A Knight Gets the Autumn Blues (6)
The gates of the Royal Academy opened.
A vast crowd came surging in, people who looked ready to spill through the doors at any moment. This year, however, had been one incident after another.
"Please present your identification."
"I'll need you to fill out the forms."
"You may not move about in groups of four or more."
Unlike the day before, the conditions for setting foot in the Academy were anything but lenient. A few grumbled and let their displeasure show, only to wilt, drop flat, or simply bolt the moment they met a guard's eyes, twin flames burning in them.
And those who ran—
"Suspicious! Seize them!"
The response was immediate. Every risk that might yet arise was being cut off before it could begin. The Academy—no, the royal house—was on a hair trigger, and anyone with eyes could see it. Watching that, those who had come nursing even a slightly crooked intention turned around and left. Pick a quarrel here, and one might well be marked by the crown and by no small number of noble houses.
Then—
"Here. My identification."
"...!!"
"Ah, I have my examinee's certificate as well. Where should examinees go?"
"Ah, th-that would be..."
Gulp.
The guard swallowed on a dry throat.
What is this woman?
She carried a dignity one expected to feel only in the great noble houses. The short golden hair and the lovely face were striking enough on their own, but the longer he looked at the uncommon poise rolling off her, the tighter his nerves drew.
...He could tell at a glance.
She is no woman of ordinary station.
The identification itself listed her as a commoner, but that could not possibly be true.
Suspicious...
Nothing on the papers was amiss, and yet the guard's instinct rang an alarm. This required an investigation. It had to—
"There's nothing strange, is there? You agree, don't you?"
A soft hiss of magic washed over him.
"...Ah. Yes, of course."
The guard realized he had been mistaken. Yes—she was a commoner, merely an extraordinary woman, and that was why such dignity poured from her. With that revelation, he opened the way.
"I hope your examination goes well."
"Thank you, soldier."
She smiled with her eyes and passed through the gate at once. It was a smile of pure benevolence, and it only left the guard looking more dazed.
"...Hah."
She had not been long past the main gate before the warm smile vanished and her face went blank. It was the face of a doll. Anyone who saw it would have wondered how an expression could change so quickly. Then she made her way to a stretch of ground where few people passed, drew a cross from inside her clothes, and held it to her ear.
"Infiltration successful. But I doubt I'll be able to report again until the examination is over."
...... a command, too faint to catch ......
"Yes. I understand. I'll dispose of it at once."
Catching that barely audible order, she immediately crushed the red bead set into the center of the cross. She ground it to powder. Had anyone known the bead was worth three years' living expenses for a household of four, more than a few faces would have gone blank with the loss. The woman, however, pulverized it as thoroughly as if a tool were only a tool, then walked on as though nothing at all had happened.
Whooo...
The fragments scattered on the autumn wind.
Like sand.
Candidates for admission to the Academy had gathered in considerable numbers. No fewer than thirty thousand had come. A spectacle, if ever there was one.
But did you know? Even that figure of thirty thousand was what remained after screening upon screening. Not one of them had failed to be called a genius, or a prodigy, back in their own village.
Well, in a way it was obvious. There were other academies, but this was the Pendragon Royal Academy—an institution that borrowed Pendragon's name, and one patronized by the royal house and the great nobles alike. Get in, and merely graduate, and a smooth road opened before you. A gateway to success. Whatever anyone else might say, entering the Academy was something to be proud of.
...Not that everyone would be able to enter.
"They say if even a thousand of this lot get in, they'll call the day a bumper harvest."
"Isn't that laying it on a bit thick? There are thirty thousand of us. And every one of them got called a genius or a prodigy back home."
"...Country bumpkin."
"You're from the sticks too. What's your problem?"
"I'm a bumpkin, sure, but you're a bumpkin with no sense, so you're the dumber one. Can't think past your nose."
"Why, you—!"
"You really think the top student in a village of fifty or eighty people is the same as the top student in a city of ten thousand?"
"......"
The examinee who had been about to boil over went slack-jawed and blinked.
"Sure, the countryside isn't entirely without talent. Lions and eagles are born on the open plain, so a village can spit out something that wrecks the whole ecosystem. But I'm telling you, cases like that are very rare."
"...Well, yeah."
"Even among these thirty thousand, there'll be plenty of nobodies. A pond full of frogs at the bottom of a well. Some of them are swaggering around right now like they're the best there is, but once the exam starts, a lot of them are going to despair. So keep your head on straight. Don't get cocky and end up bawling."
"......You little—are you worrying about me, or nagging? Pick one."
Just as that nameless examinee said, they had been chosen and chosen again, and still the rabble remained. There was the eldest son of a nouveau-riche house who had bought his eligibility by greasing a noble's palm, and the clueless young aristocrat so pampered by his family that he truly believed himself a genius. All of them would fail. The Academy of the present day was widely judged to have fallen far from its former glory, and even so, it had no history of accepting those whose talent fell short.
