Midterm Exam (2)
Clang! The sharp ring of metal echoed through the air. Sparks flew with every clash of swords, and gusts of wind laced with sword ki whipped around them. The ground was already scarred with countless blade marks from dozens of exchanges, and the scarred area kept expanding.
Even so, the two combatants paid no heed to their surroundings, swinging their blades relentlessly.
"Get farther back!"
"Gah! You're gonna slice me!"
"I said back off!"
The students hurriedly widened their distance from the ferocious intensity. One wrong move, and those razor-sharp edges would shred them to pieces. In fact, victims had just emerged—students who ignored Professor Mailon's warnings and lingered too close. Their clothes were slashed in multiple places.
That's... way too dangerous.
That realization had firmly taken root in the students' minds. But at the same time, they couldn't tear their eyes away from the spectacle unfolding before them. And it wasn't because of Professor Mailon, a swordmaster. No, it was due to the delinquent he'd praised lavishly before the match began—Kyle Arden.
His thrusting strikes were ferociously powerful, his efficient sword paths flawless. The sword ki coating his blade gleamed with crystal clarity. That alone was enough to captivate the students.
"Was he... always this good?"
"Last time, ten minutes was his limit..."
"How long's it been now...? Huh? Twenty minutes?"
Students watched the duel in a daze, murmuring such exchanges. Soon, doubts and theories rippled through the crowd. And rightly so—it was just too bizarre.
Just last week, that delinquent hadn't been anywhere near this level. At best, mid-tier among the students—and that was generous.
"A substitute...?"
"The professor would've noticed a sub!"
"Then magic tools or spells..."
"That's even less likely. You think fooling a Master is easy? You'd need at least 8-circle magic to trick the professor—and he's just standing there."
"But it's weird. How does he improve this much in a week? And holding out this long against the professor? Only Her Highness can even spar with him."
Everyone nodded at that student's words. Under equalized physical conditions, only the princess could duel the professor. Right now, he was matching the delinquent's level accordingly. Yet the match was unfolding much like one with the princess.
"No way that rumor was true?"
"Oh, that thing from practicals? I thought it was bullshit."
Perhaps because the scene defied reality, the students recalled an absurd rumor from a few weeks back. Kyle Arden had shone brilliantly in a team with the top first- and second-years. A pivotal, exemplary performance that earned lavish praise from the professors.
If that rumor held truth, his swordsmanship—superior enough to make their own seem pathetic—made sense. Of course, they bought the rumor, but how he'd grown so strong remained dubious. He was the underachiever whispered to be a bastard child due to his lowly talent.
No mere effort could reach that realm. Not in just two months.
No one could answer their burning curiosity. The students fell silent only after veering into absurd speculations like him selling his soul or hiding his power all along.
"He won't score higher than us, right?"
"His evaluation's different, so if he's unlucky..."
"But look at the professor's face..."
Professor Mailon's expression brimmed with ecstasy. An A or higher seemed guaranteed. But that felt unfair. They hadn't slacked off either, so why reward a delinquent who'd somehow cheated his way to strength? Sure, the professor called him something other than a delinquent now, but that was just the professor's view. Hatred still festered in the students' hearts.
Thus, they itched to sabotage him if he scored high. They couldn't overturn the professor's decision, but they could make his life hell.
Claaang!! A ear-piercing screech rang out as a crack formed where the blades met. The tiny fissure spread slowly at first, then the sword's center snapped clean, the piece clattering to the ground.
"Ah, damn."
Ridiculously, that was all the culprit—the one who'd shattered it—could say. I stared blankly at my broken sword.
This blade from Veil wasn't some treasured heirloom. I'd just kept using it because it was decent. But now it'd shattered mid-exam. Not my fault—the professor's.
I shot Professor Mailon an incredulous look.
"You trying to kill me or what?"
He'd started off matching me nicely. But later, sensing I had margin thanks to the Black Return Pill, he'd ramped up the intensity to draw out my all—leading to this.
"Kuhaha! Sorry, got too excited and slipped up."
He burst into laughter.
Slipped up my ass. That was pure bloodlust.
I spat curses inwardly while brushing dirt off my clothes. Meanwhile, he approached, inspecting the sword's broken edge.
