To an Unobtrusive Spot

Estelle's teleport magic whisked us to a quiet corner away from prying eyes, and we joined a much shorter line. After flashing our online registration slips, we finally got our number—32—and wrapped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up everything we needed to do before the exam started.

"Wanna head home first? I've got the magic exam this afternoon too, and waiting around would take forever."

Even handling these relatively light pre-exam chores took about thirty minutes. The actual waiting happened in a separate lounge, so I couldn't stick with Estelle anyway. Number 32 was pretty far back in the queue, meaning after this sword exam wrapped up, we'd grab lunch, then I'd get my number for the afternoon magic test and head to yet another lounge to wait it out.

"Staying home sounds boring, though."

"Help your parents with the farm, then."

"Oh, yeah. That'd actually be useful."

Estelle pitching in anywhere always helped. The girl was a quick study who excelled at everything, after all. Compared to her, I was...

...just a really fucking awesome village guy with a bunch of bizarre titles. No, seriously, when the hell was this annoying-ass village guy label gonna disappear? Couldn't it switch to something like academy prep student already?

"Alright, I'll head in first. Good luck on the exam. Oh, right—scarecrows go here."

Estelle set down the bag stuffed with scarecrows she'd brought and left. Finally, I stepped into the lounge. No need to feel embarrassed about carrying scarecrows—most people inside had them too.

...Though nobody had brought as many as me.

But hey, if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you're gonna show off, better bring extras in case they break, right?

"Whoa, that's a lot of scarecrows you got there."

As I mulled that over, the guy next to me struck up a conversation.

"Yeah. The rules say you're done if you run out during the demo."

"True, but you really think these tough bastards are gonna break?"

Huh? Wasn't that the point?

I had no idea how sturdy his were, but mine came from Duncan, and I'd shattered hundreds already. Extras were just smart prep.

"Haha, mine break pretty easy."

"Wait, these do? Looks like they're made from top-grade stuff."

Was this guy a scarecrow expert or something?

"Prime wood and all, but mine snap quick. You must be crazy strong. Oh, right—I'm Matty, from Wesker Viscounty."

Wesker was closer to the capital than my Der Viscounty, a booming trade hub famous for food and bakeries. Word was even imperial royals popped down from the capital to eat there. Kinda like Daejeon back in my old Korean life, but with better seafood and as a coastal city—no chicken empire vibes.

"I'm Theo, farmer from Der Viscounty."

Not my job technically—my parents were the farmers—but it'd been my life, so close enough.

"Der? You must've traveled forever."

His nonstop chatter was starting to grate a bit when...

"Alright, exam starts now. Enter one by one in the order on your slips. Smartphones okay in here, but no calls. Once you're in the exam room, no phones—got it?"

The proctor stepped in with a rundown of rules and timing.

"Max time is one hour, no minimum. Relax and do your best. Questions?"

No minimum meant they judged power and talent, not duration. Crush it in one minute ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or drag it out for an hour—same score if the performance matched.

"Uh, I heard royals are observing today... Any idea who?"

Oh yeah, Iris had mentioned spectating and dipped early. Hope she made it safe.

"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, Her Majesty the Empress, and Crown Princess Iris are all here."

"Whoaaa!"

"No way, for real?!"

"Holy shit, it's legit!"

The lounge erupted—the silence shattered by the bombshell.

What? They were hyped over the Emperor and Empress? Wasn't this normal?

"Quiet down. Any other questions?"

"Me!"

"Yes?"

"If fragments fly during sword demo and hit spectators or proctors... what happens?"

Good question. Proctors were all nobles—commoners who climbed that high got titles and appointments. And the audience? Straight-up royals. Hitting them would be a disaster.

"The spectator and proctor areas are shielded by royal mages, so don't sweat it. But if you punch through that magic? You'd top the academy over every noble. Never happened since opening day, anyway. No liability here—go all out."

The lounge went quiet post-explanation.

"No more questions? Exam starts now."

32nd meant a wait. As the proctor left and Matty's yapping resumed, I half-tuned him out, mentally rehearsing my exam plan one more time.

"Hello! 31st applicant, Peter!"

"Go ahead, Peter. Show us what you've got."

The grassy exam field resembled a vast meadow. Applicants demoed one by one, but even at 31, the proctors looked bored.

"No good ones this round."

"Wonder how many'll scrape the cutoff."

"Gotta wait for magic exams for real talent."

They chatted freely, out of earshot from the kid struggling to plant his scarecrow.

"This one's a total greenhorn..."

He couldn't even stake it right, wobbling from his heavy sword's weight.

"Minus ten to start."

Most thought the exam began at draw, but it started the second you entered the field.

"Here I go!"

Peter finally got it set and swung hard—but dropped the too-heavy blade.

"Good effort."

Anything else was fine, but dropping your sword as a swordsman? Instant death in real combat. Exam over.

"Sniff... Shouldn't have picked such a heavy one..."

The proctors sighed as he sobbed out.

"Next applicant."

"Yes, sir."

After that pitiful showing...

"Hello, 32nd applicant, Theo."

A plain-looking guy strolled in light-footed, carrying a dozen-plus scarecrows on his back—and wielding a wooden practice sword, not even real steel.

"How many scarecrows... did he bring?"

No one had brought more than two all day. Seeing Theo tote that many effortlessly, the proctors couldn't hide their surprise.