End-of-Term Evaluation (2)
"Hey."
"...?"
Under ordinary circumstances, she would have picked from a colorful assortment of derisive labels—deadweight vanguard, untouchable commoner scum, Class E blockhead.
Yet right now, all that came out was that single syllable. Not my name, but completely stripped of profanities and bitter slurs. A word meant purely to address the person standing before her.
People with grey-white hair were far from rare in the Principality; there were plenty of them around. But judging by the color of the trim on her uniform, she was a second-year. In other words, a classmate.
Honestly, I had hoped she was a complete stranger. But no matter how closely I looked, her face was familiar. In the worst possible way.
"...Ha."
Of course. In the end, she was an aristocrat through and through. How could the nobility ever swallow the gaping wound inflicted on their pride by a defeat at the hands of a commoner? It might have been a minor miracle that they hadn't banded together in a unified front to stomp me into the dirt repeatedly. Anyone could see she was here for payback. But why on earth should I give her a fight?
"Not interested."
"What...? I haven't even said anything yet—"
"Aren't you just here to pick a fight and tell me to brace myself anyway? The professors are watching, so why don't you just buzz off?"
Sylvia had originally sought me out to put me in my place, whereas my only goal had been to avoid entanglements with Michel and keep a low profile. But right now? Brawling with her would only draw unwanted attention. If I won, all eyes would be on me; if I lost, I'd end up battered and bruised, unable to train. Win or lose, it was a net loss. Reporting the matter wouldn't accomplish anything either. I wasn't foolish enough to strike a deal where I had nothing to gain.
To think she still hadn't come to her senses after taking such a thrashing. How could she boldly demand a fight right here in the exam grounds of the end-of-term evaluation?
If push comes to shove, I can always incinerate her ribbon and make a spectacle out of her in front of everyone.
Yet Sylvia darted her eyes from side to side, edged closer, and voiced something completely contrary to my expectations.
"It's nothing like that. I want... I want you to make a deal with me."
Hadn't she come to harass and grind me down as usual? Wait, was this a lie? Some underhanded trick to exact her revenge? Did those words really just come out of Sylvia's mouth—asking to strike a deal with me? A commoner? A student from Class E?
"Hurry... Just hurry up and answer...!"
I couldn't fathom why, but watching her fidget in sheer panic suggested she wasn't bluffing.
"Then explain it so it makes sense. What kind of deal are you talking about?"
Demanding a deal out of nowhere made no sense at all, so I treated her with guarded suspicion, wary of whatever scheme she might be hatching. I still didn't trust Sylvia—or rather, nobles as a whole. People like Renias or Michel were rare exceptions. Nobles defeated by a commoner almost invariably harbored venomous grudges, returning to crush their target far more mercilessly. Having been on the receiving end before and having witnessed it firsthand, staying on guard was only natural.
This time, however, she flinched and visibly trembled.
"All you have to do... is fight me and make it look like you lost."
"...Huh?"
"It's simple, isn't it? If you just do that, I'll give you three two-hundred-Alte bills..."
"Give me a break. Hey."
Stunned by the sheer absurdity, I cut Sylvia off before she could finish. Listen meekly? What kind of ridiculous proposition was this? Naturally, I pushed back without hesitation.
"Are you out of your mind? You're basically asking me to take a beating for cash."
Sylvia looked genuinely bewildered, as if she couldn't comprehend why I was reacting so defensively.
"What's wrong with that...? It's not like I'm asking you to get hit for free. I'm offering plenty of compensation...!"
"Ha. Sure. I get that your precious pride took a hit. But what kind of twisted logic makes you think you can just pay someone to be your punching bag?"
I pressed further, my tone hardening.
"Even if I accepted, how do I know you won't cripple me? What good is money if my body ends up permanently ruined?"
That was the crux of the issue. Noble retaliation was notoriously brutal, which was precisely why students from Classes D and E threw in the towel early on. As long as you kept your limbs intact, you could survive well enough despite the miserable treatment. That was how everyone aside from me reasoned. But what if you dared to resist, only to suffer a quiet 'accident' with fractured bones? The agony was one thing, but there was zero guarantee it wouldn't happen again. And would the professors even bother investigating if you reported it? You'd be lucky if they didn't twist the narrative and frame the victim as the culprit.
In the end, real victims were conditioned like Pavlov's dogs, bowing their heads before nobles out of sheer terror. And the nobility used those lowered heads as stepping stones to assert their supremacy.
Faced with my unyielding refusal, Sylvia's voice grew increasingly frantic as she tried to plead her case.
"If that's not enough, I'll make it four—no, five bills! A thousand Alte is five whole months' wages for a commoner!"
There had to be a pressing reason for her to push such an unreasonable demand to the bitter end. Yet there was no guarantee it wasn't rooted in spite against me. After all, who on earth enjoyed taking a beating? I was just about to tell her to get lost and flatly turn her down, but—
"There you are, Senior! Did you wait long...? Oh?"
