Chapter 91
Chapter 91
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: Entry into Prynar Academy
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Strong>Instructor Qualification Exam.
The official name: Prynar Academy Instructor Competency Evaluation.
At Prynar Academy, the title of "instructor" carried a special significance.
Unlike ordinary professors who taught general knowledge, instructors delivered their own unique curricula, ones recognized by the world at large, to their disciples.
Their knowledge was renowned for being vast and eminently practical.
Not only geniuses specialized in particular fields, but even average talents invariably saw their abilities improve after attending their classes—a result backed by overwhelming evidence.
Thanks to this, it was a place where success was virtually guaranteed.
The public called it the forge where stars were tempered, a mandatory stop for any genius hoping to truly shine. Prynar Academy boasted an unmatched reputation.
Every instructor possessed at least one specialized skill, and before joining the academy, they had all proven themselves through feats and tales that earned the world's recognition or awe.
After taking up their posts, they contributed immensely to elevating the school's prestige through groundbreaking research or innovative lesson plans.
Given their pivotal role in shaping the academy's standing, the qualifications for becoming an instructor demanded rigorous scrutiny of one's abilities.
No matter how legendary their past exploits, it was the present that mattered.
If deemed unfit to teach the academy's geniuses, instructor status was revoked without mercy.
A sweet throne, but one that allowed no complacency—that was the instructor's seat.
Of course, a single exam didn't determine dismissal.
But its influence on whether qualifications were stripped or retained was undeniable.
The exam contents varied every time.
The rationale was that only those who could handle any challenge at any moment deserved the title of Prynar Academy instructor. And the trials from years past were infamous for their sheer absurdity.
"Wasn't there one where they had to retrieve an artifact from the depths of a dungeon?"
"Yeah, and hunting over a thousand monsters too."
"Surviving in volcanic zones, storm-swept areas, deserts, tidal waves, glacial regions... I dug up some old records, and yeah, those were real."
Trials utterly impossible for any human.
This year's seemed tame by comparison—at least it didn't threaten their lives.
Yet it drew far more attention from students and heightened wariness among the instructors.
A dragon's corpse.
The supreme treasure that Professor Blurt, the academy's chief overseer, had obtained through a miraculous string of coincidences.
What manner of being was a dragon?
Born as gods of magic and sovereigns of the skies.
Their skin didn't degrade with age; it grew smoother, tougher, and resistant to all manner of attacks, scattering most skills and spells with ease.
Even poisons, curses, or status ailments were swiftly repaired by their innate physiology.
Dragons were higher lifeforms no one dared call mere monsters.
Especially the one Blurt had acquired—not a wyrmling, but a full-grown adult dragon.
Even a wyrmling corpse commanded astronomical prices that could bankrupt noble houses or conglomerates. For an individual to possess an adult dragon's remains was nothing short of miraculous.
As such, Blurt had kept his prized possession under wraps, revealing it only on rare, special occasions.
To use it in an exam? That alone sparked endless curiosity.
Students buzzed excitedly about the dragons and instructors.
The instructor qualification exams were traditionally open to students as spectators.
Originally meant to let them witness their mentors' prowess firsthand and instill awe, it had devolved into prime entertainment fodder.
"Let's see if Instructor Alfred's skills match that prickly personality of his."
"Instructor Yapelno was whining about it, though."
Students rooting for the downfall of their usual tormentors or cheering on favorites were hyped for this unusual event.
Even without personal stakes, the explosions of advanced spells, martial arts, and swordsmanship made mere observation worth a fortune.
Outsiders had begged to buy viewing tickets at exorbitant prices.
Despite the steep cost, seats always sold out—the exam's buzz was self-evident.
And among them, first place held the utmost glory.
It was a qualification exam, but pure crisis wouldn't stoke excitement, so rankings came with prizes.
Second and third existed, but as with everything, no one remembered runners-up. First was always special.
Even among the academy's elite instructors, it marked one as exceptionally outstanding—a tremendous honor. But the tangible perks were staggering.
Substantial funding from the academy's vast coffers was just the baseline.
Yet for most instructors, money was secondary.
What they craved was always truth.
But what that truth entailed? The instructors never explained.
It remained a secret among them.
Students, meanwhile, were curious about the exam format and techniques, not some vague "truth" they couldn't even grasp.
