The "legitimate" stamp from the Awakener Association was a temporary reprieve, but it did little to appease the powerful guilds. If anything, it seemed to stoke their frustration. Grandmaster Lee Jin-ho of the Lionheart Guild wasn't known for patience, and his S-rank pride had been thoroughly bruised by an F-rank's audacious success.
The political maneuvering shifted. Lionheart, unable to discredit Dream Weaver through official channels, decided to take a more direct route. It started with very public challenges, issued through Awakener forums and direct messages to Min-jun's newly established guild communication channels. They were aggressive, condescending, and impossible to ignore.
"Dream Weaver," one post read, obviously from a Lionheart sub-guild, "your 'innovative methods' are cute. But real power is proven in the ring. We challenge you to a public exhibition match. Your 'leader' against our best B-rank. If you decline, your 'legitimacy' will be questioned by the public."
Min-jun brought the challenge to his team. So-yeon looked terrified. "A public match? Against Lionheart? Min-jun-ssi, they'll crush us! What if they hurt you badly?"
Chul-soo remained stoic, but his knuckles were white where he gripped his shield. "It's a trap. They'll choose an opponent specifically designed to counter your style."
Ji-won, usually timid, bit her lip. "But if we refuse... the rumors will start again. That we're a fluke."
Min-jun knew they were right. It was a trap. Lionheart wouldn't pick just any B-rank. They'd pick someone who could exploit his F-rank limitations, someone with immense raw power, or an exotic skill. But he also knew that refusing wasn't an option. Dream Weaver's reputation was built on defying expectations. This was their chance to prove they weren't just a flash in the pan.
"We accept," Min-jun stated, his voice firm, his resolve unwavering. He sent the reply through the official guild channels, much to the shock of the Lionheart challenger.
The news spread like wildfire. The "F-rank Prodigy" versus a Lionheart B-rank in a public exhibition match. The hype was immense. Bets were placed, opinions were polarized, and the major Awakener media outlets began to salivate. This was the kind of drama they lived for.
Min-jun spent every waking moment, and every dreaming moment, preparing. His dream training was relentless, focusing on pure, unadulterated combat simulations against a myriad of B-rank opponents, trying to anticipate who Lionheart would throw at him. He honed his short blades, his agility reaching dizzying new heights.
Kim Min-jun
* Rank: F
* Level: 25
* Strength: 38
* Agility: 65
* Stamina: 45
* Mana: 25
* Unique Skill: Lucid Dream Training (F-Rank) - Further improved processing speed and memory recall within dreams. Can now briefly enhance reaction time and provide minor insight into opponent's skill patterns in real-world combat ("Tactical Flow Foresight"). Current Focus: High-Rank Counter-Offensive, Environment Manipulation through movement.
The day of the match arrived. The specially constructed Awakener Arena was packed, buzzing with a frenzied energy. Every major guild leader, every prominent Awakener journalist, and countless curious spectators filled the stands. Grandmaster Lee Jin-ho himself sat in the VIP box, a smug look on his face, flanked by his top lieutenants.
As Min-jun walked out, the crowd roared. Some cheered, some jeered, but all eyes were on the small F-rank. He wore simple, dark training gear, his short blades sheathed discreetly at his back. So-yeon, Chul-soo, and Ji-won stood proudly at the entrance to the arena, their faces a mixture of nerves and fierce loyalty.
Lionheart's champion emerged from the opposite tunnel. He was a powerfully built man, a few years older than Min-jun, with a confident, almost arrogant stride. This was Kwon Tae-ho, a B-rank Berserker.
Kwon Tae-ho
* Rank: B
* Level: 30
* Strength: 45
* Agility: 25
* Stamina: 40
* Mana: 30
* Skill: Berserker Rage (B-Rank) - Temporarily and significantly boosts Strength and Stamina, while reducing pain sensitivity. Causes reckless aggression. Higher levels can induce minor regeneration.
Tae-ho was a classic Lionheart fighter: overwhelming force, direct attacks, and a skill that pushed him beyond normal human limits. His Berserker Rage would make him incredibly dangerous, impervious to pain, and capable of devastating blows. This was exactly the kind of direct power Min-jun's evasion and precision were designed to counter, but it was also the kind of raw force that could end a fight with a single mistake.
