Not Buying It (1)
Hmm?
Bronson Clyne stared straight at Cadet No. 174, who came charging at him head-on.
An illusion.
The boy's appearance and movements looked no different from the real thing, yet the presence he felt was coming from somewhere other than directly in front of him.
So it's an ability that manipulates vision alone?
Bronson swung his sword again as he thought.
Wham-!
Crash—
A heavy weight met the hilt of his blade, followed by the sound of something tumbling away across the floor.
This is getting a little dull.
It was the same pattern repeating itself for the umpteenth time now. Every attack felt monotonous, and frankly, the boy's skill was falling well short of what Bronson had hoped for.
At the very least, surely that tumbling sound could be made more convincing.
Before he knew it, the interest that had brimmed in his expression had faded into boredom.
Well, the talent is genuinely exceptional — but that's as far as it goes.
Having roughly gauged Cadet No. 174's limits, Bronson was just deciding to wrap things up when—
Swish—
"…?!"
The instant he let his guard slip, a sharp cutting sound rang out, and the sensation of something keen slicing into his side drove a spike straight through his bored mind.
He twisted his body away in a flustered hurry, and there stood Cadet No. 174, sword smeared with blood, chest heaving for breath.
"What the… ah."
Just as a flash of confusion crossed Bronson's face, he caught the presence shifting to yet another location and swung his hand.
Wham-!
And then he felt it — that familiar sensation of something solid catching against his hand.
"Ghhk…!"
Crash—!
A groan and the sound of something rolling away, all at once.
This time was different. For a moment, he genuinely couldn't tell real from fake.
So he can manipulate senses beyond just sight, then.
Had he planned this from the start — baiting him into dropping his guard?
Well, now this is getting interesting.
Interest flickered back to life in Bronson's languid expression. He resolved to play with the boy a little longer, and before he knew it, he was resetting his stance just as he had at the very beginning.
Come on, then. Where will it be? Push that ability of yours harder.
Bronson had all but forgotten this was supposed to be an additional examination — he was simply enjoying himself now.
Rayna's worry had become reality, and in the middle of it all, he closed his eyes and focused his mind, trying to pin down the cadet's position.
Where… where will it come from this time…?
He'd gone tumbling off in that direction, so presumably the boy would circle back from roughly the same side?
Thinking this, Bronson began feeling for his presence.
And felt it — right beside him.
Yes… no, wait, what?
Why was he right next to him?
The instant panic seized him, he frantically twisted his body —
Shing—
"…!!"
His vision warped for a split second, and then a sword was hanging there, right in front of his nose.
"What the…."
What on earth was happening?
Don't tell me this is an illusion too?
He gathered his senses and focused once more, but the only presence he could feel came from the grey-haired boy holding a blade to his very eyes.
In other words, this situation was real.
Oh. So that's how it was.
As Bronson wondered what could have happened, his sharp mind pieced it together in a heartbeat.
He charged in close enough to reach my fist, slipped out right before impact, then used an illusion to fake himself being knocked away.
"Hah… hahh…"
Bronson looked at Cadet No. 174, who stood with his sword still leveled at him, breathing hard, with eyes full of fascination.
There was drool at the corner of the boy's mouth from the shock of taking Bronson's blow, and his complexion was ghostly pale — he must have burned through his mana recklessly.
And yet.
"…Impressive."
The boy had landed a hit on him.
Yes, he hadn't known the extent of his opponent's ability, and yes, he'd let his guard down — but the man called the First Sword of a Kingdom had just taken a hit from someone who was, at most, a mere applicant.
Did that even make sense?
No — and what's more…
Wasn't this student still far from fully grown?
Right now, the boy didn't know how to conceal his presence, which was why Bronson had seen through him — but what if he learned to hide it, and wielded longer-lasting, more vivid illusions with practiced mastery?
…He'd be monstrous.
His combat instincts just now had been top-tier as well. For a moment, Bronson pictured what this boy would become once he'd fully matured — and his body shuddered.
I have to get this cadet. Whatever it takes.
"Instructor?"
So absorbed was he in staring at the boy that he never even noticed he'd started calling Lucian a cadet instead of an applicant in his mind. Having barely steadied himself, Lucian sheathed his sword and asked.
Snapping back to his senses, Bronson poured his sincerity into the praise.
"…Impressive."
"I'm sorry?"
"I said you were impressive. I let my guard down, yes — but for a brand-new cadet… no, for a mere applicant to land a hit on me? That's a truly remarkable thing."
"Haha…"
Lucian let out a laugh that sounded somehow empty.
"So then — did I pass?"
And followed it with a rather deflated question.
Did he pass?
"Of course. You won't just pass — you'll be entering the Academy with one of the highest scores we've seen. You should be proud."
Did this boy have any idea what an extraordinary feat he had just accomplished?
"Haha, is that… so?"
Lucian answered with an awkward smile, and the moment Bronson nodded in satisfaction, the boy crumpled straight to the ground.
Hm?
No, hold on.
Why was he falling over?
By the time Bronson's belated reaction registered the question, Lucian had already collapsed heavily onto the floor.
"Medics! Get the medics in here!"
"You insane bastard! I told you not to go hitting applicants so hard!! Something like this was bound to happen!!"
…Ah.
Only when he spotted Rayna sprinting toward him from across the arena, cursing him out, did Bronson finally grasp his mistake.
I failed to hold back my strength.
Well, students were supposed to be trained hard — that was simply how it was done.
He could just think of it as giving the boy a preview of things to come.
Just as Bronson flashed a shameless grin —
FWOOSH—!
