two equations together to prove it. It’s a long answer,” Iruki explained, then paused in surprise. “Wait... You can’t...?”

“I don’t remember. I thought I was sure about one of the two answers, but now I can’t remember which one.”

“How many points? If that’s wrong, how many points do you lose?”

“78 points…”

Neid and Iruki realized the severity of the situation. The last multiple-choice question was worth 2 points, meaning that one incorrect answer could make the difference between promotion and staying in Class 5.

“How could you not remember?” Neid asked, panic rising.

“I thought it was number two or number three... I was conflicted with just 10 seconds left, and then I chose one... but I can’t remember which one,” Shirone explained.

It was something that could happen when time was tight. Neid and Iruki, both familiar with the pressure of magic school exams, understood this feeling all too well. But this time, it was about promotion. If Shirone failed, he would have to stay in Class 5 for another year.

Neid, unable to stand the anxiety, said, “Damn it! I can’t wait!”

“What are you going to do?”

“I need to check it myself. Let’s go ask Siana-sensei. She’s a dedicated teacher.”

With that decision made, the three left the study group and headed for the exam hall.

It took all day to grade the tests, so the Class Four exam was still in progress. The three of them entered the building at lunchtime, anxiously waiting for the teachers to return. About 30 minutes later, Siana appeared in the hallway. The three ran toward her like a race.

“Teacher! Teacher!”

“Huh? Why are you here? Didn’t the Class Five exam finish yesterday?”

“We need to know the answer to the last multiple-choice question in the math proof for type A!”

Siana tilted her head. Although her major was chemistry, all the teachers helped with grading. The question papers were reviewed multiple times, so she knew the answers to many subjects.

“Why is this suddenly so urgent?”

“Please! This is really important!”

Siana saw the urgency in Neid’s eyes and recalled the final multiple-choice question. It was a difficult problem, so it stuck in her memory.

“Oh, that? For type A, the answer is number 2.”

“No. 2...” Shirone murmured in disbelief. He had written down number 3 three times. In the end, it was wrong. His score was 78 points. His promotion would be canceled by just two points.

“No. 2... No. 2...” Shirone kept repeating, as if struck by a hammer. His body stiffened, and he suddenly grabbed the back of his neck, unable to bear it anymore. He collapsed in the hallway, but Neid quickly caught him.

“Shirone! Are you okay? Wake up! You’re indestructible, right?”

“No. 2? Why... How could that be?” Shirone muttered, still in a daze.

Siana, watching from a distance, smiled and went back to her office.

“Honestly, are they ever tired? I feel full of energy every day.”

In her office, the teachers were busy grading papers. Siana sat down and began her own grading. After a moment, she pulled out a type A math proof paper from the drawer and looked at the last problem.

After a brief pause, she smiled brightly.

“Ah, number 3.”

Shirone's promotion was confirmed.

Kaizen Swordsmanship Academy, located in the capital of the Kingdom of Tormia, boasts a 200-year history and has produced many knights who have achieved great feats. Among its alumni, more than 10 are certified first-class swordsmen, with 3 receiving the prestigious title of Swordsman, a symbol of courage and iron conviction. Anyone who dreams of becoming a knight in the Kingdom of Tormia aspires to enter Kaizen Swordsmanship Academy.

However, there is no entrance exam. Instead, prospective students undergo a one-month probationary period, during which their qualifications are evaluated before a final admission decision is made. Each semester, the academy accepts 300 cadets, but only 30 are admitted.

Rian, one of these 30, was currently attending lessons at Kaizen Swordsmanship Academy.

Urban Combat Training Ground.

This training ground, designed to mimic a city’s layout, was Kaizen’s pride. The teacher, whose face was marked with a scarred, skull-like expression, glared at the first-year students sitting on the stairs.

“Today’s practical lesson is on movement. You first-year students will focus on shifting your center of gravity, and you will be evaluated on it,” the teacher announced.

The teacher’s name was Parka Kuan. A certified 6th-grade swordsman, he had once been a master swordsman, known as the “Death Mage,” until a war injury to his leg forced him to retire from active duty.

“Shifting the center of gravity is a skill every swordsman must master. It is where the three key elements of swordplay—speed, power, and accuracy—begin,” Kuan continued, limping on his right leg as he moved up the stairs. He stopped and pointed at a tall cadet with his chin.

“You, tell me. Where is the center of gravity of a swordsman?”

