Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Exam
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◆
“⋯⋯Whoa.”
A gasp of admiration slipped from Carlyle’s lips unbidden.
The carriage had arrived at an absurdly massive facility.
Was it even right to call it a facility? Staring at something the size of several cities combined made the word “academy” feel inadequate.
There were even buildings soaring sky-high like the skyscrapers from the world he’d inhabited before possessing this body.
‘This is an educational institution?’
One obvious fact: the level of social infrastructure is proportional to technological advancement.
In a medieval fantasy setting, a scale like this was more than enough to claim the title of the continent’s finest.
Though it fell under the jurisdiction of the Imperial Knights, he couldn’t help thinking it might even dwarf their headquarters.
“Not for nothing do they say you’re well-educated.”
As Carlyle whistled, a snort came from the Holy Sword.
[Thanks, but no need.]
“Huh?”
[Thanks to me, you’ll be one of the most standout freshmen here.]
“⋯⋯.”
Was he supposed to thank it for that?
It felt like a veiled warning that things would get annoying.
Carlyle tilted his head and started walking.
He had to follow the signs welcoming new students.
The scenes he passed were brimming with energy. Vibrant would be putting it mildly.
An explosion rocked the second floor, sending someone flying out of the building. From what he overheard, the magic formula they’d just tried combining had poor compatibility.
He slipped through an alley, excusing himself between a bickering man and woman. The guy was clearly in the wrong. Moments later, the woman yanked a hand cannon from her back and fired it in a fit of rage. Impressively, the student who took the bullet shrugged it off, and no one around batted an eye.
And that wasn’t all.
A Knight Department student scaling a sheer wall barefoot until a teacher stopped them. An Orthodox Church exchange student using holy power to restrain a passing student for some forced proselytizing. A Mechanical Engineering student screaming as their mystery machine glitched during testing⋯⋯
The place teemed with incomprehensible superhumans. Tossed together, they brewed up all sorts of incidents and chaos, yet it all buzzed with lively cheer.
A typical scene at the continent’s top educational institution, the Cradle.
‘Gray’s probably⋯⋯’
He’d heard she’d already been summoned by the academy leadership for an interview.
Makes sense—she was the Hero. Treating her like any other freshman would be the real oddity.
Unlike freshmen like him who had to take the “entrance exam.”
Gray’s comment on the exam had been simple, for reference.
- Pass the exam, or I’ll kill you.
Hmm.
⋯⋯Hmm.
“⋯⋯Why does a servant like me even need to take an entrance exam? Can’t they just wave me through?”
[Too many people gunning for that spot.]
“Huh?”
[Plenty want to cozy up to the Hero. To turn them all down flat, you can’t have any blemishes. They’ll exploit any opening they find.]
“What a hassle.”
[Or you could see it as a good thing.]
“Huh?”
[In other words, she wants you by her side and isn’t leaving room for those offers.]
“Reading too much into a dream?”
[I’m the one being interpreted?]
“⋯⋯.”
Fair point.
Carlyle chuckled and kept walking.
The new student welcome hall loomed ahead.
“Welcome, freshmen!”
“⋯⋯.”
A familiar dialect rang out from a professor at the front.
A woman with striking red hair flashed a dazzling smile as she led the students.
‘⋯⋯Hero. That’s her.’
[The one you dropped in one hit. Siona Libel, Spirit Knight.]
A Spirit Knight—Templar, right? One of the Round Table.
‘She was that big a deal?’
Carlyle scratched his head as he eyed her.
“I’m Siona Libel, takin’ on the professor role for this short year. Once you’re all enrolled, we’ll be spendin’ some hot times together! Bet you’re thrilled to meet me, eh?”
“⋯⋯.”
What to say.
Chatty.
Fussy, cheerful, energetic, scatterbrained.
The students’ eyes glazed over in real time at their first professor’s nonstop chatter.
‘⋯⋯Seems friendly.’
[They’re ice-cold inside despite the act. Don’t underestimate her.]
‘I know.’
He’d witnessed the Templars’ might with his own eyes multiple times after the Hell invasion.
Unless you were strong enough to solo an entire knight brigade, you didn’t even get a shot at becoming a Templar. And among those, the elite were the Knights of the Round Table.
Spirit Knight wasn’t as familiar since she’d died before the invasion, but still.
Lost in those thoughts, he noticed she was efficiently directing students to scatter toward their assigned exam rooms.
As Carlyle blended into the group, a voice called out.
“Oh, Student Carlyle?”
“⋯⋯.”
Siona beamed and singled him out, drawing every gaze like arrows.
What makes this guy special?
“Student, yours is elsewhere. I’ll escort you myself.”
“⋯⋯.”
A bad feeling stirred.
◆
“What did you say?”
In the reception room, Gray spoke in a voice cold as ice.
She’d just dropped those words on Siona, who had entered.
“⋯⋯No need to point that sword at me while you talk, right?”
“My call.”
“That’s too much—”
Gray glared daggers at Siona’s pitiful expression before spitting out,
“Why’d you assign my servant to your special exam on a whim?”
“Cardinal Felix’s orders.”
Gray froze.
“⋯⋯Why?”
As she growled back, Siona shrugged.
“No idea. But the Cardinal’s mighty interested in seein’ how far that man can go.”
Gray’s face darkened further. Her hand crept toward her sword.