"Who do you think'll take first this year?"
"Everyone's just betting on Alfred or Emily—what's the point?"
"What about Chief Instructor Glkuong?"
"That guy's a no-show anyway. Probably won't appear until his qualification's on the line next year."
"What about Instructor Blurt? His combat might lag behind those two, but he's tops in research. And it's his dragon corpse."
With the world's top authorities gathered, sizing each other up was human nature.
Bets flew on who would score highest or who might fail.
Half-sanctioned affairs, they even set up brazen counters right outside the venue, openly taking wagers.
The bets varied wildly.
From predicting the winner to how quickly someone might slice or melt the dragon corpse.
Among them:
[How pathetic will rookie instructor Yedre look?]
[Will Yedre declare he's forfeiting this year's exam?]
[Will the parachute outsider faint during the test?]
A bespectacled girl in plain clothes, Asita, frowned as she walked past these disrespectful wagers.
The boards overflowed with negatives—swords snapping on the dragon corpse, forfeits, fainting—making bets impossible to settle.
Asita quietly turned away.
She had no money for such nonsense anyway, nor any desire to join.
'Dre's an amazing guy, though...'
She'd heard rumors of his dragon-slaying hadn't spread properly, but this was excessive.
If even Prynar Academy's rational students were like this, what about elsewhere?
Did Dre even know?
'...Should I vote in a positive direction myself?'
She could aim for a big payout.
But recalling her heavy spending this month, Asita groaned, clutching her head.
Someone tapped her shoulder then—her best friend, Mayal.
"Hey, Asita!"
"Mayal! It's been a whole month!!"
The two beauties squealed, clasping hands in delight at their reunion.
Male students stared, but they ignored them, chatting away.
"Oh yeah! I met Dret!"
"Huh? Dre... no, Dret?"
"Yup! Just like you said, super nice guy! Ehehe. We're friends now."
"Aha... But what's a Dret?"
Asita's voice turned subtly icy without her realizing.
Mayal, oblivious, chattered on about that day's events.
Hearing the full story, Asita gave a wry smile despite herself.
'Always making enemies wherever he goes.'
She didn't know how Flaen would treat him, but his carefree wandering hadn't changed.
Asita suddenly felt annoyed.
They'd talked about sticking together at the academy constantly, yet over two weeks had passed since they met.
Was "meet often" just empty words? Or did he mean after the opening ceremony?
She'd ask when they met soon enough.
"You two. Sit down quick, or all the seats'll be gone."
"Clarit!"
Mayal dashed over to hug Clarit, who deftly sidestepped with an exasperated smile.
"Still the same, Mayal."
"Aww, you've been so cold since we split class schedules, Clarit."
"Talk later—move, or the good seats vanish."
"Oh? Guiding us lost lambs?"
"No. Even I don't handle student council stuff during this awkward non-semester limbo. But seriously, seats are filling fast. You okay with whatever's left?"
No way—they hurried toward the exam hall.
Before that, Asita hesitated and spoke up.
"...Clarit. Lend me some money? I'll pay back next month."
"You, asking for a loan?"
Clarit believed in neither lending nor borrowing, but she happily handed over cash for her dear friend.
Yes, handed it over.
A full year's allowance for Asita, no repayment needed.
Asita truly felt the depth of Clarit's—Blija's—wealth.
Clarit insisted it was unnecessary, but Asita vowed to repay, then joined the betting.
Bets weren't just picking from presets; you created your own, scoring higher the more accurately it matched exam events.
Higher scores meant better odds, naturally.
[Rookie instructor Yedre displays astonishing skill.]
The male student eyed her oddly but accepted it amid the lack of positives.
He leered with ulterior motives, trying to stop her, but she ignored him and ran to her friends.
'Good thing I wore glasses—he didn't recognize me.'
Without them, he'd have hit on her from the start.
Should've stuck with her usual spinning glasses look, Asita thought.
The three girls headed to the venue.
Prynar Academy's exam hall was a colossal arena, like stacking several gymnasiums, designed with safety and durability to withstand any chaos while protecting spectators.
Seating was modest relative to its size, optimized for clear sightlines—a boon for VIPs and influencers who demanded premium views.
Nearly two thousand seats brimmed with students and outsiders alike.
"Whoa..."
"Even more crowded than last exam. This year's packed."
