BIAC 07

Chapter 7

Uriel’s expression shifted from what it had been moments ago.

The darkness that had hung over her faded, replaced gradually by brightness.

The reason was revealed by the message that appeared before my eyes.

[Character Info: Uriel Reich (D-rank)]

• Traits: Indomitable will, romantic, dual swords, one who understands darkness, dark swordsman

• Growth Potential: Very difficult

She had changed. Her rank went from E to D.
And her growth potential, previously described as catastrophic, was now “difficult.”

Still low, still negative—but this was already a massive improvement.

She wasn’t talentless. She had simply been heading down the wrong path.

The girl who should wield two swords had been using only one, trying to focus solely on magic when she should balance both.

Above all, she needed to master dark-element techniques—but she hadn’t even considered them.

No wonder her rank was E, her potential catastrophic.

I thought to myself: “Slowly… fix it piece by piece.”

In “Heroes Need You!”, I had to directly oversee and instruct every activity. I was the player; everything depended on me.

But this world isn’t a game. It’s reality—another living, breathing world.

The Uriel I knew could grow and improve on her own.

Yes. If someone could simply guide her along the right path.

If a coach existed who truly understood what to teach.

“Once again… I ask you, just one more time!”

It was late, but she seemed to roughly understand what I wanted to show her.

At first, she had been frustrated at her own helpless defeat. Now, she was asking to repeat it herself—eager to review, understand, and master why and how she had failed.

That determination pleased me immensely.

Now I understood why seasoned experts often couldn’t resist overtraining their novices, why martial masters became obsessed with their disciples.

“Again!”

I physically demonstrated what was lacking. She absorbed it quickly, trying desperately to fill the void.

I pointed out where she still lacked, and she furrowed her brow, struggling.

She was thinking—what exactly was she missing? What might be needed beyond talent or effort?

I refrained from answering. Giving her that would risk backfiring.

“That’s enough for today.”

Uriel, drenched in sweat like a summer storm, nodded while catching her breath. She had nothing left to say.

I had pushed her fiercely—but unlike before, her expression now shone brightly.

Her body screamed in protest, yet her lips refused to stop smiling.

“Instructor… Deus Instructor. Haa… haa… thank you. And… I’m sorry. I…”

I waved my hand, signaling she was fine. Then I adopted a stern voice:

“I told you, Uriel. I want you to prove me wrong. Prove that you are right. If you fail, the disappointment I feel… will be immense.”

She understood immediately, nodding. She vowed to do just that.

As she turned to leave, she stopped.

“Um… Deus Instructor… may I ask you something?”

Her question cut sharp, almost piercing.

“Have we… met before?”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s strange, but it feels like you know me… incredibly well.”

I did know her well.

I had worked tirelessly to make her competent, to ensure she could handle her own.
Other characters didn’t get half the care she received. She was being ignored and underestimated, which was a shame.

I wanted to correct that perception. She could shine if given attention and guidance.

“I’m your instructor.”

“Instructor…?”

“Exactly. As an academy instructor, I don’t only care about the top performers. I also take responsibility for those lagging behind.”

Uriel’s expression twisted slightly. She wasn’t used to this. All the instructors she had seen before acted the opposite way.

The proud noble instructors, even the common-born ones, poured attention into the best students. Only the elite mattered.

“In that spirit, Uriel… I have an assignment for you.”

“Assignment? Now?”

“Today and the other day, we’ve had two duels. You should be able to vaguely understand what you lack.”

“That is…”

“I don’t want excuses about effort or talent. I want objective, immediate improvement.”

Uriel must discover the truth herself. Overhelping would stunt her growth.

“Deadline: by the weekend.”

“What?! I have other assignments this week!”

“Don’t whine. I know you can handle it.”

Despite being last in practical training, her academic and theoretical skills were top-tier. The academy’s president had kept her around for that reason alone.

Later, as I wandered through the training grounds, wondering what the others were doing, a voice called:

“Hey, Deus Instructor.”

I froze. A figure I’d rather not meet had appeared.

“Ludwig Instructor.”

“Let’s talk.”

This was the same person who had ignored me for days. Now, he wanted something from me.

“You need my help?”

“Yes.”

I laughed inwardly. The noble, haughty Ludwig was asking me, a common-born, for help?

“You know there’s a practical midterm soon?”

“Of course.”

“There will be an inspection of the instructors before that. I want to nominate you as my opponent. Agreed?”

His words were careful, measured—but it was obvious.

“I want to crush you.”

He wanted to pick me specifically, not for show, but to defeat me.

Meanwhile, I reached for something I had almost forgotten:

My hand rested on the familiar handle of an old companion.

A simple, rugged hand axe—far from artistic, more tool than weapon.

But after ten long years, through countless battlefields, it had always been there.

I smiled.

This is it.

The perfect comrade for what was coming.