I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple-Chapter 138

"NEW! 2nd place: Luan Badniker – 90 points!"

"It stings a little," I muttered.

I slapped my forehead. The score wasn't low, and the ranking was high, but who truly wanted to settle for second place? Honestly, I didn't think my responses were bad. I'd even wondered whether I had beaten the Iron-Blooded Lord's score.

Getting ahead of myself is a sin.

Third Senior Brother's words echoed in my mind, quickly followed by a surge of curiosity. How did the Iron-Blooded Lord clear the Room of Reflexes?

I tapped the name Delac Badniker on the floating screen.

Come to think of it, there was no middle initial C. It seemed that the Iron-Blooded Lord hadn't received a middle name back then.

"Would you like to see Delac Badniker's records? Y/N?"

"What?"

Was there such a function?

Without thinking, I pressed Y.

The Iron-Blooded Lord appeared on the small screen. He still looked young enough to be called a juvenile in the present day, but the Iron-Blooded Lord in the recording seemed far younger.

That is my father, right? I wondered.

He looked like a completely different person. It wasn't just that he appeared three or four years younger—the strange feeling came from his expression, posture, gestures, and actions. The entire atmosphere was different.

Back then, the Iron-Blooded Lord didn't seem heartless, expressionless, or cold. Instead, he appeared timid, almost cute, like a nervous little animal.

Crazy. Setting aside the fact that he was the Iron-Blooded Lord, I shook my head because I couldn't afford to feel this way about my father.

In any case, the Iron-Blooded Lord faced the trial with a slightly nervous expression. His responses from stages one to three resembled mine, but the fourth stage was entirely different.

The moment the ceiling flipped, revealing honeycomb-like holes filled with weapons, he drew his sword in a flash and swung upward. Then the wind from his sword shattered the ceiling.

I gasped. No matter how young he was, he was still the Iron-Blooded Lord.

At last, I grasped how the scoring worked. The trial had no single correct answer, but the Iron-Blooded Lord's reaction was faster. He anticipated a barrage of projectiles the instant the ceiling turned over. Instead of dodging, he attacked first and destroyed the ceiling in less than a second.

"Hmm." I faced total defeat in both creativity and reaction speed.

I admired the Iron-Blooded Lord's skill, but my pride took a hit. Especially knowing he was only twelve when he entered Cartel Academy.

No matter how relaxed I was, I still lost to a twelve-year-old.

No. This was also an excuse. I slapped my cheeks. Fortunately, there was still a chance to make up for it. After all, there were two more rooms.

Should I feel relieved? I trusted my strength and speed more than my reflexes.

Just as I was about to leave, a new prompt appeared. "Do you want to try again? Y/N?"

"What?"

***

Eight hours into the test, more than half of the hero disciples had been expelled from the tower. In other words, every hero disciple still climbing was allowed to transfer to the academy. Unaware of this, they eagerly pressed onward.

Meanwhile, the academy offered no explanation. After all, the tower was a ruthless playground the dean had painstakingly crafted. A playground only functioned if people used it. Unless the dean wanted them to leave, the hero disciples would have to keep climbing all day.

Even so... Morland's eyes lingered on the screen, tinged with surprise.

The results were unexpected. Thirty-five hero disciples had entered the Tower of Training: ten from the Badnikers' training camp and twenty-five from the Goodsprings' certification ceremony. Now, all ten Badniker disciples were still progressing, having crossed the Mana-Eating Stairs. Meanwhile, only six hero disciples from the certification ceremony had advanced past the first floor.

I didn't expect such a gap, Morland thought. The Badnikers' hero disciples boasted a higher average level. The two families were often compared in every field, making this outcome somewhat embarrassing.

Alderson focused solely on Luan, ignoring the many hero disciples still climbing. Luan was the only one on the third floor. Though eight hours had passed, most disciples remained stuck on the second floor.

This was hardly surprising. The Floor of Knowledge posed questions so difficult that even esteemed scholars and experts struggled to answer them. Arcane studies, in particular, were tightly controlled by magic towers and academic societies. It was as dangerous as it was powerful.

Of course, Luan was of Badniker blood, with Assad as the family's guardian. That gave him access to the fundamental arcane knowledge necessary to advance.

Even so, answering questions in completely different fields? Is this what people call genius? No. It's something else entirely. Being smart isn't enough.

This wasn't even the intended approach for the second floor. Why had it taken the shape of a library? The design implied that, when faced with obscure questions, climbers should seek clues in the bookshelves.

In fact, the shelves were stocked with rare manuscripts of ancient books that were nearly impossible to find elsewhere.

Alderson had insisted on the Floor of Knowledge's layout. It was a pity fewer young people visited libraries nowadays, so he had specially prepared this to help them rediscover the thrill of uncovering knowledge firsthand. Still, solving even one question typically took at least an hour—sometimes three or four.

Yet that cheeky brat cleared the entire floor in just thirty minutes and breezed onto the next!

Now, though, even Luan appeared to be stuck on the third floor.

"Professor Morland," Alderson called out.

"Yes?"

"How long has Luan been on the third floor?"

"It has been three hours."

Alderson stroked his beard, calming himself. "Hmm. It seems he's hit a wall."

Truthfully, Luan's relentless progress had started to remind him of the Badniker nightmare. No matter how talented the boy was, he wasn't the Iron-Blooded Lord. And that was only natural. What were the odds that a once-in-centuries prodigy would appear again so soon and in the same family?

