Passing Like a Dog (2)
Passing Like a Dog (2)
When I came to my senses, I'd become a son of a bitch.
How the hell had my life become this turbulent?
Once the dawn sentiment that'd hijacked my frontal lobe that night had faded and daybreak drew near, I needed some time to replay exactly what kind of dumb bastard things I'd been spouting the night before.
I never imagined Haspelt would barge into the stable without any warning. Precisely to prepare for that kind of contingency, I should've destroyed the application form the moment I got back.
After completing some self-feedback that I needed to act more thoroughly going forward, I stared blankly into empty space.
"Ah."
What use was it trying to fix my own mistakes? A week had already gone by.
I couldn't tell if Haspelt had changed her mind. But judging only from the current circumstances, it seemed like her plan to work me to the bone and then helplessly sell me off to the Imperial Palace had at least been postponed until after the start of the semester.
Anyway, since that day my quality of life had been declining exponentially.
I woke up at five in the morning and clocked out after midnight. Naturally, my wages were zero.
Actually, you couldn't even call it clocking out. I'd been glued to Professor Haspelt for the past week. The only chance to make up for my chronic lack of sleep was the two hours a day when she went to teach her intersession classes.
If anyone tried to take even that chance from me, I was fully prepared to slug them, even if they were some kind of divine being, but....
"Hey! What's that thing on your neck?"
Kids were the exception.
Why the hell did she come by again.
Frey, who'd suddenly slammed open the lab door and barged in, snickered and trotted right up to me.
She poked the iron collar around my neck with her index finger, then made an unreadably complicated expression.
"It's heavy, so don't mess with it...."
"No, I'm asking who put this on you?"
"The professor did."
"As expected of her."
When you wore an iron chain, its distinctive metallic scent tickled the tip of your nose. It wasn't exactly a pleasant smell.
It wasn't good for my neck joints either. Because the chunk of scrap metal was squeezing my neck, even turning my head was difficult, and it had some real weight to it, so if I screwed up my posture even a little, my collarbone would start screaming.
And on top of that, there was the clanking of the chain. It was the worst possible environment for working in a stable state of mind.
"Well, you should've resisted when she put the collar on you!"
"You think I can just do something because someone tells me to?"
Even looking purely at physical ability and not magic, Haspelt was several steps above me. Even if I struggled, getting subdued took an instant.
It wasn't just Haspelt either—most battlemages who fought at close range possessed that kind of physical capability. On top of that, if they also learned martial arts, they could beat down magic beasts without even using magic, so someone like me was bound to get filleted like a fish being deboned.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
"No. Go do your own stuff."
Why did this kid latch onto me in particular?
"Exams are over, so doing anything at all is stupid. If you've been busting your ass, then slacking off until the semester starts is your reward to yourself."
"You talk like you're guaranteed to pass."
"Ahem! Because I believe in myself!"
Where exactly did this groundless self-confidence come from?
Frey raised her fist toward me.
"Anyway, let's meet in the classroom next time, Gold-eyes!"
"Sure. Thanks, if only in words, runt."
**
After receiving Frey's encouragement—if you could call it that—I headed outside to deal with lunch.
Under other circumstances, I probably would've tried not to go out much, if only from the sheer embarrassment of walking around with a collar, but I absolutely couldn't endure the hunger.
I looked around and made my way toward the dining hall.
It was right around then that a welcome face appeared in my field of vision.
"Oh my, haven't seen you in a while."
"Professor Herlein!"
Just as Frey had done, I trotted up to Professor Herlein and put on the most pitiful expression I could manage.
For the past week, Haspelt had been monitoring me all day and kept me from leaving her side at all, so it'd been almost ten days since I'd seen Professor Herlein.
Herlein saw the iron collar around my neck and tilted her head.
"Did Kleis do this?"
"Yes. That's what happened."
"Hmm.... Even for Kleis, this is awfully out of nowhere. You haven't even attempted to run off anywhere for three whole years. She wouldn't have put a collar on you without any reason, right?"
"I got caught. Applying here."
At my words, Herlein made a long, drawn-out hissing sound through her teeth. Breaking the brief silence, Professor Herlein lobbed a follow-up question.
Though calling it a question was a stretch.
"Mind if I get a look at that keyhole?"
"Why?"
"Hold on. I just need to check something real quick."
The iron collars that slaves wore typically had a keyhole carved into one side.
It had a structure that couldn't be removed without the matching key. Washing my hair or bathing was unbelievably inconvenient.
Of course, how many days did a slave even get to wash properly.... Still, since I could wash once every two days, I guess I had to say I was better off than most.
"Alright. I more or less get what's going on. More importantly, you did make sure to write down the address for the notification letter that'll tell you whether you passed, right?"
"Yes. I arranged for it to be sent to your residence, Professor Herlein."
The reason for that was simple. My stable didn't have an address, and if it were sent to Professor Haspelt's lab or mansion, it could've been disposed of without a trace.
It was obvious—my simply applying for the academy entrance exam had already pushed her berserk button. I could clearly picture it: if I passed, she'd lock me up and raise absolute hell to stop me from even paying the deposit.
"Good. If you do pass, I'll come to wherever you are that very day. I doubt you're still living in the stable.... Don't tell me?"
"No. I'm staying at Professor Haspelt's residence."
