The Entrance Ceremony and the Flying Principal

The final bosses of the game I'd transmigrated into were the six Outer Gods.

According to the setting, the Outer Gods were deities who each presided over a different dimension—and once their home dimension perished, they began coveting this one. The evidence of their interference was the Rifts.

The Outer Gods were gods beyond the boundary. To point a blade at one, you needed to become at least a Sword Master. And "at least" was doing a lot of work in that sentence.

But there was a single exception, and that exception was Evangeline.

That was the reason she was the protagonist.

Anyway, if the six Outer Gods were the final bosses of the game, the mid-bosses were the leadership of Elysium Academy: the Principal, the Vice Principal, and the Chairwoman.

Reformed or killed, sooner or later they would all have to be dealt with.

"Welcome, everyone. May the blessing of the gods be with you—"

The Vice Principal burst into hearty laughter as he traced the sign of the holy cross.

Brilliant light rained down in the wake of his hand. It gave you some idea of how potent his divine power was—it looked as though a miniature sun had risen over the stage.

The Vice Principal casually scattered divine power that would have been excessive even for a cardinal. There was only one reason that was possible.

He's eaten an Outer God Fragment.

An Outer God Fragment worked exactly like the bonus stats and effects you received at character creation.

For instance, if a guy with a B-rank Aura stat consumed enough fragments, it would climb to A.

It was a tremendous effect, but the price was cruel.

With every fragment consumed, the body and soul were surrendered to the Outer God and corrupted.

The corruption crept in slow as drizzle soaking through a coat, so the one consuming it could never sense it happening. By the time they noticed something wrong, they were already the Outer God's servant.

"Next, we will hear from the Chairwoman."

Every freshman's gaze snapped forward at once.

This was the Chairwoman, hailed as the greatest archmage alive. Eyes sparkled everywhere.

That expectation did not last long.

"A-A cat?"

Because what mounted the podium was a cat wearing an enormous pointed hat.

Startled by the cat that had appeared out of nowhere, the freshmen panicked. The cat, for its part, settled down in its seat without a care and began grooming its tail.

"The Principal will now enter. All, attention."

The master of ceremonies announced it curtly.

The startled freshmen snapped to attention.

This time, the professors rose from their seats as well—and so did the Vice Principal. The cat. No, the Chairwoman, yawned long and luxuriously.

Thud. Thud. Despite the hundreds filling the auditorium, one man's heavy footsteps rang out clear and distinct.

Soon a man ascended the stage.

He looked exactly like what you'd get if a lion became a human. His eyes were broad and piercing, his shoulders stretched wide, his arms as thick as thighs.

His presence alone pressed down on the hundreds in the hall like it was nothing.

The Principal, Rivenhardt.

Rivenhardt was the Imperial Second Sword.

The second sword of the Empire. In other words, only one person in the entire Empire was stronger than Rivenhardt.

Rivenhardt was a man who understood the weight of power. He was stronger than anyone, and as strong as he was, he was honorable.

If you stopped a passing knight and asked, "Who is the most honorable man in the Empire?"—a hundred out of a hundred would say Rivenhardt.

In truth, Rivenhardt had refused the Emperor's offer to hand him the world and instead taken the seat of Principal at Elysium Academy.

That was why Rivenhardt was the most honorable knight alive. And that was also why he was destined to fall lower than any man alive.

He's terrifyingly strong.

A low whistle escaped me as I studied Rivenhardt.

I couldn't even gauge the Chairwoman or the Vice Principal, but with the Principal, I didn't dare form an estimate at all. He was probably stronger than a Commander-General.

At the same time, a question nagged at me.

Why would someone that strong bother with Outer God Fragments?

Why would a man who was the Imperial Second Sword consume fragments and walk the road to a predetermined doom?

All I knew was that Hanswel was connected to the Principal's rampage—I didn't know the details.

Hanswel, huh.

Hanswel was glaring at the Principal, chewing on his lip. Unmistakable fury and hatred seeped out of him, too raw to hide.

His circumstances must have been complicated.

"Raise your cups."

At that moment, the Principal lifted his cup. It was a silver chalice engraved with the crest of Elysium Academy.

"Nyaang."

The Chairwoman flicked her front paw. Fragrant liquor burst out from every direction and drifted through the air like flowing water.

In moments, the liquor filled every cup in the auditorium to the brim. A flawless performance—not a single drop wasted.

I'd seen this in the game too, but seeing it in person, it was even more impressive.

The Principal drained his cup first. Following his lead, the Chairwoman and the Vice Principal emptied theirs, and belatedly the students and professors did the same.

Up to that point, everything was fine. The problem was what came next.

Ta-ra-ran— suddenly, from somewhere, upbeat music began to play. And then the students and professors sprang to their feet, paired off, and started dancing.

It was an utterly absurd development, like something out of an Indian movie—but not a single soul questioned it. On the contrary, they giggled and enjoyed themselves as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Damn romance-fantasy world.

These people threw banquets and partied at the drop of a hat.

It was a structure practically designed to breed chaos.

I swallowed my curses and kept a careful eye on Evangeline.

Thankfully, she was playing around with Andy.

That was the whole reason I'd paired them up.

Fortunately, dance time ended quickly.

"Next, we will have the freshman pledge. Freshman representatives, please come forward."

There were two freshman representatives. One was, naturally, the Crown Prince.

The other was a woman with sleek, straight black hair.

The Grand Duke's daughter, Agriche.

Agriche was Evangeline's image in perfect reverse. Not a trace of a smile touched her face, and her hair flowed glossy black, as if the color had been drained from it. She was the picture of the aristocratic ice queen.

The villainess—one of the hoariest clichés of the romance-fantasy genre.