"Can't blame 'em. Adult dragon corpses aren't everyday sights. Though that's not the only reason."
Clarit's eyes sparkled.
In her view, this year's instructors were top-tier.
Veterans culled, elites recruited—current staff ranked among the academy's all-time best.
"Who do you think wins first?"
"Instructor Yapelno for me!"
"Emily for meee."
"Don't pick our own teachers..."
"Hmm. Then Instructor Alfred?"
"Still Emily for meee."
Mayal casually switched, signaling zero loyalty to Yapelno.
His laziness and sleaziness tanked his popularity with girls.
Asita stuck with Emily, whose appeal to female students was the opposite—sky-high.
Males adored her too, for different reasons.
Clarit figured her mature allure made it inevitable.
But the witch Emily was the real deal in talent and character.
Her restoration specialty shook magical societies; her applied spells were potent and versatile.
A top contender this exam, she favored Asita as her sole disciple, who followed her devotedly.
"Lately, Master's been spacing out a lot, though. Worried she'll lose focus in the exam."
"Spacing out?"
"Yeah. Started about a week ago..."
"Any guesses?"
"Not sureee... But she doesn't seem hungry for first this time."
"Hmm."
A week ago? Clarit suddenly thought of Dre.
"Who're you betting on, Clarit?"
"Clarit's gotta be Instructor Melind, right?"
Flustered despite their ignorance, Clarit cleared her throat and spoke gravely.
"No. She's strong and smart, but bad matchup this time. Dragon corpse..."
That instant.
The vast hall dimmed abruptly.
Murmurs rippled, but as a single spotlight pierced the center, silence fell.
The noisy crowd hushed.
Beneath the lone beam, it appeared.
A body easily exceeding ten meters.
Even in death, mana overflowed—an incomprehensible phenomenon.
A lizard-like torso, but scales like armor plating.
Wings, horns, fangs glinting from obsidian reptilian hide.
Yet no mere reptile; a sacred aura lingered in the corpse.
Black Dragon.
Professor Blurt's long-hidden treasure finally revealed itself.
"Ooh..."
"That's the plague wyrm Malakia, who nearly annihilated the Magic Bullet Kingdom...!"
Outsiders buzzed; students gazed with keen interest.
The true prodigies analyzed from unique angles.
But all shared one thought:
Impenetrable!
No ordinary method would even scratch it.
For student-level challengers? Near impossible.
Then.
Figures materialized one by one around the corpse.
Each arrival churned the room's mana flows—proof of their might.
The academy's instructors.
Roooar!
The quiet hall erupted in cheers.
Students waved at their mentors; outsiders eyed potential contacts or partners.
As lights brightened, twenty instructors stood onstage, fireworks blooming across the ceiling.
Waving to the roaring crowd, they resembled stars more than exam-takers.
"Wow, that's a dragon corpse. Incredible, right?"
Mayal sought agreement, but Clarit and Asita's reactions were lukewarm.
No, they knew.
How extraordinary it was.
But they remembered.
That day.
A calamity wearing the husk of such a "mere" adult beast—one that could end the world in hours.
A living ancient dragon, vividly etched in memory.
"...I don't do bets. Vulgar."
Clarit's words drew looks.
It sounded like shade at bet-happy Asita, but experience taught they knew better—she always had more to say.
"But if I did... it'd be on him."
"Him...?"
Asita spoke; Clarit shrugged.
"This exam plays to his strengths. The difficulty's so high most instructors would balk—perfect chance for him. Hate to admit it, but his attack power's probably unmatched worldwide."
"Huh?"
Mayal, who'd been watching instructors without interrupting, tilted her head.
"Hey, where's Dre?"
"Huh?"
"What?"
Clarit and Asita rescanned the lineup.
Mayal too.
But nowhere: his figure.
What? Bathroom break?
Other students noticed too—the parachute rookie boasting queenly ties was absent.
The MC grabbed the mic.
"Uh, one instructor's... er... delayed due to personal reasons. Forfeit him?"
The man relaying to the MC: infamous oddball Professor Glus, face twisted in shock.
Speaking right beside, his voice boomed hall-wide.
"Yo, is this Dre guy auto-disqualified? What now?"
The three girls reacted differently: Mayal burst laughing, Asita deadpanned, Clarit fumed.
"What the hell's that guy doing?"