They Say Heroes Never Studied - 3
At the Academy, every student is equal for the length of their enrollment. Royalty, nobility, and commoners alike receive the same education on equal footing, forge friendships as fellow classmates, and leave prejudice at the door. No hierarchy exists here—only the distinction between teacher and student. That is the ironclad creed of the Imperial Academy.
Synonyms include, "I'll stay and finish the work—you go home first," and "I'm not angry, so just tell me the truth." In other words, they say it, but dig even a little and the reality is nothing of the sort. Honestly, you hardly need to dig. A glance is enough.
At least Ainter is the exception.
There were exactly four people who could make a sparring partner throw in the towel in tears. Ainter, who for all his lack of real authority was still imperial blood; Ryutis and Later, each armored in the unbreakable royal shield that no mere noble dared pierce; and Tanian, who by doctrine was called a son of the gods.
Of the four, Ainter did not take practical subjects at all. He was the type who poured himself into pure scholarship rather than the sword, magic, or divine power. When the Crown Prince was already out there brandishing a dragon-slaying blade and dancing a tap dance with it, trying to build up martial force yourself would not be courage—it would be pure recklessness.
No need to worry about Tanian either.
He still wore the label of "candidate," but in practice Tanian was the next Saint, and his holy power was a gift from the gods themselves. By the doctrine of the Dawn Church, not a soul on the continent had the right to evaluate the divine power heaven had bestowed upon him, so the practical exam was a free pass. That left Ryutis and Later.
Villar and the rest of the Armein royal knights would be stationed permanently around Ryutis's sparring grounds, while the royal knights and mage corps of Uben would keep a hawk's eye on Later's. The Holy Kingdom's forces, flush with relative leisure now that Tanian had his free pass, would be dispersed as well.
In raw strength, the security detail far outclassed the two princes, so the odds of a real incident were vanishingly low. No matter how I turned it over, the biggest victims of this practical exam would be the sacrificial lambs unlucky enough to be paired against the two princes. A pity, but there was nothing for it. Sacrifice those two, and everyone else could go home happy.
Still, good thing it'll all be over in a day.
I checked the sparring schedule the principal had given me and let out a quiet breath of relief. There weren't that many students sitting the practical, and with plenty of arenas available, things would move quickly. One day of tension, and we would sail through without a hitch.
Students taking the practical fell into two camps: those treating it like a light general-education elective, and those gritting their teeth and going all out. The ones I needed to watch were, of course, the latter. The former already looked after themselves; they required no special attention.
Which was why I was touring every sparring ground with the principal, preparing for any contingency. Outwardly the principal was a withered old man, but at the core he was a mage powerful enough to rank among the strongest on the continent, not merely within the Empire. Mages only grow more terrifying with age.
"The Empire's future looks bright."
"I think so as well. Every year such outstanding children arrive that even this old heart of mine starts racing."
I had come only to ensure safety and expected little of the students' skill, yet they were better than I had thought.
Some toyed with their opponents through technique, others crushed them with pure physical ability, and a few simply crawled forward on sheer spite and grit. Their styles varied wildly, but they shared one common trait: however the match unfolded, they won in the end.
Not bad.
They were still students, so of course none of them had reached true mastery. Properly tempered, though, they would become useful assets. Like the student council president, for instance.
...Like the student council president?
Oh.
A thought flashed through my mind, and I hurriedly pulled a notebook from my coat.
"The Empire's future looks bright."
Bernhardt Mursch, principal of the Imperial Academy, nodded at the words of the Audit Department Chief. The Empire was vast, and talent was plentiful. Every year, outstanding children arrived and startled him anew, and every time his heart raced with the same fierce joy.
"I think so as well. Every year such outstanding children arrive that even this old heart of mine starts racing."
These children would grow into the pillars that held up the Empire. There had been a time when he had ranged across battlefields alongside His Grace the Iron Blood Duke, dedicating himself wholly to the Empire, but that body was old and worn now. If this aged frame could still contribute by raising the next generation of pillars, how could that not bring him joy?
Bernhardt gazed at the students with quiet satisfaction—until a soft scratching sound beside him forced him to turn.
At some point the Audit Department Chief had begun writing something in a notebook. That alone would not have troubled him, but the fact that the man was now staring at the very students Bernhardt had been watching with such fondness—and staring with a predator's sharp, assessing eyes—was harder to ignore.
"Audit Department Chief?"
"Ah. Forgive me."
The Chief closed his notebook, but Bernhardt could not quite shake the unease. Ever since the Audit Department Chief had come to the Academy, every move he made had been for the Academy's benefit; he had never once done it harm.
Even so, if the head of that notorious department was looking at his precious students the way a hunter looks at prey, then as an educator—and as an old man who meant to serve as a foundation for the next generation—Bernhardt had a duty to know why.
"There is nothing to forgive. Though as this old man ages, it seems my curiosity only grows. Might I ask what you were writing?"
