Fake Flags

In the end, Vanilla failed to purchase a single flag.

"I'm so sorry, Hero."

"Don't be. It was my request in the first place."

"I'll return the retainer points you gave me."

"Those ten points were an upfront retainer fee. Regardless of whether you succeeded or not, they're yours to keep. Treat yourself to a nice dinner tonight."

"Thank you so much!"

Ishtar could not entirely mask her disappointment.

Fearing she would put the girl on guard if she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠approached directly, Ishtar had enlisted a proxy to buy the flags, yet the razor-sharp Orknodi had seen through the intermediary in an instant.

Even so, the blow was softened considerably by the vital intelligence she had gained in return.

"To think she already knew every single lecture Vanilla was enrolled in... Orknodi's intelligence network is truly formidable."

"I was terrified out of my wits! Please, Hero, won't you pat poor frightened Vanilla's shoulders?"

"I'd rather not."

Ishtar caught Vanilla's shoulders with both hands as the girl tried to throw herself into her arms, firmly pushing her away.

She maintained an impassive, stoic expression until Vanilla left, but the moment the sullen girl vanished down the hall, the corners of Ishtar's mouth curved upward into a subtle smirk.

"Ishtar. What could possibly make you look so pleased?"

"Did you hear that, Yupi? I think Orknodi is interested in me."

"...She's an assassin, remember?"

"She's also my prime candidate for our party's water-attribute recruit."

"When an assassin gathers preliminary intelligence on someone, it usually means only one thing!"

While the Hero practically beamed at the thought that Orknodi—despite claiming to have no interest in joining her party to her face—had secretly investigated her schedule and classmates behind her back, the Saintess was on high alert.

"If you ask me... Miss Orknodi is undoubtedly an assassin dispatched by an underworld organization. Specifically, an operative tasked with eliminating the current generation's Hero."

"Yupi, aren't you being far too paranoid? Orknodi is barely a ten-year-old child."

"Do not underestimate the Group A top student just because of her age, Ishtar. She is an absolute powerhouse capable of rivaling even you, the Hero."

As the two exchanged arguments, Scholar, who had been assigned to the same group, chimed in to support Yupi's assessment.

"Her archery was extraordinary as well. In terms of marksmanship, I would say she easily ranks second among the nine hundred and eighty-first class. First place naturally belongs to me, the descendant of the Divine Archer."

"You see?" Yupi pressed. "If she possesses such mastery of the bow, she might even be capable of a sniper assassination. We cannot afford to drop our guard."

The Hero Ishtar's official party currently consisted of only one member: Saintess Yupi.

Scholar had offered his insight believing that as the number one archer in their cohort, he could easily secure a coveted spot at Ishtar's side. However...

Ishtar flinched slightly.

When she looked back at him, her attention seemed far more captivated by the runner-up than the reigning champion.

"Is that true? How was Orknodi's archery?"

Scholar cast his mind back to the practical exam.

"It was a test of mobile shooting on the run. First of all, her footwork was exceptionally nimble, and her frame was remarkably light. Her core muscles were so developed that she could deliver immense force into her arrows even from terribly unstable postures."

"Her raw physical power allowed her to unleash devastating power shots with ease... Hmm, another noteworthy trait was her astonishingly broad field of vision."

"Yet she also displayed a rather naive streak, even running backward along the track during the race just to accompany and assist a classmate who had fallen behind. In the end, she's still just an immature child, I suppose."

Worried that he had lavished too much praise upon her, Scholar casually slipped in a jab at her shortcomings. He had intended to highlight his own superiority as an archer, but contrary to his expectations, the Hero's expression turned frigid.

"I am deeply disappointed in you, Scholar."

"...Hero? You misunderstand! I didn't mean to disparage her—!"

"If that wasn't disparagement, then what was it? You're telling me that whenever you witness a righteous, compassionate heart, you consider it common sense to dismiss it as mere childishness. Tell me then: does that mean that in your eyes, I, a Hero who venerates justice, am nothing more than a child as well?"

"Not at all!"

"There is no need to make excuses. If that is how you choose to live your life, I won't deny your path. It simply means our values do not align."

Scholar's stomach twisted with bitter regret as he watched his chance of joining the Hero Party evaporate before his eyes.

A true comrade must have brute strength, after all, Ishtar mused, her spirits soaring once more.

Water-attribute slot, archer slot, physical strength bonus—the reasons to recruit Orknodi were piling up by the second. At this rate, she had surpassed priority rank one and become a priority rank zero recruit.

