The Academy Entrance Exam (2)
The great hero Ruel's heroics did not end with the history exam.
Having received long years of education as both a noble and a holy knight, he displayed brilliant wisdom in subjects like mathematics and language as well. Thanks to him, I was able to ride the grace of the great Lord Ruel all the way through those two exams, barreling over every obstacle in my path.
Alas, that grace could not quite reach the discipline of magical theory.
For all his familiarity with the miracles of God, the holy knight Ruel remained hopelessly clumsy with the miracles of man. And so, for magical theory alone, I resolved to place my faith not in Lord Ruel but in the Dice God.
"Is it truly proper to help such a child cheat on her exams?"
Halbaemong muttered in a voice thick with doubt as he watched me spin my pencil, and I ignored him.
Once magical theory was behind me, the last wall standing between me and freedom was the dungeon studies exam.
For this one, I accepted neither Halbaemong's help nor the Dice God's—because I didn't need any.
Because no one alive knew the dungeons of Soul Academy better than I did.
Who in this world could claim to know dungeons better than I, who had cleared every dungeon in existence by every bizarre exploit imaginable?
As far as I could tell, the questions on the entrance exam were easy enough that any veteran of Soul Academy could have answered them in their sleep.
"Girl. Is that truly correct? It differs rather considerably from the knowledge I possess."
"Don't judge me with your century-old outdated brain, grandpa! This is the most efficient method there is!"
"So this is how it is done these days. Either the times rush ever onward, or I have fallen behind them."
Having breezed through the questions on the strength of the knowledge in my head, I submitted my paper and slipped out of the exam hall.
I was headed straight for lunch.
The Soul Academy cafeteria, befitting an establishment prepared for the children of nobility, boasted exceptional quality.
The only catch was that the food was not free.
Then again, the academy cafeteria operated with noble children as its clientele, and nobles were generally drowning in money. There was not a soul who couldn't afford the prices here.
Commoner students, however, were another matter.
They attended school on scholarships that mortgaged their very futures, and the coin they could spend freely was precious little. For students who had to pinch every single penny, eating at the cafeteria was a luxury, so they packed their own lunches instead.
If any commoner had come today without a lunch box, that poor child would be starving until sundown.
Sitting in a corner of the cafeteria, taking in with my own two eyes a scene I had only ever watched through a monitor, I turned my gaze back to the menu.
What should I try today?
My heart wanted to shout, One of everything, from the top of the menu to the bottom!—but my stomach was not nearly that ambitious. Only yesterday, dining at Tiara Mas, I'd been so stuffed by the end that I could barely breathe.
Knowing full well that one menu item would be my limit no matter how hungry I pretended to be, I chose with great care.
"How much longer do you intend to deliberate?"
"Just wait a moment. I'm making the most important decision of my entire life right now."
"Then grab whatever comes to hand. It all tastes the same once it's in your mouth."
"The same? THE SAME?! It is absolutely not the same!"
How could a tender steak made from veal possibly be the same as a steak of salmon delivered straight from its waters via spatial magic? Both may bear the name of steak, but the gulf between land and sea is far too vast!
"Fine. Fine. Deliberate or don't, as you please."
"I was going to anyway."
"That said—there. Your guest approaches."
A guest?
Everyone at this academy avoids me like the plague. Who on earth would come talk to me?
I looked up at Halbaemong's words and saw Joy walking toward me.
Her stately, graceful stride drew every eye in the room—and at the same time, kept every single person from approaching her. Anyone who rashly stepped into that path would clearly be carved apart by those sharp eyes of hers.
"Lady Arln."
The moment Joy reached me, she called my name in a voice like sheet ice.
What now? Why is she here?
Did she come to talk about yesterday?
Forcing down my pounding heart, I waited for her to speak.
"Did your exam go well?"
"Yes, decently enough."
"As if I needed to ask. Isn't that right, Airhead Lady? Of course you did well."
Ah. There goes the Mesugaki skill, calling her Airhead Lady again.
Dammit.
I ought to sew my own mouth shut with a needle.
Hearing my taunt, Joy bit down hard on her lip, folded her arms, and produced a voice frozen several degrees colder.
"Quite confident, aren't we. Then surely you can win our little bet as well?"
She means the bet over the Airhead Lady nickname, presumably?
And if the question is whether I could win it—my answer would be a shake of the head.
Joy may be the Airhead Lady who stumbles at the worst possible moments, but fundamentally, she is exceptionally gifted. She consistently places in the top ten of her entire grade on exams, and her combat ability is rated A-to-S-tier among Soul Academy's cast.
Given my current specs, I might edge her out slightly in the practical, but she would bury me in the written portions by an overwhelming margin. Beating her would be a steep, uphill climb.
But you know what?
Even if I lost the bet, would the Mesugaki skill actually call Joy anything other than Airhead Lady?
This is not a girl who meekly honors requests. Whatever title I mentioned, she would stubbornly call me Airhead Lady anyway—of that I was certain.