"You really showed up, F-rank," Tae-ho sneered, cracking his knuckles, his aura of raw power beginning to emanate from him. "Hope you brought a good healer. You're gonna need it."
Min-jun simply drew his short blades, the dull gleam of the steel a stark contrast to Tae-ho's overt displays of power.
The referee signaled the start. Tae-ho immediately activated his Berserker Rage. His muscles visibly swelled, veins bulging, and a faint crimson glow enveloped him. He charged, a human battering ram, his speed surprising for his build.
Min-jun didn't meet the charge head-on. He danced. He weaved, a blur of motion, his short blades acting as extensions of his evasive movements. He slipped under Tae-ho's wild, powerful swings, ducked beneath sweeping attacks, and spun away from thunderous stomps that cracked the arena floor.
The crowd watched in awe. Tae-ho was a whirlwind of destruction, but Min-jun was a phantom, impossibly fast, impossibly elusive. His dual blades flickered, landing precise, shallow cuts on Tae-ho's exposed limbs and torso. They weren't deep, not enough to stop a Berserker, but they were distracting, irritating.
"Stand still and fight!" Tae-ho roared, frustration creeping into his voice as he missed yet another crushing blow. His rage was building, but his accuracy was suffering.
Min-jun was using his "Tactical Flow Foresight," that brief, intuitive flash of insight from his dreams, to read Tae-ho's movements, predicting his next strike, and sliding into the perfect position to dodge or counter. He wasn't just reacting; he was pre-acting.
He began to target Tae-ho's joints – knees, elbows, shoulders – not to sever, but to disrupt. He'd slash at a hamstring, force Tae-ho to stumble, then pivot and strike at a wrist, hoping to momentarily destabilize his stance. Each precise cut, while not deeply injuring, cumulatively worked to chip away at Tae-ho's mobility and balance.
Tae-ho was getting desperate. He channeled more mana into his Berserker Rage, his aura flaring violently. He stomped the ground, sending a shockwave that Min-jun easily leaped over. Then, in a fit of pure fury, Tae-ho unleashed a flurry of rapid, uncoordinated punches, seemingly trying to simply overwhelm the air around Min-jun.
This was his chance. Min-jun had drilled this exact scenario against berserker simulations in his dreams. He didn't avoid the punches. Instead, he moved into the flurry, a controlled chaos. His blades moved like lightning, parrying one fist, deflecting another, and then, using the momentum of Tae-ho's own wild swings, he slipped inside his guard.
He targeted Tae-ho's chest with a lightning-fast thrust of his left blade, aiming for the sternum – a strike that wouldn't kill, but would deliver maximum impact. Simultaneously, his right blade slashed across Tae-ho's exposed bicep. Tae-ho roared, not from pain, but from the sudden, unexpected impact that rattled his entire frame and momentarily disrupted his Berserker Rage.
As Tae-ho stumbled back, gasping, his crimson aura flickering, Min-jun didn't hesitate. He completed his maneuver with a swift, powerful leg sweep, hitting Tae-ho's shin with the flat of his boot. Tae-ho, already off-balance and momentarily stunned, crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, his Berserker Rage fading as he lay there, winded and defeated.
The arena went silent. Then, a roar, louder than any before, erupted. The "Blank Slate," the F-rank, had just decisively beaten a B-rank Berserker from the Lionheart Guild, not by overwhelming power, but by sheer, impossible skill. The crowd was on its feet, screaming Min-jun's name.
Grandmaster Lee Jin-ho's face in the VIP box was a mask of furious disbelief, his smugness utterly gone, replaced by a cold, calculating rage. He slammed his fist on the railing, splintering the wood. This wasn't just an F-rank winning; it was a direct challenge to his guild's philosophy, to his very authority.
Min-jun stood in the center of the arena, his short blades sheathed, breathing heavily but steadily. He looked towards the VIP box, meeting Lee Jin-ho's furious gaze with a calm, unwavering stare. The message was clear: Dream Weaver was here to stay, and they wouldn't back down. The challenge had been answered. But Min-jun knew this was just the beginning. Lionheart would not let this insult stand. The real war had just begun.