No Way in Hell – And the Swordswoman's Secret Smile
'No, no.'
-Like hell you won't. Loosen up that fist first?
'Tsk.'
He clenched and unclenched his fist, glancing sideways at the bureaucrat in front of him.
The man's face remained utterly expressionless.
But through that ironclad poker face, flickers of writhing fury peeked through.
Still, he didn't seem the type to lose control and lunge in a burst of rage.
Instead.
Scritch, scratch.
He scribbled something on the paper in his hand and snipped it off with a flick.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out... something.
-Uh... Disqualified?
Unlike Eugene, free to move about and peek at things, Eodukshini read off what was written on the severed paper.
'Ah, shit.'
-Looks like it was because of what you just said...?
'Yeah, figures. Way more definitive than words.'
With this method, no one would know which bureaucrat disqualified him.
Seemed like a measure to prevent any potential abuse of power or retaliation.
'Not bad.'
-And that thing he just pulled out looks like a recorder...
'Ooh...'
And one more thing became crystal clear.
He had to get on good terms with the professors!
In any society, cozying up to those above you made everything else a breeze.
If a mere bureaucrat could pull this off, wouldn't professors be even more reliable?
"?"
The bureaucrat glanced back, puzzled by Eugene's suddenly polite posture, but said nothing.
The weapon aptitude test was a breeze.
Normally, they'd sort weapons by innate physique, subdivide by preferences, let you grip and test them, swing a few times while experts observed your form...
But Eugene had already brought his own weapon, so the experts just needed a quick look.
"Arrogant brat."
"No freshman has ever brought their own weapon. Is this meant to mock us?"
"Fancy-looking sword. Inlaid with gems, no less? Tsk! A commoner with too much money—you'll regret it later."
"In real combat, greenhorns like that just drop dead with a pop. Tsk tsk tsk! That's kids for you!"
Naturally, plenty of dirty looks came his way.
Temp instructors, full professors, guest lecturers... a few of them openly gossiped loud enough for him to hear about the foolhardy newbie with his personal weapon.
Eugene ignored them completely.
'Lower level than Professor Nipella Aoman?'
Truly skilled people didn't bother cutting others down.
If they were really that good, they wouldn't need to brag out loud like that.
'They've got skills, sure.'
To outsiders, they looked like big frogs, but in the well, they were just slightly larger ones.
Ignoring them, he gripped his sword.
"Swing it lightly a few times."
Whoosh, whoosh!
"Your grip's a mess, power control's nonexistent—total disaster."
"And this is the guy who got in on the principal's favoritism? Principal must be losing it."
"Hey, watch it. Anything but badmouthing the principal—that's dangerous."
"Oops. My bad."
No point getting mad over criticisms of his flaws.
They were spot-on. He'd barely handled a sword, just killed one black mage.
'Whatever. Doesn't matter. I'm here to learn anyway.'
He'd just take what he could from them.
One thing puzzled him, though.
'They badmouth the principal right to his face? How low has the authority dropped?'
"All clear. Bring the weapon over; we'll stamp it."
The assistant professor spoke in clipped tones, taking the sword and stamping its blade.
But the stamp on the blade faded away, smooth as silk.
"Huh?"
The flustered assistant stamped it again.
But it dissolved like ink washed away by water.
"Why won't it stick? Student?"
"Yes?"
"Did you enchant it or something?"
"No? I didn't do anything."
What the hell was it made of that it wouldn't take?
"...We'll have to check with a professor. Ahem. We'll wrap this band around it for now—come back later. A professor will engrave it personally."
"No need to wait. I'll do it now."
"Professor?!"
Just then, one of the professors who'd been arms-crossed, judging him earlier, strode in.
He glanced at the sword, then at Eugene, his face twisting in open disdain.
"Special admit bringing your own weapon, huh? Know what happens if we can't engrave the crest? It's unusable."
"Whoa."
"Shouldn't have brought a show-off toy like this. Ever hear of overkill? Way above your league. Who told you to slather it in magic?"
"I didn't, seriously."
"Looks like pricey metal. Tsk! Fine, I'll engrave it special. But be more careful next time."
Tsundere much?
One curiosity, though.
"But can you actually do it?"
Not mocking—just genuine doubt.
No matter how he squinted, this mage couldn't pull it off.
Whatever metal it was, enduring his divine power, amplifying it, even harboring a fragment of ego...
'No chance in hell.'
But the professor took it wrong.
Eugene had expected as much. After the earlier trash talk, he figured a little troll was fair play.
"...Not just talentless—dumb and clueless too. Watch with your own eyes! I'll show you how pathetic your 'talent' is."
