Second Semester Final Exams (9)
"I have absolutely no idea what we're supposed to do here."
Standing in an endless corridor, Arthur clutched his face and groaned, his voice thick with irritation.
"There ought to be *something*—a clue, a hint, anything actually useful. Lucy Aln."
It had been a good half day since they'd cleared the fourth room of the dungeon studies exam.
And Arthur's party still hadn't found a way forward.
Recalling that the initial corridor and the fourth room were connected had been a good start. They'd assumed that by probing the differences between the two corridors—trying this and that—they would eventually find a thread leading out of the labyrinth, and by following it, reach the next room.
But the thread that had seemed to glimmer before their eyes only fled further into the distance as time passed, refusing to let itself be caught.
In the half day since entering the room, Arthur's party had tried everything they could think of.
They poked at the furniture and decorations of the original corridor, wondering if something might be hidden in the placement of the portraits.
They wandered the halls casting Dispel and purification, half-expecting concealed magic.
They attacked the walls and the lighting fixtures on the off chance something needed to be broken.
They tried carrying the picture frames and ornaments over from the first room.
They sprinted blindly ahead, hoping the corridor simply had an end.
They combed back through all three cleared rooms, worried they'd overlooked something.
They even recited aloud the taunt Lucy Aln had written on the back of the note.
But every single attempt only deepened their irritation with Lucy, contributing not the smallest crumb to clearing the dungeon.
And so, before they knew it, Arthur's party had squandered an entire half day for nothing.
"Damn it all. What are we missing?"
While Arthur tore at his hair and fumed, Frey was silently hammering her sword down against the wall, her brow faintly furrowed—as if she thought if she kept at it long enough, the wall might just give way.
Phoebe approached Arthur, who looked ready to explode on the spot, and gently soothed his temper, warning him that losing his composure would only drag him into a deeper pit.
And Joy—
Joy stood in the middle of the corridor, staring blankly into the darkness of the seemingly endless hall.
What a mess.
We've tried everything we could possibly think of, so why can't we find even the faintest clue?
Unable to shake the creeping frustration, Joy took a step forward without much thought.
"Huh?!"
Something caught her foot, and she pitched forward.
At the sound of her crash, Arthur let out a long sigh at the sight of Joy sprawled on the floor.
"Trying to lighten the mood with a pratfall, are we? What a heroic sacrifice."
"...I did just fall over. A little concern would be nice."
"Concern about what? You're sturdy as an anvil—no way a tumble like that hurt you. Ah, wait. I *should* worry—what if the shock of falling gets us kicked out of the exam? Now that would be a problem."
"Your Highness, please don't take your anger out on me..."
A sense of wrongness.
By any measure, a tiny, trivial little wrongness.
But in a situation where they were desperate for even the smallest clue, it was a wrongness she absolutely could not overlook.
When Joy trailed off mid-sentence and went quiet, Arthur—who had been sniping at her only moments before—studied her face carefully.
"...Ah. Joy. I apologize. I was out of line."
"Your Highness."
"Y-yes?"
"When we re-examined the third room, you said it resembled the first room, remember?"
"Er, yes, I did. Finding where to strike, finding what must be felled. Similar in that both demand keen observation, no?"
"So then you speculated there might be a common thread between the second room and the fourth."
"That I did, but—as you well know—that speculation bore no fruit whatsoever."
Arthur had floated that theory only a few hours ago. He'd strained since then to find common ground between the second and fourth rooms, but in the end, his hypothesis had left nothing behind.
"No. I think it might have been right all along."
Until now, that is.
"Huh?"
"Yes. That's it. If you think about it that way, every oddity we've felt suddenly lines up."
Lost in her own train of thought, Joy paid no heed to the eyes and voices around her, simply pouring out whatever surfaced in her mind. It was the peculiar eccentricity unique to mages—something rarely glimpsed in Joy, who ordinarily strove so hard to be the picture of a perfect noble lady.
"If this entire room is an illusion, it explains everything!"
Arthur, who had known her long enough to understand she was just as capable of brilliance as she was of clumsiness, quietly focused on her voice.
"Why is this room absurdly larger than the other three? Simple! Because what we're seeing here is fake!"
"Why won't the walls or decorations take damage? Think of it like the wolf we couldn't bring down—it makes perfect sense!"
"Why did Lady Aln leave no clues behind? Because the *absence* itself is the clue! The fact that there's nothing to find anywhere else—*that* is the anomaly!"
Joy was working herself into a delighted fervor before she realized the other three were all staring at her. Flustered, she whipped out her fan and hid her reddening face behind it.
"Keep going. That is the command of the Third Prince."
"W-well. Do you remember what was at the end of the original corridor?"
"Yes. There was a cradle there. Along with that ridiculous note about needing to find the exit to escape the labyrinth."
"And a cradle is where a baby sleeps, isn't it? The corridor continuing on *beyond* the thing where sleep ends—that can only mean one thing."
"...A dream! This corridor is a dream!"
"Exactly. We're trapped inside a dream right now."
"If this place is a dream, then the meaning of that note is obvious! To escape the labyrinth, find the exit! So then—what must one do to escape a *dream*!"
A massive shock. The kind of shock that jolts a person bolt upright from sleep.
