Bouncing Through the Entrance Exam
Nobility in this world—it's like they have blue blood flowing through their veins, setting them apart entirely. In a world watched by the gods themselves, they had to show conduct befitting their titles and cherish the people in their territories. Fail that, and you'd really see divine punishment in the form of lightning bolts from the heavens. Exploit them, and the commoners would just up and leave for another noble's land—no big loss. You could call the power dynamic between lords and peasants a bit twisted. Noblesse oblige. With noble blood comes the duty to uphold a high standard of moral responsibility and social obligation matching their wealth and power. That's why enrolling in and graduating from the academy is the bare minimum basics for any noble.
Nobles master advanced spells to form magic circles or auras, outliving commoners by a mile, so blowing a decade on studies isn't a loss. Still, time is precious—who'd want to waste it? But somewhere in the world, there are nobles who don't even know titles exist.
"Duke??? Young master??? Not birds, you mean an actual title??? And I'm the sole heir to a duke's house???"
"Calm yourself. Even if you deny it, it's reality now."
"No way! What kind of duke's son milks cows and makes cheese!"
"Hm? Insulting farmers? Careful, or you'll spark a peasant revolt."
"I've heard rumors that 'noble' is just a punching bag title, but this is worse than I thought."
"They dump the family head seat on one kid while the other siblings handle territory duties and live freely. Truth is, the emperor's the most pitiful—no life of his own."
"No princely siblings fighting over the throne like in stories?"
"Who'd want the throne when being royal means sucking honey, but ruling means slaving till death? Even if you wanna be a tyrant, the founding dragon emperor's still alive."
"Yikes."
Our kingdom has tragedies like this. The founder still kicking, watching over like, "You're the next big king? Figure it out yourself," while the current one works. Just imagining it choked me up, cold sweat dripping. Wait—is this why Mom hid our title and lived in the sticks?!
"No, your mom's just a weirdo. In my eternal life, I've never met anyone like her."
"That bad?"
"Beyond bad. I contracted with her on a whim after seeing her face and... assets. Still regretting it."
".....Should I... cancel the contract for you?"
"Don't say that, boy. This Grand Duke honors his contracts forever."
"Got it."
While resting on my lap like a personal bed, the Grand Duke said that.
"Whoa, can't see the sky anymore."
"What?"
"If it's too tough, this Grand Duke can ensure you pass."
"...I'll try my best first. Passing with Mom's help would be embarrassing."
"Her 'help' wouldn't be passing—it'd be annihilation."
Sweeping all this year's applicants and leaving just her beloved daughter. The Grand Duke's words plunged me into agonizing questions about what Mom really does. She sleeps in every day, reads picture books to her grown son, frolics in fields singing songs. That's why I feel this duty to support her. But a duke? Then what about Dad? And witches seem way different from what I know.
"Haa, it'll work out somehow."
If I fail, get a city job, work, retry next year. Academies are for good jobs anyway, right? Early social experience—great opportunity!
"Alright, fighting!! Let's go, Wiyu!!"
Too early to chicken out! I fought Mom to get here! Quitting now wastes all that effort!
★★★
"Familiars are prohibited."
"What?! No such rule!"
"It was made because of the Witchcrafts."
"Then can protectors enter instead of familiars?"
"No issue there. Thanks for your service, Grand Duke."
The Grand Duke nearly couldn't even spectate the Pluwitch Academy entrance exam, but he took Mom's spot as protector. Following the proctor's guidance, I changed into gym clothes and headed to where the other kids gathered.
I figured an auditorium, but do they not let you in the building without passing? The assembled students were tense, waiting. Famous academy—what tests await? I stood in line, holding my breath, super nervous.
Then a proctor with a dead-tired, unmotivated face climbed the podium.
"Ahem, can everyone hear? Welcome, young hopefuls aiming for Pluwitch Academy. As you know, not everyone passes. Some might know the format—out of 7 tests, first to pass 2 qualify."
"......?"
That sounds easy? First to hit 2 out of 7? Less worrying than I thought—
Then he pulled out a drum. No way, right? He shook it, drew a lot.
