Midterm Exams (1)
“Hello, citizens! You're watching Entertainment Broadcast, and I'm your MC, Mark!”
“And I'm announcer Mela.”
On the Colosseum's giant screen, the two figures beamed with cheerful smiles as they greeted the crowd.
Microphones in hand, they carried the broadcast along on voices as fresh as a spring breeze.
“Our sincere thanks to everyone for visiting the Colosseum again today.”
“Wow, it must be because the weekend starts tomorrow — the crowds have really turned out. There isn't a single empty seat in the stands!”
“That's right. You could say everyone here is looking forward to the upcoming match.”
“And right there, folks, you can see the Dark Circle! Honestly, I was so excited I stayed up all night waiting, hahaha!”
“They're pretty entertaining.”
I watched the broadcast playing on the big screen and offered a short verdict.
It looked exactly like the TV programs I used to watch as a kid, and old memories came bubbling back up.
Ever since smartphones took over and that one video platform started dominating everything, broadcasts like this had fallen way out of fashion.
Wait, no — come to think of it, weren't there streamer tournaments and esports competitions that ran pretty much the same kind of coverage? Maybe not so out of fashion after all.
“Solis, stop watching the broadcast and get ready to head out.”
“Oh, come on. Fine, I got it, so quit nagging.”
There I was, enjoying the show, when Chloe jabbed my shoulder and urged me to hurry.
Having finished my preparations long ago, I gathered my gear and followed behind her as she marched ahead.
The rest of the broadcast I could catch on my phone later.
“Matches are held here every week, but today we can tell you it's something extra special.”
“Indeed. And our special guests — those of you in the stadium have probably already noticed.”
“Allow us to introduce — Purity Academy!”
“Please give them a big round of applause!”
The broadcast on my phone flickered and cut to the arena floor.
A wave of cheering spectators; the passionate roars rising from the stands filled the Colosseum to its rafters.
Dead center in the arena, the figures of the Purity Academy students played out live on screen.
I switched off my phone and looked up — sure enough, a broadcast helicopter mounted with cameras was circling above the stadium, capturing the scene from overhead.
“Waaah!”
“Uuuh… p-p-people…”
Even Eva, no stranger to crowds herself, shrank back instinctively from the white-hot heat of the arena — an intensity that would test the thickest-skinned socialite.
And it wasn't just her. Every student felt the same weight.
The knowledge that they were about to show everything they'd trained for in front of this many people.
The crushing pressure that one slip could end in public humiliation. They were all wound tight.
The voices pouring out of the crowd like a tide only piled more weight onto that tension.
“Kehah! Look at 'em, those little shits are shaking!”
“Adorable, really.”
“Kids like that ever been in a real fight in their lives?”
“Booing them into the ground, the bastards.”
“Can't blame them. It's common knowledge that the people of the Max Republic can't stand Purity Academy.”
Educational institutions were a dime a dozen across the world, but only a precious few had ever proven their name was worth anything.
Exactly five academies were recognized by the world as elite.
And even among those five, people insisted on stacking them into a hierarchy.
The Max Republic's own Equality Academy had been utterly trounced by Purity Academy, holding onto a spot as the eternal runner-up.
Watching your nation's flagship institution cling to the bottom of the podium year after year thanks to the same rival — of course that stung.
“Uuu… s-scary.”
“Don't tremble, Eva. I'm right here.”
A scene that, by now, would feel off if it didn't play out.
Eva cowering and trembling, Chloe gathering her into her arms.
One difference, though: this time, a thread of worry was plainly visible on Chloe's face.
The matches would begin soon, and she would be taking her exam separately from Eva, out in the Colosseum.
For a girl terrified of standing in front of strangers, being torn away from her would be the last thing she wanted.
“Purity Academy — yes, they've been wrapped up in controversy lately, but their status as an untouchable elite remains unchanged.”
“In just a moment, all of you will see with your own eyes the skill of students trained and forged at the institution called the world's finest.”
“Waaah!”
“Show us what you've got!”
“Not that they'll do anything but quake in front of a real monster.”
Even amid a chorus of mixed expectation and jeers, the broadcast rolled on.
The commentary team worked the crowd with practiced ease, cranking the atmosphere ever higher.
“Now then, everyone! Tired of waiting?”
“For all of you, we'll be starting just as soon as everything is ready!”
The bold declaration from the MC and announcer spread out into the world through the medium of broadcast.
And with the proclamation announcing the start, a fitting image bloomed across the big screen.
“That crispy, addictive crunch that lingers on your ears! Eat along with us — Red Whole Chicken.”
“Ah, for fuck's sake, an ad.”
“Same everywhere, huh. This world or any other.”
Cutting to a commercial at the crucial moment to squeeze out some easy money.
That shit-awful inevitability that comes with every broadcast ever made — I had to tip my hat to it.
“Academy students! Everyone except those holding an A ticket, please return to the waiting rooms!”