If Orknodi had gone out of her way to dig into Ishtar's social circle, it meant she harbored feelings as well.

Such a tsundere!

I thought that if I proved my competence as a Hero in this lecture, she wouldn't be able to keep up her stubborn act and would finally join me... What a shame.

Still, today was not the only opportunity.

The Hero resolved to wait for the next chance.

"I have arrived!"

In the end, Ishtar failed to turn the tables on the flag count before the Headmaster made his grand entrance.

"Deposit the flags collected by your five-man teams into your designated baskets. Rankings shall be determined by the total count."

The Dragon Principal had expected ten to twenty flags per team at most.

That was how it had gone last year, and the year before that.

He had certainly never anticipated baskets brimming to the point of overflowing, let alone colossal towers of flags stacked precariously toward the ceiling.

"Why are there so many flags?"

The students held their breath in anticipation.

If the Headmaster counted the counterfeit flags as genuine, their rankings would skyrocket through the roof!

"Someone has flooded the market with fakes."

"A staggering three hundred of them, no less."

"Insolent fools."

If a merchant's caliber were measured by the sheer volume of counterfeit goods pushed onto desperate buyers, Giselle was already a grand merchant without equal.

Counterfeit flags flooded the hall from every corner!

The only ones who had competed honestly were the bottom two teams who had balked at the point costs, Giselle's squad—who had sold off every spare fake they owned—and Orknodi's team, who had amassed an enormous stockpile from the very beginning.

Or so everyone assumed, but there was still one more team among them that had not touched a single counterfeit flag.

"Needless to say, all counterfeit flags are utterly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠invalid!"

"Confess now, and in light of your commendable industriousness, I shall overlook the penalty points."

The moment the Dragon Principal offered clemency, students frantically began plucking flags from their baskets and discarding them onto the floor.

"Wait! Hold on! Was this one the fake or the real one?"

"How am I supposed to know?! They all look identical!"

"H-Headmaster! What happens if we take a genuine flag out of the basket?"

"It shall not be tallied, naturally."

"And if a counterfeit remains inside when you inspect it?"

"You had best brace yourselves for penalty points, then."

Spiteful glares shot toward Giselle. They had dumped a fortune of points into a ruthless gacha with neither a pity system nor a guaranteed ten-pull, only to be rewarded with freezing-cold academic penalties!

"W-We have to find the pattern! What did the original flag look like? Is this one genuine? Or is that one real?!"

"Damn it all, we're completely finished! Fried, you moron! You bought so many damn fakes that you ruined our real flags, too!"

"You bastards cheered me on while I did it! I'm the one who paid the most points in the first place!"

"Who gives a damn?! You're the team leader, so take responsibility!"

"A refined and elegant noble like myself, branded an inferior student with penalty points in the very first week of the academy...?! This cannot be written in a letter to my distinguished family-desu!!"

Pandemonium erupted across the classroom. Students tore frantically through piles of fabric, shrieked in existential denial, or seized each other by the collars in fury.

Amidst the chaotic frenzy, Mesugaki slammed her palms down onto her desk.

Slam! Slam!

"Listen up!"

The Imperial faction students whipped their heads toward her. No matter how deep their despair, no cadet dared ignore an order from the Empire's Second Princess.

"Look at all of you, sitting there with faces like the world just ended. Isn't that utterly pathetic~? Weakling scrubs♥ Inferior students♥ There's still a chance for a last-minute comeback, you know♥"

Mesugaki ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠proposed an outrageous scheme.

"If we just dump our counterfeit flags into everyone else's baskets, every single team will get penalty points together~!"

"—!"

"What a brilliant idea!!"

"As expected of Her Imperial Highness!"

"The only teams clean of counterfeit flags are Orknodi's, Giselle's, Andersen's, and that group of five from Class C!"

Sensing the tide turning treacherous, Giselle immediately raised his hand and called out to the Dragon Principal.

"Has the submission period not already concluded?"

"I stated you must bring the flags by Thursday. I never once declared that the deadline fell at the start of the lecture, did I?"

If Giselle had overlooked one crucial detail, it was that the Headmaster's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠character was far more depraved than anyone could ever fathom!

"As you navigate this world, being blindsided by shifted deadlines is hardly an uncommon occurrence."

"A sudden schedule adjustment might push an academic conference's thesis submission deadline from one o'clock to two o'clock in the afternoon, only for an unidentified assailant to raid the hall and incinerate the manuscript during that very hour!"

"To defend your team's hard-won achievements amidst arbitrarily shifting deadlines..."

"That is an invaluable trial you must endure if you wish to survive not only this academy, but