Special Talent Admissions Examination (2)
I was just picking one of the desserts Professor Lina had brought and popping it into my mouth when I noticed Kirrin muttering to herself.
The look on her face—like she'd just steeled herself for some ironclad resolution—was deeply unsettling. It was the same feeling you get watching the class loser in the back row suddenly raise a hand with deadly serious eyes.
"Principal. Come eat with us—wait, where are you going?"
Whether she didn't hear me or simply ignored me, Kirrin spun on her heel and bolted toward the main building. Was she actually about to pull something?
Nah. No way. This was the same woman who'd scrapped practical training altogether because she was terrified of getting fired.
I switched off my concern for Kirrin and reached for the desserts before the other professors could clean them out.
"Hey, Orendi. Hand that over. I called dibs on that one earlier."
"Ah... but that's the tastiest one..."
I ate the cream cake I'd shaken down from Orendi and turned my gaze toward the stables.
Inside, a magnificent stallion, white from head to hoof—the herd's leader—was watching me with those enormous dark eyes.
They say ten years is enough to change even mountains and rivers. Back then he'd been a foal, and now he was all grown up, leading a whole herd.
I'd first crossed paths with him when Linus and I were running an operation on the Brun Plateau with our special task force. Saying I formed a bond with a horse sounds a little off, but anyway.
At the time, our unit had received intel that the Demon King's army was moving to capture the wild horses of the Brun Plateau, and we'd been racing to intercept them. The demon forces got there first, though. By the time we arrived, the wild horses were already captured and being led away.
We ambushed them, wiped them out to the last man, and freed the horses—but a few inevitably died in the fighting. He'd been one of the foals who'd lost his mother that day.
We didn't leave the plateau right away. We waited for the demon army's rear guard, and in those few days we tended to the wounded horses and orphaned foals. Celine had been a hunter, so she knew how to care for them. Thanks to her, that half-dead, wheezing little thing recovered enough to run again.
After we finished off the rear guard as well, we left the plateau. Ten years passed, and now this assignment had brought me back.
Originally I'd planned to have Knightly practice taming on a smaller wild horse. But then I spotted him standing there as the herd leader and changed the plan. If I'd just put Knightly on him cold, she probably wouldn't have lasted long before getting thrown. But I made a calculated gamble.
Horses are smarter than people give them credit for, and the wild horses of the Brun Plateau are exceptional even by that standard. I figured he'd recognize me and settle down before long.
And if he didn't recognize me and kept going berserk? Then I'd step in and subdue him myself. If Knightly fell, Orendi could blink her to safety with a short-range teleport. Easy.
With even the worst-case scenario covered, I sent Knightly in—and it played out exactly as I'd expected. An ordinary wild horse would've gone on rampaging forever. But as I ran alongside him, talking the whole time, he remembered me. In less than ten minutes, he submitted.
That's how we brought the entire wild horse herd back to the Academy for practical training. The Brun Plateau wild horses are extremely intelligent, and with a cooperative herd leader, we can run all kinds of scenario-based drills. For instance, a horse that's already been tamed can "act" like it's never been ridden when a new student gets on. And with Professor Anna—supposedly a genius of combat horsemanship, though you'd never guess it looking at her—it shouldn't be hard at all.
"Anyway, munch munch, I suppose we're skipping it again this year too."
Orendi, having lost his cake to me, picked up another pastry and changed the subject.
"Skipping what?"
"The special talent selection. According to the operating regulations, we're supposed to hold it at the start of the year."
"What's a special talent student?"
I asked back-to-back, and Orendi gave me a deeply suspicious look.
"Chief Professor. Just checking, but... you haven't read the operating regulations, have you?"
"Nope."
"Excuse me? It'd make your work a lot easier if you did. What if you push something through and it gets shot down mid-process because it violates the rules?"
"That's what you guys are for. You know the regs inside and out, so just flag me if something comes up. Anyway, what's a special talent student?"
Orendi stared at me like I was unbelievable, then snickered and explained.
"Normally our Academy starts from first year after an entrance exam, right? Special talent students skip the exam entirely and go straight into the highest year—which this year means the graduating class."
"Is that so? So these special talent students are people whose skills are so far above the rest they don't need to go through the regular curriculum step by step?"
"Exactly. A few other academies already have this system in place. Producing excellent graduates is an academy's top priority, after all. Even if you didn't teach them from the ground up, they're still academy alumni."
"Got it. And our Academy has never done this even once?"
"That's right."
All Kirrin's doing, of course. Terrified that something would go wrong and she'd get dismissed as Principal.
