Announcement of the Final Results (2)
"N-No, that's not it~ I wasn't thinking that at all~..."
Sinia was clearly flustered. Herion's face was filled with horror.
"My goodness, Instructor Sinia. How could you have such a dangerous idea—"
"Ah, alright! Alright! I'll admit it! Sure, I did think that for a second."
Drip.
Sinia confessed with an uncharacteristically flustered face.
"I definitely had that thought when I looked at our Number 348!"
Sillon. A man born with the talent of an assassin that Harashin would absolutely drool over.
If she kept this man close, wouldn't Harashin approach?
Wouldn't she get a clue to track them down?
"But! It wasn't set in stone yet! Do I really look like someone who would impulsively do something so reckless, no matter how crazy I am!?"
Stare.
"Yes! Okay! Fine! Sometimes! I do impulsively do crazy things! But! I swear to heaven, not this time!"
Stare.
"Ah! Fine! I won't swear to heaven, I'll swear on my sword! Happy!? Anyway, I was just planning to hide Number 348 away for now and think things through slowly! I wanted to give it some buffer time! Just in case I actually did it, I needed to set up a system. So that our Number 348 wouldn't be put in danger!"
But!
She pointed at Sillon on the screen with an aggrieved face. His grinning face on the screen somehow looked like he was mocking the flustered Sinia.
"But then our Number 348 suddenly declared he was running away from home and left my embrace like that!? I was super flustered too, you know!?"
"Then can't we just cover up the third exam like we did with the second exam? Fortunately, we are the only two proctors who have seen this so far."
"He already had his first place taken away once and staged a protest like that, and you want me to take away his first place again? I could do it if I had to, but do you think our Number 348—who is surprisingly hot-blooded despite how he looks—will just sit back and take it? What if he suddenly opens those squinty eyes, turns into a super scary person, and flips the whole table!?"
Ha.
Herion let out a dry laugh.
How much could that frivolous, silly guy's image change just by opening his eyes?
Hmm? But then, his eyes suddenly drifted to the top right of the screen. There was something he couldn't just brush off.
"Take away his first place again?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you speaking as if Sillon's first place is already decided?"
"Oh? Do you have an objection?"
Herion was about to pull out his grading sheet for Agion Morci, but then—he turned his head to look at Sillon on the screen.
His teammates: Aidrin Telne and Miz Bowler.
They were certainly promising talents with bright futures. But compared to Adela Aspien and Melchen at this stage, their capabilities fell far behind.
Yet, Agion Morci, who was in the same group as Adela and Melchen, had been eliminated after struggling in the ninth gate.
Sillon, who was in the same group as Aidrin and Miz, was putting up a good fight in the tenth gate.
Looking at Agion, Herion had thought that he might actually surpass the stronghold of Drin Libringer and Kasha Hanahan.
Then what about now, looking at Sillon?
"..."
Clench.
He unconsciously balled his fists.
Soon, Herion put Agion's grading sheet back inside. He steeled his resolve and spoke.
"At least—"
"Hmm?"
"For now!"
Herion strongly emphasized the word.
"For now, we must hide the fact that he has the talent for assassination arts. If it gets out that the top scorer of the Academy entrance exam succeeded because of an assassin's talent, it will cause an absolute uproar."
"I agree with that. The moment that's revealed, it'll be a complete shitshow."
"For now! Participant Sillon has the talent of an assassin but is unaware of it himself. Later on, you or I will 'discover' that talent."
"Oh, that's good. Wow, Instructor Herion. We're finally speaking the same language."
"Is that something you should say after shaking me by the collar this whole time? Anyway—if we do that, another problem arises."
Herion manipulated the screen.
It showed Sillon active in the tenth gate, a place even those brilliant rookies like Drin, Kasha, and Agion had failed to reach.
"How on earth do we explain Participant Sillon's incredible performance to others? Without using the words 'assassination talent'?"
"Ah, you don't have to worry about that. Our Number 348 has already found the excuse for us."
"Pardon?"
Sinia pointed at Sillon on the screen.
On the screen, Sillon was displaying his assassin's talent.
Specifically, through Baurer's Sword.
