The academy notice board had seen many things.
Duel challenges.
Confessions written in bad handwriting.
Threats scribbled in red ink.
But this?
This caused chaos.
OFFICIAL ACADEMY NOTICE
Due to the unexpectedly disastrous outcome of the Practical Combat Exam,
the Academy hereby announces EXTRA EXAMS in the following fields:
🔨 Blacksmithing
🧪 Alchemy
Participation: Mandatory
Passing Grade: Non-negotiable
Excuses: Denied
Signed with visible rage:
— Vice-Headmaster Albrek
Student Reactions
"What do you MEAN blacksmithing?!"
"I signed up to fight monsters, not hammers!"
"Alchemy?! I can't even cook!"
Lucien read the notice twice.
Then smiled.
"Oh. Bonus content."
Elarion stared at him.
"…Why are you happy?"
Lucien shrugged.
"Skill expansion."
Seraphine leaned in, eyes glowing faintly red.
"I wonder how many students will accidentally poison themselves."
She sounded hopeful.
Lucien's Plan (Formed Instantly)
Lucien clapped his hands.
"Alright. I need teachers."
"You?" Elarion blinked. "You're asking for help?"
Lucien nodded seriously.
"I refuse to fail an exam I didn't know existed yesterday."
🔨 Blacksmithing — Enter Bron
The blacksmith workshop was hot.
Loud.
And smelled like metal and sweat.
At its center stood Bron, a broad-shouldered dwarf with a beard like woven steel and arms thicker than most students' legs.
He eyed Lucien.
"…You look breakable."
Lucien grinned.
"I'm flexible."
Bron snorted.
"Hah! Elf?"
"No."
"Human?"
"Mostly."
Bron frowned.
"…That's suspicious."
Lesson One: Reality Check
Bron shoved a hammer into Lucien's hands.
"Hit."
Lucien raised it confidently—
—and almost dropped it.
"…This thing hates me."
Bron laughed so hard sparks flew.
"Again!"
Lucien swung.
Missed the metal.
Hit the anvil edge.
The vibration shot up his arms.
Lucien screamed internally.
Why does crafting hurt more than fighting?!
Otaku Logic Engages
Lucien paused.
Adjusted grip.
Adjusted stance.
"Okay," he muttered. "Timing, rhythm, stamina management… this is just a QTE."
Bron blinked.
"…What language is that?"
Lucien struck again.
Cleaner.
Straighter.
The metal bent properly.
Bron's laughter stopped.
"Huh."
Lucien beamed.
"See? Tutorials help."
Bron's Verdict
After hours of failed attempts, sparks, burns, and one near beard-fire incident—
Bron crossed his arms.
"You're terrible."
Lucien nodded.
"Expected."
"But," Bron continued,
"you learn fast. And you don't panic."
He smirked.
"I'll teach you."
Lucien bowed dramatically.
"Sensei."
"Don't call me that."
Alchemy — Seraphine's Domain
The alchemy lab was the opposite.
Cool.
Dim.
Smelled like herbs and danger.
Seraphine stood behind a table filled with glowing vials.
"Rule one," she said calmly.
"Do not taste anything."
Lucien raised a finger.
"Even if it smells good?"
She stared at him.
"…Especially then."
Lesson One: Precision vs Chaos
Seraphine handed him ingredients.
"Grind exactly five grams."
Lucien squinted.
"…Define exactly."
She sighed and showed him.
Lucien followed carefully.
Too carefully.
The mixture fizzed.
Then smoked.
Then turned blue.
Lucien blinked.
"…Is that normal?"
Seraphine leaned over.
"That's volatile."
The vial exploded—
harmlessly, thanks to barriers.
Lucien coughed.
"Okay. Learning curve."
Gaming Brain Strikes Again
Lucien watched Seraphine's movements.
The timing.
The order.
The pauses.
"Oh," he said suddenly.
"This is turn-based."
Seraphine paused.
"…Explain."
"You don't rush reactions," Lucien said.
"You let effects resolve."
He tried again.
Slow.
Measured.
Patient.
The potion stabilized.
Clear.
Perfect.
Seraphine's eyes widened slightly.
"…You adapted."
Lucien smiled proudly.
"Pattern recognition."
Seraphine's Teasing
She leaned closer.
"You're dangerous, Lucien."
He chuckled.
"Because I'm talented?"
"No," she said softly.
"Because you're curious."
He didn't understand why that sounded like a warning.
End of the Day
Lucien collapsed on a bench.
Soot on his face.
Potion stains on his sleeves.
Elarion stared.
"…You look like you lost a war."
Lucien grinned tiredly.
"I won two tutorials."
Seraphine smirked.
"Tomorrow we increase difficulty."
Bron's voice echoed from afar.
"And break him properly!"
Lucien laughed.
The academy sky glowed orange.
And somewhere deep inside him—
Something stirred.
Learning.
Adapting.
Waiting.