An Unexpected Outcome
Four hundred.
That was the number of applicants who had passed before Seras's eyes today alone.
Of that number, precious few had been talented enough to make her eyes gleam.
After all, in nearly eleven years of serving as an examiner, how many incoming students had ever truly caught her eye? A handful, at most.
And so the next group arrived. Without so much as a glance at the four applicants who filed in, she proceeded with the examination exactly as protocol demanded.
Mana measurement was underway, and she was idly tapping the back of her pen against the paper, when a calm female voice rang out.
"Blue."
Hoh.
A quiet murmur of admiration escaped her as an eyebrow rose. Blue meant a Mana Manifestation of Rank A — a result rare even among the current second-years, let alone new applicants.
Next, Seras lifted her head slightly to find the source of the voice for the physical assessment. At the far left, by her measure, sat a blonde girl whose face betrayed not a trace of nervousness.
Not bad at all.
Peering through her Eye of Insight at the applicant's physical aptitude — one Elisha Krochel — she nodded with considerable satisfaction.
Truly impressive for an incoming student. Her body was already well-conditioned, and her future capacity for growth looked promising as well. Judged on its current state alone, a B would have been perfectly defensible, but she seemed worth an A — so Seras resolved to grade her generously.
"Elisha Krochel, is it? Overall assessment A. Passed."
"Yes."
A reaction that suggested passing wasn't the point — that even an A had simply been expected. Seras privately revised her assessment of the girl to shrewd one, and waited for the next voice.
"Green."
"Glick Ostern, is it? Overall assessment F. Failed."
Green meant a mana rating of F. No need to even bother with the physical evaluation — rejection on the spot. Still, identity verification was required, so she glanced up just long enough to confirm his face before lowering her gaze again.
Another applicant's voice followed.
"G-green."
"Ban Serjex, is it? Overall assessment F. Failed."
Candidates washing out at the mana manifestation stage were a dime a dozen every year. Nothing about it surprised her. Seras moved her pen with mechanical indifference and waited for the last applicant in the group to speak.
"Green."
"Bell Dinauer, is it? Overall assessment F. Fai—... hm?"
The same casual pronouncement of failure, the same half-raised head — and then she went utterly still. Frowning, she fixed a long, deliberate stare on the black-haired boy at the end of her sightline.
On the surface, nothing remarkable. She could tell he was solidly built and well-conditioned, but that was the extent of it. Boys like this were a dime a dozen — not just among the Academy's current students, but among the very applicants who had filed past her today.
But what had caught her eye was not the body on display. It was what lay within.
What is this boy?
The body is, in essence, a vessel that holds its contents. True, effort could knead and refine it, gradually expanding its size — but a limit was a limit. Seras's eyes could see that limit at a glance.
And yet this boy — what in the world was she looking at?
The aura she sensed from him right now was not especially large. Respectable for a new student, certainly, but inferior to the Elisha Krochel she had just evaluated.
Unlike the girl, however, there was no limit line waiting at the end of it.
As if the vessel itself — the thing meant to hold his contents — had simply never existed in the first place.
Meaning this body could become a lake. A river. A vast, boundless ocean.
A very long time ago, she had once seen a man who possessed a vessel much like this one. Though the memory had blurred with age, and comparing anyone to that man was almost an insult to comparison itself, given how extraordinary he had been.
That man was the hero of the Empire, once called the Sword Saint — Kalon Schweizer.
He had passed from this world thirty years ago, but she still remembered the aura she had felt from him as a child.
Exactly the same as back then.
It was almost like déjà vu. His present capability couldn't hold a candle to Kalon's, of course — but the size of that endless vessel was a perfect match.
"Hey, you..."
"Yes, Examiner?"
"Yes, you. Do you, by any chance... ah, no. Never mind."
She had wanted to ask whether he had a master — and if so, who — but she shook her head quickly and swallowed the question. A family's name could be learned through the crest, but probing into an applicant's personal affairs was taboo for an examiner.
Swish.
She drew her pen nib through the failure mark written in the corner of Bell Dinauer's application form.
By the letter of the rules, a Mana Manifestation of F-rank meant automatic rejection regardless of physical evaluation. But with a vessel like that, it lay well within her discretion — she who held full authority over the examination — to do something about it.
Once the full circumstances came to light, neither the dean nor the headmaster would have much to say against it.
"...Bell Dinauer. Overall assessment E. Passed."
"Wh-what!? R-really?"
"Don't make me say it twice. Passed."
Her indifferent reply landed, and Bell shot up from his seat with a whoop of joy. No sooner had he done so than the two boys who had just been failed rose from theirs as well.
"E-Examiner! Why does that applicant alone get to pass!?"
"Exactly! We failed with a Mana Manifestation of F too — why is only he passed? This is blatant discrimination!"
She had anticipated the reaction, so she faced the two of them without the slightest disturbance.
"I hold full authority over this examination. And for the past eleven years, I have served as examiner without a single problem. Do you understand what that means?"
It wasn't an explanation, or even a justification. It was the words of a tyrant, plain and simple — this is my standard of judgment, so fall in line. And still, the two men could offer no rebuttal.
Eleven years. Serving as examiner for this Academy — where countless geniuses and prodigies had come and gone over that long span — meant her standards had been accepted as legitimate by her superiors all along the line.
"If you understand, then stop wasting time and get out."
"Ggh...!"
Under Seras's icy send-off, the four rose from their seats and headed for the exit. The two failed boys in particular trudged along, grumbling at the injustice, stomping hard enough to crack the floor.