"Test 1: Physical Fitness Test. Crucial for nobles.... Mages need basics too; stamina's essential for duties. No mana—reach that distant goal in time using your current bodies."
'Easier than expected...?'
Actually, huge advantage for me. Other kids grumbled about no mana—though only the out-of-shape ones. Non-humans looked thrilled.
"Prepare."
The goal at the field's end didn't look far. Proctor raised a flare-loaded gun slowly.
"Commencing Test 1 for Group 1."
"...Group 1?"
What—? Bang! Gunshot echoed, kids in gym clothes bolted. I gritted my teeth and ran too.
With my different build, others pulled ahead at first—but the goal was receding?
"...? The goal's moving away?"
Not my eyes—space stretched, goal halted farther out. Field expanded 5x? Magic, huh. I kicked off hard.
Running's my jam. Played with horses, herded sheep with dogs, lost sword muscles but kept stamina!
Overtook goat-horned kid, accelerating. Can go faster—
"Guhhh!!!"
It huuuurts!!
Shaking. Up, down, left, right—two masses jiggled wildly. Each pudding-like bounce burned like fire.
Boys ahead and beside turned at the heavy jiggle sound, slowed abruptly, fell behind.
"Even if you wanna enroll, that's cheating, right?!"
"Shut up! Entrants choose their undergarments freely!!"
"You're lagging too—why defend her?!"
One glance, and the overwhelming jiggle froze them. Girls tripped staring. Boys screamed "Don't look!!" but peeked, stumbling in despair. I overtook the limping ones.
Why're they slowing? No time to care. Throat hurts, back hurts—!! Spine snapping! Worse, they slap my chest with every bounce—can't breathe!
"How do girls live lugging these?!"
"Interference allowed? Then you big tits!! I'll ram that ass!!"
The goat-horn girl I'd passed charged back with a battle cry, accelerating.
"Lightness from small stature! Savage thigh power!! These horns'll shatter your ribs!!"
She'll do anything to pass, cackling. I swung desperately, smacking her head—felt like metal, flinched.
She seized the gap, horns incoming—
"Ah."
Not head—straight jaw hit by boob. First breast slapped cheek, second delivered full impact.
Goat-horn girl's neck cracked? She spewed blood, tumbling.
"Uh, s-sorry!!!"
"Killed by tits!!"
"Oh my god!!"
Eyes rolled back, sprawled pathetically—dead? Onlookers who'd approached to interfere fled the mass weapon.
"Trained 10 years, but wielding the essence of destruction—twin ultra-breasts..."
"...Not ultra, extreme?"
"Shut it, ignoramus."
Even spectators gasped in awe. Some guessed I skipped undies to weaponize them. With so many weirdos, no bra wasn't eccentric.
"I made it!!!"
Way easier than feared! First in, I cheered, hopping—proctor shoved me inside to calm down.
"Just... one more to go!"
I can do it! For real! Fists clenched, I gazed at the dragged-off unconscious goat-horn, awaiting next.
"Ah."
Next I knew, failed on Test 6 judgment.
Doomed.
"Total failure... no academy for me!"
"So what? Retry in a year."
Goat-horn approached, waving cheerfully as I panicked, messing my hair.
"Last test together! Let's crush it, Tits!"
"Tits...? Uh, I look girl but I'm a guy."
"Oh yeah? Dad's a goat-fucker."
"...What?"
"Huh? Don't know? No goat suin? Means incubus fucked a goat to make me."
"Why tell me?!"
"Figured fellow crazies should buddy up?"
"Nooo!!"
The black smoky-eyed goat-horn girl laughed, offering hand.
"Succubus kin, Beatus. You?"
Possible classmate, so I shook, introducing.
"Witch here, Wiyu."
"Fuck, crazier than fellow nutjobs—witch race."
"...What even are witches... I don't really know."
"Don't know? Mom never taught? Well, witches impregnate men too, they say..."
Rubbing chin thoughtfully, Beatus grinned.
"Race without dicks to goat-fuck?"
"Whoa, knowledge up!"
Hope she's not my classmate.
...But tropes say she will be.
...Repeat a year?