It was lunchtime at Seoul Academy.
Arthur, having been the first to finish his exam, took a seat in the corner of the dining hall, his brow furrowed in frustration. His mind was filled with the memory of the second chamber in the Dungeon Studies exam.
A dark, maze-like cave with no clear exit, where he had been relentlessly pursued by a massive wolf amidst a cacophony of noise.
"Was that place even meant to be passable?"
The problem lay with one thing: the wolf acting as the pursuer was overwhelmingly strong.
Even the full-force strikes from Frey Kent’s sword couldn’t penetrate the thick fur of the beast. Joy Partlan’s meticulously crafted spells failed to inflict any damage on it either. Even a purification spell from the Saintess herself, an attempt to counter a seemingly untouchable creature, left the wolf unscathed.
This wasn’t some invincible monster conjured up from a child’s imagination—what on earth was this thing?
He grumbled internally, though he understood Lucy's intentions all too well.
She had likely designed it so they couldn’t defeat it outright. After all, even from the beginning, the strategy with the guards in the first room wasn’t to overpower them but to figure out the victory conditions and overcome the trial by other means.
Looking back, he realized the first room had a clear purpose—to prompt observation, to solve the puzzle, and to cross the trial by identifying conditions rather than brute force.
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"So, this wolf is likely just meant to create a crisis, not an enemy to be defeated."
Crossing his arms, Arthur reflected on what he’d learned at the academy so far.
If that’s the case, then the first thing to do is to scour the cave for clues.
"...But no. Before anything, I need to figure out a way to evade that wolf."
A creature with such a bulky frame, moving at an unexpectedly rapid speed, and strength that not even the Saintess’s support could counter. Its fangs could tear through solid iron—without a way to elude it, exploring the cave would be impossible.
Until he found a way to shake it off, the only option was to roam about, facing death over and over.
"Pitiful prince, your face looks pale—you look like you’ll become a ghost any moment now."
Hearing a giggle, Arthur looked up to see Lucy Alrn’s mocking gaze. He tensed up, then let out a deep sigh.
"Do you even know who’s responsible for this?"
"And who might that be? Isn’t the pitiful prince making himself pitiful?"
"...Isn’t it because of the dungeon you designed?!"
Lucy, feigning innocence, tilted her head in confusion, causing Arthur to frown. Ordinarily, the anger of a prince, even a Third Prince, would cause people to watch their words. Instead, Lucy only laughed more.
"Pfft. Was it really that hard? I had higher hopes for you, pitiful prince. I’m quite disappointed. For someone who acts so high and mighty, you’re just a grumbler, aren’t you?"
...Why couldn’t he hold back his anger?
He knew that no matter what he said, it would lead to nothing but her disregard. Why couldn’t he keep his temper in check around this obnoxious little brat?
"Pitiful prince, have you forgotten how to speak? Have you become a baby?"
"Shut up and tell me why you’re here."
"Hehe. Are you angry? Shaking because a cute girl taunted you?"
"Lucy Alrn."
"Alright, alright. I’ll stop now, before you start sniffling."
Satisfied with Arthur’s flushed face, Lucy stepped back from the table.
"...So, did you just come here to mock me?"
"Of course not. Unlike the pitiful prince, I’m not free."
"Then why?"
"Isn’t it obvious? I came because I’ve already received the answer to my question."
"An answer?"
Arthur, puzzled, asked again. Lucy turned her head, her small, pale hand covering her sneering mouth as she replied.
"Yes, watching you flounder, pitiful prince, reaffirmed that my dungeon is flawless."
"Flawless? That monstrosity of a dungeon?"
"Ahaha! Do you want to deny it? I understand. It must be painful, knowing nothing about dungeons, my dear pitiful prince."
"Aagh! Come here and sit! I’ll tell you the true definition of perfection—!"
"Eek! He’s angry! Too scary, I’d better run away!"
Arthur glared at Lucy’s retreating figure, veins throbbing on his forehead.
Fine. I’ll make it to the end of this dungeon and show her just how flawed her design truly is.