"Hmm, high-quality steel. Must hurt to lose it."
"Yeah, it does. So how're you compensating? Hunting exam's the day after tomorrow."
Tomorrow was written, no issue. But the practical followed. A standard-issue sword would do, but I needed a good one to wrap it up quick.
"Hahaha! I'll lend you one—easy fix! What're you worried about?"
Professor Mailon slapped my back—hard enough to rattle my bones. He said to drop by his office later for compensation, then wrapped up.
"Seriously, reaching this level so fast. This is why I love Tianis Academy—always some kid exceeding expectations!"
He laughed heartily, clearly delighted. I got it, really. Anyone wants to help a hardworking student.
"Exam's over for today. Dismissed!"
Checking his watch, he bellowed. Three hours had flown with this many students, and no more duels after mine. The students looked dissatisfied but gathered their gear and left.
Hmm, trouble's brewing...
The vibe screamed it. I'd expected issues after shining too bright in the first exam, with my rep only good among professors.
Time to work on my image...
I'd ignored it before, but now? Had to uproot that hatred in their hearts. Or it'd spill onto the protagonists.
[Kyle, you seem in a real bind. Feel free to name-drop me if you need.]
I replied sternly.
'What're you after this time.'
[Oh my, don't I seem so mercenary? Between us, that's nothing. What do you think?]
'Pass. I'd sooner deal with demons than rely on you.'
[Too bad. It was pure goodwill. No worries—use my name anytime it suits you. No permission needed.]
With that, the World Tree disconnected. I clicked my tongue inwardly.
'Fall for that obvious ploy to boost her divinity? No thanks.'
Mortals invoking gods elevates fame, which turns to faith—and faith amplifies divinity. No way I'd enable that.
I grabbed the shattered sword fragments to leave the training ground. Then two telepathic messages arrived behind me.
A+ is locked in for this exam—no worries about the score. Looking forward to finals too.
Nice duel. It's only day one—keep it up.
I glanced at them both in response to their praise, then exited the training ground.
At the entrance, people waited for me.
"How'd the exam go, Young Master?"
"Kyle, welcome back! Exam okay?"
"Eh, decent enough. You guys got here early."
"Yeah! Written exam today—finished in twenty minutes."
Rana wasn't top of her year for nothing. Valedictorian meant peak theory and practicals. In the novel, she'd never lost her spot.
"Must've waited ages then. Hungry?"
"Starving!"
"Figured."
At least two hours, easy. I suggested the student cafeteria. They agreed, and we headed there. Afterward, I hit the professor's office for my new sword from Mailon. Fitting for a knight—tons of weapons everywhere. I picked the one that fit my hand best. Design and specs? Meh, as long as sharp and sturdy.
And crucially, as apology, I got a voucher for Orange Forge. Limited amount, but he'd cover costs. Not pure kindness—motivation to train harder.
After exams, then.
Day one wrapped like that.
The next day, the day after, and every exam day after that.
I tackled them seriously for top-50 scores, as planned. Tianis Academy brimmed with talent and numbers—average scores wouldn't cut it.
Worried written exams? Nailed them cold. Expected A? My world's knowledge was surface-level—no deep answers. Library grinding made it possible. Without department facilities, it'd be B or C for sure.
Practicals? Effortless. Physical stuff was my wheelhouse. Some professors praised like Mailon.
Finally, the last exam day arrived. As it wound down, some students loosened up—or rather, cracked. Glazed eyes, limp bodies, zombie shuffles.
I saw opportunity to rack points and stayed sharp. Exam ended.
"Uwaaah..."
Stretching, I loosened my stiff body. All exams done—pure liberation washed over me. First time feeling it, oddly satisfying. Guess actual school exams were novel for me.
Not a bad vibe, honestly.
"Nuna, exams over—wanna head out and..."
But I trailed off. Someone approached.
I schooled my face and greeted her.
"What brings you, Professor Naella?"
"Need to talk. Got a minute?"
"Plenty of time."
She led me to her office for privacy. Elraim waited outside. Closing the door slowly, the professor said,
"Sorry to ask, but... could you take a makeup exam?"
Here it comes.