Chapter 103
Chapter 103
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Before the Raheln Academy Entrance Exam
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Spring.
The season welcoming new beginnings.
When spring was in full bloom.
A man walked down the corridor, arms full of documents.
He was none other than Yi, an associate professor at Raheln Academy.
Last year had been a storm.
How many battles had they fought right from the academy's launch?
The students had one by one chased their own interests, clashing in endless faction wars. The professors had dashed about like madmen just to contain the constant accidents.
Raheln Academy had truly weathered a measles outbreak.
Of course, after suffering through it, things had started settling down a bit lately.
Thanks to a few standout students gradually taking the reins of their factions.
Just when stability seemed within reach.
This spring brought another wave of freshmen.
'Damn.'
The associate professor slapped a hand over his face.
He could already picture the chaos if these new freshmen flooded into a barely stabilized academy.
Honestly, he felt like grabbing the principal by the collar and demanding no incoming class.
But as a mere associate professor, he had no power for that.
His task today?
Reviewing the list of examinees for the academy's entrance exam.
Last year's entrance ceremony had been pandemonium.
This time, the professors had all vowed to thoroughly vet the examinees and run the tests without a hitch.
Clunk!
He kicked open the door to the associate professors' office and strode in.
Several bleary-eyed colleagues glanced up before returning to their stacks of papers.
They were all in the same boat.
'Why is this rotten academy booming like crazy?'
Raheln Academy: founded on the singular dream of training the world's greatest heroes.
Built by pooling resources from the empire, the four kingdoms, and countless smaller realms.
As such, it was meant to be a beacon of unity, everyone pulling together.
That hope had shattered in an instant.
Students steeped to the gills in their factions weren't here to become heroes guarding the world from Erosion—they only cared about their own nations' gains.
'The world's gone rotten.'
He'd thought newly minted adults might be different.
But he'd learned how cunning and vicious they were within days of arriving.
'Think about it too much, and my irritable bowel flares up again.'
Associate Professor Hamel set down his papers and took a seat.
Best to just grind through the work today.
"Hamel, you just getting started?"
At that moment, from the sunlit side of the room.
A woman sipping tea flashed a leisurely smile.
Her black hair framed a striking beauty mark just below her eye. She was another associate professor, Kairan.
Why was she so relaxed?
Simple: she was the unluckiest soul assigned to oversee this year's entrance exam.
It had been pure lottery.
The renowned professors who'd made names before joining had all refused, claiming oversight was associate work.
Forced into a draw, the associate professors had grudgingly played lots.
And Kairan had drawn the short straw.
So everyone agreed: she could skip the paperwork.
"...I hope the entrance ceremony starts soon."
By then, all freshmen would be selected.
Hamel pitied Kairan, who clearly awaited that day, and turned back to his papers.
That was when he flipped to the first page.
"Fuck?"
The curse slipped out, and every eye snapped to him.
You weren't supposed to curse while reviewing applicant files.
"Who was that? Who just said fuck?"
"Please, let's at least keep the entrance exam quiet."
The associate professors whined.
Kairan, the exam overseer, flinched at every curse.
It was her future on the line.
Meanwhile, Hamel covered his face.
The name on the application demanded it.
'Fourth Imperial Princess, Sigrin Epania.'
Fifteen years old this year. Rumored genius with the empire's sharpest mind.
Safe to say she'd be the empire faction's core among this incoming class.
Hamel's head already throbbed.
Spotting a high-risk applicant on page one.
And her listed escort? The Broadblade.
Hamel paled; he'd heard of her notoriety.
'At least she's applying to Literature major, Special Studies minor.'
Raheln Academy divided into five departments.
Martial Studies, emphasizing combat.
Literature, emphasizing scholarship.
Divine Studies, emphasizing faith.
Magic Studies, researching sorcery.
And Special Studies, for specialized skills apart from the rest.
Students picked one main department and one sub.
Sigrin at least eyed the calmer Literature track.
Calmer relative to others, anyway.
The cutthroat intellectual battles there taxed even associate professors.
But at least it looked the quietest on the surface.
'Silver lining, I guess.'
Literature used academy-provided tests, scored straightforwardly.
No exam mishaps likely.
Still, high-risk. He set her file aside and scanned the rest.
"Fuck."
Another curse escaped him.
Eyes converged again, but Hamel just glared at the paper.
The name on the next page drilled agony into his skull.
'Mary Diana?'
The madwoman who'd nearly killed Fourth Princess Sigrin Epania at the hands of a World Erosion entity.
Attempted imperial assassination, Erosion or not.
Rumors said her family had disowned her, execution date even set.
How had she dodged the axe and filed for admission?
'Admitting the princess's near-murderer alongside her?'
Hamel couldn't make sense of it.
