Final Exams (1)

Academy professors were busy for all sorts of reasons. The students admitted to the academy were talents gathered from around the world, so most of them had strong egos and were still immature. Commoners were a bit better, but that varied case by case. It was simpler to just chalk it up to personality differences.

Managing the students was a tough job in itself, but fortunately, the professors weren't disrespected for their skills. If anyone tried, they'd be dragged straight to the arena. After that, it was just a subtle way to vent stress.

Very occasionally, a genius so overflowing with talent that they surpassed even the professors would show up. In those cases, the professors left it alone. It was the nation's job to handle them. They'd desperately try to recruit commoners, and for their own citizens, they'd trot them out as poster children while keeping an eye on them. So, the professors didn't face much stress managing students.

Usually, that is.

"Is this really the only way?"

"Or what? Got a better idea?"

"That's the problem—there isn't. It's the best option, but even the best feels like bullshit."

Marlboro Redka gave a wry smile at Yeonhwa's sharp criticism from the East. They'd done their best, but it still felt like bullshit. It perfectly matched their current predicament.

"They told me to watch my mouth, but you're the one spewing the filthiest words."

"Quiet, Sara. Don't tell me you don't think this is right too?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"... ..."

Sara clamped her mouth shut at Yeonhwa's clear rebuttal. She was thinking the exact same thing. But the lack of alternatives was the issue.

Marlboro sighed and spoke up. "We can't find another way. Let's be straight: who here can take Sivar one-on-one?"

"... ..."

"... ..."

No one answered Marlboro's question. They all knew it well. Almost no one could overpower Sivar in a one-on-one. If anyone could, it'd only be Lord Sherman or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lize Martina.

They'd realized this from the first time they met Sivar. The incident where Godin tried sneaking up on him as a prank and nearly got wrecked. Godin, aware of it himself, just wore an awkward expression.

Meanwhile, Marlboro continued. "It took all three of us to slow Sivar's attacks even a little. His strength is ridiculously overwhelming."

"And since then, he's learned techniques and all sorts of combat methods... so he's probably even stronger now."

"I saw him grab a Usk's blade tusks with his bare hands. My sword could barely scratch it."

"Magic won't work easily either. He took a bomb straight to the face during midterms and only his clothes burned."

As the professors assessed, Sivar had gone beyond a student of concern to a major object of interest. A balance-breaker, a mutant, an ecosystem destroyer—you name it. Any label fit.

"At least he attends classes well and gets along with others. If not for that..."

"I'd have submitted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my resignation and gone back home."

"Can't argue with that."

Normally, the biggest stress for professors came from political infighting. Delphoi Trash's case showed it—they often served as national figureheads, entangled in politics. Lately, tensions between nations had escalated, making things awkward among them too. They'd nearly gone that route themselves.

But Sivar's explosive arrival had made it all moot. They had to manage him first before any other issues.

"We should exclude Sivar from the evaluation. It'd be one thing if he were dumb, but I have a feeling he'll pull something weird again."

"Usually, if the body's strong, the brain's weak, right?"

"It's not that his brain's weak—he just doesn't use it. If his learning ability or intelligence were low, he wouldn't have survived in the wild."

Sara nailed it. Humans in the wild ranked at the bottom physically, endurance and throwing aside. They compensated with tools and smarts.

"When I bathed him before, his body was covered in scars. He wasn't strong from the start. He got strong."

"So he stopped using his brain once his body got tough."

"Otherwise, he wouldn't pull that insane crap."

Sivar's antics during midterms had been a shock and horror for the professors. Delphoi's scheme had backfired spectacularly, proving Sivar's cunning. And his dexterity was top-notch too. He'd fiddled with bombs to make a vest, charged in, and topped it off with Molotovs and a Meteor Storm. His adaptability was unreal.

"Is there really no other way? I came up with this, but it feels so stupid..."

"If you've got something better, speak up anytime. I don't mind."

"Honestly, I can't think of anything better either."

"We're not lacking, so no need to blame yourself."

Godin was right. It wasn't a lack of brains on their part. The problem was the sudden transfer of an unprecedented, utterly unreasonable student.

Marlboro glanced at the paper outlining the final exam format and sighed. He rubbed his temples and spoke. "Now I have to report this to the president... Wonder what he'll say."

What else could he say?

"This is... truly a shitty idea. Hilarious, though."

"... ..."

"If something weird happens despite all this, one apology letter won't cut it."

They were in for a thorough dressing-down. The silver lining was Lord's understanding. Sivar's power was so overwhelming that this was the only way to balance things.

"Still, looking closely, it's not that bad. It borrows the high-risk, high-reward format perfectly."

"Haha. R-right?"

"The students should buy into it... Good luck, then."

Lord didn't press the professors further. They had their grievances too. After all, he'd been the one to admit Sivar. Last time had been unfair, but they couldn't be faulted for this effort.

"Finals last a full week?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hope it goes smoothly. You've earned a break."

The professors bowed to Lord and left. Naturally, only Lord remained in the president's residence. He sighed at the piling paperwork, then examined the paper.

It was the plan the professors had just handed over.

"Not terrible... Treating people like weapons isn't unheard of."

Lord skimmed the plan and checked other reports. Plenty left to review.

"... ..."

Doing great, aren't they?

The president nodded at the report's contents. 'Definitely full of capable people.' He folded the report casually, thinking that.

If days blended into the same routine, time flew by. My situation was just like that.

