The Shocking Selection Trials
The day before the selection trials.
Xiel was lost in serious contemplation.
"Hmm."
Taking things any further seemed like a reckless choice. While he had not sensed anything suspicious yet, an abundance of caution was always the best policy.
To someone out there, my actions might appear strange.
A cover identity, coupled with years as an assassin. With both overlapping and his mission gone, Xiel still lacked a true anchor. The absence of his brainwashing played a major role in this. Conditioning determined an assassin's direction and behavioral patterns. Now that it had vanished and left him free, he had to judge and decide everything on his own.
"I should do this, then."
Scrape.
Xiel rose from his seat. He made a firm resolve: from now on, he would limit himself to five bowls of food per meal.
I'm still hungry, but I must endure.
He had a mere one hundred cel left in his pocket. Was his hunger because he had no money, or because the food was simply that delicious? He could easily devour twenty bowls, but Xiel decided to hold back.
I'm still a long way from becoming a professor.
He could not rely on this cover identity forever. Only when he established a proper standing here and people ceased questioning his presence would he truly be safe. There was another reason as well. Stuffing oneself to capacity dulled the nerves and blurred the senses. Even back in the syndicate, he had always kept his stomach precisely half full—though since they had only fed him tasteless nutrient blocks, there had never been a chance to feel full in the first place.
It was not yet time to lower his guard.
"He's eating a ton again today. Five bowls?"
"The portions in the faculty cafeteria are huge, aren't they? And he polished off five of them?"
"Isn't that the new elective instructor in the Sword School?"
"I heard rumors, but wow, he really is absurdly handsome."
"Tsk. Why can't talent like that come to the Arcane School? We'd spoil him rotten."
Whispers buzzed around Xiel. Naturally, every word reached his ears, but he paid them no mind. There was something else that required his attention.
The moment he pushed open the cafeteria door, a figure popped her head out from the side.
"Student Celia Rihardt."
"You eat an awful lot, Instructor. And you take your time, too. It was exhausting waiting for you."
It was Celia Rihardt again. He had already noticed her tailing him earlier, but he had not expected her to wait outside instead of entering.
Stalking must be in fashion.
The trends among students were truly beyond comprehension.
"What is your reason today?"
"Anyone listening would think I follow you around every single day."
"You trailed me twice more after we left the faculty cafeteria. Counting this encounter, that makes four."
"...H-how did you know?"
Caught off guard, Celia flustered. Xiel gave a flat reply.
"You have a distinct scent."
"M-my scent?"
Celia's ears flushed bright red.
What on earth is that supposed to mean?!
"It is a complex mixture of tree bark, grass, jasmine, and honey."
"Ah!"
Celia's eyes widened in an entirely different kind of shock.
"That's... the perfume I wear."
It was Meadow of Arna, a gift from the greatest perfumer in the Valdrain Empire. His description matched the perfumer's explanation to the letter.
How does he know that? Is he acquainted with the master perfumer?
According to the artisan, it was the only bottle of its kind in the entire world. To pinpoint its exact aromatic components so effortlessly...
"So, for what purpose did you seek me out?"
"...Uh, well."
Thoroughly thrown off, Celia stumbled, completely unable to seize control of the conversation. She had never been like this in front of anyone else. Even when speaking with full professors, she had always held the reins and steered the dialogue as she pleased. Yet in front of Xiel, her grip inevitably shattered over the most bizarre, unexpected remarks.
To think she would lose her footing over perfume, of all things.
And I was determined to make my proposal today!
Celia had learned social conduct directly from her father: if you fail to seize the initiative, do not show impatience; bide your time and watch for the next opening. It seemed the offer to make him her escort knight would have to wait.
"No, it's nothing important! I just wanted to see you, Instructor! The selection trials are tomorrow, so I was getting nervous!"
Even she knew it was a pitiful excuse.
"Wanted to see me... Understood."
Xiel muttered something that sounded peculiarly loaded.
"If you have no further business, you may take your leave, Student Celia Rihardt."
"Yes, sir..."
Swallowing her disappointment, Celia turned away.
Next time, definitely!
The more she saw him, the more she coveted his talents. An escort knight. By their second year at the earliest, or their third at the latest, most young ladies of high noble birth walked the academy grounds accompanied by a personal knight. It was the prevailing trend. The skill and appearance of an escort knight were effectively a reflection of one's own standing.
He's handsome, exceptionally skilled, and a man of few words. How much better could it get?
From the moment she had first laid eyes on Xiel, Celia had placed him on her candidate list. Now, he was her undisputed top choice. While today was a missed opportunity, she would look for the next chance. In fact, the timing was ideal. If she displayed the true essence of House Rihardt's swordsmanship in the selection trials and distinguished herself in the Exchange Event...
The instructor will have to give it some serious thought!
Meanwhile...
