Deadly Brackets and Exam Pressure

The day after the festival.

It was a weekday, but Zien and the rest of his party members gathered in the clubroom instead of attending classes.

With Amy Rose's official addition, the team now had four members.

The reason for the gathering was a 5th-rank gate, but they had to deal with the exams first.

Three written subjects and a large-scale practical exam called the Conquest Battle. In particular, the Conquest Battle—conducted in teams—was closely tied to their year rankings.

"You all know how important this exam is, right?"

So Zien emphasized the word while looking at Chris.

Chris, who couldn't even meet his eyes and was sweating bullets, was the only one in Zien's party without an original number spot.

"O-of course! I know it well!"

"Like I said, we need to stockpile as many SP points as possible before we hit second year."

No sooner had Zien finished speaking than Amy flashed a triumphant smile at Chris.

"I've been steadily saving mine!"

"For an original number holder, not even scraping 500 points is the real shame."

Isabel chimed in mockingly.

But Chris, who wasn't an original number holder, hadn't even reached 300.

"Hey, why's everyone picking on me?〜 Didn't you see how much I've improved at the tournament?"

"Hmm, you were probably the only one who lost, right?"

Amy seemed to have taken a liking to teasing Chris. Zien, watching them, pulled out the bracket sheet.

"Still, you're lucky, Chris."

"Huh? How so?"

"Your bracket luck is good. Ace the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠practical, and you could snag an original number spot."

"Wait, really?"

Chris checked the bracket in confusion, then let out a hollow laugh, at a loss for words.

His opposing team was the group of death, stacked with year ranks 3, 5, and 8.

"What the hell is this bracket? Is this even random? How am I supposed to win?!"

Amy shook her head at the despairing Chris.

"Quit whining. It's still better than being up against the party leader, right?"

Whether practical or written, Amy's top scores across the board left her worry-free.

"True, forfeiting beats facing Zien anyway."

Though her cocky attitude grated, Chris agreed with Amy. Even if it meant clashing with every other original number holder, no one wanted to be Zien's enemy. And it wasn't just Chris—every student knew of Zien's feats at the tournament.

Thanks to the broadcast, Zien's fame had spread not just among first-years and third-years, but even beyond the academy.

"Still kinda curious, though. Who are those poor bastards?"

Chris checked the bracket again.

Leon Sigma.

A man with striking platinum blond hair and mysterious green eyes. He was the shining original number holder at year rank 1, bearing the moniker Sun Sword.

'I thought there'd be no dangerous opponents in first year...'

Leon rested his chin on his hand, staring gravely at the bracket.

Perfection in looks and skill—troubles didn't suit him.

'The team's solid.'

This practical exam was the Conquest Battle.

In 10v10 matches, Leon liked how his team's magic tools were balanced across roles. The problem was the opposing team.

Zien Russell.

His overwhelming swordsmanship at the tournament. As a fellow swordsman, all Leon could mutter was "of all people."

"......Hmmm."

"Trouble, huh?"

Sitting in the same pose in front of him was Rita. She looked off, probably due to the bracket.

"Why do I have to face that guy twice as enemies? Argh! And that cocky bitch Aria got carried last exam too!"

Rita gritted her teeth at the thought of Aria, still fuming.

"She literally fell asleep and died, yet her rank went up? Ugh, we're screwed again."

"There has to be a way to win. It's not a straight 1v1 like the tournament."

Though he said that, Leon had no sharp ideas. The rules were too straightforward for tactics to create variables.

Each team picks one King.

The King can't be eliminated ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠by the enemy team. The other nine members protect them.

Usually, someone with a support-type magic tool becomes King. They're given a crown, and victory comes from stealing the opponent's.

So Leon figured he wouldn't need to fight Zien.

"No matter how strong he is, it's just an exam. Snag the crown, and it's over."

Frick, listening nearby, nodded.

"Yeah. No need to fight if we don't have to."

Leon was rank 1, so Rita opened up.

"Got it. What do I need to do?"

The day of the written exams.

As soon as Zien entered the classroom, Class 3 erupted in commotion.

"He's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here!"

"Great job at the tournament, Zien!"

"Not recruiting more party members?"

The famous face from the broadcast that led Arcana to victory—students fixated on Zien, whether with admiration or resentment.