The professor sneered, mana surging. He shaped it and slammed it into the blade.
BOOM!
Not a spell failure.
The ore's backlash.
A top mage could suppress it and overlay the crest, but this guy wasn't.
"Wh-what happened?!"
"Why the explosion...?!"
"Did that student attack?!"
"...You serious? If a 'talentless' kid like me could attack you, shouldn't we question your skills, Professor?"
"You little shit!"
But it's true.
He hadn't planned to attack anyway.
He hadn't even known the sword had that quirk, but bringing a weapon that rejected engraving was on him.
"Urgh...!"
"P-Professor! You okay?!"
"Priest! Get a priest! Burns!"
"Student, wait here. We'll fetch another professor! Keep this on you."
He got his sword back. But now he was stuck, unable to proceed.
'Ah, shoulda left it home.'
What a hassle...
-Aren't you gonna heal him? Looks burned.
Eodukshini asked in a tiny voice.
Eugene looked away.
"Eh, I'm a knight—dunno how~"
-You're a priest.
"When? Ever seen a priest wield a sword?"
-You mad bastard...
And why should he heal?
No pay, no favors.
'Kinda harsh, but eat shit.'
Childish, yeah. But they started it.
"Student, wait here."
"Sure."
"Ah, want a Maizhu?"
"Yes! Uh, one more please."
"Huh?"
"This guy's gotta eat too."
"...A slime?"
"Yeah. Ugly, right?"
-What the fuck, man?
Anyway, Eugene and Eodukshini quietly munched Maizhu while waiting.
Overheard: Professor Nipella Aoman was coming personally.
'Good enough.'
Couldn't delay the whole exam for him, so it continued.
Next student entered.
'Adria?'
Pretty enough to mistake at a glance.
Sky-blue hair evoking the heavens, deep blue eyes like an abyss—total opposite.
Beauty princesslier than a real princess. She scanned the room lightly, eyes locking on his.
Her already big eyes widened like saucers.
'...What?'
Why freak at him? Scary-looking?
"Eodukshini."
-That girl... what the... No way. Ugh. Me, falling for a human girl?
Eodukshini clutched its nonexistent heart with nonexistent hands.
"Cut the crap. Isn't she staring at me?"
-Dunno.
"Talk right."
-...She's totally eyeing Master. Must be your looks?
"Yeah, figures. I am pretty hot."
-...Annoying.
Jealous? Stop being slime and go human.
Wait, even then, nah.
-Anyway, prep to bail from this mess.
"Nah, it's fine."
-?
"Worst case, tell the principal."
-...
Even with low authority, they'd handle this much.
"But seriously, why's she staring?? Hungry?"
-Craving Maizhu?
But more than that...
She was off. Literally weird. Outside didn't match inside.
Same blue, but alien sky hair and pitch-black eyes...
'Ocean depths and sky...?'
Especially her gaze on him—intense.
'What the hell?'
Pondering, she stood before the weapon rack.
Professors reacted differently—arms crossed, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"That's the famous Ash Blue, huh?"
"Yeah. Thought it was a guy from the name... shocked us when we went to recruit."
"Amazing. Noblewoman-level beauty. Can't believe she's commoner-born. And that body..."
"Professor. Mind your words here."
"Ahem!"
Old perv.
'...Hold up. That's a female professor?'
"Anyway, know her main weapon?"
"Well..."
Ash Blue tried several, dissatisfied, set them down.
Rifled through, hunting her pick.
"Assistant Professor?"
"Y-yes?"
"None appeal. Gotta pick now?"
"You can later... but grab a second-fave at least."
"Then."
None appealed?
'Looks physical-type...'
Glancing arms and abs—defined muscle.
What was she after?
She gripped a sword, exhaled slowly, took stance.
Swing—
Slashslashslashslash!
Unique blue mana shaped along the arc, hurtling forth.
Myriad blue slashes!
Panicked assistant raised hands.
"Shield!"
Crang! Crashcrashcrash!
Slashes shattered layers of shields. He dove aside.
BOOM!
Blue gashes scarred the wall. She recovered with perfect form.
...Thump.
His heart skipped faintly. Not the flashiness.
The will, experience, her color in the blade...
As War God's priest, impossible not to feel it—the scent and intent of a battle-hardened veteran.
Clapclapclapclap!
"Perfect! Flawless!"
"Hahaha! Top spot's ours this year!"
Ash ignored them all, whipping her head to Eugene.
Eyes met again.
Deep blue eyes curved softly.
Beam.
Bright smile clashing with her cool face.
Lips moved faintly.
'Arcana.'
...What?