Special Exam
"I'm a slave, after all."
"Hah, but you spoke casually to the princess too."
"That was inside the academy... though."
"You definitely did it outside the academy as well. Why the sudden change?!"
Isana's innocent words made me burst out laughing for a moment.
'We get along.'
I'd speak casually to anyone, even a princess or prince. Sure, Linea used to be a marquess's daughter, and I'm just a commoner.
"How dare a lowly commoner laugh...!"
The mood wasn't one for laughter. Despite Linea's attempts to stop her, Isana looked ready to give it a real try.
Linea's face paled at the sight. She'd witnessed my power firsthand, so she knew.
I could turn Isana into a slave right then and there if I was willing to spill blood. But I had no justification for it now.
The Sibtant ducal house had no openings to exploit at this point. Wiping them out without cause would drag Erde into the mess too.
"No! Isana, please stop."
Linea dropped even her forced formal speech, desperately trying to hold her back.
"...Linea. I'll definitely get you out of this."
Isana bit her lip hard and whispered in Linea's ear, clearly trying to keep it from me.
I heard every word. Not just faintly—it rang crystal clear.
My ears have always been sharp.
"Commoner. You're taking the special exam, right?"
"My name is Ethan."
"Shut up. I have no interest in a commoner's name."
Isana growled, furrowing her brow.
"Anyway, I'll pray fervently for you to pass the exam."
"Hearing such words from a renowned duke's daughter leaves me at a loss."
"Don't get snide. I'm serious."
Isana clicked her tongue and turned her head away.
"Had enough of the show?"
The crowd's murmurs died at her single remark. The masses parted like the sea around the boldly striding Isana.
A real-life parting of the Red Sea.
"M-Master. Not Isana, please..."
Linea clung to me pleadingly. She meant well, but I had no intention of listening.
Isana was an irredeemable villainess on par with Linea. The moment I had cause, I wouldn't hesitate.
"We'll see how the duke's daughter acts."
"But she just cheered for your exam."
"That's the problem—the cheering's laced with ulterior motives."
Would Isana really cheer out of goodwill? Not a chance.
Once I enrolled in the academy, she'd harass me to the max and free Linea when the time was right.
Far too predictable a plan.
"But it doesn't feel bad."
"Really?!"
Color bloomed on Linea's face. Was that relief?
Did villainesses share some kind of solidarity? I couldn't fathom why she'd light up like that over my words.
"...though."
"What was that all of a sudden?"
"You didn't use formal speech just now."
"When did I—"
I racked my brain, searching my memory.
'No way—is she reacting because I didn't add "though" to "Really?!"?'
If that was it, it was pretty cute.
"D-Don't laugh!"
"I'm laughing because it's adorable."
Even as I said it, I couldn't hold back the laughter bubbling up.
*****
It was huge. My first impression upon seeing the academy.
The size belonged in a movie.
"Ahem."
Linea coughed awkwardly. She was visibly trying to suppress a smile tugging at her lips.
Ever since I'd let slip a gasp of admiration at the sight of the academy, she'd been like this.
She couldn't even attend anymore—why the pride? I held my tongue on that one.
"As a senior alumna of Rozril Academy, allow me to guide you."
"Do you know where the special exam is?"
"No. But if you go to the dean's office and show the recommendation letter!"
Linea seemed genuinely excited for the first time since becoming my slave.
"No need for that."
A voice that even made me tense up rang out. I turned toward the source.
An elderly man with a monocle was approaching, leaning on his staff. But that staff was no ordinary one.
It could shift into whatever form he desired.
'He's strong.'
Could I win in a fight? Coldly assessing—no.
I might hold my own pouring out full power, but inflicting a fatal wound was impossible.
Even teaming up with Erde would barely make it a proper battle.
'Though that's to be expected.'
The old man's name was Jeron Berg.
Dean of Rozril Academy—and the man who held the title of the world's strongest in this world.
"You've changed a great deal. Linea Rosianne, was it?"
"Yes."
Linea replied with surprising politeness. Even that spoiled brat Linea stepped back before the dean.
In the original story, it took until the very late stages for them to be on eating terms.
"Such a waste of talent."
"Then may she attend classes?"
I cut into their conversation.
"That won't do. Rules are rules."
The dean turned to me.
"You're that sword ghost's disciple, aren't you."
"You knew?"
"Only the sword ghost would write a recommendation like that."
"I never showed you the letter. How did you know?"
"Some things don't require reading with the eyes."
What a monster. He hadn't had time to glance at it visually. At best, the time it took him to approach us and our brief chat with Linea.
Yet he'd managed it in that split second—while multitasking, no less.
'But what's this "sword ghost" business?'
The dean's ability was impressive. But I was more intrigued by the moniker for Erde.
Sword ghost? What the hell had she been up to for the dean to call her that?
We'd spent plenty of time together, but I'd never heard that nickname.
"Why enter the academy at your age with such accomplishments? You're already complete."
"I'm still below you, Dean."
The real reason was this being the novel's main stage, but I couldn't say that. So I spun a plausible excuse.
"What cheek."
But the dean seemed genuinely pleased, chuckling heartily.
"Surpassing me at that... Yes, a feasible dream for you."
"Not for other students?"
"The academy teaches dreams and hopes—but also to beware idle fantasies."
Immense confidence. No matter how the students soared, surpassing him was a pipe dream.
Yet I couldn't argue. He had the credentials.
"Misaimed goals can be poison."
"Of course, it varies by the person."
The dean eyed me oddly while smiling—like a professor spotting promising grad student material.
A chill ran down my spine. I quickly changed the subject.
"Where's the exam held?"
Come to think of it, he'd come for the special exam, but we'd been chatting about everything else.
"Follow me."
I trailed after the dean as he trudged ahead.
'Why's everyone coming out to greet me? It's embarrassing.'
The exam hall was packed with professors staring me down.
Most looked displeased. A few eyed me with interest.
'Don't they usually watch via scrying orb or something?'
The cliché was professors murmuring, "Hmm, these cadets are impressive," from afar. Why bother showing up for one commoner's special exam?
"That's the sword ghost's disciple?"
"No standout traits at first glance..."
"Disciple of that infamous woman. Can't be ordinary."
I can hear you all, you know. Was backbiting daily life at this academy?
Students and staff alike seemed busy gossiping behind backs.
'And how do they know I'm Erde's disciple?'
The dean saw the letter, but these professors shouldn't have heard. Erde sure was popular.
"What do I need to do?"
"Satisfy the professors."
"That's too vague."
"That's why it's freer. No rigid format to bind you."
"Is that why so many came to watch?"
"No, it's because you're the sword ghost's disciple."
"They say a master's grace is like the heavens. Heavens my ass. Not helpful."
If her notoriety was that widespread, she should've warned me. I'd assumed she was a hermit master since she avoided mingling.
'Still, gotta fix this.'
Even if my master trolled me, it was my duty as disciple to clean up.
Shing!
I drew my sword.
The noise ceased. The sword's hum lingered in my ears.
I inhaled deeply, gazing along the blade. The reflected light gleamed pure white.
A hazy crimson tint bloomed within that hue. The heat haze I'd imbued grew ever sharper.
"S-Sword Aura?"
"At that age, how...?"
Murmurs intruded on the silence. But it was fine.
The resonance was complete. I exhaled the long-held breath and swung.
A translucent trail etched the sword path through the air. Seeing the afterimage, a technique name from a pre-possession comic flashed in my mind.
Should I say it? Honestly, I couldn't resist.
"Kamusal."
Advanced sword slash technique splitting space
The world split open.