Midterm Evaluation (6)

Finding the place where the smell of blood hung in the air wasn't difficult. The deeper we pressed, the more the path ahead was marked by the scars of explosions and the residue of spent mana.

The scenery turned absurd the further in we went, and before long a thick, acrid smoke veiled our eyes—then the overwhelming stench of burnt powder came charging at my nose. When the smoke finally cleared, we could see them: student after student.

It was no exaggeration to say that a single unharmed student was hard to find. People bleeding from their arms, splinting their legs, crying out in pain—they were everywhere, and around them lay torn scraps of something black and mana stones shattered to fragments across the ground.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

"I... I can't do any more... hnngh..."

"I-I'm giving up!!"

Judging by the state of things, they had clearly fought the beasts—but had it really taken this kind of toll? The evaluation was the whole point at the Academy; a pair of students working together should have been able to bring down a single beast without much trouble. All the more so since beasts possess no intelligence.

They are born of mana, and they crave it. Some say that what they seek in it is the presence of a parent. Some say their bodies are, in truth, composed of mana itself. Some say it is because they grow by absorbing enough of it. The exact reason has never been established—but that they want mana is a proven fact, and so is the means they choose to obtain it: slaughter. Every living creature carries mana in its body, however faint, and the beasts absorb it by devouring that flesh.

The mana stone embedded in a beast reveals its danger level, ranked as lowest, low, mid, high, or highest. The beasts employed in the Academy's evaluations fall between lowest and low rank. Even a low-rank beast could be brought down by students, so long as they cooperated—it might cost them, but it could be done.

Which made this scene all the harder to understand. At a glance, dozens of students lay wounded, and the remains of countless beasts littered the ground. For beasts of low rank or below to swarm like this was outrageous enough in itself—but for the injuries to be this severe, with this many students on hand, made no sense at all.

Carrying that question with me, I was picking my way forward through the carnage when a figure caught my eye. A man ringed by a crowd of people, artifacts draped over him from head to toe, calmly working to bring the chaos under control. Someone I had always found a little overbearing—and there stood Albert, eldest son of the Iris Ducal House.

"Haha... to think we'd meet under circumstances like these."

"What happened here?"

Albert's face brightened the moment he saw me, and as he came over I asked him the question I had been wanting to ask from the start. Whatever variable had inflicted wounds like these even against this many students was not something I wanted to cross paths with. Whatever factor had been at work in this fight, I was determined to steer clear of it at all costs—and so I asked him what it was.

And the truth that left his lips was enough to leave me stunned.

A few hours earlier.

Albert had been dealing with the students flocking to his team.

"Lord Albert, why not form an alliance with our team..."

"Albert, we'd like to submit an alliance request..."

"By any chance, do you have an alliance yet...?"

As the son of one of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Four Great Ducal Houses and a top-ranked student, he had been sought out endlessly by students hoping to ally with him. If Albert turned them down, they were the ones who lost out, so they had come to him clinging on for dear life—and from where Albert stood, it was an offer with no downside at all.

'Even if only to keep Isabella in check, building a faction ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wouldn't be a bad idea.'

He was hardly brighter than his younger sister, but he was still the eldest son of the Iris Ducal House. He knew all too well how to weigh what would profit him and what would cost him—and how, in the end, to walk away with nothing but gain.

So he accepted every proposal, and before he knew it he was enthroned at the head of them all, molding his new faction to his will. His chest swelled with the conviction that he could beat the ones ranked above him.

Then it happened. A strange report came up from the scouts he had sent to survey the forest: the beasts seemed to be converging somewhere.

Before long, further reports arrived—signs of beasts gathering from the other directions as well. These were creatures that did not act in packs, and the question only swelled.

Why? Was there any reason for it? No overwhelming mass of mana could be felt anywhere. So what reason could they possibly have to gather?

His deliberations did not last long. Because of a single remark one of the students let slip.

"...If we took down that many beasts... how many bonus points would that be...?"

It may have been nothing more than idle curiosity. Or it may have been a desire he had been struggling to swallow. But the others who heard it soon began to consider it in earnest.

"Now that you mention it...? Beasts do count for bonus points..."

"No, but isn't that way too many, though?"

"...Which means we could earn exactly that many points..."

They knew it too, of course. They had certainly felled beasts on the way here, but set against that number, their kills didn't bear comparison. And beneath it all gnawed the thought that if they weren't careful, the lead they had opened over the other teams could be narrowed—all because of those creatures.