"So... a student is tailing you, you say?"
"Yes. She stalked me and claimed she wanted to see me."
"Pardon?"
"It seems following people is currently in fashion."
"...In fashion?"
Xiel was posing this very question to Tyron, the teaching assistant he had run into by chance.
What kind of bizarre trend is that?
It had been three years since Tyron graduated from the undergraduate program, so even he was not entirely certain.
"Well... even if she's following you, is that really a problem?"
"Is it not?"
"Instructor... pardon me for saying so, but aren't you the type students would naturally take a liking to?"
Tyron was referring to his face. However, Xiel interpreted the words as confirmation that he was performing adequately as an educator.
"High praise. Thank you."
"I was merely stating an objective fact, but..."
Tailing. When you got right down to it, wasn't it just students hanging around him? He was exceptionally handsome, and considering how respectfully Deleve Kundel had treated him the other day...
"It's not very common, but either way, it means you're doing well. So, which student was following you?"
Tyron asked offhandedly, only to freeze in sheer horror at the response.
"What? Who did you say?!"
"Student Celia Rihardt."
"Uh... she said she wanted to see you... and followed you...?"
"Yes."
Tyron had merely bumped into Xiel while rushing toward the department office to prepare for the selection trials. Now, all thoughts of the office vanished, utterly eclipsed by sheer panic.
I just heard something I was never supposed to hear!
First Kundel, and now Rihardt?! On top of that, the famous Celia Rihardt was following Instructor Xiel around, claiming she wanted to see him? He had stumbled upon an earth-shattering secret.
Just what kind of person is he?
Kundel and Rihardt. An instructor who had the scions of the Empire's two greatest pillars eating out of the palm of his hand! And he was not even a professor, but a mere elective lecturer!
"I could not fathom the meaning behind it, which is why I asked."
Tyron had far too much of his life ahead of him. His survival instincts flared with alarm. This was not just any family—it was House Rihardt! The moment he spoke a word of this or acted like he knew anything...
Careful. I'm still a long way from securing a professorship.
A family of Rihardt's stature could wipe out a lowly Sword School teaching assistant without leaving a trace, or whisper a single word to a professor and turn all his years of blood, sweat, and tears to ash.
"U-um, Instructor Xiel. I heard nothing. Not a single thing."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You need to be careful as well, Instructor! If you go around saying such things carelessly, you'll end up in serious trouble! I know you have... well, whatever backing you possess, but still! You must exercise caution! In this empire, the names Kundel and Rihardt carry terrifying weight!"
Even amid his terror, Tyron worried for Xiel's safety. Xiel, for his part, found the reaction entirely baffling.
"Regardless, I must take my leave! I swear I heard absolutely nothing!"
Tyron practically sprinted away as if fleeing for his life. Watching the assistant's receding back, Xiel tilted his head.
"Is it a trend that brings ruin if spoken of to others?"
The morning of the selection trials arrived.
One by one, the first-year students filed into the gymnasium. Out of a total cohort of one hundred, eighty students had gathered to participate. The remaining twenty had either withdrawn due to personal circumstances or surrendered beforehand.
"I heard nearly ninety took part last year."
"Well, two spots are basically locked down by Rihardt and Kundel this year, aren't they?"
"Sophen is no joke either. Maris Sophen is supposed to be terrifying."
The students shared a single fixation: who would be chosen as a member for the Exchange Event? It was a beacon of hope. What if, by some miracle, they made the cut? Not only would they earn the reverence of their peers and the keen attention of the faculty, but their standing among external factions would skyrocket overnight. The Sword School Exchange Event was a momentous occasion attended by numerous prominent figures. Simply earning a spot on the roster yielded astronomical benefits.
"Hey, look over there. Why are those guys all clustered together?"
"Oh, right. Aren't they the ones taking that elective class?"
"You mean that instructor named Xiel?"
Amid the crowd, the forty students enrolled in Xiel's course had grouped together, warming up in unison. Coincidentally, this gymnasium was the very hall where they received their instruction. Having arrived at a familiar venue, they naturally began their preparatory stretches, maintaining the exact formation they used during lectures.
"Didn't people say their classes are absurdly brutal? Something about running long distances with sandbags strapped to them?"
"They train without using mana, too."
"Did you hear? Apparently in their self-defense sessions, all they do is get beaten to a pulp."
"That elective instructor must be insane. Why hasn't he been fired? Haven't Kundel and Rihardt lodged a protest yet?"
Ignorant of the reality, the other forty students merely clicked their tongues. The rumors circulating outside were baffling: an utterly bizarre instructor, followed blindly by an equally bizarre group of students. Meanwhile, a few students who were well-versed in campus gossip chimed in with their own theories.
"I heard Instructor Xiel has backing from a terrifyingly influential faction..."
The claim was refuted almost instantly.
