End-of-Term Evaluation (1)
"Boo!"
Rounding the corner by the physical training room, Senia jumped out without fail, a mischievous grin plastered across her face in an attempt to startle me.
"..."
"Aw, come on. You're no fun. You don't even flinch anymore. Anyway, good to see you! As always."
God, seriously...
How on earth was I supposed to ignore her like this? For days now, every time Senia caught sight of me, she trailed behind, begging for just one spar. I knew full well she wasn't originally this combative of a person, but what was I supposed to do?
"I mean, you used to get completely rattled by a cheap scare like that. How did someone like you manage to beat Sylvia?"
"..."
"That's all I'm curious about. How did you train to beat Sylvia in such a short amount of time? Just tell me that, and I swear I'll leave you alone. Deal?"
Even the slightest gesture I made served as a clue for her sharp deductions. If I tried to spin a lie right now, she would see straight through it and turn it into a trap to back me into a corner. Her razor-sharp intuition hadn't caught Goden's eye for nothing. In practice, her probing was an attack that was impossible to parry.
Senia stubbornly stuck to my side, repeating the same plea once more.
"Come on, won't you spar with me just once? Seriously, I've been plenty patient. It's not like I'm gonna eat you alive, geez."
I had run off earlier out of fear she might catch onto something, but I never imagined it would lead to this kind of persistent headache. No, regardless of the reason, the most crucial thing was never showing a hint of my past on the surface. If it had been anyone else, I could have shaken them off with coarse language or harsh insults, but that wouldn't work on Senia in the slightest.
So... I decided to say only what was strictly necessary.
"From my perspective, you make me uncomfortable."
Nothing good could come from getting close to her, and having her follow me around only put me in a bind.
"...Nothing remarkable."
Except for the addition of one more mana color.
Michelle had continually polished her magic across multiple disciplines, incorporating the practice routines recommended during the guest lectures. Yet her mind remained unsettled, troubled by the single entry that remained starkly empty.
Her Unique Magic. With her heart set on graduating as early as humanly possible, coaxing her unique magic to sprout, training it, and seeing it bloom to full fruition was an absolute necessity.
Those around her tried to reassure her that she was doing well enough as she was, or cautioned that she was rushing too headlong into things. But she couldn't afford to slow down. She was currently running a freezing containment device out of pocket to facilitate an autopsy on the student who had leaped to her death, which had already drained most of her personal funds. To make matters worse, the children at the orphanage had grown considerably and reached the age where they needed to attend school. Beyond basic subsidies, substantial sums were required for clothing, food, and schooling expenses, even with the maids pitching in to mend and tailor their garments.
All of this only fueled Michelle's growing impatience.
"Haa... What am I supposed to do...?"
Her unique magic showed no sign of awakening, and her status as a mere student with no practical experience fighting demonic beasts held her back at every turn. She desperately wished someone could lend her a hand.
Michelle's blue eyes lingered on the itemized expense sheet prepared by the maids before her fingers crumpled the parchment in quiet frustration.
Just then, voices drifted from an adjacent alleyway.
"From my perspective, you make me uncomfortable."
"What's there to be uncomfortable about? A spar is just..."
"Do you honestly believe that? Your prying, and those questions that sound an awful lot like veiled threats?"
Wondering what was going on, Michelle listened in and realized a male and female student were locked in a dispute. It didn't sound like it would escalate into a violent brawl, but the gap between their views showed no sign of narrowing. Piecing the situation together, it seemed the male student named Junon had displayed remarkable improvement before the female student named Senia, and the girl, burning with a desire to grow stronger, was seeking his guidance.
Given her own desperate ambition, Michelle found herself somewhat empathizing with the girl. Deciding there was no need to intrude, she was about to turn away when another line caught her ear.
"I have to advance to Class C. That's why I'm asking for your genuine advice. Because you managed to subdue Sylvia."
...Sylvia?
It was a familiar name.
Don't tell me...!
Was the male student standing over there the one who had knocked out that girl in the infirmary?
"Sylvia or whoever else, it doesn't matter—"
Pondering it further, Michelle realized how utterly absurd the premise sounded. At the academy, the name Junon belonged to only one person: a notorious, reckless student from Class E. He was so infamous that hardly anyone didn't know of him. Because his unique magic had no offensive capability whatsoever, he had been branded with the disparaging moniker of the 'weakest vanguard.'
On the other hand, Sylvia, the tight-lipped student from the infirmary, belonged to Class C. She was the young lady of Count Coutelli's household, holding a respectable standing in Class C as a ranged mage who specialized in wind magic. Based on those reputations alone, the only plausible scenario one could picture was Junon throwing himself at Sylvia somewhere on campus and suffering a humiliating defeat.