"Nothing important."
The Chief slipped the notebook back into his coat. His gaze never left the students.
"I was noting talent that might serve the Empire."
The faint lift at the corner of the Chief's mouth suggested he was thoroughly satisfied.
"Excellent. The Empire's future is truly bright."
Bernhardt hesitated over how to answer. If students caught the eye of a high official and received letters of recommendation, that was a joyous thing. Yet the look in that official's eyes had been anything but ordinary, and it left him uneasy.
The hesitation did not last long. Whatever his fearsome reputation, the Audit Department Chief was known to be a man of fierce patriotism. He would not do anything untoward to students who dreamed of careers in the bureaucracy or the military.
"Yes. I look forward to watching those children grow."
They would surely walk toward a fine future.
The thought that had flashed through my mind—right. The student council president. I had spotted a promising raw gem like him and secured him faster than anyone else. The Academy was an educational ground packed with inexperienced raw gems exactly like the student council president. And with raw gems, the first one to find them and carry them off owns them.
The good ones I could push toward the Third or Fifth Bureaus. Failing that, a recommendation to the Ministry of Special Affairs or the military would work just as well. Those people were always grumbling about being short-handed; if I sent them a few pre-civil-servants and made a show of generosity, it would make future favors far easier to call in.
A gold mine. An absolute gold mine.
Every time I jotted down the number of an arena where an eye-catching match had taken place, a deep satisfaction welled up inside me. Was this how a professor felt looking at prospective graduate students? Anyway, if I could snag even ten of them here, my road ahead would get a whole lot smoother. Hand three or so off to other departments and they would be so happy they'd lose their minds.
And so the writing of my own little personal Pokédex continued without pause until the principal called for me.
I'll have to check again at the next exam, too.
New raw gems might appear by then. Both the Empire's future and my own were looking almost too bright.
At last, Ryutis's sparring match began in the swordsmanship arena. I felt the presence of the Armein royal knights hidden throughout the grounds shift and sharpen.
"I yield..."
And it was over almost before it began, so uneventful it was almost anticlimactic. Even in a spar, finding the courage to swing a sword at royalty was no small thing. Maybe a completely unhinged republican could manage it.
If only Later had taken the knight's path, I could have thrown him against Ryutis—but of course the bastard was a mage. As usual, utterly useless.
"That was a splendid match!"
Splendid for you, maybe.
Watching Ryutis laugh loudly and offer a handshake to his opponent only deepened my sympathy for the other side. The kid's skill hadn't looked half bad, and his opponent just happened to be a prince. Truly a tragedy.
He's a solid one, too.
I stroked my chin as I regarded the sparring partner, who had bowed only his head while, in his heart, he must have bent a full ninety degrees at the waist. Surrender the instant the match started and it would look far too obvious; harm a royal body, on the other hand, and you earned a royal grudge. So the opponent had been forced to endure an age of torment, taking hits from Ryutis the entire time.
Being struck, stabbed, and cut from every angle while tanking with the least painful parts of his body—it was almost impressive. Winning a fight with everything you had was one thing, but staging a hospitable defeat the other side never even noticed? That was the hardest art of all.
So much talent.
I filed Ryutis's opponent away in my mental storage as well. Whether this year's Academy class was a golden harvest or this was simply the average level, I had no idea. From the perspective of someone doing the recruiting, though, it was excellent news either way.
"Oh? What a coincidence. It seems Student Erich's match is about to begin as well."
"Erich's?"
While I watched a student from House Kaiser limp down from the far side of Ryutis's arena and then suddenly start walking normally again, the principal's voice reached me; he had been surveying the other grounds.
"Will you go and watch?"
"I am not sure we have the time."
"Ryutis's match is finished, so what is there to hurry for? The magic department spars are still a long way off. We have more than enough time."
The principal had kindly handed me a perfect pretext; I nodded. Truth be told, I was curious how much Erich's skill had grown.
"In that case, that would be fine."
"I hear Student Erich's ability improves by the day. This will be my first time seeing him myself, so I am rather looking forward to it."
"Hearing that from you, Principal, only makes me prouder."
"It is no empty courtesy. Feel free to take as much pride as you like."
Exchanging the appropriate compliments, we moved to another sparring ground, and there I found Erich just stepping up into the arena.
And the moment we appeared, Erich—who had looked perfectly calm—had his fighting spirit surge so dramatically it was almost startling. His opponent's confusion was plain to see.
The sight of Erich charging in the instant the match began, as if possessed by pure spite, was quite something. A level of skill that left me both proud and thoroughly satisfied as I watched.
Everything about it is good.
Really, everything.
So why, the moment he saw me, did it look like he clenched his jaw and started running like a man possessed?
Maybe I was imagining it. Except his gaze had definitely locked onto me.
I had thought we were getting closer—but apparently, to Erich, my mere existence was still a berserk-mode totem.