Last Class Standing - 3
Despite its grim-sounding name, the Inter-Class Competition ranked among the softer, gentler events on the Academy calendar.
The Expo was a clash of noble pride, and the practical exams could decide a commoner's entire future—but the Inter-Class Competition offered neither pride nor profit. The winning class would sort itself out while everyone horsed around a bit, so who would bother pouring their heart into it?
This year, however—or rather, for the past three years including this one—that winning class was being decided by force rather than inertia.
"Though it is called a competition, this is a place where we confirm one another's learning and walk forward together. Someday the young people gathered here will lead the Empire, and more broadly the continent itself. Therefore this old man hopes the competition will become a stage for harmony rather than rivalry."
Thanks to that, the headmaster's opening speech was so earnest it nearly brought tears to the eyes. In ordinary times there would have been no need for such a lengthy address, but preventing the atmosphere from overheating left him no choice.
What a way to spend one's twilight years.
I watched the headmaster's back with pity as he delivered his heartrending speech. The vice-headmaster standing beside me was surely wearing the same expression.
Headmaster of the Academy was the absolute pinnacle of a career. Mayor of the city that had grown around the Academy, and chief of the Empire's foremost educational institution—how glorious and exalted a post. In the field of education, only the Minister of Education himself stood higher.
Of course, that still ranked below royalty. Headmaster or not, what did it matter? Royalty could order civil servants about with a mere chin flick. And with royal safety now at stake, the headmaster's behavior made perfect sense.
"Proper competition and a healthy desire to win are the fertilizer of growth. Yet today is not the only day you possess."
The headmaster was stressing once more that no one should get too excited.
A speech that repeated the same points grew tedious, but it could not be helped. Ever since the royals Ryutis and Later had confirmed their participation in the four-man team match, a warlike atmosphere had settled over the first-years—specifically, over Ryutis's class and Later's class alone.
With the two royals throwing their hats into the ring, the field of contenders had narrowed to those two classes, and their students had been forcibly reassigned as honor guards fighting for royal prestige.
Behaving half-heartedly on so glorious and solemn an occasion? That was as good as declaring one would never again set foot in high society. They would grit their teeth, eyes rolling back, and throw themselves into the competition.
This is going to be a disaster.
The headmaster shared the thought, which was why he was going on like this, yet I doubted the speech would have much effect. Please, let no one lose an arm or a leg. Should I start praying?
"I hope it remains a pleasant memory."
And so, amid anxiety and prayer, the Inter-Class Competition began.
It did not open with blood-soaked carnage under the banner of "the headmaster-sanctioned hour of slaughter and frenzy."
Fortunately the only event featuring royalty was the final four-man match, so there was no need to hold one's breath just yet. And given the Academy's overwhelmingly noble student body, the other events were not particularly rough either.
Or rather… could this even be called a rough event?
They're doing every last thing imaginable.
The thunder of hooves shaking the earth reached even me at a distance.
Eighteen horses tore across the Academy's grand athletic field. The opening event of the competition was a horse race.
They run well.
Watching blankly, I felt an old trauma stir deep in my skull.
The race before my eyes involved fewer than twenty mounts and looked almost cute by comparison, but in the North I had watched thousands, tens of thousands, charge as one. That had been truly horrific—and I had not watched from the side but from dead ahead, which made it even more maddening.
In the end we somehow won, yet even now I have no idea how we managed to stop them. The Duke of Victory is incredible…
While my thoughts wandered, a rider crossed the finish line. A golden-haired young lady astride a black horse.
First across the line is—Irina Jollun of First-Year Class Three!
"Oh."
An involuntary note of admiration escaped me. Irina, it seemed, rode extremely well.
Smiling, she waved in every direction. Seated atop the large black horse she looked even more imposing.
"Impressive. Plenty of young ladies can ride, but few can race like a jockey."
At the voice beside me I turned and found Margeta watching Irina with open interest.
True enough—simply riding and racing as a jockey were vastly different skills.
"How about you, Mar?"
"I am not a young lady; I am a duke's daughter."
When I asked half in jest, Margeta answered with a face full of pride. She was no ordinary noble young lady but a member of a ducal house, so of course she could do it.
I failed to see the connection between being a duke's daughter and being a jockey, but she looked so pleased I decided to let it pass.
"Though of course I cannot compare to Karl."
