Class Placement Exam (1)
Combat Magic Professor Leffen Chaser stood with the vast grassland at his back and began his address.
“Was the past month a pleasant one for you, or an unhappy one? Either way, you spent that month preparing for today. And how you used this fair and equal time will determine how you fare in this exam.”
Emperor Persotian, the founding sovereign of the empire, had wished for class distinctions to vanish—at least within the walls of this educational institution called the Academy. That was precisely why the placement exam was held after a full month's grace period. It was a consideration for the children who had never been given a chance to learn.
While Persotian lived, the system had worked reasonably well. In those days, magic had not yet been systematized—there was no such thing as 'early education'—and because magic depended so absolutely on innate talent, even a single month was enough to close the gap to some degree.
“Now then, before we begin the class placement exam that will decide your entire year, I have one assignment for you.”
But times change.
Magic had become highly systematized, advancing without end through formulas and arcane reagents. The gulf between nobles and commoners widened by the day, and that one month had turned less into a season of study than a social arena for cozying up to anyone with a famous name.
Why?
“Party members—any target, any number. Form a party and report to me. You have thirty minutes.”
Because the exam's own rules were, quite blatantly, an instruction to spend that month building connections.
The moment Leffen finished speaking, some students went off to gather the allies they'd arranged in advance, while others began watching the crowd warily.
How tedious.
Hershey observed it all with her arms crossed. Either way, it struck her as pathetic.
Was groveling before the powerful for a month straight 'skill'? It was a cheap trick. Building rapport with people had nothing to do with magical ability.
Hershey took pride in the Imperial Academy, but this placement exam alone she could not understand.
“Lady Minerva!”
A girl approached her then. It was Sophia, someone she had known since childhood.
“Would you care to join our party? Oh—”
Sophia covered her mouth with a light laugh.
“My mistake. I mean—would you accept us, Hershey?”
Sophia extended her hand. It was flawless etiquette, without a single flaw to criticize.
Only, Hershey was in an awkward position.
There's no limit on party size, but…
Most people formed parties of four or five. Anything more invited problems—food supplies, factional infighting, and worse.
But she doubted Luid would be pleased about it.
He said he hates crowds.
Luid had offered to help her with the exam. That meant forming a party together.
From everything Hershey had learned over the past week, the Lazy Young Master Luid avoided contact with people to an extreme degree.
Best to decline until Luid arrives, then. Although—
Hershey was honestly starting to grow anxious.
Why isn't he here yet?
Class had already begun, and there wasn't so much as a hint of Luid.
Still, they had a prior promise. A noble of the Young Master's standing would hardly treat an appointment so carelessly.
Hershey decided to refuse Sophia's offer.
“I'm sorry, Sophia.”
“Yes?”
“I… have a prior engagement.”
Sophia's eyes went round.
“A prior engagement?”
“Yes.”
“With whom?”
Under normal circumstances it would have been an unpleasant exchange, but the two were close enough that neither took offense. Sophia was simply curious. The proud Hershey, agreeing to form a party with someone else?
“…With the Young Master of House Windsor. Um, Luid Christopher.”
Hershey wound a lock of hair around her finger, a touch embarrassed.
“What—Luid? The Lazy Young Master?”
“Yes.”
Sophia looked startled. She glanced quickly around them, then leaned in to whisper.
“This is huge, Hershey. You kept saying you had zero interest in the first-years, and now you're slyly making the first move?”
Hershey lowered her voice to match.
“S-slyly? It's nothing like that!”
“Good luck either way, Hershey! I'll step aside for now.”
Hershey had been about to fire back a rebuttal, but stopped when Sophia straightened up and flashed her polished, merchant-ready smile.
“A shame, but we'll team up next time. Then, excuse me.”
Hershey's lips trembled as she stretched a hand out after her—but Sophia was already gone.
She let out a sigh and scanned her surroundings.
Come on, hurry up. Hurry.
Now that she'd told Sophia, there was no taking it back. She had to form a party with Luid. To secure his agreement and recruit other members, he needed to arrive at least ten minutes before the exam began.
But Luid was nowhere to be seen.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Three minutes left.”
Hershey was staring at the ground, her face a portrait of despair.
Nothing came to mind.
Luid still hadn't come.
And the fact that he hadn't come by now meant he had no intention of coming at all.
Fool. How could you believe something so naive? As if Luid Christopher would ever form a party with someone like me.
The only person left without a party was her.
Even now, if she went to Sophia and begged her way in, she could still join a party.
…But her pride would never allow it.
Naturally. Hadn't she already announced it to everyone?
That she would be forming a party with that 'Lazy Luid.'
Reckless. You were reckless, Hershey.
Self-recrimination changed nothing. It was too late.
The exam was one thing—but more than that, Hershey…
“Hershey Minerva.”
“…!”
“You have not yet formed a party.”
Everyone's stares burned. It was mortifying.
—Look at Lady Minerva. Still all alone.
—I heard she's been standing there this whole time because she promised a party with Young Master Luid.
—Seriously? No way. That 'Lazy Luid' doesn't even attend class.
It felt as though they were whispering exactly that, right in front of her.
“Hershey.”
“…Yes.”
“Time is up. We have no choice but to proceed as planned. Even so, I will ask once more. Do you intend to take this exam alone?”
At this point, all she could do was act as though she'd meant to go solo from the very beginning.
Hershey, eyes half-dead, was about to nod—
“Huh?”
“Look up there.”
“A person?”
At the ripple of murmurs, she looked toward the sky.
It was Luid.
Drifting down through the empty air, he touched down lightly on the grassland and walked toward her.
Whether he knew he was late or not, every step was supremely confident.
