I'll Step In Myself
"We're here! This is it—Caesus Academy!"
Tia hopped up and down, gazing at the fortress spires rising far in the distance amid a sea of lush greenery.
"Hngh—wait, wait a moment! I think we need to slow down!"
Yuri cried out in a panic. Luca was still pedaling away in that unseen realm of swiftness, where no eye could follow.
Luca finally stopped her legs, but the airship's propellers knew nothing of momentum's mercy and refused to quit.
"It's still turning?"
"Honestly, it's a miracle it hasn't broken down yet…."
"Whoa, hey! There's a barrier up there! We're about to hit it!"
Aisha floundered in alarm. The great dome-shaped barrier, translucent like an enormous beehive, was closing in on them in an instant.
"I'll punch through it!"
"No! That's a declaration of wa—…!"
―KWAAANG!
The fireball Tia loosed tore a massive hole through the barrier. The airship slipped cleanly through the gap and shot off like a bolt.
"Well, we're screwed. Anti-air bombardment inbound, no doubt about it."
All four of them looked down at the deck.
But unlike the horrified Aisha, Luca, Tia, and Yuri couldn't contain their excitement, their eyes sparkling.
"Wow! Look down there! It's so pretty…."
"Oh, you're right. What a magical view…!"
Cliffs rising between cascading waterfalls, a lake like a painted canvas framed by forest splendor, snow-covered plains stretching to the horizon.
Yuri forgot even her fear of heights, gazing breathlessly at the fairytale landscape below.
"Look at the castles over there. Which one do you think our dorm will be?"
"We already passed it."
"That was too faaast! Hnn, Master was somewhere down there just now too, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, I'm sure he was!"
The three of them looked from the Academy to each other, realized they were all imagining the very same thing, and burst into knowing smiles.
"Girls! The barrier, the barrier!!"
They whipped around at Aisha's desperate shout—only to find themselves already bearing down on the opposite edge of the Academy Territory's boundary.
"That thing works way too well."
This time Luca drew her sword. Standing at the airship's stern, she began winding aura around its tip.
Luca's hair, originally blue, began to glow, shifting into a brilliant sky-blue like sapphire.
Frost gathered around her slender blade—so thin it was nearly a rapier—and cold close to absolute zero radiated outward.
"Hup."
Shwoooosh— CRASH!!
The instant Luca flicked her sword with godlike speed, the outer boundary of the territory—pieced together over three years by the Academy's fifth-circle barrier mages and maintained with their entire lives' dedication—sprouted holes like a spiderweb under a broom.
―SHWAAAAAK!
The airship sailed right back out of the barrier yet again. Tia and Yuri scrambled toward the tail in a panic.
"Ah! The Academy's getting farther away!"
"Unni, turn the bow around already!"
"This thing's driving me insane!"
Aisha gritted her teeth and hauled with all her strength on the ropes running to the mast and tail fins.
The airship decelerated and swung through a wide turn, its nose swinging back toward the Academy before charging ahead at full speed.
"Oh look, they've got more barriers now."
Luca shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted into the distance. In the short time since, several more layers of dome-shaped barriers had sprung up around the hole they'd made.
"Ooh, that one's actually pretty advanced. The kind that needs a reinforcement phase. How'd they pop up so fast?"
"Because you three keep smashing them however you please! Are you idiots?! You could have just WALKED there!"
"Oh. Right. Should we head down now, then?"
"Let's."
Without another word of discussion, the three of them leapt off the airship in a blink.
—Fwap fwap fwap fwap….
Aisha listened to the fluttering of their hems and stared blankly at the ground below.
"…And me?"
Four hundred meters up aboard an airship, seven seconds from barrier impact.
The Sword Saint Aisha firmly convinced herself the three were joking, and forced the corners of her mouth upward.
"…the 93 incoming students of the 378th class of Caesus Academy hereby swear, in the name of the Goddess, to pursue truth and devote themselves faithfully to their training! I, Kulan the Dragon Knight, representative of the 378th class's new students, so declare before this assembly!"
A tall, handsome young man raised the torch with practiced poise and set alight the great brazier atop the stage. The entire arena blazed brilliantly, as if embodying the Academy's future.
Above it, a slender beam of white light descended from the heavens. The Goddess's blessing.
―OOOOH!
The spectators filling the arena erupted in cheers and thunderous applause.
It was the Academy's Main Arena, every bit as grand as the Colosseum. The countless stands were packed shoulder to shoulder with visitors who had flooded in from all across the human realm.
With the student representative at their head, the new students, lined up in ranks by dormitory, filed out of the arena.
Ordinarily, that was where the entrance ceremony should have ended—a simple affair and done.
The Chancellor hadn't even delivered a speech, hiding behind the pretext that this was the Goddess's Academy. Truthfully, he simply couldn't be bothered.
After a few more items on the program, a priest with a magnificent voice bellowed through amplification magic. It was about time for me to get ready too.
Pelia, the halfling robed in a wizard's finery, strode out into the arena. Her cloak dragging along the ground behind her was a little comical.
But what she showed next was nothing to laugh at. The way she whirled her staff and conjured, linked, and completed six major magic circles in mere seconds made the title of Sage seem almost an understatement.
"Oooh…."
"A sixth-circle casting, in that span of time…."
"Truly a Chair Professor of Caesus!"
Pelia demonstrated the sixth-circle spell Weather Manipulation. The clear sky darkened, thunder crashed—and the next instant, every cloud was swept away as if scooped off with a ladle, sunlight pouring through.
