Vol3 Chapter 7 Player count

FWOOOOOSH!

Amos raced through the forest, the Gale Striders on his feet glowing with silver light as they hurled him from tree to tree at absurd speeds. Branch. Rock. Crumbling wall. Trunk. He barely grazed each surface before shooting forward again, the distant roar never fading.

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAR!

A purple light throbbed above the ruins. A rare monster. A rare item. Seventeen contenders closing in. Amos grinned.

"Boss fight."

Ding.

A sound echoed across the entire simulation. Amos's eyes flicked upward.

"...?"

High above the artificial world, enormous glowing numbers had appeared in the sky.

REMAINING APPLICANTS

888

Amos blinked.

“Oh.”

The number shifted to 885.

Then again to 881.

And once more to 879.

Amos eased his pace.

"So, there's a player count too?"

His expression grew more and more delighted.

Of course there was.

Why wouldn’t there be?

A shrinking zone, monster drops, temporary gear, a live audience—and now a remaining-player counter hovering over the map. The creator really knew how to keep things exciting.

Amos glanced at the number below.

There was something different this time. A large, floating board had appeared, and unlike the counter showing the number of remaining applicants, this one displayed names.

CURRENT NOTABLE APPLICANTS

1. Aurelia Maria Edward

2. Amos Eos Kyros

3. Chester Reinhart

4. Elodie Cassandra Markult

5. Willow Brew

6. Lucra

7. Mira Cedar Dale

8. Frida Frederica

9. Kael Veyron

10. Seraphine Dusk

Amos slowed.

"...Hm?"

His gaze drifted down the list.

Aurelia. No surprise there. The green-haired girl had excelled in the previous examinations, particularly in the mana test. Completely reasonable.

Then, Amos Eos Kyros.

"..."

He stared at his own name.

"...Why am I second?"

The board remained silent, and Amos frowned. He’d only been playing for a short time. Sure, he’d collected a few badges, defeated a monster, picked up the Gale Striders, grabbed more badges, acquired Hunter’s Eye, and then snatched up even more badges.

"..."

Amos looked away.

"Strange."

Third was Chester Reinhart. Amos had a faint memory of him—crimson hair, a booming presence, and the kind of guy who looked like he’d challenge a mountain just because someone claimed it was taller.

"Also makes sense."

Fourth was Elodie Cassandra Markult. Amos paused, taking in the sight of her pink hair. She was one of the twins, the one who carried herself with more open confidence.

"...Again, makes sense."

She had the kind of eyes that could convince someone to buy back their own shoes and thank her for the deal. In a test where alliances, trickery, bartering, fleeting advantages, and backstabbing were all fair game—she’d be downright terrifying.

Fifth.

Willow Brew, the commoner girl, stood out in Amos’s memory. Her performance was impressive—an excellent written examination, remarkable mana control, and a calm demeanor under pressure.

"Good for her."

Then his eyes moved lower.

Sixth.

Lucra.

Amos blinked.

"...Who?"

He continued.

Seventh.

Mira Cedar Dale.

"...Who?"

Eighth.

Frida Frederica.

"...Who?"

Amos stared at the three names.

Lucra.

Mira Cedar Dale.

Frida Frederica.

He searched his memory.

Nothing.

"..."

He had no clue who these people were. Amos tilted his head, wondering if they’d done well in the previous examinations. Maybe. With over a thousand applicants, he hadn’t exactly memorized everyone. Still—three names he’d barely noticed before were now among the most notable. Interesting. Very interesting. Then his eyes fell on the last two.

Kael Veyron.

Seraphine Dusk.

"..."

Amos stared.

"Who are these people?"

No memory. None at all. He hadn’t heard those names before—not in the written exam, not in the mana test, not even during the third trial. At least, not that he could recall. And yet, somehow, there they were—written the board.

Amos's eyes sharpened slightly.

"Hidden players?"

His excitement grew.

Maybe they’d been holding back on purpose.

Maybe their skills were just better for combat.

Maybe they had some strange magic.

Maybe they were survival experts.

Maybe—

Amos grinned.

"I LOVE IT."

His eyes returned to the board. Then he noticed something.

"Hm?"

He went over the list again—once, then twice—and his smile began to fade.

"Where's the Saint?"

Estelle Celeste, the Saint Candidate, was nowhere to be seen. Amos slowed his pace, puzzled. It was odd—during the mana examination, she had reached Layer Ninety-Six, her holy mana nothing short of extraordinary. Even he had noticed that. In every previous test, she’d ranked among the top contenders. Yet now, there was no sign of her. Amos lingered on the thought for several moments.

Then nodded.

"Actually, that's normal."

He resumed running.

"She's a Saint Candidate."

