Top Marks and a Toast
With every performance assessment complete—morning teams and afternoon teams alike—all of Class A assembled in the Basic Dark Magic lecture hall.
"Thank you all for your hard work today."
Jane said.
"Setting aside the results and scores, as your supervising professor I'm satisfied that every single member of Class A completed their live assessment without a single accident."
"Thank you, Professor!"
The students, finally freed from the crushing pressure, shouted with renewed energy.
"That said, at Kizen, results matter most of all."
"……"
Just as the emotional mood was peaking, Jane went and dumped cold water over it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. By now everyone was used to it, though, and they merely let out small, knowing chuckles as they waited for what came next.
"I'll begin with Group 1. Group 1, come forward."
Simon sat in his seat and listened calmly to the other groups' evaluations. It was pure Jane, he thought—her analysis of each group's strengths and weaknesses was unsettlingly precise, and she even offered concrete suggestions for improvement. Her opinions were so logical and analytical that even people who knew nothing about a given group found themselves nodding along without realizing it.
And then—
"Student Carel Oxara. Student Yona Kasumi."
"Yes, Professor!"
"Shake hands."
……A handshake? Out of nowhere?
As the two blinked at each other in confusion, the teaching assistant beside them shot them a meaningful look. They did as they were told.
"You didn't damage your teamwork the way amateurs do, but if something is bothering either of you, it's best to clear the air quickly."
"……!"
"Next group, come forward."
Jane had seen straight through to the students' relationships and their psychology. It was almost supernatural—calling her uncanny didn't feel like enough.
One thing that genuinely surprised Simon, though, was how many groups had actually managed to bring down their Cyclops. In the initial simulation, just over forty percent of the groups had succeeded—but in the live assessment, a staggering thirteen out of sixteen groups hunted their monster down.
Even accounting for the extra practice time, the students had proven remarkably formidable in the field. It was a fresh reminder of just how deep the reserves of Kizen's student body ran.
And with so many successful hunts, the question was no longer whether a group had caught its Cyclops—it was how high a score they'd managed to earn.
"Group 3's final grade is an A+. Well done."
And the group led by Hector Moore had been overwhelming. Cheers, applause, and envious glances erupted from every corner of the hall.
"There was precious little to criticize in Group 3's performance."
The outstanding combat power and leadership of their field agent, Hector. Clearly defined roles and seamless teamwork among the members. And the single longest hunting time of any squad. They'd even crossed the finish line with their Barrier Gauge above ninety percent—a picture of stability.
It would be no exaggeration to call them the group that represented Class A.
"Every one of you shows tremendous promise for the future. Excellent work."
"Thank you!"
Beyond them, the team most often mentioned as a powerhouse was Cindy Vivace's Group 5.
Their hunting time rivaled Group 3's, but in the end, it was the fact that they were a one-woman Cindy Vivace show that held them back. Heavy deductions came off their teamwork and stability scores.
And then—
"Group 7, come forward."
At last, the infamous Group 7 was called before Jane.
Group 3 had earned a high score, certainly—but it was Simon's Group 7 that had generated the biggest buzz by far. Their overwhelming display of power had driven the entire class into a frenzy.
"Group 7 was……"
She lifted her grading sheet with a rustle of paper. The room fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"—abysmal."
Thud!
Simon felt his heart lurch. Meilyn squeezed her eyes shut, and Camibarez's lips trembled.
"Time elapsed: thirteen minutes and fifty-eight seconds. The field agent's Barrier Gauge was down to a single-digit seven percent. And not one moment of your performance matched the tactics you planned in advance—nothing but unplanned, improvised chaos."
She lowered the paperwork and fixed Group 7 with a blank stare.
"Anything you'd like to say for yourselves?"
"……"
When a person starts citing exact figures, even ten mouths wouldn't have been enough to mount a defense.
The four of them sat in silence, and Jane spoke again.
"Group 7's evaluation score is a D."
Any group that scored below that—an F—had failed to hunt its Cyclops at all. In other words, among the groups that had actually taken down their monster, Group 7 had posted the lowest score in the class.
Just as the dejected four turned to trudge back to their seats—
"That said."
The teaching assistant was handing Jane a fresh stack of documents. She laid them on top of her grading sheet and spoke.
"That assessment was made without this information taken into account, I see."
"……?"
The members of Group 7 froze in place, utterly bewildered.
"When the corpse of the Cyclops hunted by Group 7 was examined, traces were found of curses and drugs that had produced abnormal side effects at the time of its capture."
Admittedly, the autopsy results had also contained information that was seriously suspicious—but that portion had been designated a Class 2 Kizen secret. This much was all the students could be told.
