There Is No World For ■■

The initial reaction of the students to Yeomyeong’s words could be summed up in a single thought:

What kind of nonsense is this?

It was one thing to slap the Saintess out of nowhere, but now he was asking for volunteers to fight. Some tilted their heads, others frowned. A few students, though rare, began to gather their mana in preparation.

But regardless of the response, Yeomyeong continued without hesitation.

“Soon, enemies will break into the shelter. I don’t know their exact level, but it’s clear they’re not something that ordinary students can handle.”

Enemies? Most students sneered in disbelief. Yet, a few perceptive ones swallowed nervously as they watched Ms. Gemini head toward the shelter's storage to retrieve weapons.

“The situation is far from ideal. Our weapons are limited, and we don’t have time to coordinate. So...”

Yeomyeong’s golden eyes scanned the crowd.

“If you lack skill, or if you’re not ready to risk your life, there’s no need for you to step forward. Only those who have the strength and resolve to fight alongside me should come forward.”

The students were left speechless, but he didn’t offer any further explanation. Crossing his arms, he remained silent, as if to say the choice was theirs alone.

“Why’s he acting like this all of a sudden?” “Is this a prank?” “Enemies? Does he think the academy’s security is a joke?”

Whispers turned into open expressions of doubt and hostility. The once relaxed atmosphere shifted to one of solemnity.

“Maybe... just maybe?” “What do you mean ‘maybe’? How would he know if enemies are coming?”

They stood in uncertainty, no one making a move.

“Wait, isn’t that... aren’t those weapons from the clubs?”

Ms. Gemini emerged from the shelter’s storage, dragging a sack full of practice weapons. Seeing her approach Yeomyeong, the students frowned. If even the teacher was acting this way, this might not be a joke.

Tension crept in among the students, and then—

Step.

Seti moved forward. She didn’t go directly to Yeomyeong but instead assisted Ms. Gemini in moving the bag of weapons. Unlike the teacher, who struggled with the sack, Seti hoisted it up with ease, despite having the Saintess clinging to her back. Reaching Yeomyeong, she dumped the contents onto the floor.

With a soft clatter, the weapons spilled out. Their condition... wasn’t ideal. Swords, blades, spears, shields—sorting through them, only about a dozen were in decent shape.

“Of course, there’s no war hammer. That’s always the case with unpopular weapons,” Seti muttered, picking up two swords. She wasn’t planning on dual-wielding; she handed one to Yeomyeong. As he accepted it, she gave him a wink that no one else noticed.

Suppressing a chuckle, he examined the sword. Though the blade was blunt, its durability was comparable to the iron swords used by Manju mercenaries. He gave it a quick swing and addressed the students once more.

“Anyone else?”

This time, Soemiri walked up with quick steps, though she didn’t choose a weapon. Knowing she possessed an unusual magic that didn’t rely on conventional weapons, Yeomyeong didn’t insist she arm herself.

Instead, it was Ms. Gemini who picked up a slender spear. She removed her glasses, took off her heels, and tore a slit in her skirt, unmistakably preparing for battle.

Even the most oblivious students now realized this wasn’t a joke.

“Is there anyone else willing to fight?”

Yeomyeong asked again, but no one else stepped forward.

Seeing this, Soemiri’s brows knitted. She hadn’t expected complete inaction. However, Yeomyeong wasn’t disappointed. He hadn’t truly counted on their help.

‘When you don’t expect anything, you can’t be disappointed.’

After briefly surveying the students, he checked his hidden side bag inside his uniform jacket. It was just large enough for a couple of grenades and contained Uragan’s Handle and the Golden Seal.

‘If all else fails, I’ll break out of the shelter.’

Though he wasn’t using the Golden Seal right now to avoid drawing attention, his priority remained his own safety. He had no intention of risking his life for the other students. While holding off the enemies here would be ideal...

“All those who won’t fight, please move as far from the wall as possible, to the back of the shelter,” he said courteously, but once again, no one moved back. Instead, questions began pouring in.

“Is this real? Not a prank?” “How do you know there are enemies coming?” “Why should we fight? What are the academy staff doing?” “They... they’re going to protect us, right?” “Ms. Gemini! Please, say something!”

Their mana-charged voices echoed in the shelter, but Yeomyeong maintained his calm expression.

As the confusion grew, he channeled mana into his legs and took a single step forward.

Boom!

Dust rained down from the ceiling, and the questions abruptly ceased. Tilting his head, Yeomyeong spoke.

“If you don’t believe me, don’t. If you want to survive, figure it out yourself. We’ll handle things our way.”