And what would I do then?
Eh, whatever. Worrying wouldn't solve anything. Que sera, sera.
"Last night, on my way home, I gave our bet some thought—and I realized the structure of it benefits only me."
Oh. You're right, you know? I have nothing to lose, because you have everything to lose.
But for all that the setup is one-sidedly in my favor, you're the one who proposed the bet, Airhead Lady.
"That's unfair, you see. So you'll have to accept a penalty of your own for when you lose."
"And what would that be?"
"What do you mean?"
"If I win the bet, I get to call you the Tramp Lady!"
Tramp Lady, huh.
It does suit Lucy rather well, I'll admit.
Wait, isn't that already the nickname everyone uses behind her back, though?
Bet or no bet, Joy could call me that to my face any day she liked.
"Suit yourself."
"Have it your way then, Airhead Lady."
Since it didn't feel like a loss to me in the slightest, I nodded—and Joy flashed a smile so vicious it could have murdered someone.
"Overflowing with confidence, aren't we, Tramp Lady! But that confidence dies today!"
As I watched Joy's regal figure sweep away, having delivered her piece, Halbaemong let out a wry chuckle and spoke up.
"I begin to understand why your blessing calls that child the Airhead Lady."
"Right? Once you get past the bias of her face and voice, no nickname could possibly suit her better."
By the time lunch was over, the hour had come for the practical exam I had been yearning for all along.
The first practical was a sparring match.
In this exam, two applicants designated by the academy would fight before the panel of examiners—and critically, victory or defeat was not what mattered.
Judging applicants raised in wildly different circumstances by wins and losses alone would hardly be fair.
What mattered in the sparring match was not strength in that moment, but the talent buried within the examinee.
How far could they blossom through the education Soul Academy provided?
Kal had told me that this—and this alone—was what the examiners fixed their eyes upon.
He had no idea how relieved I was to hear it.
The entire knight order of House Arln, Forsell at its head, had already recognized my talent. There was no way the academy's examiners would grade me poorly!
Having donned the armor I could now put on by myself, I restored Ruel's Mace to its true size. Last of all, I picked up my shield, left the waiting room, and headed for the sparring grounds.
Every face waiting there was one I knew well.
The examiners were faces I'd seen to the point of exhaustion while playing Soul Academy, so of course I recognized them—and as for my opponent, she was the very lady I had traded punches with yesterday. How could I not?
The nameless lady who had picked a fight with me the moment she laid eyes on me.
Seeing the bruise still marring her pale skin, a laugh nearly escaped me.
So this is what they meant by pairing off applicants who already harbor grudges, so that neither would hesitate to swing their weapon?
The moment the nameless lady saw my face, her lips hardened, and the hand gripping her weapon tightened.
A longsword, is it?
"Judging by her grip on that blade, she cannot have trained more than a year or two."
"You can tell that just by looking?"
"I can. Given time and experience, so too shall you."
On matters like these, Halbaemong could not possibly be wrong—which meant that lady must be someone who never slacked in her sword training.
And yet her movements during yesterday's fistfight had seemed awfully amateurish.
Maybe wielding a sword changes something.
Even under the blaze of the lady's glare, I remained perfectly calm. Compared to the orc that had tried to kill me for the sake of its own survival, her glare was a candle beside the sun. How was I supposed to be frightened by that?
She clearly hadn't gotten over what happened to her yesterday, so a little provocation would send her toppling right over.
There is no opponent easier to play with than one who has lost their reason.
"You two. To the center of the ring, please."
An examiner standing at the middle of the sparring grounds called us forward.
Face to face at close range, the lady's eyes brimmed with strain.
I found it thoroughly delightful and answered with a knowing smile—whereupon the lady bit down on her lip so hard I could see blood welling from it.
"The rules are simple. Until one of the examiners intervenes, treat each other as enemies and fight. Any injuries sustained during this match will be treated by the academy's healers, so there is no need to worry."
The moment the examiner finished explaining and stepped back, the lady let loose a voice thick with bottled fury.
"The shameless bitch of House Arln. I never dreamed we would meet again like this."
"I didn't expect to see you again either. Who knew I'd run into someone as easy as you?"
"Same here. Handing me a weakling like this as a sparring partner—do the examiners have no eye for talent at all?"
"Easy? Me?"
"You got worked over like that yesterday and still haven't figured out your place? Even your intelligence takes after a dog. How pitiful.♡"
Perhaps my laughter snapped the last thread of her reason.
The lady swung her longsword wildly, without thought or form.
That emotional, dead-straight attack was hopelessly telegraphed compared to what the knights of House Arln had thrown at me. I didn't even need to hear what the Iron Wall skill had to say—an attack of that caliber I could parry on raw proficiency alone.
The lady's wild swing smashed into my shield and glanced off.
Watching her stagger, thrown off balance by her own force, I flashed her a show-off grin.
"Weak."
"Weak?♡ That's it? Come on, do better than that."