"Then don't tell me Lucy Aln deliberately told us how to break out of the dungeon—"
"She was making sure we couldn't clear the room through self-harm. She blocked the exploit *and* handed us a hint at the same time."
"And the taunting message on the back—she wrote it so we wouldn't find it strange that she'd given us the note at all! Haha! And here I thought she was simply mocking us, when there was a reason all along! Well, no matter! Whatever her reason, it doesn't matter! What matters is that our objective is finally clear—"
Having reached the answer to the room's puzzle, Arthur suddenly realized something and turned toward Joy.
There she stood, a mischievous smile playing behind her fan.
"Now then. Time to wake up."
"Wait—Joy. Let me apologize once more. I'm truly sorry for snapping at you earlier."
"Um, Joy, I'm sorry too, for nagging you the other day. You know I only said it because I was worried about you, right?"
"I don't really get it, but I'm super sorry too."
"Fufu. Everyone. Your Highness. Do I look like someone who would entrust private feelings to a place like this?"
"Your eyes are absolutely brimming with private feelings right now! Wa—wait! Fine! I'll wake up myself! So—"
"Your Holiness, if something goes wrong, please save me."
"Hmmm. If I'm feeling merciful at the time, I'll try."
"Here I go."
"I said WAIT, didn't Iiii!"
Adri had warned me to watch my back, but it wasn't as if there was anything I could actually do about it.
I *am* keeping an eye on my surroundings, okay?! I'm sweating buckets inside every time someone shoots me one of those prickly glares!
But what am I supposed to do about it?! The Mesugaki skill is out here screwing me over!
The only thing within my power right now is to pray that the people who saw the first hint get so furious they refuse to look at the second!
Muttering complaints at the sheer unfairness of it all, I returned to the academy and was about to head to my room when I changed course toward the place where the dungeon studies exam was being held.
So if it's a bomb bound to go off eventually, you decided to simply set it off early?
'...Could you please not make me out to be that kind of trash?'
If this were a bomb that would only ever detonate once, I could just let it blow and deal with the fallout in peace. But that's not what this is!
This is an *earthquake*, okay?! Even after the first rumble-and-crash, the aftershocks just keep on coming!
You sound rather exhausted. Your way with words is deteriorating.
'Anyway! I am NOT going there to gloat!'
Then why are you going? It won't be a pleasant sight, will it?
'...Because I'm curious. How far they've gotten by now.'
The last time I'd checked was right before the first batch of examinees entered.
By then, the fourth room had already been cleared.
Seeing Arthur's party's name at the very top of the leaderboard, above Kurten and Cecil's, honestly made me a little proud.
I wanted to shout *those are the kids I trained!* to somebody. Of course, with nobody to brag to, I'd had to bury that joy in my heart.
Anyway—Arthur's party had reached the fourth room by morning, so by now they should have arrived at the fifth.
You aren't curious whether they cleared it. You just want to hear their reactions once they get past the fourth room.
'...Grandpa, you know me way too well.'
Grandpa was right. I just wanted to hear what they'd say once they got past the fourth room. I'd poured a lot of care into crafting that part.
Even if all I got was groveling prostration, I wanted to hear the praise!
I wanted to be told I did a good job!
I understand your heart, truly. But did those lot actually make it past the fourth room?
'They should have, right?'
Sure, the fourth room's gimmick looked a bit daunting at first glance, but once you caught on to the trick, it was frustratingly easy.
I didn't think it was hard enough to stall them this long.
Hard to say.
'Grandpa, you really do have a habit of underestimating everyone around you.'
It was only because a rottenwater veteran of Soul Academy like me stood out so much—but the talent of the people around me was anything but shabby.
Just look at how rapidly they grew the moment their training methods changed.
Joy could already cast spells weaving together multiple magic circles—magic that mages normally couldn't touch until the middle of their second year.
Frey could wield aura freely now.
Even Phoebe was growing by leaps and bounds under Bishop Johann's tutelage.
Arthur, the slowest grower of the bunch, only lagged because he trained both sword and magic in parallel.
Yet all of them were already showing results that comfortably surpassed the first-year academy standard.
I could vouch for it—both as the rottenwater I used to be, watching my characters through a monitor, and as the me of now, who had watched them struggle and strain up close.
These people were geniuses. They shone with their own talent.
There was no way people like that still hadn't gotten past the fourth room.
And you don't think you overestimate the people around you?
'Not even a little.'
When I shook my head without a moment's hesitation, Grandpa let out a soft chuckle.
Truly, you are a shining, sparkling child.
'...What is that supposed to mean?'
It just is.
No. Excuse me. Grandpa. Could you please not treat me like a little kid?
That attitude of *you don't need to know*—it really, really ticks me off, you know?
I felt a stubborn urge bloom in me to force a proper explanation out of Grandpa's mouth, but sadly, that stubbornness vanished without leaving a single trace.
Ho. My girl. It seems they have not betrayed your expectations.
'...Looks like it.'
The leaderboard of the Soul Academy dungeon studies exam. A board covered in countless names, set up specifically to stoke the competitive fire for the first clear.
And at the very top of that board, written where no one else's name could stand, was—
[Arthur's Party: Currently Clearing Floor 5]
The name of my friends.