They could not stop themselves, and soon the words began spilling out.

"...What's the harm in trying to catch them?"

"They did say... we wouldn't die..."

"Our ranking might climb... a whole lot higher, even..."

Their wishes, at some point, had placed the choice in the hands of their team leader—me. And I understood the look in their eyes all too well.

Greed.

It was the emotion my family had taught me to prize above all others, hammering it into me again and again. A nauseating, repulsive emotion was smoldering up in their eyes—and before I knew it, it had begun creeping into my own heart as well.

'If only I could catch every last one of them... A horde that size—I could handle it, couldn't I? I still have uses left on my artifacts... and those things have no intelligence...'

It felt as though someone kept whispering inside my head. I wanted them. It felt as if I had only to reach out my hand. My emotions surged; I could not contain the excitement. The thought that I could beat the ones above me would not leave me—and though I could not say for certain I was making a sound judgment, I raised a cowardly excuse as my banner—'I cannot betray their expectations...'—and made my choice: we would hunt the beasts, and sate my desire.

The ones who had wanted it threw their hands up in welcome, and with hearts as one they all went off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to check their equipment. Watching them go, I doubted my own decision to the very end—but I could not overturn a decision I had made on my anxiety alone.

And so, thinking that, we set out in search of the beasts. Word came in that they were gathering in the eastern forest. Everyone already talked as if the beasts were as good as dealt with, chattering about bonus points, giddy with visions of the rankings they expected for themselves.

It was as we drew near the place where the beasts had gathered that the unease began, slowly, to make itself felt. Far from any great mass of mana, the concentration around us was no different from ordinary. However I turned it over, there was no reason for the beasts to gather—but there was no room to come up with another explanation, either. Beasts were already glimpsed here and there, and the students around me all but squirmed with the itch to catch them. One word from me, and they looked ready to hurl themselves at the creatures that very instant. And I, too, facing a horde of that size, could hardly forget the bonus points on offer—so when I came back to myself, I was at the very tip of the charge, running straight at them.

The students streamed in behind me, and they too seemed to have eyes for nothing but the beasts. The beasts noticed us and lunged—and so the melee began.

Things shaped like tentacles. Things in the form of wolves. Even things shaped like plants. Beasts of every description came charging straight at us, and I shattered the gaping maw of the wolf lunging at me without a moment's delay. One kill became two, then six—and as my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠count climbed, a question seized several of the students, myself included. At some point, the beasts had stopped attacking. They only circled us, hemming us in. The beasts were supposed to have no intelligence. Wasn't a beast a creature that threw itself heedlessly at living things for nothing but slaughter?

Just as the thought brushed across my mind, a scream tore out from the space some distance behind us.

"AAAAAAGH!!!"

"Wh-what the hell is that?!"

It took no more than a few seconds for terror to take root in the eyes of the students positioned there—and soon, I too finally understood why the scene had felt so uncannily familiar.

Why had beasts with no intelligence gathered in a single place? Was there any reason for so many beasts to crowd onto ground with no mana to speak of? Had creatures so dissimilar in form somehow reached a consensus? At last I remembered: I had known the answer all along, and had pretended not to, telling myself it couldn't be true. A professor had explained it to us once.

The professor had said as much, and since this was the Academy's midterm evaluation, I hadn't so much as considered the second possibility. Now, though, it could no longer be denied. The second had actually happened.

In the Academy's evaluations, the vast majority of beasts are of lowest to low rank. I had certainly underestimated them before, thinking that level would be nothing to worry about. But the scene before my eyes was not something to be taken lightly.

It was big. Enormously, undeniably big. A colossal wolf, a good three meters long, clamped its jaws around one student's torso in the same instant its crimson eyes swept over us and turned our blood to ice. For all that it was a wolf, its vertically slit pupils brought a legendary dragon to mind, and its jet-black form, like a shadow given shape, slipped through our attacks with insulting ease. The liquid dripping from its maw ate through our armor, and the flesh its claws tore away spattered across the ground. Even a casual flick of one forepaw snapped trees and sent students flying. At a single howl, the beasts moved as one; at the smallest rumbling growl, their behavior seemed to bend to its will.

A being capable of commanding lowest- and low-rank beasts. The Mid-Rank Demonic Beast had made its appearance.