"That's it. We're just too focused on the assassin aspect, but our Number 348 is clearly using Baurer's Sword right now."
"...Won't someone recognize it?"
Baurer's Sword and the talent of an assassin seemed to blend together, yet they didn't.
To Herion's eyes, the disharmony was as obvious as lint on a coat.
"At most, a few instructors might think, 'Huh? Something's off there,' and barely notice, right?"
But that disharmony was only visible to Sinia and Herion, who possessed some of the sharpest eyes in the Academy.
"The vast majority of the Academy will just think, 'Ah, Baurer's Sword really is as rootless as they say.' Oh, Miss Miz Bowler! You were there, right! Sorry. I didn't mean it in a bad way~"
She bowed her head slightly to Miz Bowler on the screen.
Seeing her drag him into this massive mess and act completely normal, Herion felt his head heating up.
Whew.
Deep breath. Deep breath. Calm down.
Getting worked up against this woman would only be his loss.
He barely managed to calm himself down and continued.
"Then, are you saying we should coordinate our stories with the few instructors who might recognize Sillon's assassination talent?"
"Exactly—!"
"How?"
Herion cut her off before she could finish.
"How on earth do you plan to persuade them?"
The instructors whose eyes Sinia acknowledged.
Every single one of them was as skilled as, or even more skilled than, Herion himself.
Consequently, they had strong egos, firm convictions, and above all—were stubborn as hell.
Just like the Sinia in front of him.
And most of all—they loathed assassins.
To ask them to cooperate in a matter regarding Sillon, who possessed the 'talent of assassination arts'?
Impossible. The word naturally came to mind.
He would rather join a dragon subjugation force than take responsibility for such a task.
So. She must have had a plan to assign such an absurd mission.
Herion spoke, not even entertaining the possibility that Sinia had no plan!
"Do you have some brilliant idea to persuade them?"
Hand it over. The plan.
"Well, that's for you to figure out from now on, Instructor Herion."
No plan?
That was Sinia's answer.
"What?"
Herion's thoughts ground to a halt at the unimaginable response.
"As of right now, you are Number 348's guardian, Instructor Herion."
"Pardon?"
"So, Instructor Herion, I'm counting on you~"
"Pardon?"
"Give our Number 348 a reasonably satisfactory grade, and make sure there are no issues with him taking that rank, okay?"
"Pardon?"
"Then, I'll leave it all to you, Herion~ Good luck~ I have to go now. I have some business to attend to~"
"Pardon?"
With that, Sinia unilaterally dumped her words and hurriedly fled the room.
Left alone, Herion stared blankly at her receding back.
"Eh?"
Still unable to process the situation.
Leaving the proctors' waiting room, Sinia reached into her pocket and pulled something out.
It was a note.
Target located...
Clench.
Sinia smiled with delight.
The hunting dogs she had unleashed had caught the scent of the target's blood.
An assassin active in the underworld of Arien. A lackey of Harashin.
The tracking that had spanned years had finally borne fruit; she had succeeded in locating the target.
According to the information she gathered, he wasn't some random nobody who had luckily stumbled upon Harashin and learned basic assassination arts.
He was a direct successor who had been properly trained by a direct Harashin master, a highly skilled assassin.
Harashin...
If she captured him alive and interrogated him, there was a high probability she would obtain a clue to reach them.
It was a happy day. And an important day.
Sinia steeled her resolve.
As far as she knew, the target was not someone to be taken lightly.
Could she capture him alive?
I have to.
There was no other choice.
Sinia steeled her resolve.
She made sure her preparations were flawless.
The target, Rendal of Seson.
Completely unaware of the fact that he had recently suffered a certain 'mishap' and his whereabouts were currently unknown.
Buzz, buzz.
Currently, the 3rd Exam Waiting Room was heated and extremely noisy.
At first, it was because the participants had just finished their exams and returned to the waiting room from the barrier.
However, as time passed, the cause of the heated atmosphere shifted elsewhere.
"Did you hear that?"
"Ah, yes, I did. That Lady Kasha reached the 7th gate, just like Lady Drin—"
Kasha Hanahan, who had surpassed Drin Libringer in the 2nd exam.
She had succeeded in catching up to Drin Libringer even in the 3rd exam.
