Golden Generation Rampage
All the exams on our side were finally over. Now, all that was left was to wait for the official score announcements.
"So, what should we do now? We've still got some time left. Want to grab a cup of tea or something?"
"Tea. Sounds good."
"Coffee. Good."
"Alright then. Irshu… no, Tarshu? Coffee for Tarshu. What about you, Lord Abel?"
It was a shame they couldn't be alone just the two of them, but when would they get another stretch of free time like this? Seria asked for his opinion, but Abel's mind was elsewhere.
"Right, we've got time. So, how about we ask the professors for permission to observe how the other groups are taking their exams? What do you all think?"
"…Pardon?"
While everyone else would be blowing off steam and shaking off the stress after their exams, Abel was already gearing up for what came next. He wanted to seriously observe how other ability users thought and acted. In the past, they might have been surprised or even freaked out. But not anymore. After spending the last few months together, they'd gotten a good read on Abel. He was someone with a burning passion for these abilities like no one else—a person who worked harder than anyone to become a star. If they supported that, he'd be over the moon. It wasn't about chasing scores for Seria either; she wanted to shine as a star alongside him, so there was no reason to object.
"If the professors allow it, I'm fine with it."
"Me too."
"Us as well."
In the end, Abel secured permission from Professor Ray to observe the other groups' exams. With the promise that he absolutely wouldn't interfere—and that any hint of it would result in the lowest possible score.
Abel immediately headed to one of the exam venues where a group was preparing. Naturally, the ones at the front were Kalligo, Flam, Portus, and Rel.
"Ah, so that's why you wanted to watch them."
"Excluding us, those four are the top contenders for the highest scores among the freshmen. And since their team compositions are all different, it'll definitely be useful to see someday."
Meanwhile, the four-man team's test began. Rel was the defender, while Kalligo, Flam, and Portus were the attackers.
"How do you think it'll play out?"
"What's your prediction, Seria?"
"Hmm… Well, Flam has overwhelming firepower, so he'll probably go first. Then Portus next, and if Kalligo makes good use of his darkness in the meantime, it'll be really tough for Rel to handle."
"What about you two, Irshu and Tarshu?"
"Same."
"Exactly."
Abel nodded in agreement with the three girls' assessment. Yeah, that was the most realistic prediction right now. Seria, Irshu, and Tarshu weren't weak by any means, but compared to Flam or Portus, they were clearly a step below. Overwhelming firepower. Perfect control. It took at least two of them combined to match what one of those guys could dish out alone. The key factors were two: how much of his ability Kalligo would reveal, and how long Rel could hold out to show his limits.
…No, wait. Is it two or three?
What Seria, Irshu, and Tarshu hadn't mentioned—and what really shouldn't come up in a situation like this. Whether those four would stick to the plan. If one of them got greedy and tried to solo it, or decided to tank everything regardless of the exam outcome. It was a team test. A practical exam. Who in their right mind would pull something that insane?
Yeah, it was insane, so they shouldn't. But the problem was, plenty of other idiots had already done exactly that. Expecting those guys to stay cool-headed… honestly, that might be a stretch.
"Ah, it's starting. As expected, Flam goes first."
"Next, Portus."
"Then Kalligo."
No major issues so far. From Abel's perspective, it was a relief that nothing had gone wrong yet. He'd been a bit worried, honestly. This was the academy—attacks were par for the course, and events like balls always devolved into incidents. Exams, whether written or practical, were no exception. Something always happened at this wonderful place.
"Uh… am I the only one feeling this? Those four seem kinda competitively intense against each other."
"Seria's right."
"I saw it too."
The attackers weren't focusing on the defender—they were eyeing each other and ramping up their power. The defender wasn't warning them off; he was provoking them to bring it harder. The grading professor even issued the first warning of the day.
"…Aigoo."
Of course. As if exams ever went off without a hitch. With all the villain characters used up and every faction introduced, it was time for internal drama to erupt.