"How embarrassing."
She said it with a bright smile, and I returned an awkward one of my own. Regrettably, contrary to Margeta's belief, I was no great horseman. When had I ever had the chance to ride?
Before the transmigration, never. Afterward my family had stubbornly kept me away from horses. Another fall would have been a full-scale catastrophe.
Even in the North, the moment I mounted, the horses seemed to turn into ghosts. Those Keshik bastards—looking back, I am certain they targeted me on purpose.
Come to think of it, I only started riding properly after the war ended.
Only once my life had become completely unrelated to horses could I finally ride without disaster. After the war the Crown Prince sometimes took me along on hunts.
Thanks to that I could manage passably now—just well enough not to fall off.
"Heh. If the chance arises, I should like to ride with you, Karl."
"I feel the same."
Seeing Margeta look so expectant, I could not find the courage to disappoint her.
I casually turned my gaze back to the field and saw Irina taking her victory lap.
Hmmmm.
Maybe I should just learn from Irina.
When first place is right nearby, one ought to learn from first place.
Even though she was in pure spectator mode, Luise looked cheerful thanks to her class's victory in the opening event.
And that was the last time Luise's class would win. Having poured everything into the horse race, her class proceeded to rack up a string of improbable losses in every following event.
Horse racing depended on the mount as much as the rider, making high-level sandbagging impossible; the later events, however, did not.
Two classes grinding their teeth to win for their royals, and everyone else half-heartedly cooperating so those two classes could win. The bizarre combination produced entirely predictable results.
"Quite fierce."
"Yes. The students' enthusiasm seems considerable."
I sent Margeta off to her busy student-council duties and attached myself to the headmaster's side. Once the competition heated up, remaining near him seemed wisest.
Indeed, after the horse race the event became a fierce seesaw battle between Ryutis's class and Later's. Whenever one won, the other took the next, then the first took the one after that.
Even if you fixed the matches you couldn't make them this clean.
If you lot weren't royals, people would already be screaming about match-fixing.
Still, the silver lining was that while the contests were intense, no serious conflict or bloodshed had erupted. It remained merely excessive passion for victory.
"It looks as though today will end without incident."
A small sense of relief softened the headmaster's expression somewhat.
The Inter-Class Competition was not a one-day affair, yet at least one day was somehow passing. That alone was cause for joy. Please do not snatch away the fragile happiness of us poor civil servants.
In any case, the match just finished had been the last of the morning slate.
"The afternoon events are still far off—shall we have a meal?"
"I appreciate the offer, but other duties remain."
"I see."
I nodded at the headmaster's words. Holding an Inter-Class Competition did not make the Academy's other work vanish.
Regrettably the same applied to Margeta. Seeking out the club members felt awkward too—an adult barging into students' lunchtime. So I simply went alone. If neither Margeta nor the members were free, there was no one left to eat with. Better to finish quickly and return before running into anyone.
"Unnie. Aren't you eating?"
"I already ate earlier."
"Then can I finish all of this?"
"Yeah. You've got a match later. Eat everything."
I never expected to meet anyone before even picking up a fork.
Surprising. Everyone seemed to be treating it like sports day and eating outside, so I had assumed the dining hall would be empty.
What is this situation?
Two students squatting forlornly not inside the dining hall but outside it. The way they whispered to each other left an impression.
I could have ignored them and walked in, yet the conversation that had just reached my ears held me back. "I already ate earlier"—anyone hearing that would know she had gone hungry.
After a moment's hesitation I changed course toward the two students. An Academy student unable to eat properly was not merely an Academy problem; it was an Empire problem. Attending the Academy meant the student was either a noble or a talented commoner.
Neither type should be going hungry.
The one who had been called "unnie" must have heard my approach, for she hastily looked back.
If I said she looked like a startled meerkat it would probably be rude to the student.
"Unnie, why'd you—"
The younger sibling, still chewing industriously, turned toward her sister, but the older girl's face had gone deathly pale and she could not answer.
I expected as much.
A sigh nearly escaped at the all-too-predictable reaction. Was it any wonder I had carefully avoided contact with other students until now? Even the faculty flinched at the combination of Audit Department Chief and Inspector. Ordinary students were worse.
When I carefully took another step forward, the older sister flinched so hard it was visible to the naked eye.
Anyone watching would think I was bullying a child.