It defied all logic.
Then he spotted the special notation.
'...Branded by the imperial family.'
The Epania Empire's brand: bare fangs at the imperial house, and your brain pulverizes on the spot.
It was stamped on Mary Diana.
'And the trigger's held by Sigrin Epania?'
Hamel's eyes narrowed.
Mary Diana had once been a Sword of the Empire candidate, owner of a Heavenly Martial Body.
The empire hadn't wanted to discard that card outright. Instead, they'd collared her as an imperial hound.
Problem: Sigrin Epania held the leash.
Given Mary's target had been the fourth princess, it was a natural step.
'But there's more to it.'
Maybe Sigrin had spared her execution.
Three years in a magic tower teaches you to chant spells.
After witnessing countless power plays at Raheln, Hamel could read the outlines now.
A thick, murky vibe hung in the air.
'Another high-risk.'
Her main: Martial Studies. Sub: Special Studies.
The Special sub nagged at him, but he pushed it aside.
Plenty of files left.
The moment Hamel grabbed the next.
"Shi."
Not even a full curse now.
He sighed, wondering if all the crazies had landed in his stack.
First name that jumped out: Valheim.
The world's strongest house. A demon den birthing heroes unending.
Their youngest, Krash Valheim.
His name was right there.
Hamel's head felt ready to split.
He thought of Charlotte Valheim, one of the academy's top headaches even now.
Sword Saint Charlotte Valheim.
True to her title, she wielded Raheln's finest blade.
And its biggest problem child.
Touch her, and she'd smash you into the floor without a second's hesitation.
Specialty: never hiding her temper.
Hobby: forcing eye contact to yield.
Even Hamel, an associate professor, found her terrifying. Charlotte's eyes held almost no spark.
And now her little brother was coming.
'Pretty sure I've heard a few rumors about the Valheim runt.'
Hamel dredged his memory.
Valheim's youngest: halfwit. Lately, rumors of change.
Scuttlebutt on him piled tail on tail.
'But the buzz died down a bit at some point.'
Even whispers that his "rebirth" was bunk.
Whatever. Valheim was Valheim.
Another eye of the storm guaranteed.
Main: Martial Studies. Sub: Special Studies.
Again with the Special.
He sighed and set it aside.
Back to scanning.
'Not any easier than last year, that's for sure.'
Every flip brought a major house scion or equivalent. Deep sighs all around.
Families who'd watched a year now rushed applications after hearing Raheln's tales.
'Hell, even a direct Eagrit lineage.'
Red Magic Tower flashed in mind. Magic Studies would be trouble too.
'More than that, weird how many high-risks picked Special Studies as sub.'
Eagrit direct had it too. Hamel frowned puzzled.
Then the next page revealed a name.
'Arthur Gramalte.'
Plain name. He tossed it to the regular pile.
The high-risk stack kept growing after that.
And each time, Hamel missed Kairan's lips quivering way off in the distance.
A colossal tree piercing the heavens, propping up the clouds.
Divine Tree.
World Tree.
Shifting hues with the seasons, scattering pink petals come spring. Beneath it sprawled a castle as vast as the tree itself: Raheln Academy.
Student dorms included, it rivaled a city in scale. Shielded by the World Tree's power against World Erosion incursions, it bore the ambition of world's premier academy.
True to that, Raheln's debut had unleashed a storm of talent.
That stormy first year had just wrapped.
New storms now battered Raheln once more.
Clop, clop-
A carriage rattled along. Inside, dark blue hair parted as eyes slowly opened.
He looked about eighteen, tall and striking. He turned to the window.
World Tree petals fluttered past.
The world drowned in pink beauty that would've drawn awe.
But he felt nothing.
He'd seen it to death.
"Finally here."
The mutter belonged to Krash Valheim.
Here at last for the long-awaited Raheln Academy exam.
"Excited?"
A rare voice—not a thought. Krash turned.
A crow perched ahead, preening its wings.
His master. World Erosion entity, the Undying One from Crimson Garden.
"Excited my ass."
Krash just swallowed a hollow chuckle.
This place had once been his escape.
Better than skulking under Valheim's gaze.
But Raheln hadn't sheltered him either.
The Valheim name had choked him relentlessly here too.
'Different this time, though.'
Krash raised a hand casually.
Lightning and black flame coursed over it.
He was utterly transformed from before.
This Raheln would be unimaginable to his past self.
"That excited? Here's a heads-up."
Despite denying it moments ago.
Krash shot Crimson Garden an irritated glance.
"Don't use that thing you just mastered in the entrance exam."
That was it.
Krash sighed. What nonsense.
"Like I'd ever need it for the exam?"
"Don't you love wasting effort in dumb spots?"