"The Cyclops displayed extreme aggression, and the moment its curse broke, it went berserk and its physical abilities were temporarily and drastically enhanced. The upper administration has determined that the difficulty of your trial was clearly on another level compared to the Cyclops hunted by the other groups."
The upper administration of Kizen? Murmurs rippled through the lecture hall.
Jane brandished the report—stamped with the official seal of Kizen headquarters—before the students and continued.
"After a comprehensive evaluation of this Cyclops's aggression, raw strength, and curse resistance, Group 7 will be rescored on the premise that you hunted a monster at the level of the Cyclops's superior variant: a Red Cyclops. It only seems—"
Jane's gaze shifted toward Hector.
"—fair, after all."
"……"
Hector's face hardened to stone.
If it was a judgment handed down by Kizen's upper administration, no student had grounds to contest it. Of course, it was also true that every single member of Class A had harbored the same suspicion about the Cyclops Simon had faced.
That only Group 7's Cyclops had been—that couldn't be—too strong.
"I will now announce the revised results."
Jane read down the page.
"Meilyn Villenne."
Meilyn answered with a start.
"Yes! Professor!"
"Your jet-black elemental magic, far exceeding the average of Kizen's first-years, played the single most critical role in protecting your field agents. Eighty points."
Ooooooh—!
Cries of astonishment burst out across the hall.
The current top score belonged to Hector, with ninety out of a hundred—so for Meilyn, who hadn't received the field agent's bonus points, an eighty was a very strong showing indeed.
Meilyn trembled with emotion, and Camibarez threw her arms around her in celebration.
"The injury you sustained from overtraining and a lapse in self-management was undeniably a serious mistake."
Jane's eyes went to Meilyn's leg, wrapped tight in bandages.
"But fighting through that injury was impressive."
Meilyn couldn't answer right away—her shoulders gave the faintest tremble. Of all the group's members, she was the one who had carried the most emotional weight these past days.
"Next, Rick Hayward."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Your high-caliber jet-black enchants, deployed exactly where they were needed most, served as the oil that kept Group 7's attack on the Cyclops running smoothly. Likewise, eighty points."
Another wave of gasps broke out. Rick threw both hands in the air and cheered.
"Camibarez Ursula."
"Ah—yes!"
"As a prospective student of Hemomancy, you fulfilled your role as Group 7's core damage dealer to the letter."
Jane smiled warmly.
"Even among necromancers working in the field, blood magic of that caliber is not an easy thing to see. Eighty-five points."
"Ah……!"
Washed over by a tide of emotion, Camibarez's eyes brimmed with tears.
"Cami!"
"Way to go!"
Meilyn and Rick piled into a hug with her, showering her with congratulations.
"And finally—Simon Polentia."
Silence fell over the lecture hall in an instant.
Hector, who had been watching Group 7's fortunes with mounting anxiety, went ashen. His hips slipped slightly off his chair.
"You fulfilled your duty as the field agent. Despite unexpected variables, you protected your teammates, evading the Cyclops's attacks directly to buy time. Your dramatic handling of your summons carved wounds into the monster's body, satisfying the precondition for the bloodletting, and your use of Bone Restoration was impressive as well. And in the end, you finally cut the Cyclops's throat."
Having read the grading sheet, she let out a small breath and spoke.
"……Flawless. A personal score of one hundred."
One hundred points!
An explosive cheer shook the lecture hall to its rafters.
Even the other Class A students couldn't deny Simon's performance. Group 7's showing had been that galvanizing—that inspiring to everyone watching.
And so Group 7's total evaluation score rose, leaping several rungs at once, to the highest possible grade: an A+. Shoulder to shoulder now with Group 3, the strongest group in Class A.
And then—
"A pity there's no score above an A+."
With those words from Jane, the final hammer fell: it was confirmed that the true best group in Class A was Group 7.
Hector squeezed his eyes shut and sank deep into the backrest of his chair.
"Hector……"
"Don't talk to me. Unless you want your mouth torn open."
The members of Group 3 could only shut their mouths and steal furtive glances at their leader's face.
"To the A+!"
"Cheers!"
Mugs of beer clinked together, and rowdy laughter burst forth. Against the backdrop of a darkening night sky, a bonfire crackled and glowed in front of a small cabin.
Simon, Rick, Meilyn, and Camibarez sat in a circle around it, and in front of the flames, skewers of meat sizzled invitingly, dripping fat as they roasted to perfection.
"Mmmhm—this assessment was basically a Rick carry, let's be honest!"