Hershey's face brightened—then she leveled a fierce glare at him.
“Hershey.”
“You're la—! …late.”
She had been about to snap at him, but noticing how many eyes were on them, she dropped her voice.
Thank goodness! Thank goodness! Thank goodness!
Her head was filled with nothing else.
“Did you register my name?”
“You were supposed to come and do it…!”
“You should have the sense to handle that sort of thing in advance.”
It was absurd, but at that point she didn't care.
…Thank goodness. Really.
So great was her relief that her knees nearly gave out. Hershey walked proudly up to Professor Leffen.
“Hershey Minerva and Luid Christopher Windsor. That's our party.”
Leffen nodded and wrote down the two names with a magic pen, then returned to the platform.
The students watched him with stiff faces.
“Before the exam proper, let me outline the rules. From this moment, you must survive for seven days here in the Haemuk Highlands.”
The students of the Academy gulped down dry spit, nerves plain on their faces.
“A survival where you kill and are killed by one another—surely none of you idiots think that, right?”
At Leffen's joke, laughter rippled through the crowd. The tension eased a little. Leffen smirked faintly and raised something in his hand.
“Simply put on one of the armbands laid out on the tables. Anyone whose armband is taken is eliminated. Naturally, those eliminated earliest will be assigned to Low Class.”
Leffen issued a stern warning.
“I doubt students of the Imperial Academy, blessed with such fine minds, would ever dream of it, but bloodshed is strictly prohibited. Those with questions, raise your hands. I will take them for the next ten minutes.”
Someone raised a hand. Leffen nodded.
A freckled boy spoke up.
“What counts as bloodshed? If violence is banned, how are we supposed to take someone's armband?”
“Good question.”
It was common knowledge to every noble present, but Leffen hid his reaction and explained patiently.
“It depends on what both parties agree to. You may play chess, or hold a footrace. Though I doubt any such fools exist. Most settle it through a magical duel. There are no restrictions, however. If you're confident you can do it without injury, you may take the armband by force. Even, say, while its owner sleeps.”
The boy nodded as though he understood.
When no further questions came, Leffen raised his staff.
“Since there appear to be no more questions—”
Blue light burst from the tip of his staff.
“The exam begins.”
A colossal magic circle swallowed the students whole.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Luid stared blankly at his surroundings. The swarm of students had vanished, and dense forest closed in on every side.
“Care to explain yourself, Young Master Luid?”
A frosty voice came from beside him. Hershey—pouting, arms crossed.
“Don't you think you were a little too late?”
Frankly, even Luid felt a twinge of guilt.
If Amelia hadn't come to wake me, I really would have been late.
But shamelessness was the virtue of the idle.
“I'm not late. I showed up exactly on time.”
“Haa. True, but…”
Hershey let out a long sigh.
“Fine. You're here, that's what matters. But if something like this happens again, come early. Do you have any idea how worried sick I was?”
“That part I'm sorry for.”
Soothed by the genuine apology, Hershey cleared her throat and planted her hands on her hips.
“If there's anything you don't know, just ask. After all, you probably didn't even read up on any of this, did you?”
She said it as if she could see right through him, but in truth Luid knew the details perfectly—down to events of the future that Hershey could never know. Having decided to stick to his character, however, Luid chose to play dumb.
“You need to know something exists before you can ask about it.”
“Hm. Hearing you say it, that's fair. We have plenty of time, so I'll explain everything slowly. First, let's decide on our shelter.”
To describe the class placement exam briefly: it was an all-ages battle royale. Survive in this forest for seven days. There were occasional events, but at its heart you had two choices—drive out the other groups, or dig in and turtle up.
If I'm doing this anyway, I might as well take first place. And ideally, I never cross paths with the protagonist's group.
Luid's strategy was simple. Rank first, and avoid entanglement with the protagonist.
The moment they met, a fight was inevitable. His irritation gauge was already building from oversleeping; if he ran into the protagonist on top of that, things could go far worse than the original story.
Taking first place would be easy as eating cold porridge. Avoiding the protagonist was simple too.
Because Luid knew exactly where in this vast forest the protagonist had been dropped.
“First, we should set up a base camp by the river. Water is an essential resource, after all.”
The protagonist's location was a spot with two enormous boulders in front of a waterfall.
“Oh, we're lucky! I can already hear water. Let's head that way!”
And it was rich with food—fruit trees, mushrooms…
Shhhh—
“Goodness, fruit! And a waterfall right there.”
“?”
“What luck! With this, the difficulty will be trivial.”
…It was precisely the place before his eyes right now.
The protagonist's base camp, as Luid remembered it.
“No.”
“Yes?”
“The waterfall's too loud. I won't be able to sleep. Let's set up somewhere farther off.”
Luid began making excuses.
I need to get away from this cursed spot, fast.
That had been a close call. Lucky he'd found it so early—if he hadn't, he'd have run straight into the protagonist.
“What kind of excuse is that! I guarantee you, there is no better campsite in all the Haemuk Highlands than this one.”
He knew that. The whole reason the protagonist got eliminated so quickly in the early game was that their starting position was almost too good.
“Well, save your breath and—”
Getting away from here was the priority, so he was about to drag her off by force when—
Rustle.
“…”
He sensed movement nearby.
Luid's eyebrows twitched. Hershey swiftly drew her staff.
“Get ready, Luid.”
No way. No, no way—it can't be the protagonist, right?
But a bad premonition is always proven right.
“Huh? Sophia?”
“Hershey?”
He didn't even need to hear the main heroine's name—one look at that clueless male face at the very back of the group was enough.
It was the protagonist's party, all right.
Luid smacked his forehead.
We're screwed.