His tone was blunt, devoid of any consideration. Some students turned red with indignation, though not all.

Wesley, for instance, responded differently.

“Ha! Right, that’s the way it should be! If you’re not gonna fight, shut up! I don’t know what’s coming, but count me in!”

With his shaved head glistening, he stepped forward, and a few more students followed suit: superhumans, magicians, priest aspirants... around twenty in total. For students, this was a courageous show, though Seti quickly weeded out most of them.

“Healing mages, please assist from the rear rather than on the front lines. Any magicians with potions or staffs? No? Then you’ll likely be limited to support spells, so stay at the back for support fire.”

Her strict standards didn’t spare the superhumans either. Some were turned away for lack of compatible weapons, others for insufficient skill. Some protested, but Yeomyeong dismissed them. Fighting on the front lines with inadequate skill meant certain death.

In the end, aside from Wesley, only one other student remained: Jun Yoonseong, top of the entrance rankings in superhuman martial arts. He occasionally cast glances at Soemiri as he selected a shield and sword from the pile. Clearly, he was interested in her.

‘Can he really fight?’ Yeomyeong wondered, considering Jun Yoonseong’s skill, though his flirtatious behavior left him skeptical.

Fortunately, Soemiri didn’t notice Jun Yoonseong’s stares, focusing instead on preparing for the fight. Seti, on the other hand, shot him a look of clear disdain and ignored him entirely.

Wesley paid no attention, and it seemed most of the boys were already aware of Jun Yoonseong’s interest in Soemiri.

‘...I won’t expect much from him.’

In any case, Yeomyeong and his group took up positions around the shelter walls, bracing themselves for the impending battle.

As time ticked by, beads of sweat began to form on their hands clutching the weapons.

Rumble...

The sound of something massive approaching could be heard beyond the shelter walls.

Groaning, Margan stretched. After a night spent writing reports, even his sturdy dwarf bones felt the strain.

“...When was the last time I pulled an all-nighter?”

His daily routine of waking up early and having tea had long since passed. To come back from a business trip and pull an all-nighter for a report... he shook his head, got up, and washed his face in the sink before downing a cup of old, bitter coffee.

Clearing his head, he returned to his seat and resumed writing the report.

[It has been confirmed that Cheonyeo possesses the legendary artifact related to the ‘Comet Sword.’] [The connection between the Holy Sword and Cheonyeo is beyond what the Australian government anticipated...]

Despite his best efforts, writing proved difficult. His eyes were blurry, his exhaustion overwhelming. Rubbing his brow, he remembered the best cure for fatigue: thinking of someone worse off.

The first person that came to mind was Medga, the Admissions Director, who had forcibly assigned him to Manju.

For Margan, submitting this report was the end of his responsibility, but the Admissions Director was likely dealing with the backlash of transfer admissions, in and out of the Prime Minister’s office in Sydney.

Only yesterday, she had been called into an emergency meeting.

‘Damn political science professors.’

Margan, unable to attend due to his report, knew the meeting’s purpose was obvious. It was an attempt by Board Member Nikolai Cerny to go after the Admissions Director.

Bweeeeeeng!!

Just then, the entire island was engulfed in alarm. The sound was a Grade 3 alert, summoning all academy staff, but Margan rose calmly, unperturbed.

‘Again?’

This was hardly the first false alarm this year.

‘It wasn’t this bad last year... This year’s been particularly problematic.’

Thinking it might be worth filing a complaint with the Watchtower, Margan opened his window.

In the next moment, he felt the mana carried on the wind and frowned.

“Detection magic... has been disabled?”

The mana on the wind was unmistakably a residue of the detection magic that monitored the island by spreading mana, just like superhumans extending their senses.

Realizing something was wrong, Margan reached for his phone, but...

Beep—Beep—Beep—

The phone was dead. No Wi-Fi, no satellite connection. Someone had clearly severed the communications network on purpose.

“Damn it...”

This wasn’t a simple prank. It was real. And today, of all days, the students were all gathered in one building.

Could this timing really be a coincidence?

His judgment was swift, his actions swifter. Margan dashed outside the staff dormitory.

First, he aimed for the main building of the first-year students. Or at least, he tried.

But as he reached the shoreline and saw a writhing mass of something stretching along the coast, he halted, narrowing his eyes.

“...Damn.”

Margan muttered a curse at the sight. The creatures filling the shore were... zombies. And not just any zombies, but ones cloaked in mana to prevent them from decaying in seawater.

Instinctively, Margan turned his gaze to where they were heading. The building at the end of the zombie horde’s line.

The first-year main building, where every student was gathered.

The building was already enveloped in a black wave of undead.