From what Amos gathered, Saint Candidates were—well—saintly. All about healing, protection, faith, and helping others. Definitely not the type to go around attacking random applicants for badges. A battle royale seemed like just about the worst kind of test for a pacifist. He pictured Estelle standing in the forest as injured applicants wandered up one by one. She healed them, they thanked her, and then more came. She healed them too, and again, and again, while everyone else quietly ran off with the badges.

"..."

Amos nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. She's probably running a hospital somewhere."

A remarkably accurate possibility.

Then, Amos noticed another missing name.

"...Edith?"

Edith Cassia Markult.

The quieter twin had done exceptionally well before, outshining most applicants. Yet her name was missing too. Amos noticed, then his eyes shifted to Elodie’s name—fourth place.

"...Ah. She's probably supporting her sister."

That made sense. Edith seemed quiet, not particularly interested in attention. Elodie, on the other hand, looked like she was born ready to take advantage of any competitive setting. If they were together, Edith was probably backing her up—healing, support magic, information, items, whatever her specialty was. Amos nodded.

"Reasonable."

He didn’t dwell on it any further.

His eyes drifted back to the strange names.

Lucra.

Mira Cedar Dale.

Frida Frederica.

Something about them felt off.

Why were they notable?

What had they done?

It was as if the simulation had heard his question, the board flickered, and small magical images appeared beside several names.

Amos’s eyes went wide.

Lucra.

A young woman stood in the middle of a ruined battlefield.

At first, she seemed human.

Then he saw it—the eyes, the faint draconic traits, the overwhelming destruction all around her.

Applicants were running for their lives.

Lucra pursued them.

No magic.

No elaborate technique.

She simply—

BOOM!

She lunged ahead, and Amos just watched.

"Oh."

The image shifted. Mira Cedar Dale, an elf with long ears and a calm stance, held a bow in her hands. She stood high atop a massive tree, watching as an applicant dashed through the forest below. She drew her bow, released, and the arrow curved midair, weaving between two trees before splitting into three. With a sharp click, the applicant’s badge was knocked away. A flash—and they were eliminated.

Amos's eyes widened slightly.

"That's cool."

The shifted again. Frida Frederica—a fox beastman with pointed ears and a swishing tail—stood there. Then, one Frida became two, two became four, four became eight. A group of applicants rushed in, attacking, but every strike hit nothing more than an illusion. The real Frida lounged on a tree branch behind them, smiling. In an instant, all their badges vanished—flash, flash, flash, flash. Amos came to a halt.

"..."

He stared at the board. Then slowly looked back toward the three names.

Lucra.

Dragonfolk.

Mira.

Elf.

Frida.

Fox beastman.

Amos's eyes gleamed.

"Oh."

The other races.

He’d always known Arianne Academy welcomed students from all nations and races.

Of course he had.

But knowing it in theory and witnessing it firsthand were two very different things.

A dragonfolk applicant dominating entire groups with sheer strength.

An elven archer picking off targets from unbelievable distances.

A fox beastman twisting the battlefield into a maze of illusions.

Amos couldn’t help but smile.

"...This year is stacked with a double c."

The player count changed again.

804

Then—

800

Then—

799

Applicants were vanishing fast. Really fast. the prominent board began to change.

CURRENT NOTABLE APPLICANTS

1. Aurelia Maria Edward

2. Amos Eos Kyros

3. Lucra

4. Chester Reinhart

5. Elodie Cassandra Markult

6. Mira Cedar Dale

7. Willow Brew

8. Frida Frederica

9. Kael Veyron

10. Seraphine Dusk

Amos blinked. Lucra had jumped to third.

"Fast."

Then,

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAR!

The rare monster roared again, and Amos froze. Right. Boss. Loot. Players. He’d been distracted by the leaderboard. Snapping his attention back to the ruins, he saw the purple chest icon pulsing. Hunter’s Eye lit up with signatures—seventeen... no, twenty-three now. Twenty-three contenders closing in. Amos’s grin came back.

"...Perfect."

His Gale Striders shimmered.

He paused for a moment,

glancing upward one final time—

at the player count.

775

He glanced at the notable names, the unfamiliar talents, the other races. At those who had once shone brightly but were now missing, and at those who had barely registered before yet were suddenly stealing the spotlight.

"...This is actually balanced."

He sounded almost emotional. High above, a professor watching his screen frowned.

"Why does he look like he's about to cry?"

Another professor adjusted his glasses.

"Cry of happiness perhaps."

On the screen, Amos smiled brightly.

"So many different builds."

Amos crouched low as the Gale Striders roared past. His gaze fixed on the rare-monster zone. Twenty-three contenders. One boss. An unknown item. And maybe—just maybe—a few big-name players in the mix. His grin spread wider.

"Alright."

FWOOOOOOOOOSH!

The ground exploded beneath him. Amos vanished toward the ruins.