FVN Chapter 63
Chapter 63
As the academic evaluation entered its final phase, there was one unexpected industry that saw a boom—none other than the quarry business. The climax of the final test of the term, The Battle with the Stone Troll, required an enormous amount of high-quality marble and sturdy rocks, which the academy purchased in bulk from the quarries.
However, while the noble owners and merchants managing these quarries enjoyed this prosperous period, the laborers saw no such benefits. In fact, this time of year marked an increase in overwork and exhaustion for them.
Boom! Boom!
The quarry was a basic, under-equipped facility with only pickaxes, massive hammers, and large iron spikes scattered around. Workers were ceaselessly chipping away at a massive stone mountain, cutting it down bit by bit.
"Hit it in order! Don't slack off on your form!"
"Hey, you idiot! Stop screwing around! You moron!"
"Don't let your guard down! One mistake, and you'll be the next one crushed!"
The foreman's shouts filled the air. In a job where one wrong move could mean death, tempers were understandably short. The workers weren't bad people—they were just focused on their survival and getting paid.
Suddenly—
Crack!
"That idiot!"
One of the new workers had made a mistake. He had struck the stone the wrong way, causing a fissure that began to spread dangerously across the rock face.
Rumble!
"Ah... oh no!"
"Stop standing there like an idiot! Run, you fools!!"
The foreman's gruff voice echoed. Safety protocols were in place for such accidents, and the only thing to do was to run for safety as fast as possible.
But as the workers scattered—
"W-Wait...!"
One of the inexperienced laborers froze in fear, his legs giving out beneath him.
"Gus...!"
A colleague tried to help, but it was too late. The rocks were already falling.
Boom! Boom!
Massive boulders came crashing down, and the workers could only watch in horror as it seemed certain that their comrade would be crushed.
But then—
Grab!
A man pulled the frozen worker out of harm’s way just in time, narrowly avoiding the falling rocks.
"...Huh?"
"Snap out of it. How long are you going to sit there?"
"...I, thank you."
"Don't mention it. This job clearly isn't for you. Find something else."
"Y-Yeah, thanks..."
The worker nodded weakly, clearly shaken by the close call.
"Rohan! Thanks a lot—if it weren't for you, we’d be picking up a corpse right now!"
"Not a corpse. There wouldn’t even be a body to collect."
"God, could you stop with the morbid jokes?"
"Grateful? Then maybe throw in some extra pay."
Rohan, the gruff worker who had saved the man, went right back to work without missing a beat. Despite the near-death incident, the labor resumed as if nothing had happened, an eerie reflection of the harsh reality these laborers faced.
Accidents like this were common in their line of work. With no union and no concern for workers' rights, nobody cared if an accident happened. If anything, some people were probably pleased that the fallen rocks meant the job would be finished faster.@@@@
Crack!
But Ihan didn’t stop. Instead, he pushed harder, swinging his pickaxe with even more force.
Each swing required every ounce of his strength and focus. But as he continued, something shifted inside him—his body began to move instinctively, and his mind emptied.
At that moment, Ihan reached a state of complete immersion.
‘Here it comes.’
He could feel it—something every warrior only experienced once in a lifetime if they were lucky.
He had entered a state of mūgō, or selflessness.
Completely immersed in his task, Ihan lost all sense of self, focused only on the rhythm of his movements. He didn’t know where this would lead him, but he trusted in the years of training and the countless efforts he had poured into his body.
Thud!
Crack!
Boom!
His movements became fluid, his body following a natural rhythm, and within him, a small yet significant change occurred.
Vrum...
A faint, nearly imperceptible shift in the flow of his body.
And with that—
Slice!
The best possible outcome.
“...Huh?”
As Ihan’s eyes refocused, he nearly lost his balance.
"Hey, Rohan! Take it easy—you’re going to kill yourself at this rate."
"How long have I been like this?"
"Huh? Not even a minute."
"A minute..."
“You sure you’re okay? You don’t want to head back?”
The foreman was clearly worried about losing his star worker, but Ihan just looked down at the rock he had been working on.
‘It was worth the challenge after all.’
The stone he had been chipping away at, previously too hard to break, now lay perfectly split, as if it had been cleanly chopped.
“What the hell? How did you do this?”
"Rohan, what did you do to this stone?"
“...Just lucky, I guess.”
His pickaxe hadn’t just cracked the stone—it had split it cleanly into several pieces, like cutting firewood. Ihan shrugged nonchalantly.
“Just happened that way.”
On the twelfth night of the academic evaluation, Ihan, having completed his own version of “bulking up,” was ready for whatever lay ahead.