"Quit talking nonsense. If he had that kind of backing, why would he be working here as an elective lecturer instead of a full professor?"
"He always spouts rubbish like that. Hey, shut your mouth. Just be quiet."
Just then, the gymnasium doors swung open. Two professors and a teaching assistant strode inside, flanked by two additional assistants. Tyron was responsible for presiding over the trial, while the other two were tasked with grading.
"It's the department head."
"He actually came?"
Department Head Professor Verhal. The youngest faculty member, Professor Elcanto. Three teaching assistants. And joining them—
"Is that the elective instructor?"
"He's insanely good-looking..."
"This is my first time seeing him in person. Wow..."
The man at the center of the rumors, Instructor Xiel Steelheart, stepped into the hall. Shortly after, technicians wheeled several massive mechanical devices into the gymnasium.
"What are those?"
"Are they using those for the trial?"
The technicians skillfully installed the apparatuses throughout the hall before departing.
"Ahem, cough."
Once preparations were complete, Tyron stepped forward and introduced the professors.
"Welcome, freshmen, to today's Exchange Event selection trials. We are honored to have Department Head Verhal and Professor Elcanto gracing us with their presence. Department Head, would you please share a few words?"
"Ah, yes. Of course. Welcome, freshmen, to today's trials. Many of you are likely feeling immense tension, but in times like these, it is paramount to approach your trials with a calm, composed mind..."
A tedious stretch of time rolled by.
"...With that, I trust you will all undertake today's trial with a fair and steadfast spirit."
Concluding his speech, Professor Verhal met the eyes of Deleve and Celia in turn. They were the very reason he had come today. Tyron proceeded to explain the rules of the selection match.
"As previously announced, any act of interfering with others, the use of magical tools, or any form of cheating will result in immediate disqualification. Disciplinary measures will be determined based on the severity of the infraction, which may extend up to formal expulsion. Please keep this firmly in mind."
The first phase of the selection trials was a physical endurance test.
"The test will be conducted in three distinct parts. The scores from each event will be summed and averaged, and those average scores will determine who passes the primary phase. The total number of advancing candidates is forty."
There were currently eighty students present. In other words, exactly half of them would be eliminated right here. Incidentally, none of the students knew the specific details of the endurance test in advance.
The first event was unveiled on the spot.
"The first event is the Barrier Resistance Run."
The moment the first trial was announced...
Wait?
A peculiar smile appeared on the faces of several students. It was an expression overflowing with unmistakable confidence. Upon Tyron's signal, a sharp metallic click echoed through the room, and the devices activated in unison.
Vwoooooom!
"Ugh!"
"Hnk!"
The moment the machinery kicked into gear, an overwhelming pressure bore down upon the students. Their chests grew painfully tight, accompanied by the distinct sensation of an invisible force dragging them toward the floor!
Click.
As the devices powered down, the students exhaled the breath they had been desperately holding.
"To prevent the selection trials from dragging on indefinitely, we have deployed a specialized mana barrier that increases gravity while simulating the atmospheric conditions of high-altitude mountainous terrain."
"What?!"
Dismayed gasps erupted from all corners of the hall.
"As you are well aware, a conventional endurance test would take far too long to complete. This mechanism was introduced out of necessity, so we ask for your understanding."
It sounded far more like an absolute decree than a polite request. Yet the logic was sound. Every Sword School student knew how to channel mana and possessed a formidable baseline of physical fitness. Measuring their stamina through brute-force running alone would consume far too much time, so the faculty had prioritized efficiency.
It also serves as a strong filter.
Testing how well students adapted to sudden environmental shifts was another deliberate objective. To the vast majority of the students, this announcement hit like a sudden thunderclap on a clear day. Or, more precisely...
It was a catastrophe for exactly half of them.
"Hmm?"
Sitting casually in his seat, Department Head Verhal had initially planned to observe Deleve and Celia just long enough to ensure their scores comfortably crossed the passing threshold before heading over to watch the second-year selection trials. But then, an odd scene caught his attention. It was the exact same discrepancy Tyron had noticed.
Half of them look completely despondent... while the other half are practically brimming with fighting spirit?
It was a stark, perfect divide. One half of the hall looked as though the world had ended, groaning in sheer despair. Meanwhile, the students clustered on the opposite side appeared entirely unfazed—if anything, they looked eager.
I'd understand if it were only the naturally gifted ones, but... why do those other students look so strangely thrilled?
"Professor Elcanto."
"Yes, Department Head?"
"Those students over there. The ones gathered on the left."
There was an invisible, distinct boundary dividing the room, and precisely forty students stood to the left of it.
"Ah, yes. The students on the left are the ones enrolled in Instructor Xiel Steelheart's elective course."
Verhal's hips, which had been inching off his chair in restless boredom, firmly snapped back down onto the cushion.
"Oho."
For the first time that day, his interest was truly piqued.