"Ooooh!"
"So that is the magic of a Sage!"
"Astonishing!"
The spectators applauded, thoroughly satisfied. It was a clean, flawless demonstration—visually striking, easy to grasp, with real impact. She'd chosen her spell well, I thought.
Mulan and Vande followed, showcasing healing arts and feats of raw strength to their own applause and cheers.
After that, the various full professors and associate professors gave brief demonstrations of their own.
And at last, it was my turn—the new arrival.
I walked out into the arena with my head held high. Sure enough, murmurs rose from the stands.
"What did he say his job was?"
"Surely that was a mistake?"
"A slave merchant, a Chair Professor?"
I crossed the floor and took my place at the center of the arena. Every eye in the stadium fixed itself on me.
"Ha! What can a slave merchant with no accomplishments to his name possibly show us? First-rate slaves? Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."
Pelia, already back in the stands, was having the time of her life. Beyond the entry gate, my students waiting in the antechamber wore anxious expressions too.
"Item Box."
I slipped my hand into the black rift that opened in midair and drew something out. A small treasure chest that fit in the palm of my hand. I hurled it forcefully above my head.
―PAANG!
The treasure chest burst open, and a dazzling fireworks display began. Every gaze turned skyward.
"Wait—isn't that…?!"
"Ohhh…!!"
The warehouse opens.
Alongside the fireworks, an ornate golden door materialized in the air. As it swung wide, dazzling light spilled forth, and treasures began appearing one by one, marching out in ranks.
The first among them: the Saint's Diadem.
"This is impossible! Why would that diadem appear in a place like this?! The holy scriptures say only the worthy may possess it!"
The Holy State's envoy, who had clearly done his homework on what it was, gaped and flailed in protest.
I had no intention of granting anyone a leisurely moment to marvel, so I moved on to the next item. From the warehouse I drew forth the Heart of the Mythic Dragon.
"Ooh, did he slay one of the mythic dragons himself…? Incredible! That heart would rot and wither the instant it passed out of the dragon-slayer's own hands!"
So marveled a warrior from the dwarven kingdom, well-versed in all things draconic.
One after another came the Twelfth Ring, the Cuirass of the First Guardian, and more, each treasure paraded in turn.
Every single one was a mythic-grade item—proof of extraordinary qualification by its mere possession.
Acquiring them had been simple enough.
The strategy guides were all written up on the wiki, after all.
The things I was showing off now were mostly items I merely happened to possess—they were never truly bound to me.
I had used every exploit-adjacent strategy the wiki had to offer. The Heart of the Mythic Dragon, for one, wasn't taken through any feat of hunting. Like I could ever take down a dragon myself.
But since mythic-grade items obtainable through such workarounds seemed like they might come in handy someday, I'd collected them now and then during my years as a trader. Traveling all across the continent left plenty of time to spare.
Mythic-grade items can't even be used without a 5-Star job. Which is to say, they're all garbage—albeit perfectly authentic garbage.
The reason I'd never converted them to coin was simple.
More money would have been useless to me, and with a baron's rank, any transaction of that scale would be gutted for nine-tenths in taxes. Even black-market deals drew investigation once something hit mythic grade.
The Empire never misses a chance to profit off someone else's labor.
Still, for purposes of showing off like this, they're perfect, aren't they?
"Truly, every Chair Professor of the Academy is a transcendent figure…."
"To have such achievements to his name and still wear 'Slave Merchant' on his nametag—what manner of man is he?"
"There's no doubt he's no ordinary man."
"Hmph! A slave merchant's a slave merchant all the same!"
The crowd stirred and buzzed. That was enough. Any more, I judged, and I'd be showing my hand for free.
I clenched my fist, and the treasures streamed back into the warehouse, condensing back down into a palm-sized chest that landed in my hand. I tossed it carelessly into the Item Box.
That should about do it. I turned and headed back toward the antechamber.
"Shifu! You showed them your majesty, I see!"
When I returned to the antechamber, Xuehua—the one-armed concept-obsessed Martial Artist—was there, hands pressed together in salute with her right hand.
She'd been selected as one of today's competitors, and was waiting on standby.
"It was nothing. You doing all right?"
"Peak condition!"
Xuehua clicked her prayer beads against her wrist with a sharp snap.
"Professor, is it truly all right for me to be here? I confess I'm somewhat nervous…."
Marque, the Swordsman in full heavy armor, spoke tensely. He was dressed not for the festival, but in flawless jousting regalia.
"Of course it is. Is your lance the proper length?"
"Yes, sir. I measured it exactly as you taught me. Like this—elbow tucked to the hip, tip raised—and it held for two full seconds before my wrist gave."
"Precisely right."
"But I've hardly ever ridden a horse, sir…."
"You'll be fine. Trust your instincts."
"My instincts, then. Let's give it a shot."
"Mm! Both the Hall of Water and the Hall of Wind have formidable warriors! This will be something to see! But Shifu—who is the third warrior of our Hall of Earth?"
"Not a student."
"Oh? Then who?"
Confusion bloomed across Xuehua's and Marque's faces. I answered lightly.
"Everyone's already here, aren't they?"
"I'm sorry?"
"The rule for competing in the festival is 'anyone newly entered into the dormitory this year.'"
"Huh? Shifu, you don't mean—"
I gave Xuehua and Marque a light smile.
"The third is me."