Yet... what had the girl just said? Junon had subdued Sylvia?
It sounded impossible. And yet, hadn't Michelle seen it with her own eyes just the other day? Sylvia, lying unconscious on the ground with her ash-grey hair scattered in disarray. That meant this boy named Junon had overturned an insurmountable gap of two entire classes.
But how...?
No, now wasn't the time to question how it was possible. If someone had bridged such a chasm in such a short span of time, Michelle couldn't help but suspect that Junon possessed something extraordinary.
"...Fine. I didn't realize you felt that way."
With the girl's parting words, their conversation came to an abrupt halt. The sound of two sets of footsteps branched off in opposite directions before fading entirely.
Look at the time...! Erika must be waiting!
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Michelle hurried toward the partner she was scheduled to meet today. It seemed Junon's modest wish—to avoid crossing paths with his former companions—was destined to go ungranted.
Exactly two weeks had passed since the victory banquet.
Originally, a fabricated riot by the bottom-tier students was supposed to have framed the vanguards and support mages, dragging their reputation further into the gutter. Had that disaster occurred, the End-of-Term Evaluation would have been delayed, and Professor Muniherr's arrival would have been consumed by unearthing the truth and hunting down the culprits. But none of that came to pass.
The banquet hall, which should have been undergoing heavy repairs after part of its exterior wall collapsed, stood entirely pristine, and the evaluation was brought forward ahead of schedule. Furthermore, the gears of change had clearly been turning on other fronts over the past fortnight.
"Hey, did you see the bulletin board?"
"I have eyes, don't I? Of course I saw it!"
"How could those professors do something like that? Seriously."
Listening to the hushed murmurs of the students, and recalling the official notices posted across campus, it was clear that matters had progressed swifter than expected.
"Weren't you really close with that professor? Are you mixed up in this too?"
"No way! Hey, I was just taking extra private lessons!"
"You idiots, the notices had nothing to do with students. It's corruption! Bribery and embezzlement!"
"Still, how should I put it... It feels like even professors who weren't really involved in that kind of stuff got purged too, didn't they?"
"Yeah, looks like Professor Kyope got swept up in it. She was such a nice person, too."
A nice person? Give me a break.
I wondered how those fools would react if they had to sit through Professor Kyope's lectures as a student from Class D or E. The professors they were lamenting weren't just condescending; they were vicious despots who made it their life's mission to humiliate lower-class students in front of the entire lecture hall. Having never experienced that kind of abuse themselves, they could afford to spout such naive nonsense.
"Looks like everyone is here. I assume you've all confirmed your partner's name? If anyone has forgotten, raise your hand."
While the students chattered, the man arrived.
Professor Muniherr.
A towering figure whose accolades could never be counted on one hand stepped into view.
"Then, allow me to provide a brief briefing regarding this End-of-Term Evaluation."
Before the assembled first- and second-year students, Professor Muniherr manipulated the Talbrut Ark, plunging everyone straight into the projected field as the surroundings transformed drastically. In the blink of an eye, the Mock Combat Room within Mizar Hall was remade into the official testing grounds.
Geographical and demonic beast data gathered by frontliners in active duty took physical form, transmitting vivid sensations that felt entirely real. The earthy scent of soil and dense woodland drifted through the air, carried by a faint breeze that tickled the nose. It was northeastern Scheat, a region notorious for having the most erratic climate in the Ardellion Grand Duchy.
And out of that whole region... it's Mount Utulum.
Located deep in northeastern Scheat, Mount Utulum was a desolate peak without a single village in sight. Having suffered through endless misery hunting a troublesome demonic beast there during my days with Tembris, it was a place etched so deeply into my memories that I could never forget it. Furthermore...
"Whoa... Is this really that place?"
"Yeah. The territory the expedition reclaimed this time."
"So this is what it looks like. Amazing."
It was the very ground secured by Princess Ophilia's expeditionary force and the Arcab Party, earning fervent admiration from the student body. As a high-altitude mountain with treacherous terrain on the northeastern frontier, losing it once made reclamation an agonizing endeavor. And now, this very mountain was where all first- and second-year students stood for their practical exam.
However, professors and students were not the only ones present.
"Who are they? Were those people always at the academy?"
"No clue... Never seen them before."
A line of figures stood at attention, holding only recording slates. Diverging wildly from the standard format of previous term evaluations, their presence cast an uneasy shadow across the students' faces. As if anticipating their apprehension, Professor Muniherr pierced right through their thoughts with a dry clarification.