"Good grief, what is there to obsess over with a kid like this. Fine. I've got it now, so keep your mind at ease and wait."
I nodded after hearing Professor Herlein's encouragement.
"Thank you."
In any case, my goal hadn't changed.
Getting out of this world, no matter what.
Toward that end, I'd also decided to secretly secure a route that would let me flee to the elven country, just in case of an emergency.
I prayed it wouldn't become so desperate that I'd actually have to consider that plan.
**
"Professor, welcome!"
"Phew, the weather's gotten chilly lately. Everyone be careful not to catch a cold."
Right after her brief reunion with Aether, having passed through the academy grounds and arrived at the Admissions Management Team office, Meri took off her scarf and scanned the spacious room. The staff and part-timers who were using magic devices to scan the written exam OMR sheets entered her view.
Originally, Kleis was supposed to handle this work too, but she'd broken the appointment a few days ago claiming something urgent had come up, so Meri had to cover her share as well.
What that 'urgent matter' was, though, was obvious as hell.
"Next is Group 17."
Meri quickly snapped back to attention and took her place.
"That's one hundred people's worth. Thank you in advance, Professor."
Rumor had it that a lot of exceptionally talented kids had applied for this year's entrance exams.
An elf male student who handled near-perfect Air Magic, the eldest daughter of the House of Count Saliere who was even more serious about flames than House Haspelt. A Water Magic user who'd once flash-frozen a whole lecture hall, a student who freely summoned and dismissed golems without even using a scroll, and so on.
On top of that.... Even the Second Prince, a problem child whose abilities were outstanding but who dragged a scandal with women everywhere he went.
As expected, all of their written scores sat comfortably in the upper ranks. So long as they hadn't flunked the practical, they were good enough to pass with room to spare.
The elf male student in particular had scored exactly 90 points on every single subject according to the scan, currently leading the pack.
Tillet's practical exam was difficult in its own right, but the written exam boasted a difficulty that other academies couldn't even hope to match. Getting even a 90 on a single subject meant you were in the extreme upper echelon, within the top 0.1% of the mages in your cohort.
The elf male student would probably be ranked first.
After him, the second spot would likely go to the Count's daughter from House Saliere, the second-in-line talent in Fire Magic, or the daughter of Viscount Eliyev, who'd independently distinguished herself in improving Water Magic. And even if she didn't like it, the Second Prince was certain to be placed in the Special Class.
As for any other variables.......
"Excuse me! I think the scanner here is broken!"
"What's wrong?"
"It's just, this student's OMR is coming out as all correct answers."
Professor Herlein reflexively shot up from her seat.
"Did you try putting another student's sheet back in?"
"Uh.... This one works fine. Couldn't it just be something weird with this student's sheet?"
"Don't tell me it's actually...."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You know very well that even the professors have trouble finishing our academy's entrance exam within the time limit."
Herlein walked over to the admissions office staff who were waving their hands dismissively. Then she uttered just one word.
"Name."
"Pardon? You mean the student's name?"
Aether.
Herlein's narrowed eyes widened, and an arc drew itself across her lips. The part-timer, having missed the subtle shift in her expression, insisted that the scan results made no sense and that they had to bring over a pre-printed answer key and grade it by hand.
Well, that'd be the normal reaction.
Herlein and three others, including the part-timer, began manually grading each subject. The subject Professor Herlein took on was Basic Magic Theory.
Some of the problems in Basic Magic Theory were ones she or Haspelt had written. Each professor's problem-writing style was a little different, and it was amusing to catch glimpses of the test-maker's personality from them.
In Professor Herlein's case, she liked writing so-called 'trap' questions that looked easy at a glance but made you pick the wrong answer if you hadn't studied properly. It was its own kind of fun to watch undergrads who'd picked the wrong choice with cocky grins, thinking they'd finally seen something they knew, get more points taken off than they expected, and then cackle that they still had a long way to go. Some people probably talked shit behind her back, calling her a total menace for it.
In contrast, Professor Haspelt wrote challenging problems that you could only barely solve by wracking your brain like a maniac. If that were all, you'd be lucky, but her trademark was to also water down knowledge she'd gained from her own research and turn it into an entrance exam problem.
Herlein could say it confidently. She herself couldn't solve the Problem 50 that Kleis had written this time within the time limit. Spending that energy on checking whether you'd made a marking error was far more profitable in every way.
Swish, swish, swish.
As she cross-checked the exam sheet against the answer key, a fall of red snow came down.
That pattern continued as she entered the later sections, into the 40s range. Glancing to the side, it looked like the others had also almost finished grading.
Number 47, correct. Number 48, correct. Number 49. She'd even breezed past the double-trap problem Herlein herself had written.
All that remained was Number 50. A cutting-edge problem written by Professor Kleis Haspelt. The situation now was simply a matter of confirming whether she'd solved it or not.
"Professor, I've finished grading the Language Arts section. All correct."
"Mathematics: 50 correct answers out of 50."
"Continental History...! It's a perfect score...!"
"What about Basic Magic Theory?"
Tap.
At the grading part-timer's question, Herlein set down her pen and closed the last page of the exam sheet.
"It's a blizzard."
There'd been a reason the weather was so particularly cold that day.
That day, the first perfect written exam score in the history of Tillet Academy had appeared.