After selling Jane to Godin(?) to boost affinity, nothing major happened. Wednesdays, I trained martial arts with Kara. Weekends, spars with Lize to hone my skills. Otherwise, I filled time with academy classes. Occasionally bought stocks too.

"Brother Sivar! Please bless me! I lost again!"

"Beat it."

"Please! If this keeps up, I'll get chewed out by you again!"

Friday morning. I shoved aside the whining Antonio—who'd lost on stocks again—and sat down. Serves you right for not sticking to my picks. Why chase weird ones? Even after I tipped him off lately, he still did this. Pulled out early from nerves or whatever.

"First time seeing Sivar tell someone to beat it. How annoying were you?"

"Yeah. Only one other time, excluding that guy."

Kara and Luna's conversation. They frowned at me brushing off Antonio.

"One other? Who?"

"The saint."

"Oh."

That time, I felt real danger. But it was true, so no excuses.

Morning noise aside, no big deal. Whether Antonio despaired or not was his problem.

"Finals start next week? Break right after, right?"

"Not a break. Heard there's a freshman banquet."

"Right, the banquet. Sounds annoying. Gotta go?"

Finals usually led to break, but first semester differed. The freshman banquet with dignitaries ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from every nation, as mentioned before. A unique event.

'Plus, new skins to check out.'

Kara's dancer outfit debuted at the banquet. Less revealing than her ritual one. And the protagonist—Luna's—banquet dress too. A standard gown, I recalled.

"Kara sis is Tatar princess. Shouldn't you attend?"

"Sigh. Princess only when convenient? You'll go, right?"

"Just to watch. Slip out if boring."

Luna glanced my way after saying that. My turn now.

"You going too, Sivar? Crowds might suck. Skip if you want."

"Sweets."

"Huh?"

"Lots of sweets?"

The event mattered, but so did the national desserts all in one place. Perfect excuse, and if trouble brewed, I could crash. Prep for that.

'Build-up, I guess?'

Build-up or not, I'd eaten too many sweets lately. They were just too good.

"Sweets... gotta be tons, right? Huge cake maybe? You know, sis?"

"First time for me. Ask Grace?"

"Why me?"

Perfect timing—Grace approached, Yeonju (attachment doll? Nah, friend) beside her.

Kara seized the moment, explaining the banquet. Grace listened quietly, then replied with her usual confidence.

"Of course. Sivar, you'll find desserts beyond imagination. I recommend attending."

"Yeah."

I nodded, side-eyeing Yeonju. Her expression blank, unreadable. She'd attend too, bound to clash with Eastern VIPs. More like the VIPs being rude. All scripted, of course.

Yeonju doesn't know that...

As that thought crossed my mind—

"While we're at it, we should get you fitted too. Banquet needs formal wear."

"Huh? Formal?"

"Yes. I'll prepare something dashing. This weekend work?"

No skin off my nose. Money and time aplenty. I nodded; Grace's smile deepened. Thrilled, apparently.

"Guess I'll tag along?"

"Pardon?"

"Wanna see Sivar in formal wear."

But her smile faded quick. Kara butted in naturally, ruining the duo time.

"Might as well buy other clothes too. Always in ratty tees and shorts. Wastes your face and build. Agree?"

"Uh... I can go alone."

"Just curious. Check if I need anything too."

You just need your dancer fit. That's plenty.

While I thought that, Kara and Grace bickered fiercely. Grace wanted one-on-one; Kara crashed. Grace couldn't justify excluding her and conceded. Weekend meet satisfied her.

"So transparent."

"... ..."

Ignored Kara's mutter—in Tatar, so Grace missed it.

"Attention, everyone. As announced, finals start next week. I'll cover the basics today—focus up."

Homeroom hit; Marlboro explained the exam. Despite midterm chaos, core unchanged. But 'core' meant minor tweaks.

"Exam runs about 5-6 days. Theme: occupation and siege warfare. Hold the castle long-term or seize all enemy points to win."

Finals mirrored countless games. Teams split into two, subdividing into squads per team leader. No elimination this time—faint triggered shield, same as before. But shielded meant instant evac, quick heal, and respawn.

"Three occupation points total. Each respawn near one; castle in the middle. Resupply or craft weapons at points. Up to you."

"Resupply? Wait—meals too?"

"Correct. Handle food yourselves during."

Cut supply lines, starve 'em. Seemed simple, but the castle complicated it. Longer hold, exponentially more points. Guard outer points and starve the castle, or siege normally—your call.

"Finally, siege weapons. Cannons and more scattered everywhere. Stronger farther from points, but heavier."

Recon key: block or intercept before they arm up. Simple on surface, endless strategies. Occupation's charm.

'What about me, though?'

Overwhelming power rendered it moot. I'd step in, and survival trumps points. Others likely thought the same. Curious when they'd spill.

"Teams now. Team A: Luna Estel, Grace Aria del Berche..."

Marlboro read the roster. I listened quietly. Not on A? Then B.

Team A already buzzed.

"Team B: Kara Mayer Hector's Daughter, Antonio... (skipped)... that's it."

"?"

What? Where's my name?

Not on A or B. Thought I misheard. But Kara raised her hand, questioning.

"Professor? You didn't say Sivar."

"Was getting to that."

Marlboro eyed me oddly. Complicated expression. He exhaled sharply and spoke softly.

"Sivar won't participate as a student. Instead..."

One thought hit me.

"...he'll join as a siege weapon or mercenary."

Balancing must've been a nightmare.