"So how many of these special talent students do we take?"
"Up to five, depending on the quality of the applicants. If none of them meet the Academy's standards, we can reject them all."
Not a bad system at all.
"When does it happen?"
"We should be putting out the selection notice around now. That way we can finalize the picks this month and get them into the graduating class's regular curriculum."
Orendi glanced toward the main building, where Kirrin had disappeared.
"But given the complete radio silence, I imagine we're just going to skip it again this year."
"I see. So that's how it is."
We should do this. Regulations aside, it's a chance to bring in quality talent from outside. Of course we should. Like Orendi said, as long as they have a diploma, they're Academy graduates. Grab one outstanding kid from somewhere, graduate them, and it raises our Academy's prestige.
Raise the quality of our graduates, raise the Academy's standing, and the Second Princess will be very pleased. She'll think, Things are running just fine without needing to make Dian the Principal.
I'll wrap things up here, finish the rest of today's work, and formally propose it to Kirrin tomorrow.
The next morning.
"Professor!"
I'd just left the faculty quarters and was heading for the main building when a sharp voice called me to a halt. I turned. Knightly was standing there, looking extremely displeased, glaring daggers at me.
"What are you doing here at this hour? Don't you have class?"
"It's still before first period."
"Ah, right. Then go get ready for class. I'm busy, so—"
"Wait!"
I was about to walk off when Knightly shrieked and tried to run at me. Instead, she planted her feet shoulder-width apart and came toddling toward me in a bowlegged waddle, trembling with every stiff step. I nearly burst out laughing, but I bit down hard on my lip and waited for her to reach me.
Her pace was so glacial, though, that I had no choice but to ask her to cut to the chase.
"Sorry, but I need to see the Principal right now. Unless this is a life-or-death emergency, let's talk later!"
I felt bad for Knightly, but I had a packed day, and I needed to talk to Kirrin about the special talent selection before classes started.
"Professor! Aaaagh! Seriously!"
Leaving Knightly's howl behind me, I hurried to the main building—only to get unexpected news from the chief administrator.
"What? She went to the Imperial Palace?"
"Yes, Chief Professor. To report on current affairs."
"Hrm. I see..."
What's this dark elf up to all of a sudden? She used to shake like a leaf at the mere mention of the Second Princess.
Then I remembered Kirrin's face from yesterday at the stables. Muttering to herself with that look of grim determination. When a loser type makes a big decision, it usually means they're about to do something impulsive and stupid.
Don't tell me she went and tried something ridiculous, only to get chewed out and sent packing?
"Hahh... I'm going to lose my mind..."
As the walls of the Imperial Palace came into view through the rattling carriage window, Kirrin let out a dry sigh. Resting neatly on her lap was an ornate gold-trimmed decision folder—the current affairs report she would present to the Second Princess.
Kirrin's sudden decision to go to the Imperial Palace all came down to the resolution she'd made yesterday, watching Dian. If she was going to smoothly hand the Principal's seat over to him and step down to a professorship, she needed to start building up accomplishments, one by one. That was the plan.
So Kirrin had prepared the report, sent word that she'd be visiting the palace today, and—fortunately—the Second Princess had accepted.
"So... this year's special talent selection, and... uh, also... the graduating class competition schedule, and... um, what else was there... the pre-interviews with recruiting agencies..."
As she recited the items she'd be reporting, the carriage came to a stop in front of the main keep.
"Welcome, Principal Kirrin."
A servant who'd come out to greet her led Kirrin inside. Walking down the corridor, she drew a deep breath and tugged at her shirt collar, but it did no good. The fear clamping down on her chest wasn't going to vanish from a few deep breaths.
Hahh. If I'd known it'd be like this, maybe I should've asked Dian to come with me. It would've been a little easier if he were here... But Dian's busy running the Combat Department. Dragging him along would just be a burden on him. And I'm the Principal. I have to act the part. If it looks like I'm hiding behind Dian, the Second Princess will just find another excuse to pick at me—say I don't even have the qualifications.
Kirrin took another deep breath and walked down the corridor that felt like it led to an execution ground, until she stood before the Second Princess's office.
"Please surrender everything on your person first."
"Understood..."
Kirrin dumped out every dagger, poison needle, and garrote of every size she'd hidden all over her body in a clattering heap, then hesitantly knocked on the door and opened her mouth.
"K-K-K-Kirrin Nemara... I-I-I was wondering if I might perhaps inquire as to whether it would be possible to... enter..."
"Come in."
The Second Princess's voice came from inside, and Kirrin felt her blood run cold as she opened the door.