"I said I'll handle it! Don't interfere and just stay out of it!"
Flam, who'd been subtly competing with Portus, exploded first. The flames he'd been holding back at the razor's edge now spread everywhere. Portus responded by summoning a tidal wave across the entire exam ground. It was power they'd never shown before—unimaginable might.
And Rel and Kalligo, who should have been keeping their heads? Unfortunately, they were the same. While Flam and Portus duked it out, knowing one had to outshine the other, these two maintained their breaker-and-blocker roles… but they were clashing seriously too. Grades be damned—they had to settle who was superior. They'd forgotten the exam's purpose, rampaging purely to prove they were better.
"Wh-what are you all doing?! Stop this now, or it's the lowest score—no, disqualification… Whoaaa!!"
Hmm. Those guys had completely lost it. Looked like their sanity was slipping too. Why were they going so berserk? What sparked this deathmatch frenzy?
"Wh-what's wrong with them?! Did they say the four fought or something?!"
"No such story."
"Never heard that."
Meanwhile, the four ability users had blown past top marks, pushing toward their personal limits. Suddenly, Abel clapped without thinking, realization dawning.
"That's a rampage right there!"
"This isn't the time to comment so casually, Lord Abel! Evacuation order! The other professors will be here soon, so we should—"
Seria saw it then. Abel, already mesmerized by those four. More precisely, the madman envisioning himself charging into their rampage.
"N-no way? Why is Lord Abel heading there?!"
"A bit off, huh?"
"No!"
She'd told him a dozen times to just leave. But Abel's eyes now burned like theirs. The future top ability users—the core of this golden generation—right there? Professors would intervene in under five minutes anyway. Just a quick clash. Data and experience in one go—what a steal!
…If it felt like he was shouting that, it wasn't Seria's imagination.
"Haa…"
Seria clutched her face, then had a sudden thought. Why was she conflicted? He should just do what he wanted. Come to think of it, why did Abel keep asking her opinion?
"Seria. Seria."
Irshu and Tarshu poked her side.
"Men live doing what they want."
"If they ask if it's okay, there's one reason."
He's concerned about you. Whether you deny it or not, it doesn't matter. It just weighs on his mind. No man in this world lets just anyone nag him.
"Don't get hurt."
In the end, Seria smiled and sent him off well. Abel let out a whoop, drew his sword, and charged into the exam ground.
Unfortunately, the permitted time wasn't long. Three minutes at most. One at least. After that, the professors would arrive. They might be past their prime, but there were plenty, and they could still hang with the pros. So, he had to clash fast. How strong were these rampaging fools? How far could he hold out? Maybe he'd even spot a path to victory.
"You trigger-happy arsonist!"
He lunged at Flam first. A massive red dragon of flame engulfed Abel. Instead of blocking or dodging, he swung his sword, cleanly bisecting the blaze. The crumbling fire and ash touched the blade, dissolving into translucent light.
"You water wuss scared of a little fire!"
For Portus's wave, he planted his sword deep into the ground and took the surging torrent head-on. Unyielding against the massive impact, he seemed invigorated instead.
"You fake-gentleman prime minister's son!"
He twisted a forward punch straight for the face. Abel met it not with his sword, but his fist. The clash boomed like thunder.
"You shady prince in the dark!"
Finally, Kalligo's shadows—he shattered with kicks and snapped with hands.
Less than a minute in, his body screamed limits, but who cared? When had an enemy felt this exhilarating? Maybe today was the peak.
Wooong!!
From the shocks his body absorbed. From the thrill in his chest. Something poured out endlessly. On the verge of bursting and spilling everywhere, Abel seized it in a flash—channeled it through his arm, past his right hand, into the sword.
Swing it like this? Split the heavens?
No, no. Why waste it now? That's for idiots. This power straining to escape—he gritted his teeth, clamped it down desperately.
And finally, as the ordinary blade blackened, scorched by something unseen, Abel truly grasped his real ability.