Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord
Chapter 84: Guinea Pig(1)

Chapter 84: Guinea Pig(1)

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

The rhythmic thudding of wooden weapons colliding echoed throughout the room like a percussion of war drums.

It was a sound sharp and loud enough to sting the ears, followed closely by the grunts of clashing students, their bodies twisting and lunging in practiced chaos.

Each impact reverberated through the spacious hall of the Arcane Bloom Academy’s training chamber, painting a battlefield that was equal and elegant.

Just another day.

And yet, Steve stood there—confused.

He blinked once, then again, the early-morning haze still thick in his mind. Apparently, the weapon combat class had started earlier than usual.

But his attention was more fixated on the strings.

His eyes flipped side to side, tracking them like a hawk.

A slow smile crept up his face.

’Wait a damn minute... Does this mean...?’ he thought, lips parting slightly.

It clicked.

He had stronger willpower than everyone in the room. That had to be it. The threads must’ve been connected to some mental resistance test— and so, this meant control.

As that realization took root, Steve couldn’t help himself. His gaze dropped to his own hand. He clenched it into a loose fist, curling and uncurling his fingers like he was holding something sacred.

’Damn... Is this really my potential?’

The door behind him clicked shut as he turned, his steps now measured, casual, almost cocky.

He made his way toward the others, blending into the sidelines of the bustling class.

There, he dropped down into a squat, pulled out his weapons—a pair of wooden daggers—and set them beside him with a soft clack. His lips curled upward in satisfaction.

Steve remained close to the crowd but deliberately avoided the front lines. He had no intention of being picked to spar. Not today. Not when he had just confirmed the activation of his ability.

He wasn’t exactly sure how it worked—or how to control it yet—and the last thing he wanted was to blow his cover by showing his magic skills in public.

Besides, the Queen Witcher already had her eyes on him.

And that was not the kind of attention Steve was looking for right now.

He groaned under his breath, shifting uncomfortably as his gaze wandered to the dueling students.

Among them was someone familiar—Dina—his roommate.

She moved with practiced elegance, her wooden sword slicing through the air like a limb she’d been born with.

Her posture, her footwork, her fluidity—it was unreal. She dodged the incoming strikes of her opponent with casual precision, every movement economical, every dodge a statement.

It was like watching a professional dancer who just happened to be wielding a weapon.

Steve squinted, nodding inwardly.

Yeah... She definitely had years of training.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been forced into combat drills since she was old enough to walk.

Her balance alone gave it away. And yet, Steve wasn’t doing too bad either.

His own body had developed noticeably since arriving at the Arcane Bloom Academy.

He wasn’t bulky or absurdly muscular, but his frame had become sharper, stronger—sculpted by weeks of intense reps and relentless training.

His movements were smoother, his stance more grounded. He was learning. Slowly, but definitely.

His chosen weapons? The same pair of wooden daggers now resting beside him.

They’d been handed to him during his first day of combat training, and he’d stuck with them since. He’d learned the ins and outs—how to feint, how to flip them, how to get in and out of range. And while he wasn’t perfect yet, he wasn’t bad either.

Today, though, wasn’t about performance. Not for him.

He was here for a different reason.

He needed to test something. His control.

’How many people can I influence at a go?’

Could he even control anyone at all?

Were there side effects?

All of those were questions, and today, answers would begin to surface. He could feel it. Already, things were going far better than expected.

All he had to do now was sit back and observe. Study his peers. Learn their strengths, their flaws. These were his real opponents—people he’d eventually have to surpass if he wanted to become the strongest in the academy.

And if he did that?

He’d get what he wanted.

The Queen Witcher.

And when that day came... he’d tame her.

’No way in hell am I letting that opportunity slip through my fingers.’

The voice of the instructor cut through his thoughts like a blade.

"Get up! Get your guard up! That’s not a weapon—that’s a glorified stick, and you’re waving it like it’s a dead fish!"

Steve didn’t have to look to know who it was. Her voice was legendary—strict, sarcastic, and terrifying.

Still, he kept his focus on Dina, who was now locked in combat with another girl wielding a similar wooden sword.

The duel escalated.

Dina ducked a wild swing with ease, sidestepped another, and then, in one fluid motion, glided forward and raised her sword in a powerful arc. She halted the blade less than an inch from her opponent’s eye.

A silent gasp rippled through the room.

The other girl, startled, crumbled onto her butt with a defeated groan.

"I win." Dina said, flashing a calm smile.

From the edge of the sparring area, the instructor—a tall woman in a long, dark blue coat that shimmered with subtle enchantments—clapped once, twice, slowly.

"Very good, Dina." she said.

"Your technique is as flawless as ever."

Dina bowed, her breath steady. Her opponent—Rose—bowed too, though less confidently.

"Rose..." the instructor turned to the defeated girl.

"you have to improve. If you freeze like that on a battlefield, you won’t live long enough to regret it."

Rose nodded.

"Yes, ma’am."

"Good. I hope you’ve learned something from this fight."

The instructor now turned to the rest of the class, her voice rising.

"Alright! Who’s next? Choose yourselves—or I’ll choose for you."

A low murmur passed through the crowd as Dina and Rose returned to their seats.

Nobody moved.

Nobody volunteered.

Steve crossed his arms, locking his eyes directly on the instructor.

He’d seen this trick in movies in his previous life.

Never break eye contact. That was the key.

As long as he stared at her, no matter how obvious he looked, she’d skip over him. It worked every time.

Eye contact = invisibility cloak. So far, it hadn’t failed him.

He nodded to himself. Just stay still, stay locked in. She’ll look away eventually. I’m a shadow.

But then—

Her eyes paused.

Right on him.

Their gazes locked.

He didn’t blink.

Not once.

Not even when her lips parted and she tilted her head.

A flicker of amusement touched her features.

’A boy...’ she seemed to think aloud.

She turned her head... and then— She raised a hand, right at Steve and pointed.

"You. There. Come up."

Steve froze.

’Huh...? It didn’t work?’

For a second, he glanced behind him, hoping—praying—she meant someone else.

And indeed, a girl seated just behind him was rising.

"Me?" she asked, startled.

"Yes, you." the instructor confirmed.

Steve exhaled in relief, a smug, almost giggly smile curling his lips.

’Hah! She almost got me there. For a second, I thought—’

"And you." the instructor suddenly cut in again.

"The boy."

Steve’s soul left his body.

’Oh, god fucking damn it...’

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