Crimson Garden glared. Krash averted his eyes.
"It's a proper warning, so listen. Output control's tricky, right? You aiming to kill someone in the exam?"
A few he wouldn't mind killing.
But Krash nodded vaguely.
No plans to judge with regression knowledge like in Pendal.
Trash would just meet a fitting end, of course.
"Here, take this."
Crimson Garden tossed a brooch at Krash.
He caught it. It explained.
"Voice transmitter. Show a crow in the academy, and someone'll recall the Krad mess."
"Smart call."
Mary had seen it in the empire.
Krash tucked the brooch away securely.
"Crim, what about you?"
"I'll fly around as needed. You know."
Fair enough.
Clunk-
The carriage halted with a jolt.
"Lord Krash, we've arrived."
Krash heard the voice outside, opened the door.
Stepped down the carriage stairs to find a petite maid awaiting.
Rich brown hair, ash-gray eyes. Eerily like someone he knew well.
She was Alicia, daughter of Aliod.
If not for her childhood albinism stunting her growth, she'd be Aliod in female form.
Aliod was head steward of Green Pine Pavilion.
With Krash now an adult, a personal butler was pointless anyway.
He couldn't follow even if wanted.
So Aliod had sent his daughter instead.
Post-cure, he'd drilled into Alicia her life debt to Krash. Pay it faithfully.
She'd serve as his maid without fail, he trusted.
Result: Krash had said he'd go alone.
But Aliod insisted she attend even for rest times. No choice; she'd come.
"Good work, Alicia."
"Not at all."
She'd insisted he rest easy inside, staying perched on the driver's seat the whole way.
His thanks drew a polite bow.
Krash cracked a brief wry smile.
Pure Aliod.
Her speech dripped excessive honorifics, but calling it out was habit now.
One difference from Aliod, though.
"Your skirt hem's flipped up."
Still green in spots.
"Ah, s-sorry!"
Her rigid courtesy cracked.
Face flushing crimson, she hastily smoothed her skirt. Reminded him of Aliod's wife.
Spot-on vibe. Hereditary, probably.
"I'll take the exam. Head to the servants' waiting area. Meet you after."
"Yes, I'll take the luggage and wait there."
Usually, luggage came post-pass.
But Krash—and Aliod—never doubted he'd pass.
Aliod had witnessed the growth firsthand.
As Alicia bowed and departed.
Crimson Garden slipped from the carriage, soaring skyward.
Krash followed with his gaze. Beneath the World Tree loomed Raheln Academy's sprawl.
Martial exam venue: Martial Hall, naturally.
Wondering how many familiar faces, Krash set off.
The more he walked, the denser the crowds grew.
So many here for Raheln's exam.
'Easily over a thousand.'
How had he passed back then?
Barely scraped by at the tail end, he recalled.
Mostly because his opponent panicked at the Valheim name mid-exam.
'No need to dwell.'
Mood soured, Krash scowled.
That instant.
Thud-
A hurrier from behind slammed into his shoulder.
His Sixth Sense could've dodged, but the throng left no room.
Krash brushed his shoulder, turned.
A buffalo-hulked brute stood there.
Clothes strained to bursting—not quite human.
Problem: Krash knew the face.
Empire martial tournament entrant to Raheln.
Prelims of Krash's own past outing: one-shotted by this muscle pig.
Here of all places.
Stubbornly gunning for admission still.
What a coincidence.
The muscle pig scowled fiercely.
"Hey, bump me and stare?"
Krash blinked at the response.
The pig didn't recognize him at all.
'Right, that was as Krad.'
Look and build worlds apart now. Fair enough.
Time to jog the memory.
Exact words from then.
"You stared at me, piglet."
"Wha-what, pig?!"
The words ignited the muscle pig's eyes to raging buffalo.
He charged Krash heedless of the crowd.
Krash raised a hand watching.
The pig found the motion familiar somehow.
Deja vu hit hard.
Definitely.
Surely.
That martial tournament... same vibe.
As doubts swirled, before they cleared—Krash struck first.
His fist buried in the pig's face.
"Oink?!"
Short squeal, body launched airborne.
Inch Strength
The bonus Inch Strength effect rocketed him higher midair.
"Kyaa!"
"Uwaa?!"
Onlookers bound for Martial Hall screamed, scattering from the falling bulk.
He hit the ground rolling. Stars wheeled before his eyes.
Caw!
A crow cry from above. As consciousness faded, the muscle pig recalled the tournament.
Flying skyward after eating one from that weird squinting kid.
"Cough, hek, th-this..."
His mutter trailed off. Body shuddered, eyes rolled back, out cold.
Krash eyed him, dusted his hands lightly.
"Bump someone's shoulder? Apologize first."
Hoping the manners injection stuck this time.