"Wish you'd show up in class more."

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Got time? Wanna apply for an off-campus activity together? It'll be easy—my relative's a guild master and your fan."

Over half the class swarmed him, the noise swelling.

Then a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

"Hold on, hold on〜 Can everyone make way?"

It was Aria.

Lake stood beside her. She dragged a chair next to Zien's desk.

Thud.

Unlike her rough seating, Aria gazed softly at Zien.

"How's your condition?"

"Yeah, Zien. You're the ace of our Clever Cat Group! Your state matters to us."

Out of 162, Lake ranked 51st—a third of the pack. Stung by his drop, he had no choice but to trust Zien. The excessive attention today made Zien smile as he replied.

"Not bad."

"Hehe, no stiff shoulders or anything? If you're tired, I can draw a massager or foot bath with my magic tool?"

As Aria rubbed her hands with eager eyes, Lake crossed his arms and nodded.

"Your half-baked magic tools come in handy sometimes. Zien's waiting. Hurry up."

"Wait a sec..."

Before Zien could stop her, Aria started drawing a massager with a serious face.

"Hey〜 don't bail. Three minutes tops."

Aria manifested a massage chair using mana. In the end, Zien was led by Lake to sit in it instead of his desk chair.

"This..."

Zien trailed off.

Aria's mana massage chair felt worlds apart from mass-produced ones. It sucked in his fatigue like a sponge, soft and with gentle vibrations melting away exhaustion.

"......Feels good."

"And that's not all! Pair it with this foot bath!"

As Aria reached for Zien's shoes, thankfully Professor Eastro—the history instructor—entered.

'......First time on exam day things get this chaotic.'

Of course, in Eastro's career, Zien was the first student to take a test in a massage ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chair.

'Heh, is that chair winner's treatment now? The principal would totally allow it.'

Tired Eastro passed out the exam papers without comment.

History covered the early days of gate conquests.

It was the most neglected subject.

[Why study history when Sabers are busy training?]

Many thought so, but high-rank gates changed that.

In 5th- and 6th-rank gates and above, one piece of intel could save a party.

So Sabers compiled and preserved gate intel.

This naturally advanced the world.

Modern tech.

Martial arts from Murim.

Mana cultivation from Zone 3.

Zones' knowledge was reestablished.

As history grew vital, its difficulty soared beyond imagination.

'All subjective questions on Zone 1.'

Zien picked up his pen.

Answer to 1: Crimson Blood

A hunter known only by moniker, with 7 traits. He grew stronger with more foes, using blood as medium.

'A full-fledged 7th-rank hunter.'

Personal differences aside, 7th-rank Sabers and hunters were comparable. Only five 7th-ranks in Zone 1 history—true powerhouses. Zien moved on.

'2 is easy.'

This was free points.

If Sabers needed mana and stigmata, hunters needed magic power and traits. Like Sabers gaining magic arts via growth, hunters awakened more traits.

'3...'

Zien wrote answers fluidly without pause. He hadn't studied written subjects, but no issue.

'Even after 100 years, history hasn't changed much.'

With past-life memories, it was all familiar.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Jerome's acting exam took place in the hologram room. Jerome set the zone and role, hit a button, and projectors overlaid vivid holograms on participants and backgrounds.

"Next up."

"Hello, Professor!"

Jerome's sour face softened at Amy's bubbly greeting.

Her broadcast experience made her acting top-tier. She nailed any role.

Amy was one of Jerome's favored students.

"Good. You always do well, Amy. Just do your usual."

"Yes, sir!"

"Alright, setting background to Zone 4, role as escort knight?"

Jerome threw a tough role and scenario, but Amy handled it perfectly. Her skills could handle a real gate.

"Perfect! Next."

A student stepped forward. Jerome's face hardened instantly, but he hid it with a kind smile.

"Name?"

The student he'd been waiting for.

Jerome knew but asked anyway.

"Zien Russell."

"I see."

Jerome smirked inwardly.

Zien stared back blankly.

"Your acting score last exam was quite low. Same again, and you're at risk of failing the year, right?"

"Yes."

Zien's curt reply.

'Got something up your sleeve? Time to flatten that nose.'

Jerome's eyes narrowed.

"Your zone and role will be......"

As he announced the role, Jerome's smirk widened.