Rick, his face flushed red, chuckled smugly.
"Without me, you guys wouldn't have landed a single wound on that Cyclops! Am I right? You know it's true!"
"There he goes again."
Meilyn shot him a sidelong glare and chided him—but there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. This was nothing like her usual sharp edge.
"If even one of us had slacked off, we'd have lost, dummy. And honestly, by my count you contributed the least! All you did was sprinkle some enchant dust around!"
"Whoa! Unbelievable! Is this any way to treat the man who carried you?!"
"Ugh, get lost! You reek of booze!"
"Huh? Do I really? I've only had one sip."
Rick huffed into his palm and sniffed. Meilyn recoiled in disgust and shook her head vigorously.
Meanwhile, Camibarez was staring down at the beer mug clutched in both hands with an expression of utmost solemnity.
"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to."
Simon said with a smile.
"N-no, it's not that! It's just…… this is my first time drinking, so I'm a little nervous……"
"You've got this! Cami, you'll be fine!"
Rick waved his hand breezily.
"Kizen students can do anything they want, as long as they take responsibility for their own actions! Besides, we've got a 'guardian' here with us, don't we? This is a legal drinking party! A legal drinking party!"
Camibarez stared blankly at Rick in full swing, then cautiously turned to Simon.
"If I drink this…… will I end up like Rick?"
Simon finally couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing—pfft!
Across the fire, Meilyn was cackling like she was about to fall over. Rick's face crumpled into a wounded grimace.
"Cami, you little—"
Just as Rick was trying to salvage his dignity through a slurred retort, someone emerged from the cabin.
"Here, eat shome of thith too!"
None other than Hong Peng, the Magic Combat professor.
She set a pot down on the stand above the bonfire. Inside, a meat soup was bubbling away, steam curling into the night air.
"Whoaaaa!"
The mouthwatering aroma sent everyone scrambling to crowd around the pot. Hong Peng ladled out the soup herself, bowl by bowl, and handed it to her students.
"Thank you for the food!"
It was Hong Peng who had invited everyone to the cabin. Having heard the rumor that Simon had earned the top score this time, she'd thrown a celebration party of sorts and invited his group members along. The skewers roasting over the bonfire and the meat soup were all made from game she had hunted herself.
Simon took a sip of the soup.
'……It's—it's delicious!'
He'd never tasted anything like it. So good his jaw dropped. It was mild and natural, without a single added spice, yet somehow impossibly deep—almost miraculous how much flavor she'd coaxed out of it.
"Amazing!"
"Professor, you're the best!"
"Hehe! Eat up now!"
Hong Peng took a seat as well.
Drinking parties between students were next to impossible to pull off inside Kizen—but thanks to her providing the venue and volunteering to take responsibility as their guardian, they'd gotten to enjoy a night like this.
Rick quickly poured a mug of beer from the oak keg and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Rick."
"Wahaha! Who knew the day would come when I'd get an invite from a Kizen professor! I gotta say……!"
Rick shot Simon a sly, sideways look.
"Professor Hong Peng! You do play favorites with Simon a little, don't you……?"
Meilyn's head snapped up from her soup.
"Hey, Rick!"
"It's true, though."
Hong Peng said it with an easy, unbothered laugh. Everyone froze and turned to look at her.
"We're all just people here too. Having shome shudents you like and shome you don't—that's only natural, isn't it?"
"……Ahaha! Well, when you put it that way, guess so! Cheers!"
Rick hastily called for a toast.
Simon, oddly flustered, clinked mugs with a red face. Hong Peng giggled.
"I'm only teasing! I'm proud of and fond of every shingle one of my shudents!"
Even as she said it, she was affectionately ruffling Simon's hair.
Envious stares from Rick and Meilyn bored into Simon, and Camibarez, glancing back and forth between Simon and Hong Peng, quickly buried her face in her bowl.
"With the protection period lifted, things musht be tough for you students lately. But don't go thinking the Kizen professors do it because they dislike you. Jusht hang in there a little longer, all right?"
"Yes, ma'am! We will!"
Out here away from the academy, Hong Peng showed not a trace of a Kizen professor's authority. The way she treated them—boundlessly warm and easygoing—made her feel like the big sister from a friendly neighborhood.
Thanks to her, everyone slipped comfortably into the mood of the night in no time.
"Next week."
Amid the warmth of the fire and the buzz of conversation, Hong Peng stretched her legs out and spoke.
Rick quickly leaned in, cupping a hand to his ear in exaggerated attention.
"Yes, Professor! All ears!"
"Next week, all of you will finally be going out on your first 'mission.'"