Reversal (4)
At Lebrant Academy, academic year was more than a mere measure of time; it strictly defined and limited the scope of courses a student could take. It went without saying that freshmen could hardly be tossed straight into live-combat fieldwork, so the curriculum inevitably shifted with each advancing year.
Nowhere was that divide starker than between the second and third years.
For a second-year student, academy life at this time of year was simple: attend lectures, absorb the theory, and drill the techniques until the body remembered them. But once they crossed into the third year, those days became distant memories. It was the point where every student had to seriously weigh whether remaining at the academy was truly their path.
Those without actual battlefield experience universally called the third year the great hurdle. Statistically, it was precisely at this crossroads that the highest number of students abandoned combat tracks for other disciplines—or withdrew from the academy altogether.
That was why they called it the Devil's Third Year: the year students crossed blades with demonic beasts for the very first time.
"I will warn you once more," an instructor's voice rang out across the grounds. "The moment your bracelet begins to glow and signals that your Magic Armament is about to dissipate, withdraw from the combat zone immediately! If an examiner or instructor is forced to intervene because a student failed to comply, that student will receive an automatic zero. Understood?"
In the past timeline, a handful of arrogant nobles had ignored that warning in a greedy scramble for extra points, only to be disqualified with a flat zero on their records. Still, among those assigned to vanguard or support roles, nobody was foolish enough to risk a failing grade like that.
A few students had yet to manifest their Magic Armament, but that was hardly fatal. This evaluation was deliberately designed around squad formations. Even without a designated leader, as long as someone started pushing past their limits, the others would reach a mutual consensus and pull them back.
Still, this term should be considerably more stable.
What offered the greatest reassurance was that this wasn't the first brush with demonic beasts for the majority of the class. Thanks to the accelerated joint practical training in Tbeshar, they had already cut their teeth on Kud Rats—and some had even squared off against Giant Kud Rats. Furthermore, quite a few had stood on the front lines against the Orthoptera swarm. Their vigilance against beasts was already carved deep into their instincts.
All that remained was to see what would unfold on his end. Junon needed only to keep a sharp eye out for anomalies.
"Finish up and come back safe, Senior!"
"...Aren't you a little too relaxed about this?"
"Why would I worry when it's you, Senior? Hehe."
Having watched nearly every step Junon had taken by her side, Renias harbored not a shred of anxiety. This might be the most critical milestone in an academy student's career, but given his overwhelming skill, she trusted implicitly that he would handle it with ease.
"I should start preparing something to celebrate when you return! Heehee."
She had already moved on to planning a victory celebration. Just how high were her expectations? Junon could only let out a wry, helpless chuckle.
"Announcing squad assignments for the examination! Check your rosters!"
Leaving behind Renias, who was enthusiastically waving both arms in farewell, Junon made his way over to locate his squad.
And there, he found them.
Two familiar figures stood holding fluttering slips of paper marked with the letter J.
"..."
"..."
In that frozen moment, their thoughts were almost certainly identical.
Don't tell me... all three of us are in the same squad?
Whether by pooling their wits or combining their physical strength, people naturally found tasks easier and faster to resolve when the burden was divided. Facing demonic beasts followed the exact same principle. Even if human flesh was reinforced by mana, victory was never guaranteed in a one-on-one duel against a beast. That logic was the entire reason for dividing students into squads. Though smaller than a full six-man team covering every role, a four-man unit was more than sufficient for members to cover one another's blind spots. It was also meant to cultivate teamwork.
Of course, personalities varied, and there were always comrades who rubbed one another the wrong way. Friction was an unavoidable consequence of human nature.
Even so, what was happening now was far too blatant.
Skrrrk—!
A Fenrir let out a strangled shriek as a debilitating debuff washed over it, noticeably dragging down its movements. It was Erika's spellwork; when necessary, she could easily step in as an auxiliary support caster.
"..."
With its agility crippled, the Fenrir's flanks were left wide open. Seizing the opening, Senia and the fourth squad member swiftly dispatched the beast. To an outside observer, the entire sequence would have looked textbook. What could possibly be wrong with such smooth coordination?
The problem was that one person's hands remained entirely idle.
Their squad consisted of four: two close-combat vanguards, one buffer, and one Close-range Interception Vanguard. By standard tactical doctrine, the buffer was supposed to reinforce the interception vanguard so he could absorb and deflect the beast's charge, creating an opening for the two offensive vanguards to plunge in. That was the most reliable way to consistently inflict damage while keeping squad casualties to a bare minimum.
So why was the Close-range Interception Vanguard left standing with nothing to do?
Because the buffer, without any tactical necessity, had unilaterally taken on the role of an offensive crowd-controller, usurping the interception vanguard's function. By seizing aggro through direct spellcraft, she deliberately bypassed the man whose job was to serve as the shield for his comrades, denying him any chance to engage the beasts.
In short, Squad J's buffer, Erika, was deliberately freezing one person out. Her actions spoke with crystal clarity: Don't you dare even think of stepping forward.
So she really does hold a grudge against me.
For some reason, even after Junon had addressed the past just as he had with Aris—in fact, even more explicitly—Erika's attitude hadn't softened in the slightest. And to think he had actually worried about squad dynamics becoming awkward.
He felt like scoffing at his own naivety.
Looks like this is as far as we go.
By the time their tally of Carnac Fenrirs, Morel Snakes, and Willos Boars reached fifteen, the squad's cohesion hit its breaking point.
"Ah... I can't keep going any longer..."
While Erika and Senia were still in fighting shape, the bracelet on the fourth squad member's wrist flared with light. It was the signal that his Magic Armament's duration had expired, warning him to withdraw immediately before he incurred an automatic failure.