“You—”
“I swear on the spirits I’ve contracted—no reports from me.”
“⋯⋯.”
“I won’t report on him myself goin’ forward. But I can’t control the Cardinal’s will.”
“⋯⋯.”
Gray took a deep breath and lowered her sword. Siona’s perpetually narrowed eyes widened slightly.
Hero’s killing intent draped over her, yet her gaze held curiosity, not fear.
“—Unexpected. Thought I’d take a hit for sure.”
“Swearing on your spirits means it’s true. No point hitting an innocent.”
“⋯⋯.”
Siona’s mouth parted slightly as she stared at Gray.
Was this the same person who’d draw her sword at the slightest offense just days ago?
“Hero, you seem awful fond of that man. In such a short time.”
“⋯⋯.”
“Careful, or you two might turn into somethin’ special—”
Siona folded like paper.
Gray, seated, had lashed out with a lightning front kick to her gut.
“⋯⋯Yeah, guess you’re not hooked at all.”
“⋯⋯Hmph.”
Gray snorted and tapped the table.
“Cut the nonsense and hand it over.”
“Huh?”
“The magitech core. Exam rooms are all on camera, right?”
The dean for her interview wasn’t due for a while.
In the meantime.
“Let’s watch that guy take his exam.”
“Eh—worried about him? What’s this, you two are all buddy-bud—”
“⋯⋯.”
“⋯⋯Got it, got it. No sword, please.”
Siona swiftly fetched the magitech core and set it on the table.
A slit opened in its center, projecting a scene into the air.
Gray’s eyes narrowed at the sight.
“They stick that on freshmen?”
Inside the core, automata approached Carlyle—several magitech dolls mimicking various beasts.
Refined combat puppets, of course not lethal like real beasts since they were for exams. Still, brutal for a mere freshman.
“Yeah, real specs.”
“⋯⋯.”
“But the lowest grade.”
Gray stared at Siona, speechless.
Even lowest-grade beasts were for trained knights in actual combat.
Students training to become those knights—freshmen barely at the academy’s gates—weren’t meant to face them!
“⋯⋯Are you insane? What if he dies—”
“If it gets too dangerous, it stops itself.”
Gray clamped her mouth shut at Siona’s smug grin.
“Whoa, Hero, you’re really worried about that guy—”
“Shut it.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Gray watched the core’s feed with narrowed eyes.
Worried? Hardly.
Not exactly.
“⋯⋯.”
If things went south, she’d have to bail him out.
That was her plan.
“⋯⋯Huh?”
Until Carlyle’s immediate action drew an involuntary blank from her.
She gripped the magitech core tightly. The scene inside was unbelievable.
After a long silence, a dazed voice escaped her.
“⋯⋯How the hell are you using that⋯⋯?”
◆
No matter how he thought about it, something was off.
‘⋯⋯Hero.’
[Yes.]
‘This isn’t for freshmen, right?’
Carlyle pondered as ferocious roars closed in from the surrounding automata.
These screamed regular knight combat drills, not freshman fodder. A normal person would be shredded in seconds.
[Correct. Someone’s got a nasty sense of humor targeting you.]
‘Really?’
[But a fine chance to test yourself.]
‘What?’
[Could even be a good thing.]
What nonsense.
Carlyle frowned, but the Holy Sword spoke calmly from within.
[These? Smash them worry-free. No fallout.]
Half-baked foes required holding back—far trickier.
Carlyle smirked, reading between the lines.
Optimistic. Something to emulate.
‘Alright then.’
Let’s do this.
Swinging a sword wasn’t new. He’d powered up and fought countless times across loops.
But Carlyle’s talent was average at best. By any measure, this body couldn’t handle them.
Unless he had one cheat key.
The Hero’s mana infused the Holy Sword.
Then, the three skills copied on her orders activated in sequence.
[Skill Info]
◆ Body Reinforcement: Wind Talker
[ A foundational body reinforcement art created by the legendary warrior ‘Storm Knight.’ It subtly enhances physical functions by drawing in the power of wind. ]
◆ Footwork: Floating Grass
[ A foundational footwork created by the first boxer, ‘Wanderer of Spring.’ Soft like swaying grass yet firm in maintaining balance. ]
◆ Swordsmanship: Three Talents
[ A foundational swordsmanship collection created by an nameless swordsman from the Far East. Simple, yet it encompasses the fundamentals of all. ]
True to form, Gray knew every martial style under the sun. Enough to embody these disparate ‘combat techniques’ as skills.
‘When she first suggested these, I thought she was nuts⋯⋯’
In game terms, three low-tier skills from totally different trees. A blatant waste of skill points.
But.
⋯⋯Before arriving at the academy, he’d trained alone and been shocked by their effects.
He’d felt what veteran advice really meant.
So.
[Skill Info]
[ Activating ‘Skill Chain’: Wind Talker – Floating Grass – Three Talents. ]
[ Special Skill: Mind's Eye activates! ]
Who knew basic skills hid this ‘effect.’
Carlyle took a deep breath and gripped the Holy Sword.
In his mind: Gray’s battle from a past loop. Image training the Holy Sword had drilled into him.
Certain strike. Certain hit. Certain kill.
Draw the sword, and it ends in death.
He closed his eyes and assumed position.
Felt the surroundings not with eyes, but ‘sensation.’
Then.
[Now.]
One concise swing.
And an automaton shattered to pieces.