An interesting one has come in.
Meanwhile, while waiting for the next group, Seras leaned back comfortably against her chair and gave the boy's application form a second, more careful read. And as her eyes traveled down the page from top to bottom—
a faint smile crept onto lips that had been frozen solid as an ice sheet all day.
This year's incoming class might be worth watching.
With that flicker of anticipation, she closed the folder and turned to face the applicants of the next group.
Bell Dinauer.
Taking careful note of that name in the back of her mind.
Even after leaving the examination hall, I was still standing there dumbfounded.
What on earth had gotten me passed? Had the criteria for the overall assessment somehow changed from the original story? That couldn't be it — the other two applicants had been failed on the spot the moment they received F-rank in mana manifestation, same as me. So had some sort of rural quota sprung into existence?
Let's think positive.
Apparently the examiner had her own criteria for judgment, so it wasn't really my place to worry about it. If Seras and I had some kind of personal history, I might have felt a pang of guilt — but we didn't.
Anyway, I'd shelve the questions and go meet up with Rone. If she'd finished before me, she'd probably be waiting at that spot from earlier, and I couldn't very well keep her waiting.
"Excuse me."
Just as I was about to set off, a woman's voice came from behind me. I turned — and standing there was none other than Elisha.
Her turquoise eyes bore into my face with an intensity I could practically feel.
"You, I take it?"
"Yes. Bell Dinauer, was it?"
"That's correct."
I nodded at her words while a question mark bloomed in my head. What business did she have striking up a conversation with me? As I recalled, she'd kept everyone at a considerable distance in the original story too.
"Dinauer... I've never heard of that house. Are you perhaps concealing your status?"
"Concealing my status?"
Her voice pitched upward at the out-of-nowhere question. Hide what status? We were just a family from some backwater village. I was neither royalty nor a saint — what conceivable reason would I have to enter the Academy under a hidden identity?
"If that's not it, then the examiner's announcement of your passing just now doesn't add up. You're aware that an F-rank mana manifestation means rejection, aren't you, Mister Dinauer?"
"Well, yes..."
As if I could possibly not know. I'd been wondering the exact same thing until a few minutes ago.
So, in short — Elisha wanted to say I was some high-ranking noble who'd gotten in through a backroom deal. If so, honestly, it stung a little. I'll admit the circumstances were suspicious enough to invite doubt, but who on earth hears that accusation out of the blue and finds it pleasant?
"I understand what you're trying to say, Lady Krochel, but I'm sure you know this as well as anyone — when it comes to admission to the Academy, not even royalty is granted an exception."
I cut in before Elisha could press her line of questioning any further. This Academy was no pushover to begin with. Once you were branded as unfit for admission, you'd be failed without mercy even if you were the heir to one of the Empire's foremost houses.
That was Delos Academy. And of that fact, no one was more keenly aware than Elisha herself — a girl draped in the most dazzling retinue of connections in the Empire.
"...You're right. My apologies. That wasn't the spirit in which I meant it, though."
At my pointed remark, Elisha gave an honest nod, looking as though she accepted it. I was grateful she'd understood — but that trailing remark bothered me. If she hadn't meant it that way, then what had she meant?
"I apologize for my slip of the tongue earlier. The reason I asked about your hidden status was something else entirely... though I never imagined it would come across like that."
She clearly had no intention of elaborating on that "something else." I had no particular desire to dig it out of her at a first meeting anyway, so I nodded and decided to leave it there.
"No, I'm the one who should apologize for being so touchy. To be honest, I was still in a daze over the whole thing — I hardly knew which way was up."
"Thank you for saying so. In any case — congratulations on passing."
Her congratulations didn't sound laced with mockery, and she offered her hand with a faint, almost shy smile.
"Thank you. It's not every day I get to shake the hand of someone so distinguished."
The earlier conversation had left the air a little frosty, so I threw out a light joke as I took her hand. It wasn't even really a joke. She was the daughter of one of the Arcadia Empire's most prestigious houses. A country bumpkin like me would normally have struggled just to look up at someone so exalted, let alone shake her hand.
But my words didn't seem to land the way I'd hoped. A shadow passed over Elisha's face, and a smile tinged with something like self-deprecation settled on her lips.
"We're fellow Academy students now, so 'distinguished' is a bit much. But thank you for the thought."
Still, she made a point of not letting it show, shaking my hand cheerfully. Watching her, I winced inwardly.
Come to think of it, Elisha had been like this in the original story too. She could accept compliments about herself well enough, but the moment her family entered the picture, the smile came hard.
It had to be the inferiority complex her older sister had planted in her, along with the constant criticism of her house.
Part of me wanted to offer her a word of advice. But for me — a total stranger — to start spouting things I had no business knowing would be strange at best. Today, I'd just have to be content with having spoken to her at all, and let it go.
With that thought, I was just beginning to ease my hand away when—
I suddenly sensed a presence sidling up close behind me, and my head turned of its own accord.
And standing there was none other than—
"Rone?"
My childhood friend, regarding the two of us with an ice-cold expression. The marshmallow-soft, docile face she usually wore was nowhere to be found — and there was something in her eyes that felt almost like murder.
"...Bell. I was wondering where you'd wandered off to, and here you are."
As Rone advanced toward us, slow and deliberate, a single bead of cold sweat trickled down my back. The enormous mana she usually kept on a tight leash was seeping out around her, making the grove of trees sway.
What's gotten into her?