"Hup?!"
"This is! Exactly why! I told you! Not to go overboard, you lunatic… no. Too many eyes on us here. Come with me."
In an instant, Rayna had him by the collar and was dragging him off to who-knew-where.
"……"
"……"
"……"
All that remained were the spectators, struck dumb by the storm that had swept through without warning.
Everyone — even the proctors — was too stunned to gather themselves, and a thick, heavy silence settled over the examination grounds.
"N-next! Applicant No. 175! Please step up to the arena!"
Only after a considerable stretch of time did a proctor barely recover his wits and resume the examinations.
"…What on earth just happened?"
Left alone amid it all, Seria could only murmur blankly to herself.
"…I don't recognize this ceiling."
It wasn't the ceiling of the inn where I'd spent the past week sleeping.
What was going on?
Oh — wait, don't tell me.
Everything so far had been a dream, and I'd woken up back in the real world — something like that?
No. Not it.
If that were the case, there's no way I wouldn't recognize the ceiling.
I had my own ceiling memorized down to every peeled-off strip of wallpaper and every water stain — there was no forgetting it.
"So then where is this…"
I muttered as I hauled my aching body upright.
The place I'd woken up in was a room that was blindingly white on all four sides.
The ceiling and every wall were papered over in white, and even the floor was tiled in white — a space practically engineered to drive a person straight into insanity.
"Oh. It's the infirmary."
The only place in the entire Academy stubborn enough to cling to this asylum-grade interior design was the medical wing.
Let me retrace my memory… I took a vicious beating from Bronson, barely managed to land one hit in return, and then blacked out.
Honestly, when that first blow landed, it hurt so much I nearly just gave up on the spot — but I stubbornly held on out of sheer pride, the impacts piled up, and apparently that's what did me in.
Layering illusions over an opponent far above my level must have drained my mana at a ridiculous rate too…
"Correct answer."
Huh? What?
I was still sorting through my thoughts when an unfamiliar voice suddenly spoke up.
"Who…?"
I whipped my head around in alarm to find a woman leaning against the doorway.
Fiery red hair that stood in stark contrast to Seria's, and a chest that contrasted just as starkly.
Not that Seria was exactly small herself, but…
No.
Smack!
I slapped both my cheeks with both hands, quick and sharp.
What am I doing right now?
While I put on that whole parade of lunatic behavior in front of a complete stranger, she simply watched me with an amused, unreadable smile and introduced herself.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Rayna Digitalis, Chief Instructor of the Magic Department at Union Academy."
"Ah."
Like with Bronson, the moment I heard her name, the image from the game overlapped with the woman before me and I remembered exactly who she was.
Rayna Digitalis.
A mage from the mage tower of the Rayon Empire — the single most powerful faction in the world of Union Academy.
According to her lore, she'd graduated from the Academy and rocketed through the ranks at the mage tower from a young age, until she got sick of the old geezers running the place and came back to teach.
My guess? All those memories of gnashing her teeth at her own instructors' abuses had evolved, under a wait, if I become an instructor, doesn't that mean I get to torment students instead? That's the ultimate stress-relief gig. Who's going to stop me? sort of winner-takes-all mindset, into exactly this.
She was a mage of considerable renown, so passing a few examinations to become an instructor was easy enough, and she'd spent nearly a decade in the role, rising all the way to Chief Instructor of the Magic Department.
Unlike Bronson, she didn't carry any grandiose epithet like the Empire's greatest mage — but given the sheer gap in national power between an empire and a mere kingdom, her skill fell nowhere far short of his.
Not far short, mind you — in actual fact, Bronson was the stronger of the two.
If Bronson sat just below the pinnacle of the setting's power scale, Rayna was maybe half a step beneath him.
"The pleasure's mine. I'm Lucian Peyote. Though — what brings someone as distinguished as yourself to a place like this?"
Distinguished or not, the fact remained that she was very distinguished — and it left me utterly dumbfounded.
By game logic, she was a character I knew like the back of my hand, but this world wasn't just a game. It was reality.
Getting pummeled by Bronson had beaten that truth into me all over again.
So, mapping this situation onto the real world…?
I'd collapsed in the middle of the entrance exam for some ultra-elite university, and when I came to, one of the school's top executives was standing right in front of me.
Except it was a supranational university, and that executive carried authority on the level of a former cabinet minister — the kind of person who could slap you across the face and get away with it.
Thinking of it that way, a tension I hadn't felt before began to creep in.
I swallowed hard and looked at Rayna, and she broke into a warm smile.
"Don't be so tense — I didn't come bearing bad news. One of our own instructors messed up and got you hurt, so I'm just here on a get-well visit."
"Ah, I see…"
"Anyway, I was genuinely stunned. I know Bronson had his guard down, but for you to land a hit on him."
Having said that, she muttered something to herself for a moment, then abruptly closed the distance and asked:
"Forgive me for being intrusive — but you'll be enrolling soon enough, so you'd learn it anyway. Your ability is Illusion? Am I right?"
"Ah — yes, that's correct."
She must have heard it from Bronson.
Or perhaps she'd deduced it herself.
Not that how she found out mattered much in the end.
She evidently felt the same, because she didn't bother explaining. Instead, she fired off a question out of nowhere.
"Hmm, I see. And… you use a sword, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I'm sorry?"
What kind of question was that?
As I stared at her in confusion —
"Cadet Lucian. How would you like to transfer into the Magic Department?"
Rayna's eyes gleaming with naked greed, made me an utterly unexpected offer.
No, seriously — what is even happening right now?