That shocking news spread through the waiting room in an instant, and all the participants were heatedly discussing it.
Meanwhile.
An even more shocking rumor was layered on top of it.
"No, not that."
"Eh? What else is there besides that?"
"Word is that the final score of Group 13, consisting of Agion, Adela, and Melchen—"
Adela.
The very person who had spread that shocking rumor was currently strutting around the waiting room with her chest puffed out as far as it would go.
"I, Lady Adela, actually managed to—in the 3rd exam—"
"Along with Agion Morci, reached the 9th gate—"
Savoring the whispers, gazes, and attention that followed her every step, she searched for someone.
"By any chance, have you seen Lady Aidrin?"
"Ah, Lady Aidrin is over there—"
Soon, Adela spotted Aidrin with her teammates and approached her.
Adela remembered. The very first moment she met Aidrin long ago.
It was a social gathering held for the successors of various swordsmanship families to socialize.
The host of the gathering was the Aspien family. In other words, Adela's family.
As the lady of the hosting family, Adela had led the gathering.
She was rightfully the protagonist, and rightfully the brightest star of the social.
And it was the moment she should have shone the brightest.
A friendly duel. As a gathering of swordsmanship families, it was an unavoidable event.
Adela chose an opponent who would make her look good.
Not too weak, not too strong.
Not too insignificant, not too grand.
A family of similar standing to Aspien.
And a swordsman of similar skill to herself.
It was Aidrin.
Adela chose Aidrin as her opponent for the friendly duel.
And she lost—by a massive margin.
—Gasp, oh no...! Are you okay...?!
Contrary to her somewhat clumsy appearance, Aidrin possessed incredible skill.
Adela, who had fallen unsightly to the ground.
In her eyes, she saw Aidrin reaching out a hand with genuine concern.
And behind her, she saw the cold, mocking gazes of the other nobles looking down at her.
Adela could never forget that moment.
Since then, that moment became the worst memory of her life.
The ultimate humiliation.
Like an unquenchable ember, it flared up again and again to torment her.
But that was over now.
At this very moment, she was going to thoroughly stomp out that ember so it could never flare up again.
Aidrin, that girl, was no longer above her.
"Lady Aidrin?"
Adela spoke her name, dripping with a sense of superiority.
You must have heard the news, right?
Adela anticipated.
How would Aidrin react upon hearing that Adela's group had surpassed Drin Libringer and Kasha Hanahan's group, practically securing 1st place in the 3rd exam?
Would she tremble with jealousy and humiliation?
Or would she try to act fine while secretly burning with envy?
"Ah, Lady Adela. You're here?"
Aidrin turned her head to look at Adela.
"...?"
But the expression on her face was dripping with leisure, confidence, and superiority.
Clack.
Just then, a sharp sound echoed throughout the waiting room, drawing everyone's attention.
Someone was standing on the podium located in the corner of the waiting room.
"Oh, that's—!?"
"Lord Herion! It's Lord Herion Dedler!"
The direct heir of the Dedler family, one of the 8 Great Families.
A genius whose name was etched in the history of the Academy's swordsmanship department.
Above all, one of the finest instructors the Academy's swordsmanship department boasted.
He was Herion Dedler, the very person whose teachings every participant in this room desperately craved.
"I will now announce the final results of the 3rd exam."
Amidst the intense focus of the participants.
Just what on earth had happened?
Herion spoke with a face deeply worn by extreme fatigue.
"First, I will announce the group that reached the highest gate and achieved the highest record."
At those words, the gazes that had been focused on Herion shifted to Adela.
"Group 17, consisting of the three participants: Aidrin Telne, Miz Bowler, and Sillon. Congratulations."
And then, they immediately shifted to Aidrin, who was standing right next to her.
"...?"
Adela stared blankly at Aidrin, completely dazed.
"My, it seems I luckily won the 3rd exam, didn't I?"
The exact expression Adela had worn in the 2nd exam—
and the exact expression Adela should have worn in the 3rd exam, now worn by Aidrin instead.
"Next, I will announce the participant who received the highest bonus points in the individual evaluation and recorded the 1st place score."
The hall fell into a frenzy.