“We apologize for the inconvenience, but please follow the staff's guidance. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Still, credit where credit's due — the ad break's one virtue(?) was the breathing room it bought, and the guides used it well, swiftly shepherding the students into position so the matches could run smoothly.
“You got an A ticket too?”
“Looks that way.”
Hey, you too? Me too!
Chloe came toward me, waving the paper marked with an A, and I greeted her with a friendly grin.
Though the recipient of that greeting made a distinctly sour face.
“Of all the people to get paired with. What a rotten draw.”
“Oh, come now. Getting to team up with the man who slew a Guardian-certified Intermediate Guardian? You should be groveling at my feet, thanking me.”
“You're doing this on purpose, aren't you. Riling me up for fun.”
“Pffthahahaha.”
This is why I can't stand perceptive little gremlins.
She clapped a hand over her mouth to smother the laughter spilling out of her, but in the end she lost the battle and burst out laughing anyway.
Getting paired with someone strong. For a cooperative game, there could be no better arrangement.
A structure where you just did your part and someone carried you the rest of the way.
Even if I screwed up, my partner would clean up the mess.
Except — this was the midterm exam.
Not cooperation. An individual test.
Which meant the students sharing a group weren't meant to work together, but to compete against each other.
To Chloe, who wanted a perfect score, I wasn't a dependable teammate — I was an obstacle blocking her path, a wall she'd have to climb over.
Right on cue, the camera swung around to film the rising star with the expectations of the world heaped on her shoulders.
“The Group A matches are about to begin. Mark, from your perspective, which student here do you think will take the highest score?”
“I hear this year's class has no shortage of promising talent at Purity Academy, but even so, my pick is this student, without question.”
The big screen, having finished its commercial, turned its eye on the students.
The camera swept past a sea of faces before settling on Chloe's.
“Chloe Opal — the next head of House Opal, and the top-ranked student in Purity Academy's martial division.”
“The Sword Saint's daughter, yes, I know her well. I imagine the students drawn into Group A are weeping tears of despair at sharing a bracket with her.”
“Ha… goddamn it.”
Hearing her own name called over the broadcast, Chloe let out a curse-laden sigh.
Having the crowd's expectations heaped onto you on a stage built for showing off your strength could be an opportunity.
But that was only pleasant if you actually won.
Score lower than anyone predicted, and what came back at you was a disappointment exactly as enormous as all the attention that had been poured onto you.
“If you want first place, I'll hand it over. I'm not that hung up on rankings.”
“Don't bother. And don't you dare go easy on me.”
“Surprising. I figured you'd swallow your pride and come begging on hands and knees.”
The midterm exams were being broadcast live across the world — and her father, the Sword Saint, was surely watching too.
The Writer had once described her longing to live up to his expectations as the desperate hunger of a traveler searching for an oasis in the middle of a desert.
“It's not that I don't feel that way. I want first place too.”
“Then why—”
“Simple. A result I didn't earn myself means nothing.”
Chloe rested her hand on the hilt at her hip and settled into a draw stance.
“And don't you dare underestimate me. I haven't just been standing still in place, either.”
“Good. I'll be looking forward to it.”
Even rotten, a gizzard shad is still a gizzard shad — is that what they mean by a heroine of Eva's?
At her declaration that she'd cut me down herself, I answered in kind and readied my own stance for the fight.
“And now, thank you for your patience! At long last, Group A — the first match is about to begin!”
With MC Mark's thunderous shout, the steel gate sealed shut on the far side of the Colosseum groaned upward with a deafening clamor.
Red eyes glittering out of the darkness.
What poured through the gate, playing a grating, skittering discord —
“And here they come! The first runners — a Metal Hopper swarm! No pushovers, folks.”
The big screen zoomed in on a horde of man-sized steel locusts, bouncing and ricocheting across the arena floor, crushing the ground beneath them.
“The notorious monsters of the gray plains.”
“That's right. Bring down even one of them single-handedly, and you'd comfortably pass the Beginner Guardian exam.”
As the commentators' voices climbed, the Metal Hopper swarm registered the students before them as prey and drove their legs into the earth.
KUWOONG!
The swarm leapt as one.
The moment that wave of steel swallowing the sky threatened to crush down on us—
SSEOG!
A sword strike steeped in blackness swept over the monsters.
CHWAAAK!
A single blade of dark energy.
Then it split — into dozens of flickering black afterimages.
Like a serpent lunging for its prey with jaws spread wide, the lightning-quick strikes tore the monsters limb from limb.
Watching the shredded carcasses rain down — carved apart as if they'd thrown themselves into a trap of outspread blades — I let out a genuine whistle of admiration.
Muyeong: Heukyeong-hwanmu — Shadowless: Phantom Dance of the Black Shade.
A technique of her own making, the Opal family's secret art of hidden severance refined one step further.
To think I'd get to see it now — a technique she wasn't supposed to learn until the latter half of the second arc.