My partner arrived before I could get the words out.
"Did I happen to interrupt an important conversation between you two...? Ahaha."
"Weren't you two friends?"
"I've never had a friend like that."
"Mmm... is that so? It looked like she was asking for a favor. And that you were listening."
Sorry, but it was the exact opposite. Bitter enemies would be closer to the truth. Regardless of her awkward opening remark, her timing had been impeccable. The instant Sylvia caught sight of Renias, she cast magic and retreated up the cliff as if fleeing for her life, never bothering to look back down.
In any case, it seemed Renias had been searching for me. Much to my embarrassment, I had completely forgotten about her while inspecting the tools in my pockets and dealing with Sylvia.
"Um... Senior."
"Yeah?"
"I know this is terribly awkward right after finding you... but I'm so sorry!!!"
What was with her now? Renias pressed her hands together and rattled off a lengthy apology as though she were a condemned criminal.
"So, to summarize: there was a hidden Break Time protocol in this evaluation, and you used it just to change your clothes?"
"Yeees... I was told we won't be granted a second one..."
Even if she hadn't used it, I probably wouldn't have noticed it existed in the first place. In fact, didn't we only find out because she used it? Professor Muniherr was eccentric to a fault. His criteria for grading both practical exercises and exams were completely alien compared to everyone else's, so this was par for the course.
"Whatever, it's fine. It's not like I was ever going to use it anyway."
"The thing is... even though this area is projected inside the Talbrut Ark, the Assimilation Rate is set quite high, so an emergency might occur."
"How high is it?"
"He told me it was set at twenty-five percent."
The Talbrut Ark was essentially an archive of compressed data, an advanced magical artifact capable of storing parameters for monsters, beasts, and even realistic exam terrains like this one. Depending on the input information, mock battles and tests could be staged in an illusory state. Simple calibrations like adjusting strength or weight were standard, but its most distinctive capability was modulating how closely the simulation replicated reality.
The degree of similarity between reality and the cube's phantasms was known as the Assimilation Rate, and its creator had capped it at a maximum threshold of fifty percent. The reasoning was self-evident: a higher assimilation rate produced a vivid, true-to-life experience, but it equally magnified the risk of genuine physical injury.
"Twenty-five percent... Even if it's not fatal, exhaustion or fainting could easily happen... And since we can't use our Break Time anymore, any unexpected mishap means an immediate failure with no second chances, right?"
"That's right... I'm so terribly sorry. I had no idea...."
At this rate, anyone watching would think I was persecuting her. When someone was this exceptionally kind, it made me feel like the villain.
"...It's fine, so lift your head."
Even without Break Time, the worst outcome was merely a sharp deduction in our exam score. I didn't know how that affected Renias's standing, but a penalty on my third-year record wouldn't make the slightest difference to me. When I already knew what was worth learning and which training was truly practical, what did grades matter? At best, earning a promotion would do nothing more than irritate the peers who looked down on me. More than anything, I simply wanted to test the fruits of the physical conditioning I had accumulated so far.
"I'm in Class E anyway, so I couldn't care less about grades. If you want, you can go on ahead without worrying about me."
I tossed the suggestion out casually. But Renias didn't seem the type to accept it.
"If we're paired up, we should go together! It's much better to travel as a team so we can help each other, isn't it?"
...Just how optimistic could one person be?
Even though I had told her I couldn't use any magic, Renias didn't waver in the slightest; she clearly intended to stick with me.
Actually, knowing Renias, this makes even more sense.
She might be hailed as the jewel of Lebrant Academy, but having weathered countless battles, pouring her absolute best into everything had probably become second nature.
"Well, my point is: if you want to climb over on your own, feel free to do so whenever you like. I'm going to have to scale it with my bare hands."
"Then I can just scale it with my bare hands too."
"...Why on earth would you do that? One spell and you'd clear it in an instant."
"Wouldn't working together as a pair earn us extra credit? Besides, don't you think there's something strange about this test to begin with?"
It was the single suspicion that had crossed my mind as well, and I suspected she was spot-on. Forcing everyone from the start to scale an eight-meter rock wall with barely any incline meant the course was designed for everyone to cross, whether they relied on magic or not. There was no announced time limit either, so it could hardly be considered a race against the clock. In short, it was an exam practically anyone could pass—so why bother mandating two-person teams?
If it was the Professor Muniherr I knew, he would never design a test this half-baked. Absolutely never.
"There really isn't any strict need to tackle it as a duo."
"Exactly. And that's precisely why I came looking for you, Senior, to stick together."
"Well... do whatever you want, then."
There might be the pretext of fostering teamwork, but the fact that the trial seemed far too simplistic continued to nag at the back of my mind. Yet any lingering concern dissolved the very next second.
"Besides, I already swapped my skirt for trousers anyway. You look like you know how to climb this, Senior. Could you teach me?"
Renias offered a bright, cheerful grin, earnestly requesting instruction.
...Why did this girl insist on going out of her way to suffer?