"The three of you still look fine, so I'll be heading back first." The third-year male student offered a polite bow, thanking them for the guidance, and made his exit.
With his departure, only three remained. A suffocating silence hung in the clearing—until an unforeseen spark ignited the tension.
"Hey. What the hell do you think you're pulling?"
Senia had stepped forward and seized a handful of cloth.
The collar clenched tightly in her fist belonged to Erika.
...What is wrong with these two?
Junon couldn't care less about whatever personal drama they were nursing, but he thoroughly despised the situation itself. An evaluation deduction was one thing, but wrapping this up cleanly with a minor penalty was the best outcome they could hope for right now.
"If you were that unhappy having me around, you should've just said so," Junon said evenly. "I would've pulled out from the start."
"Wait, Junon! That's not—"
"Right. I guess I was just slow on the uptake. I don't want to ruin the mood any further, so I'm leaving. The source of your problem is stepping out, so don't tear each other apart and handle things yourselves."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned his back on them. Heading off toward a different sector of the combat grounds, he made it abundantly clear that he intended to finish the exam alone. Within seconds, his silhouette melted into the foliage.
I can't even go after him...!
To let an innocent person shoulder the penalty and walk away empty-handed—the sheer injustice of it made Senia's stomach burn as though acid were creeping up her throat. She had tried her hardest to avoid instigating conflict among teammates, but this crossed every line she had.
Erika slapped Senia's hand away, her expression chillingly composed. "Did I do something wrong? Why are you acting like this?"
"Ha...! Did you do something wrong? Are you kidding me right now?! You went out of your way to block him from doing anything! Did you really think I wouldn't notice?!"
Senia had seen it from the very first engagement. Despite having a dedicated interception vanguard on hand, Erika had deliberately pulled aggro first. Instead of applying defensive buffs to the frontline, she had cast direct crowd-control magic on the beasts. Every action was an undeniable, calculated attempt to exclude one specific person from the squad.
"Speak. What on earth possessed you to pull something so petty?"
"Petty? I simply fought the way I was taught."
"Don't give me that garbage! How many mock battles have we fought together? You think you can brush this off with such a pathetic excuse?!"
"I don't know what you want me to say. Our squad didn't have an opening for his role, so he naturally ended up sidelined. What's so wrong with that?"
"Ha...! So that's how you're going to play it?"
Faced with shamelessness that went beyond petty and bordered on brazen, the last shred of Senia's patience snapped.
"Does having Junon step in terrify you that much? What, is it because he condensed a mana stone faster than you? Because he manifested his Magic Armament way ahead of you?"
"You...!"
"Does it eat away at your pride every time he fights? Does it make you jealous, envious, bitter? Ah, I almost wish it were just that, but maybe it runs even deeper. Looking at how fast he condenses mana and manifests his armament... are you scared because he's growing faster than you? Yeah. That's why you're keeping him in check, isn't it?!"
"Senia!!"
Erika's voice cracked in sheer fury. Renias's earlier words had already been ringing relentlessly in her ears, grating on her nerves like sandpaper, and Senia's venomous taunts slammed the accelerator straight through her composure.
"Keep this up, and you will regret it," Senia said, her eyes flashing cold. "Mark my words."
With Junon gone, Squad J's collective examination came to an abrupt, bitter end.
Back in Team Tembris, friction hadn't been entirely nonexistent. It had simply been rare, and in the heat of combat, it had never once interfered with their duties. Junon knew full well that Senia and Erika were prone to bickering in their downtime; that was just their everyday dynamic. But the real feud back then had been between Senia and Aris, not Erika. Seeing this level of hostility directed at him was genuinely perplexing.
"Still, leaving was definitely the right call."
Whether Senia and Erika were present or not, being shackled to a squad meant his movements were restricted, making it impossible to scout the grounds properly. Adele had explicitly warned him that an incident might take place, and only now that he was free could he thoroughly investigate the surrounding area.
Along the way, taking down beasts on his own served as a good refresher for his combat instincts.
Skreeeech—!
Operating solo carried obvious risks, but these were beasts he had already faced in simulations cranked up to a 40% assimilation rate, and real battlefields teemed with horrors far worse than these. Culling lower-tier monsters like this could hardly inspire any sense of crisis. While he refused to drop his guard, from his perspective, it was undeniably trivial.
"I should've more than made up for the squad penalty by now... and yet the light still hasn't turned on."
Even after felling more than ten beasts single-handedly, his wristband showed no sign of activating. That meant his Magic Armament's duration was holding firm, and his mana reserves remained plentiful. He had assumed that hunting solo would force him to withdraw far earlier than the others, but it hardly mattered. It wasn't a bad sign by any stretch.
"That looks like the last sector over there. Might as well check it out before heading back."
"Thanks for the backup! You saved my neck back there!"
"Don't mention it. But... ugh, my Magic Armament's tapped out."
"Hey, you held out plenty long. Let's head back."
Drifting voices echoed faintly through the trees. Junon had scanned every corner of the grounds, but no major crisis seemed to have materialized during the examination. The shouts of students, the clatter of steel, and the thunder of spells were gradually fading into complete silence.
Adele must have had her reasons for issuing that warning, but this time, it seemed to have been a false alarm. Still, that was fine. The absence of disaster was always the best possible outcome.
And so, the third-year students' first live-combat evaluation drew to a peaceful close.
Yet, by the time Junon made his way back toward the heart of the academy...
Disaster had already struck from a direction nobody could have anticipated.
Why... is Dubhe Hall...?!