Admission (2): Shattered Spear
The chilling blade of the battle axe hurtled toward me.
An attack so swift I couldn't even perceive it.
Clang!
"Urk!"
But my body reacted to the blow.
It moved on its own to block an assault I hadn't even registered.
"Ugh!"
Of course, that didn't mean there was no pain.
My body merely moved. It ignored the shock rippling through me.
Everything else was left for my mind to endure alone.
Empty your head.
My body was moving independently of my will right now.
The instant I tried to control it consciously, it froze solid.
The throbbing agony in my abdomen was proof enough of that.
The moment I'd thought to block the attack, my body had stalled—and the man's fist had slammed home.
Stop thinking.
But that, too, was a thought.
Trapped in this dilemma, my limits were crystal clear.
Even so, I had no choice but to push on.
Sparks flew as spear met axe.
The blades glanced off each other; I swiftly regained my crumbling balance.
The halberd slashed down from above, the axe surged up from below.
Clang!
Sparks erupted savagely once more.
The shock traveling up my arms kept intensifying.
My trembling arms could barely hold the spear anymore.
But my body didn't stop.
The man before me didn't stop either.
We lunged at each other like beasts intent on devouring one another.
Yet while he dropped into a low, stable stance, my body was still off-kilter.
The gap between us began to widen.
Even if I'd held the initiative at first, he was gradually seizing the rhythm, the breathing, the flow.
Clang!
Finally, the clash came in my unsteady posture.
Without a solid base, my strike lacked power.
As a result, my body floated briefly into the air.
The man used the momentum to spin his body wide.
The accelerating axe blade carved a horizontal arc toward me.
I desperately raised my spear to block, but it was too far.
The distance was far too great to parry with the blade.
In the end, it was the wooden shaft that met the axe.
The man's strength was overwhelming for the frail timber, which splintered in two as the axe cleaved across my front.
With the spear gone, my body finally halted.
It felt like the strings puppeteering my limbs had snapped.
I moved my right hand, which had gripped the shaft where the blade once was.
I reversed my hold on the broken spear like a dagger and thrust it straight at the man's gut.
My first attack driven by my own will.
The man’s eyes widened at my unexpected move.
Squish.
Blood trickled along the blade.
Hot as molten iron, it flowed from the edge to the shaft and onto my gripping hand.
"...That was a good strike."
The man's hand clamped down on the spearhead I'd thrust.
It had landed—a solid hit—but not a fatal one.
His other hand still gripped the battle axe, its blade exuding a cold menace.
Compared to that, my weapon was shattered, its blade caught in his grasp.
With no options left, I asked him outright.
"Does this mean... I pass?"
My whole body felt sodden and heavy, like I'd been dunked in water.
My right hand, clutching the shaft, lost its strength; my fist unclenched.
If even this wasn't enough to pass, I had nothing else.
The man looking down at me curled his lips into a grin.
"Congratulations, freshman. You pass."
His words hit, and my body crumpled to the ground.
I was utterly exhausted.
The next day, as I left the dorm for the entrance ceremony, Alessia was waiting at the entrance.
She usually stuck to green clothes and jewelry, but the black-based outfit suited her surprisingly well.
Fashion's true finisher is the face, after all.
"Rion, is your body feeling better?"
"Still heavy as lead."
The fatigue from yesterday's bout had been crushing—I could hardly take a proper step.
The techniques that emerged when I surrendered control to my body were impossible to replicate right now.
Summoning realms I hadn't reached yet was a double-edged sword: powerful, but brutal on the flesh.
Still, I couldn't stay like that forever.
I had to internalize those lingering sensations and make the skills my own.
"Well then, shall we go?"
"Yes, Rion!"
I headed to the ceremony venue with Alessia.
As we neared the grand auditorium, more and more students appeared.
Soon, I grew used to the sight of them in the academy uniforms—black base like the imperial flag, accented with red.
Clop-clop.
Then, hoofbeats echoed from afar, one after another.
The students hearing them cleared the road's center, and I pulled Alessia to the side by the hand.
Splendid carriages crossed the cleared path.
And among the many, the most ornate one passed by.
The only one bearing the imperial flag.
"That's probably..."
"Yeah, that bitch's carriage."
The curtained windows hid the interior.
If there'd been no curtain, would I have seen Lucia?
If so, would she have seen me?
Impossible to know until opened.
"..."
Was it my imagination? The curtain seemed to twitch ever so slightly.
The grand auditorium held rows upon rows of chairs. Commoners could sit anywhere empty.
Nobles, however, had reserved front-row seats with better chairs.
Takes me back.
The setup reminded me of my pre-possession entrance ceremony, drawing an unwitting smile.
"It's Erin."
Then my eyes met Erin's as she headed for the front row.
For a split second, she looked ready to bounce over, but she glanced around, then settled for waving hello.
"Tch."
"Don't be like that. Without Erin, you might not have even gotten in."
"...Fine."
Alessia couldn't muster a retort this time and quietly acquiesced.
Nothing特别 noteworthy about the ceremony itself.
It kicked off with the dean's speech, followed by introductions to the academy and professors.
With students' parents—especially nobles—present, they seemed to put extra effort in.
Then one person ascended the central podium.
"Lucia..."
Standing at the podium's heart, Lucia began to speak.
I couldn't really grasp what she was saying, even listening.
To a guy like me, it was just lip service.
Next up was the top magic department enrollee and the Tower Lord's disciple: Erin took the stage.
As Erin stepped forward, the gazes of the magic students shifted.
They'd been apathetic even during the princess's speech, but now they hung on her every word.
To me, she was always the cute little-sister type calling me "oppa" and trailing after.
Seeing her as an object of envy was a fresh perspective.
Now for the knight department's top enrollee.
A man with blue hair walked up to the podium.
"..?"
"What's wrong, Rion?"
"Alessia, who was the knight department's top enrollee last round?"
Alessia averted her eyes, grasping what I meant.
As far as I knew, that spot should've gone to someone else—not this guy.
"Where's Camilla?"
Camilla de Croizen.
Eldest daughter of the Croizen family, perennial knight order commanders.
A swordsmanship genius.
The setting even noted how the family's stuffy elders, after witnessing her skill, never dared suggest a political marriage.
Originally, Erin took magic top spot, Camilla knights.
Depending on whether the player chose knight or mage route, you'd grow close to one or the other.
I lifted my hips slightly, scanning the nobles' seats.
Her fiery red hair, the Croizen emblem itself, would be easy to spot.
"Found...?"
The redhead I located looked nothing like my memory.
This wasn't like Alessia or Erin's behavioral shifts.
It wasn't the Camilla from my memories—hair in a ponytail, exuding bold confidence.
Her hair hung loose and unbound, head demurely bowed like a proper lady.
Unlike the Camilla who'd shunned accessories as "distracting," she now wore earrings and a necklace.
"Miss Camilla..."
"Camilla?"
"...She no longer wields a sword. After your death, Rion, she broke her own blade."