Still, he did remarkably well.

Luan was sixteen years old this year, still maturing. He was a promising talent with a future worth watching.

Alderson regained his composure. His smile softened as he took another sip of tea.

Morland, however, watched the screen with a hint of concern. Unlike the previous floors, the third only had a few communication crystals. They could monitor the waiting room, but not the three separate challenge rooms of Strength, Speed, and Reflexes.

Only those who scored at least 150 points could ascend to the fourth floor. This meant that they needed to get fifty points in a room on average.It was no simple task. From stage three onward, the difficulty spiked. Frankly, Morland wasn't sure how many hero disciples could endure such trials.

Still, he's the one who ran the Mana-Eating Stairs and set a new record. Should it really be taking him this long? His gaze flicked back to the screen.

As if in response to his curiosity, Luan's screen echoed with the message. "Congratulations. You have passed the Training Floor."

***

Room of Strength: 99 points

Room of Speed: 97 points

Room of Reflexes: 93 points

Overall ranking:

(NEW!) 1st place: Luan Badniker – 289 points

2nd place: Leone – 281 points

3rd place: Delac Badniker – 280 points

4th place: Hyde Woodjack – 277 points

5th place: Kaela Goldan – 265 points

I took first place in the overall rankings, but before I could savor the victory, questions flooded me.

First place. Surprisingly, the Iron-Blooded Lord wasn't the top overall. He had claimed first in the Room of Reflexes but placed only second and third in the Rooms of Strength and Speed. Leone, who had held first place overall until just now, had ranked first in both Strength and Speed.

I narrowed my eyes. Who is this?

It was a name I'd never heard before. The other names, however, were familiar. Hyde Woodjack, Charon's father and the continent's most powerful ranger, was a well-known figure. Kaela Goldan, Kayan's foster daughter who had only been mentioned briefly before, was the current Mercenary King.

It was surprising to see both Hyde and Kaela had attended the academy. Still, the most unexpected name was Leone. I had never heard of her before,yet she outranked the Iron-Blooded Lord.

Maybe it is a pseudonym.

Curious, I checked her profile the same way I had with the Iron-Blooded Lord and found that it was a girl with black hair and red eyes. I didn't recognize her, though. She tackled each trial with a fierce smile and had clearly unusual physical abilities.

Well, she is still below me.

This marked the end of the third floor. The score required to reach the fourth was 150 points, and I had nearly double that. I exceeded the threshold and could now advance.

I searched around but found no stairs. The scenery would shift on its own if I waited. Yet, strangely, nothing changed.

Just as I narrowed my eyes in confusion, a soft cough echoed.

Was it a communication crystal?

"Ah, can you hear me, Hero Disciple Luan?" Alderson's voice came through.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing urgent. I've been watching your performance from the control room. Truly outstanding," he remarked.

I let the flattery slide in one ear and out the other. I could tell this wasn't just about praise.

"Now, to get to the point, Hero Disciple Luan. I'm afraid you won't be able to proceed to the fourth floor in your current state."

"What do you mean?"

"The next floor, the Sparring Floor, requires a minimum of two challengers. Without that, the trial won't activate," he explained.

I froze at his words. "That means..."

"You can't advance until another hero disciple arrives."

The setup was a mess. Probably not a last-minute rule, but Alderson's tone sounded sharper than usual.

"So, does this Sparring Floor work like a one-on-one between those of us who've climbed this far?" I probed.

If that were the case, the requirement for two people would make sense. There'd be no way to evaluate the trial without an opponent.

"I can't reveal many details, but it's somewhat different."

"If it's not that kind of format, I don't see why I can't attempt it alone," I pressed.

"That is impossible, young hero disciple. No matter the circumstance, the rules must be followed."

With that, I realized one thing. Whatever else was going on, this old man didn't want me climbing any higher.

"Still, you've made it to the third floor. It would be a shame to just turn back, wouldn't it? Hero Disciple Luan, your performance in the tower has been remarkable. So, I'll give you a suitable reward," Alderson declared.

Then his tone changed subtly. "Besides, you must be exhausted. There's a welcome banquet tonight. We've invited one of the empire's top experts and arranged for an excellent orchestra. You'll want to change into something more formal, so why not call it a day and come down?"

Something stirred in my chest—that rebellious spark.

"Dean Alderson, you said the minimum is two challengers, right?" I asked with a smile.

"Indeed."

"Then it doesn't matter who it is. As long as someone else reaches the third floor, I can challenge it with them?"

"That's true," he replied. "However, clearing the second floor is no easy feat. And even if someone makes it through, they still need to score 150 points on the third floor like you did. Then they have to choose to proceed, which isn't guaranteed—"

"Perfect," I cut him off, a little more rudely than intended.

The trials on the first, second, and third floors weren't easy, but a few faces capable of reaching this point came to mind. One person stood out—not by any evidence, just a gut feeling—someone who might be the fastest to reach the third floor.

"Who are you waiting for?" Alderson asked, clearly unsettled by my calm.

I closed my eyes and started circulating my internal energy circulation without replying.The lack of sunlight made the process less efficient, but there was nothing else to do.

By the time I completed one round of the First Fire Technique, a figure appeared in a burst of light at the center of the waiting room.

Finally, a hero disciple reached the third floor.

I waited for the light to fade, then greeted the newcomer, "Hello!"