Chapter 169
Chapter 169
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 169
Chapter Title: Midterm Evaluation
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The Martial Arts Hall they had come to for the midterm exam.
The Martial Arts students gathered there all wore tense expressions.
Today's midterm evaluation was a chance to cut their six months of training in half at once.
In other words, it was also an opportunity to catch the eye of the high-ranking nobles' heirs.
Naturally, the top performers would be scouted.
So, for the kids, the midterm was a field of opportunity.
Except for one person.
"Haaah..."
A boy stretched his mouth wide open and yawned openly, as if bored out of his mind.
His relaxed demeanor needlessly deflated the other kids.
And that made sense—he was Krash Valheim.
From topping the entrance exams, to taking down a 6-star Erosion Beast on his first mission.
He'd defeated the imperial provincial noble faction and Arshould Freya, Preia's child.
He'd even submitted a proposal to War Emperor Durandal and crushed a World Erosion entity on that very mission.
The second-year kids his age had no choice but to feel intimidated.
His feats were overwhelming, with no one able to keep up.
But that very nonchalance sparked a faint fire in the kids' hearts.
This was Raheln Academy, where the world's top young talents gathered.
Especially in Martial Arts, where pride ran deep.
They were born warriors.
The urge to shatter that strongman's leisure began to creep up.
As that voice said, Krash was deliberately provoking them right now.
The target of his provocation was none other than Mary Diana.
Ever since entering the Martial Arts training grounds, she'd been leaning against the wall, watching Krash intently.
'No matter how much I act all relaxed, Mary won't let her guard down.'
Her brother Glenn's words were starting to make sense.
Mary had clearly sharpened her fangs and regained her peak strength.
Of course, she still had a ways to go to reach her absolute prime.
But the ominous aura radiating from her was undeniable.
Creak!
As everyone was lost in their own thoughts, the door opened, and a pure white cat entered alongside the assistant professor.
The cat walked to the center of the training grounds and plopped down on its haunches.
Ganon Sarsha.
She was the professor for the second-year Martial Arts students.
"Now, I'll explain the midterm exam format."
Ganon started the exam without a hint of hesitation.
Her assistant professor then pulled out a magic projector.
Whirr—
As the magic projector hummed to life, an image appeared in the sky.
It was a mountain.
"This is a mountain artificially created with magic. Inside, illusionary Erosion Beasts have been conjured for you to hunt."
The image then shifted, the mountain divided into zones glowing in rainbow colors.
"From the outer Purple Line to the innermost Red Line, the difficulty and number of Erosion Beasts vary. The Purple Line, with the most, is 1-star, while the Red Line, with the fewest, is 7-star."
The mention of 7-star made the kids murmur.
After all, few here had ever faced a 7-star Erosion Beast.
"Naturally, the deeper you go, the greater the score variance. Clearing all the Orange Line beasts won't even match one Red Line beast."
At that moment, the screen changed again.
This time, it showed a person.
"And here's an additional rule: From the Blue Line inward, student-vs-student combat is permitted."
The students' eyes changed in unison.
"Defeating an opponent lets you claim all the points they've earned so far. The loser is immediately disqualified and barred from re-entry. Failures will take makeup exams, so keep that in mind."
Even with makeups, failing the midterm was practically a disqualification.
'They're ramping up the tension on purpose.'
In World Erosion, safety was never guaranteed.
Variables could arise anywhere, anytime—so even during hunts, they were heightening the pressure.
The exam's intent was clear.
"This is a relative evaluation. Everyone below the median score takes the makeup—remember that."
Ganon brushed her fur as she glanced at the assistant professor.
The assistant quickly prepared a teleportation spell and handed out bracelets to the students.
"The bracelets track points and damage. They're linked to your uniforms, so exceeding 100% damage means instant disqualification."
Krash fastened his bracelet with a click as the final explanation wrapped up.
"Ahaha, this'll be fun!"
Just then, Balok held up his own bracelet with an excited grin.
His small frame was as hyper as ever.
"This isn't the time to call it fun."
Glenn, beside him, shot a warning glance around at the other kids.
"If student combat's allowed, high-scorers become prime targets."
The kids who met Glenn's eyes flinched and looked away guiltily.
The top point-earners here were obviously the Special Class members.
Their superior skills were already proven.
Naturally, the others would eye their points greedily.
Strike when they were worn out from hunting, and you could disqualify them while stealing their score.
"They might even team up."
Karandis rubbed her arms, reading the mood.
"Krash sir, I'm scared. Will you protect me?"
"I'll disqualify you first."
"Don't be mean."
She pouted, lips jutting out.
At that moment, Krash felt a tug on his clothes.
He turned to see Haring standing there with a resolute expression.
"I'll definitely protect you, Krash."
Like a cat vowing to guard its owner.
"Worry about your own score. We need to team up on missions ahead—you can't get disqualified."
Krash smiled at Haring, who flinched and mumbled at his lips.
"...Yeah."
She replied with a sulky expression.
Karandis's eyes widened subtly at the sight.
She'd caught Haring's vibe.
"Lady Haring, don't tell me..."
"I'll call names—enter one by one."
As Karandis tried to speak to Haring, Ganon began roll call.
"Krash Valheim."
Everyone realized the order upon hearing the first name called.
Entrance exam rankings.
'Devious.'
This was a reminder to the kids of who they needed to beat in the midterm.
Krash stepped to the entrance.
All eyes locked onto him.
Admiration, respect, rivalry, envy.
A jumble of emotions washed over him.
