The Unfair Divide
While I was lost in that unpleasant thought, the once-empty seats gradually filled with students one by one. About ten minutes after everyone had settled in, a male teacher entered the classroom.
"Welcome, everyone. My name is Cedric, and I'll be in charge of you for the coming year. Before I explain the schedule, we'll be conducting a simple survey for each student today."
After introducing himself as Cedric, the teacher gave the class a brief announcement. I didn't know exactly what we'd be learning here since that fell under the setting's domain, but if I considered only the functions from when this was a game, there were three main options: training to build strength or agility stats, arcane research to improve magic-related stats or randomly acquire spells, and outings or rest that raised favorability with certain characters or triggered encounter events.
Usually, depending on whether you focused on training or arcane research, you could end up as a muscle-brained idiot with low intelligence but high physical stats... or a glass cannon with strong firepower but pitiful durability. That was why time at the academy felt closer to a raising sim or dating sim than an RPG. Of course, the magic-related choices only applied when you were the protagonist.
"Before we begin the survey, any students who can already use even a tiny amount of magic, please raise your hands."
At the teacher's calm words, arms shot up toward the ceiling from various spots around the classroom. I kept my hands down, maintaining my original posture in silence. The one small comfort was that quite a few others in the room also couldn't use magic. Just as magic was a miracle granted to only a select few, the proportion of students who could use it seemed to be only about one-third of the class.
Among them, my gaze drifted toward a head of strikingly white hair in the distance.
Lucky bastard.
As expected of the protagonist, Kair had raised his hand without hesitation. That indifferent expression, as if it were nothing special. It reminded me of how he'd casually mentioned envying my "freeloader lifestyle" despite having everything, and irritation bubbled up inside me. That feeling was probably longing and envy for something I didn't have.
Scratch, scratch. In the silent classroom, the tip of a quill moved across paper. It seemed he was marking the students who could use magic on the class roster at his desk. After repeatedly looking up and down while moving his quill for a while, Cedric dipped the quill back into the inkwell and continued.
"Now then... among those who didn't raise their hands, if there's anyone unsure whether they can use magic or not, please come up to the desk. I'll bring out the verification tool."
Verifying whether one could use magic or not. At those words, several students stood up as if they'd been waiting for the chance. They were part of the group that hadn't raised their arms when a third of the class had—people whose names I didn't even know, yet with whom I felt an odd sense of kinship. Even so, only a very small number actually stood. Combined, they might not even reach ten.
The students who remained seated already knew, whether they liked it or not. Even if magic existed in this world as a mystery, it simply wasn't theirs. They've probably been tested dozens of times already. Talent—another word for an uncontrollable stroke of luck. An unreasonable, random domain that had nothing to do with effort or desperation.
During the two years I'd spent with Reina, I'd occasionally tried it at the guild. Every time, the result was the same: no talent. Just like that, the mystery called magic had slipped beyond my reach.
I did want to try using it at least once.
Since I'd long since given up, there was no lingering attachment, but a faint sense of regret remained. The students who had stepped forward with a sliver of hope placed their hands on the small statue on the desk, only to return to their seats with short sighs. The gentle-faced statue cradling a clear crystal orb in its arms mercilessly crushed their hopes, its faint smile at odds with the outcome.
Just like that, the number of students who could use magic remained unchanged from the initial survey. Once things seemed settled and the students had all returned to their seats, Cedric spoke again.
"As you might expect, students who cannot use magic will take different classes instead of magic-related ones. You're free to choose which classes to attend during those times, but skipping class is not allowed."
What followed was a long, lecture-like explanation of the academic schedule. Cedric's subject was pure magic. For students who couldn't use magic, whether elemental or pure, there was no reason to interact with him beyond the brief morning and afternoon periods. First period was pure magic, taught by Cedric. Since the first class was magic-related, those of us who couldn't use it immediately left the classroom.
I'd wondered what someone who couldn't use magic could even learn at the academy, but looking at the list of substitute classes, the most familiar option by name was survival training. The others—history, economics, art, music, and pharmacology—felt somewhat alien in this world. After eliminating the seemingly useless options through process of elimination, only survival training and pharmacology remained. Since I couldn't go outside anyway, I figured I might as well get some exercise and chose survival training without much thought.
There was no leisurely self-introduction on the first day. The class started immediately.
"The first rule of survival is stamina! Stamina, and nothing else! You will run, no exceptions! Move!"
The first lesson in survival training was, without a doubt, running. Stamina was the most important thing in survival—that much was obvious, and I understood it. Still, under the orders of a rough-looking teacher who resembled a bandit, the students were suddenly forced into an unexpected marathon. Each of them let out different sighs as they panted for breath. No matter how much my level had increased, running still made me short of breath.
"Haa, hah...!"
"Ehek, kuhk...!"
"Hoo, hoo..."
Mixed among the panting students, I also kept inhaling and exhaling. Due to the nature of the class, there were more male students, but even so, the occasional female students began falling behind with pained expressions.
"Walk and you'll run! Do you think nature cares about your gender?!"
They were probably from well-off families, yet the teacher barked at them in true Spartan fashion. At least my time spent rolling around outside beforehand seemed to be paying off. If these students were around level 1, I was probably around level 20. Naturally, my physical abilities were far superior to theirs. Even among the male students, some were dropping out, but I could still manage for now.
After some time had passed, the students were mechanically circling the field, their steps so unsteady it was hard to tell if they were walking or running, when...
"Stop!"
"Uhe, uek..."
"Huu, hoo..."
The torturous marathon called survival training ended with a short shout. The rough, macho teacher began scanning the exhausted students. It was almost impressive that someone with that appearance was a teacher instead of a bandit leader. Without a single drop of sweat on his face, he crossed his arms in satisfaction, put on a proud expression, and declared triumphantly,
"From now on, survival training will proceed in this manner! If you lack grit, give up early! But let me say this clearly—if you endure this class, your survival rate in life-or-death situations will increase!"
What an obvious thing to say...
I snorted dismissively at the teacher who was grandly proclaiming the obvious. Enduring these classes would increase your survival rate in dire moments. Right, he hadn't said you'd actually survive. It was the kind of wordplay only a con artist would use. Besides, for students attending the academy, throwing money at hiring a good escort would raise their survival rate far more than struggling through these classes.
"Alright, good work, everyone! Return to your classrooms!"
With two loud claps that seemed to burst the air, I headed inside along with the other students. The neat and tidy appearances they'd had when they first came out to the field were nowhere to be seen. Both boys and girls scattered with exhausted faces. On the first day of the academy, we'd already sweated through our first class.
Ugh, it's hot.
Flapping the collar at the back of my neck, I endured the remaining classes in my uniform, unable to take it off. The classes I'd once thought would only require setting a week's schedule and pressing a button now felt far longer than I'd expected, even though I'd braced myself for it.
I have to endure this for three years?
A black-and-white game over screen already seemed to be flashing before my eyes. In the end, no matter what you called it, school was still school.