And amid all that—
"Ah—can you hear my voice?"
Through a magic item, a magical article lately favored even by the dean and called a loudspeaker, a voice carried to all thirty thousand. Since when had she been standing there? A beautiful girl, her violet hair suiting her perfectly, stood upon the platform.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, examinees. I am Karin Alesia de Guinevere, currently serving as president of the student council of the Pendragon Royal Academy. I am one year your senior, and should you be admitted, I will be your senior from next year as well."
A murmur rose.
Guinevere. The moment the young lady of a great house appeared, half the examinees were crushed beneath the name, another half spellbound by the girl's beauty, and the rest caught between wonder and a tangle of other feelings. One thing was clear: every eye was on her.
"Ah—if you're wondering how a first-year came to be council president, the second- and third-year seniors are busy building their records, so a first-year usually inherits the office from the second semester. It doesn't carry any great authority, but if you join the council you can make the acquaintance of professors from many faculties, the instructors, and promising students. Should you enroll later, I recommend taking an interest."
Even with thirty thousand gazes gathered on her, the girl looked entirely at ease. Born with a gift for speech and for politics, she weathered other people's attention without effort. That made the crowd easy to hold, and she went on explaining, announcing one weighty matter after another.
"—First, the entrance examination is scheduled to begin at nine in the morning."
"—Keep your identification and your examinee's certificate on you at all times. To prevent proxy testing, we'll be checking them at regular intervals."
"—During the exam, numerous distinguished guests will be visiting to watch their future juniors. We wouldn't want them to see anything embarrassing, would we?"
"—Distinguish yourselves, and you may be scouted on the spot by one of the great territorial houses. So do your very best."
Words brimming with dreams and hope. They knew it was sweet talk, and still no one could deny that it stirred their ambition.
And so—
"Lastly, allow me to introduce those who lead the student council with me. For your reference, the council will also be assisting with the examination. Please welcome them with a big round of applause."
With that, the young lady of Guinevere stepped down from the platform. The explanation was finished; she seemed ready to end things with the introductions and nothing more. The examinees were not terribly interested, but they meant to applaud all the same. These were people who would be working hard on their behalf, so of course—
"—..."
...And yet, in the next moment, not a single examinee clapped. Man and woman alike, they only stared, eyes wide and vacant, at the girl who had appeared.
Step. Step.
Golden hair that swayed as she walked, and blue eyes like emeralds inlaid in pale stone. Skin fairer and cleaner than white jade. An air, and a mana, so mysterious they hardly seemed real. All of it left them staring blankly at the girl.
"H-hello, I'm Irene Windler. E-everyone, g-good... luck on the exam."
—A fairy had appeared.
She was a living thing of impossible beauty, and they could only gape.
I will pass, no matter what!
The time has come to stake my life...!
In the instant more than nine-tenths of the examinees steeled themselves to pass, it was a demonstration of just how tremendous the power of beauty could be. That resolve became firewood, and their determination caught flame. They would enter this Academy, no matter what. Even if only to exchange a single word with that senior.
...Just as they were firming that resolve—
"Ah, it seems the professor serving as advisor to the student council has just arrived as well. Everyone, a round of applause...?"
For the first time, the young lady of Guinevere—so confident until now—lost her words. Her voice trembled badly. They were just wondering why, when—
Thud!
The moment he showed himself on the platform, the examinees had no choice but to understand her stunned reaction.
"—Professor Alfredo says he isn't feeling well. So I've agreed to stand in this seat, for today only."
"......"
"Answer."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Lady Karin Guinevere answered like a recruit fresh to his unit, startled out of her skin. She had even dropped the loudspeaker.
And the man who had set the young lady of Guinevere to shaking—
"What are you looking at—?"
"........"
The moment his gaze touched them, every last examinee dropped their eyes. His mere appearance pressed terror into all of them. He kept a presence and a viciousness far too overwhelming to casually call a person, and even the light in his eyes gleamed, baleful.
Why in the world was a creature that looked ready to fold an orc's spine, or a troll's, standing in the Academy?
To those who stood there trembling—
"Consider this a warning. I had better not find any of you examinees shameless enough to dump trash in the street. In particular, any examinee who has left something like glass lying around had better turn themselves in immediately. If you don't, and this instructor catches you later, that very day I'll fold your spine—...no. I'll hand down a severe demerit."
"......"
"Answer."
"Yes, sir!!"
......The examinees answered from the heart. Which stood to reason. No one wanted a folded spine.
And then—
Drip. Drip...
"......"
At the word glass, one woman broke into a cold sweat, her pupils quaking. She told herself it might be coincidence and cautiously lifted her head.
......His gaze, turned on her, did not seem like a mistake at all.
And so began the entrance examination later judged, in the entire history of the Academy, to be the one in which the examinees kept the best order—and picked up the most trash.