“Yes! It’s the navel!” the cadet answered confidently.

“Wrong. You, tell me,” Kuan demanded, his eyes narrowing like those of a shark. The cadet, unsure, hesitated. In the academy, hesitation meant punishment.

“Yes! It’s the sole!” another cadet replied.

“Wrong. You,” Kuan pointed to another.

“It’s the sword!” the cadet said, but before he could finish, Kuan snapped, “Get down. Do 200 push-ups!”

The cadet reluctantly moved aside and began the push-ups. Exhausting their stamina before a test was a harsh, but common, practice at the academy. Kuan unsheathed his longsword, its blade thin and spread like a fan.

“Where is the center of gravity for a test? The answer is ‘outside.’ This is called external gravity in schema terms. Follow me, ‘outer gravity,’” Kuan instructed.

“External gravity!” the cadets echoed, begrudgingly, as they began to understand the new term being introduced right before their exam.

“The reason I haven’t taught this before is because it’s difficult to explain. And, of course, no idiot like you would figure it out on your own. But today, I’m in a bad mood, so I’ll evaluate you on external gravity. Got it?”

“Yes!” the cadets responded, their voices laced with frustration. They were anxious about the sudden change in the evaluation.

“I’m only doing this once. So make sure you do it well,” Kuan said, and a heavy silence fell over the Colosseum, the atmosphere tense.

“I’ll demonstrate. Cut while advancing, cut while retreating,” Kuan demonstrated, moving forward and backward, his sword cuts slicing through the air with a sound that could send chills down anyone’s spine.

“This is typical swordsmanship movement. The force of the body moves the center of gravity, and the movement of the center of gravity increases the sword's destructive power. If you enhance your strength with schema, the sword’s power can multiply exponentially,” he explained. The cadets watched in awe, but their nerves were on edge, as the exam was drawing near.

“I’m sure you’re thinking something stupid, but let me tell you this: If you approach real battle with that mindset, you’ll be dead within three seconds.”

The cadets’ expressions grew more serious.

“Remember. No matter how powerful your strike is, if you’re pushed back in your movement, you’ll lose. Swordsmen adjust their center of gravity depending on the situation. Like this.”

Kuan stomped his foot on the ground, then lifted one leg and tilted his body toward the floor. The cadets gasped in amazement. Kuan’s body was now tilted more than 70 degrees.

“Is this really possible?” they thought. It seemed impossible for a human to hold such a posture without some external support.

“The schema-enhanced force amplifies the movement of the center of gravity. Right now, my center of gravity is outside my body. This is what we call ‘external gravity,’” Kuan said, demonstrating further by jumping up like a tumbler.

“If you use external gravity, your movement options are limitless. Watch this.”

Kuan fell backward, his feet hitting the ground once more. His body, tilted at an extreme angle, rotated in a cone-like motion.

“External gravity isn’t a physical force. It’s a powerful inertia. If you add rotation to this inertia, your body also rotates,” he explained.

As Kuan rotated faster, he spun with such force that he looked like a blur. He finished his spin in a controlled manner, as if time had stopped.

The cadets were stunned. If someone had been standing there, their ankle would have been severed first. Then, the accelerating blade would have shredded them to pieces.

Defense against such a technique was impossible. It was similar to trying to stop a tornado caused by a sudden change in atmospheric pressure.

“This is the ‘Death Mage’ technique,” the cadets thought. It was a name earned because Kuan could kill without the victim even realizing how it happened.

“This is today’s performance evaluation. Passing through obstacles is first, street fighting movement is second.”

Just then, one of the cadets raised his hand.

“Instructor, I have a question.”

“Get down. Do 200 push-ups.”

The cadets broke off from the column as they began doing push-ups, and Shirone couldn't help but wonder, What did I do wrong?

“Remember this: to get what you want, you have to overpower the other person. Instructors aren’t your parents. Don’t look at me like you’re expecting praise—that’s disgusting. Got it?”

“Yes! I’ll correct it!” a cadet shouted.

“Try again.”

After finishing his attempt, the cadet raised his hand and called out.

“Instructor! I have a question!”

“Speak.”

“What’s the purpose of the street fighting movements?”

“That will be explained now.”

The cadet felt a little embarrassed. His real reason for asking was to impress Kuan, but Kuan saw even respect as a weakness.

“Street fighting movements. It’s annoying, but I’ll make it quick.”

Kuan entered the building, its front open like a dollhouse, so the cadets could hear his explanation without trouble.