Agriche tormented Evangeline with vicious persistence.

Because Evangeline kept stealing the Crown Prince's attention.

The way to stop Agriche was simple.

All I had to do was keep Evangeline from drawing the Crown Prince's interest.

At that moment, Agriche and the Crown Prince began reading the pledge in unison.

"We who stand before the gate of learning swear that we shall permit no falsehood upon the path that pursues truth. We shall not wield the power of knowledge in arrogance, nor take learning up as a weapon to point its blade carelessly at others—"

The content was mind-numbingly dull, but with the two of them looking that spectacular, the freshmen's eyes turned fierce with focus.

This was the Crown Prince and the Grand Duke's daughter, after all.

Of course they couldn't look away.

Except for one guy who wasn't.

"Haaahm—"

Unsurprisingly, it was Evangeline.

The Crown Prince's gaze swung toward her.

The game's content rose to the surface of my memory unbidden.

The Crown Prince is a dud too.

The Crown Prince was a prize among duds—the kind where if things went wrong, you got stuck with a lunatic on top of everything else. A male lead who absolutely had to be avoided.

And the place where the Crown Prince and Evangeline became properly entangled was the entrance ceremony.

When a Republic terror attack targeting the Crown Prince swept Evangeline up in it, the two of them became truly bound together.

It absolutely had to be stopped. That was why I'd moved the mana stone bomb.

Just then, someone jabbed me in the side from next to me. It was Milo, his face clouded with unease.

"That thing you said yesterday, in the underground warehouse. That was a joke, right?"

"What?"

"About the Republic bastards hiding a mana stone bomb in the underground warehouse."

"Oh. Surprising memory you've got there."

"Course I do. My head's solid as a rock."

Milo grinned and thumped his own skull with his fist. Thud, thud—it sounded like hammering stone.

"That was a joke, right? Obviously a joke?"

"It wasn't a joke."

"What?"

"There were six Republic operatives. One of them could have hidden something else."

Milo's face went ghost-white.

"Ya damn—then shouldn't we be evacuating right now?!"

"No need to worry. You already took care of it."

"Me? When?"

"Don't you remember the cabinet?"

"The cabinet—?"

Milo cocked his head dumbly for a moment, then his mouth fell wide open.

"Don't tell me that hunk of junk I tossed out was—. You're kidding. Not funny. Really, really not funny."

"I thought it was funny."

"You absolute maniac—"

I snickered at Milo as he cursed up a storm.

"Finally, we will hear the Principal's address."

The Principal mounted the stage once more. He smiled warmly and began to speak.

"First, congratulations on your admission to Elysium Academy. I was once a student here myself, and watching you all, the feelings of those days come blooming back. It makes me feel young again."

At the Principal's jest, small laughter rippled through the hall.

Time to make my move—

I quietly slipped backward.

It was possible because every eye in the room was glued to the Principal, and even that hawk-eyed Hanswel was absorbed in him.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?"

Milo, growing anxious, cast nervous glances at Hanswel as he hurried after me.

Behind us, the Principal's voice carried on.

"Ah, one thing to keep in mind. The Rifts."

At the low, resonant warning, the freshmen tensed and concentrated.

"If you see something unreal, something shrouded in black and white, do not approach it under any circumstances—run. When a Rift opens, if you're slow, the person closest to it gets dragged in. Always flee and report it to the guard brigade immediately. Rifts are things even professors struggle to survive once inside, so never, ever go in out of curiosity."

Just as the Principal warned, the Rifts were extremely dangerous.

The instant one opened, the person nearest to it was invariably dragged inside. That was the rule of the Rift.

It was why the Elite Guard had to charge straight in the moment a Rift appeared.

Where is it?

I swept my gaze ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠across the hall.

The mana stone bomb had been planted beneath the floor. The detonation trigger would be in the hands of one of the other Republic operatives.

"Eh? What brings you here?"

At that moment, Milo spoke up at the sight of someone. I turned to look—and there stood a tall woman.

A razor-straight bob, eyes brimming with violence, a faint whiff of liquor, an appearance so striking your eyes couldn't help but gravitate to her even though her neck was wrapped up tight—

The leader of Unit 42, Evelyn.

Evelyn, who had shown herself nowhere until now, appeared of all times at this exact moment. A truly uncanny piece of timing.

"Well, if this drags on any longer, someone's going to get an earful. Let's wrap up the entrance ceremony here."

The Principal drew his sword. A silver-white longsword scattered radiant light.

The White Dragon Sword.

At the appearance of the White Dragon Sword, one of the Eight Swords of the Continent, every jaw in the hall dropped.

The White Dragon Sword's form was supremely lofty and beautiful. Students and professors alike stared at it as though entranced.

The Principal raised the White Dragon Sword high.

Aura blazed explosively along the silver-white blade. The auditorium ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠began to shudder as if a typhoon had descended upon it.

This much power from merely releasing his Aura. He truly was the Imperial Second Sword.

"Welcome to Elysium Academy."

With those words, the Principal thrust his sword toward the ceiling.

Aura whirled brilliantly and shot skyward.

It was a gorgeous display, like stars falling in reverse.

The mouths of the freshmen and professors gaped wide enough to tear.

Now.

Evelyn's fingers twitched.

And then—

KWAAAAAAAANG!

The explosion went off directly beneath the Principal. It was violent enough to rock the entire auditorium.

The Principal, caught square in the blast, was launched straight into the air. Everyone stared dumbfounded at the Principal vanishing through the ceiling.

Ooh, there he goes. Nice and clean.

I nodded in satisfaction—

"Ke—keeyaaaak!"

—while Milo let out a shriek of pure panic.