"Those standing before you are simply instructors who will oversee your progress and intervene in emergencies, as well as proctors who will grade your performance. Put aside any pointless distractions."
His words seemed to answer the students' lingering doubts. Some exhaled sighs of relief, others smacked their lips upon hearing that the instructors hailed from Hardia, and a few looked rattled at having their inner thoughts read so easily. Leaving their varied reactions behind, Professor Muniherr pressed on.
"This End-of-Term Evaluation consists of four stages. Points for deductions or bonuses will not be disclosed under any circumstances, so put forth your utmost effort."
Despite being a practical exam, none of the scoring criteria were revealed. In other words, they were being forced to begin without even understanding the fundamental objective of the test. A ripple of bewildered murmurs washed over the students, questioning what in the world this meant.
I used to react the same way back then.
Even with my memories of the past, I didn't fully comprehend why this evaluation had been structured like this. The exam was simply too bizarre and unorthodox. If there was one clue, it was that Professor Muniherr had never been an ordinary instructor at Lebrant Academy to begin with. Beyond being a once-in-a-century genius who contributed heavily to both the Empire and the Grand Duchy by inventing countless magical tools, he was a decorated luminary who had personally received an imperial medal from the Emperor himself.
Yet, assuming he was merely a bookish researcher who lived in laboratories was a grave mistake. He was a veteran survivor of the Decisive Battle of Mirum, a cataclysm from which only a third of the Artena Empire's fielded forces returned alive. His practical combat prowess was beyond question. Before long, that eccentric professor's brow would furrow sharply once this evaluation concluded; I could still vividly recall him harshly lambasting the pathetic reality of Lebrant Academy's student body. Perhaps I would witness that spectacle again today.
Guided by the proctors, we were led before a sheer cliff face—the gateway to the first stage.
"The first stage is straightforward. You must scale that rock face. From the second stage onward, the instructors stationed at each checkpoint will provide instructions. That is all."
Leaving only those words, he utilized the Talbrut Ark to distribute a small pouch and a pocket watch to every student.
"Hey, this pouch has a lightweight enchantment on it, doesn't it?"
"Seems like it reduces volume too. But the stuff inside..."
"It's just a bunch of useless junk."
An eight-meter rock wall looming ahead, and a pouch filled with tools. The intent to have them scale the cliff using those items was blatantly obvious.
Not that these guys would ever think of that.
Ropes, grappling hooks, strips of cloth, securing pitons—to mages, the pouch contained nothing but scrap. Magic was simply too convenient, too versatile. For the vast majority of students, scaling a rocky cliff was easily accomplished with their prized spells. Yet for someone devoid of magical talent, or someone whose magic offered no mobility, these mundane tools were absolute lifesavers.
Less than five minutes into the exam, confusion swept through the examinees. Some demanded to know what these tools were for, while others openly questioned their purpose. Amid the hesitation, an eager vanguard stepped forward and cast a spell to leap atop the rock face.
"This is a race against time!"
That single cry set off the stampede.
"I'm just gonna go fast too!"
"Uh... wait, whatever! Screw it!"
The moment one student bounded up with magic, the others scrambled to activate their spells, vanishing over the cliff in rapid succession. Nobody had ever said speed was the primary metric, yet they blindly convinced themselves of it, jostling to push ahead of the pack.
Crunch— crunch—
Where is he... Seriously, where did he go...?!
Sylvia ground her fingernails between her teeth, biting them down to the quick. Their smooth, polished appearance was long gone, replaced by jagged, ragged edges. If she bit down any further, blood would start seeping out. Yet, faced with an urgent crisis she had to resolve immediately, Sylvia had no other outlet for her panic.
"Sylvia? What's wrong...?"
"Go on ahead."
"B-But..."
"Just go! I'm fine."
"A-Alright..."
Who cared about an evaluation partner at a time like this? Screaming internally, Sylvia dashed in every direction, searching frantically for a single person. Knowing she couldn't defeat him in another fight, her only option was to track him down and talk to him—and if possible, manipulate the circumstances to her favor.
To make matters worse, time was running out. Would an excuse about an ongoing academy evaluation work on the Count? It wouldn't even dent his resolve. If she failed to resolve this the moment the End-of-Term Evaluation concluded, news of her failure would reach the Count's ears unaltered, delivering her death sentence: total excommunication from the family.
He should be visible by now...! Where is he?!
Had he already scaled the cliff? No... there was no way that guy could cast magic properly in the first place. He couldn't have crossed over yet...
"Ah...!"
Turning her head, a boy with familiar jet-black hair entered her vision.
Found him.
A single ray of hope finally broke through Sylvia's despair.