She’ll probably have something to say then, but it won’t matter. By that time, she’ll be the defeated one, and I’ll be the victor.
Biting his lip until it nearly bled, Arthur stood up, feeling any desire to eat disappear.
"Third Prince? Where are you going?"
"Good timing, Frey Kent. Come with me. I’m going to dive into the dungeon until I find the answer."
"Huh? But I need to eat."
"I’ll feed you until you burst later; just come along. That’s an order from the prince."
"...Fine. But you owe me good food."
"Very well. Let’s find Joy and the Saintess first."
At the same time, Arthur’s party wasn’t the only one struggling with the dungeon.
Cecile's group of second-year elites and Rahvi’s third-year team, along with countless other challengers, were repeatedly forced out of the dungeon.
All of them faced the same nightmare: the wolf in the second room—a creature impervious to physical, magical, and holy attacks, inducing despair among the challengers.
Many of those initially aiming to complete the dungeon first had given up, claiming it was impossible.
Among the dropouts was Toby, the son of a mercenary captain who entered the academy, like Frey, as a commoner with a talent for combat.
Toby’s friends had initially been excited about the potential rewards, spurred on by dreams of leisurely lives if they could secure the Arts Academy Apostle’s artifact.
However, reality crushed those dreams when they encountered the wolf in the second chamber, leaving Toby’s friends unwilling to continue despite his attempts to persuade them.
A shame, really.
He had some guesses about how to tackle the wolf, but he never got the chance to try them out.
The assistant had mentioned he could form a new party, but...
"Sorry, I don’t think I can match your level."
"There’s no place for a commoner in this party. Move along."
"Ahaha, sorry, I’ll reach out if we have any openings later."
Even though the first day of the exam hadn’t ended, there weren’t many open spots left.
Toby had approached everyone he knew, asking if they had space, but no one was willing to let him join.
Sigh. At this rate, I’ll just have to wait.
He longed to test his theory as soon as possible.
Or maybe he should ask the assistant if he could enter solo.
While he was mulling over his options, Toby spotted Lucy Alrn in the hall.
Alone again, as usual.
He’d heard the rumors but still found it remarkable that everyone around her always kept their distance.
She possessed a beauty that could captivate anyone, male or female, like the allure of a flower in bloom, yet no one dared to approach her.
Had he not known better, he might have mistaken her for a goddess of sorts.
Ordinarily, Toby would’ve just looked away, knowing his father’s warnings about nobles. But today was different. Knowing that Lucy was the dungeon’s designer, he couldn’t resist his curiosity.
"Excuse me, Lady Alrn. May I have a moment?"
"Hmm? Pfft. What’s this? You look like some dumb golem."
"My name is Toby. We’ve crossed weapons a few times in sparring class."
"Oh? Don’t remember. Guess your stone-head skills weren’t worth remembering."
Anyone could recognize that as blatant disdain, yet Toby’s expression remained steady—he was used to nobles sneering at him.
"So, what’s this about? Ah, you’re here to make a move, aren’t you? Hah! You must’ve found me irresistible to forget your place. Sorry, pervy golem, but I find your kind revolting."
...Apparently, he’d overestimated his patience.
His father had warned him of the perils of nobles, and now he understood why people kept their distance from her.
"Ahem. No, that’s not it."
"Then what is it? Spit it out. My time’s far more valuable than yours, you know?"
"I heard you were the one who designed the Dungeon Studies exam, Lady Alrn. I wanted to ask about—"
"Oh, I see~ You came to beg for answers. For a golem, your head’s awfully high. Can’t you bend your knees?"
I’m going to lose it.
How do the Saintess and Partlan Lady put up with her?
His hands shook so badly he had to hide them behind his back.
Frustrated as he was, he was determined to get an answer from her.
"It’s about the wolf in the second room. Isn’t it an illusion based on a smaller wolf?"
"...Hmm."
For the first time, Lucy’s mocking gaze softened into a sly, crescent-shaped smile.
And just like that, the ambient noise around them faded, as if they were cut off from the world.
"Go on. I’m curious to hear what other nonsense you’ll spout, dumb golem."