“The area where external gravity is most effective is complex terrain. In urban combat, the level of movement is key, as the space is often narrow.”

Kuan stamped his foot on the floor, but didn’t use external gravity.

“The reason for stamping the ground is to generate force and shift the center of gravity. This is called the First Impact. Of course, you won’t have time for something like this in real combat, but you kids could benefit from practicing hitting the ground.”

Although there was a mix of belittling and mockery in his tone, the students, who were in awe of Kuan’s skills, didn’t feel angered.

“But I don’t use the ground with my first impact. If I applied my own strength here, the floor would shatter. In the schema, external gravity techniques use various first impacts. For me, I’ll use muscle vibration—it’s the basic one.”

Kuan contracted his upper body muscles to create vibrations. He jumped up and placed his hand on the wall. With his elbows bent, he adjusted his inertia and floated in the air for over three seconds.

“Woooaaaah!” the cadets gasped in awe.

The expected “Get down!” didn’t come, as Kuan continued his explanation without pause.

“Using the first impact, I create external gravity as I leap. In this case, the external gravity would act toward the wall. By applying this, such a movement is possible.”

Kuan walked along the wall, and the cadets, slowly raising their eyes, watched in disbelief as he stood upside down with his feet on the ceiling.

“External gravity, in the end, uses inertia to offset gravity. So, gravity isn’t acting on me right now.”

Kuan’s act of walking across the ceiling was strange, even grotesque, but it wasn’t magic.

Anyone who could run on walls would be circus performers who couldn’t use the schema. Kuan, however, simply maximized inertia with stronger and more precise power.

Once the external gravity wore off, Kuan’s body fell with gravity. When they finished the demonstration and stepped out of the building, the cadets' expressions completely changed.

“Everyone down. Do 200 push-ups.”

“Practice!”

With sad faces, the cadets lowered themselves. For officially admitted students, most could handle the schema, so the number wasn’t impossible. However, as first-year students, they didn’t have much in terms of enhanced strength, so 200 push-ups was a tough challenge.

“Listen while doing it. The first practical skill is a horizontal obstacle. The height decreases as the level goes up. The final stage will be impossible to complete without external gravity. You’ll have 20 seconds. The obstacle is made of real swords, and it can be deadly if you fail. Of course, I’m sure none of you are foolish enough to avoid it. If you get injured, Instructor Siana will treat you.”

Kaina was the best surgeon at the swordsmanship academy. She could perform surgery like a healer, though the pain was intense. Especially for amputations, patients often passed out during the procedure because of the connection to their nervous system.

Damn, that sounds even scarier!

“Urban combat movement is simple. Create external gravity and lean against the wall. The longer you survive, the higher your score. Got it?”

“Yes!” the cadets responded.

Kuan, scanning the faces of the cadets with enthusiasm, took the evaluation papers and began.

“It starts with number one. I won’t call you by name, so come forward when you’re ready. Rest for those waiting.”

Rian sat down, resting his chin. Since it took at least three minutes per person, there was plenty of time.

“How are you doing? Can you handle it?”

A woman’s voice, not often heard at the swordsmanship academy, asked. Rian glanced at her disinterestedly. She was a beautiful woman with blonde hair flowing like waves, tall and slender, her long limbs giving her a striking look.

Elzaine Tess.

She was the only daughter of the well-known Elzain family in the kingdom, and she had entered the swordsmanship academy to continue her father’s legacy as the commander of the colony.

Her face could be sweet or fierce, but her personality was always fierce. Her skills were top-notch, and she was unmatched in her first-year class.

“Sit down quickly. If the instructor catches you, you’ll be in big trouble.”

“Oh, does Instructor Liando scare you? Aren’t you busy with scoring?”

“You don’t know anything. He’s a noble with eyes everywhere. Anyway, why’d you change seats all of a sudden?”

“What’s a good friend? I’m here to help you out, in case you’re nervous.”

“When have you ever seen me nervous?”

“Heh, well, there’s no bottom to go down, so what’s there to be nervous about? You’re easy last place.”

A cadet at the swordsmanship academy might have been offended, but Rian only pouted. Tess smiled, amused. His calm demeanor, even in the face of insults, made him stand out from the others.

Why was this guy in charge of last place?

Among the freshmen, Rian was undoubtedly the one who trained hardest. No, he pushed himself so relentlessly that it almost seemed like overwork.