Not a bad feeling.
He planned to lead from the front, making the ones behind chase him—a trailblazer's role.
For the future, he had to stay at the top.
Bathed in their gazes, Krash spotted the fake Arthur among them.
He couldn't read the emotions in Fake Arthur's eyes.
But knowing the real Arthur lurked beyond them tensed his body.
'Come on.'
Let's shake up this midterm big time.
With that resolve, Krash stepped into the spatial magic portal.
In an instant, the scenery shifted with a flash of light.
The first thing to enter Krash's eyes was a forest.
It looked like an ordinary forest.
But the bracelet on his wrist glowed purple.
This was the midterm exam site.
Krash noticed a red circle drawn beneath his feet.
Lifting his hand met a transparent barrier.
Wait until everyone enters, no doubt.
As expected of Raheln Academy, the world's top talent incubator.
They'd poured magic into this exam.
How long did Krash wait?
Soon, the red circle vanished, and a breeze blew in.
The scent hitting him late suggested a nearby sea.
'Some remote island.'
They'd even found a place like this for the test.
The sound rang from the sky.
Looking up, "Sebas, 2nd Year" was written there, followed by the number 1.
Someone had scored the first kill in the Purple Line.
Krash let out a hollow chuckle.
Devious indeed—they even displayed earned points in the sky.
"Now the top scorer's definitely getting targeted."
"Simple."
Krash lightly stretched his legs.
Whoosh!
In that instant, the heat of Annihilation Flame Erosion surged through his body.
His physique had reached a level where he could maintain Annihilation Flame Erosion constantly.
"Straight to the Red Line."
A 7-star Erosion Beast.
Let's see if he could take it down.
The island prepared for the midterm evaluation.
In a room on that exam island lined with multiple screens sat a single white cat.
Behind the cat stood several assistant professors and TAs with grim faces.
The reason for their stiffness was simple.
An unexpected figure loomed behind them.
"Can't you show some consideration for the assistant professors and TAs?"
The cat watching the screens—Professor Ganon—spoke up.
The one who heard snorted dismissively.
"Observing the exam? I have the qualifications."
"Sure, you more than qualify. It's fine for me, but the others are dying inside."
Massive muscles bulging through his suit.
Threatening scars across his body.
A frame that didn't seem human.
He was the former Heavenly Strongest, now retired Raheln Academy headmaster—former War Emperor Durandal.
With the headmaster observing the midterm.
The assistants and TAs were grading scores while sweating bullets.
"So, how are the second-years doing?"
Durandal's question drew a sigh from Ganon.
"Their overall skill is undoubtedly strong."
Raheln Academy gathered the world's flying talents.
It had to be good.
"But compared to the first-years, they're overwhelmingly behind."
Still, that didn't make them the best.
Raheln's first-years came from the most brutal entrance exam ever.
The academy's inaugural class drew every top student from 15 to 19.
Thus, the handpicked first-years dominated their generation.
In contrast, the second-years clearly lagged.
Half were just turning 15, for starters.
Even the older ones included rejects from the first exam.
The quality gap was obvious.
It was inevitable, really.
All the prime talents had been scooped up in the first class.
Second-years couldn't help but fall short.
"And individually?"
Durandal flashed a meaningful smile.
Ganon sighed shortly, knowing what it meant.
"Even individually, the first-years are superior."
The top first-years were generational talents anywhere.
Their excellence was undeniable.
But Ganon knew one exception.
Someone not just keeping up, but surpassing them.
Krash Valheim.
Current top second-year Martial Arts student.
The talk of the academy since enrollment.
"Krash won't fall behind the first-years."
Not just him—the whole Special Class matched first-year power.
But Krash stood out even among them.
Even the harsh grader Ganon often thought so.
This kid would stir up something big later.
"Haha, right?"
Durandal chuckled in satisfaction.
Ganon eyed him disapprovingly, aware of his aims from the start.
"You like Student Krash that much?"
Durandal gazed at the screen.
Krash was charging straight ahead without pause.
Clearly heading for the Red Line.
Not a hint of defeat against an unavoidable 7-star for a rookie—those eyes appealed to him in every way.
"First guy I've seen fiercer than my old friend."
Ganon perked up at that.
"Comparing him to the Sword Emperor?"
Durandal's era as Heavenly Strongest.
His comrade and close friend, the Sword Emperor.
Even Valheim, famed for the sword, held him in high regard.
The one who claimed the Sword Emperor title, passing Martial Emperor to Balok Valheim.
Recalling the now-gone man, Durandal smiled slowly.
"That friend had some real venom."
His final burst of ferocity stuck in memory.
Glancing back at Krash, Durandal spoke.
"That's why I'm pondering."
Whether to give that venomous student a gift to keep him from stumbling.
A star to light the world can't lose its shine.
Ganon's eyes widened slightly.
"...He's the Martial Emperor's son."
Too much favor might concentrate power in Valheim.
World balance crumbles, and cracks appear somewhere nine times out of ten.
Durandal's face remained unchanged at the implied question.
"One of the previous Sephira's prophecies lingers."
The astrologer clan Sephira.
Durandal remembered clearly what their former head left behind.
"A black star swallowed, atop it one star leads countless others in pursuit."
"Such vague words to interpret..."
"Then make that star shine brightest to draw more followers."
Ganon fell silent.
Instead, he watched Krash on the screen.
The others here might not grasp Durandal's words.
But Ganon did.
'War Emperor's successor.'
He'd chosen who to pass his lifetime secret arts to.