Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Coincidence for the Transfer Student (2)
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***
The plane carrying Yeomyeong and the Saintess glided smoothly onto the runway.
If you hadn't been looking out the window, you wouldn't have even noticed it had landed—a perfect soft touchdown.
"A good start."
Margan gave a brief assessment before turning his gaze to the same spot as Yeomyeong and the Saintess.
Beyond the small window of the plane stretched the scenery of the airport.
Lord Howe Academy's airport was small compared to typical international ones, but it didn't fall short in beauty.
According to the famous architect who designed it, he wanted to create a place brimming with the vitality of youth...
True to his words, every view outside the window overflowed with that youthful energy.
Not in a design sense, but literally.
"Uh... Is it always this crowded normally?"
The Saintess, peering out the window, asked in a dazed tone.
There were roughly hundreds of people swarming around the airport and runway—maybe even over a thousand.
"...This isn't what I was thinking, right?"
Margan didn't answer. He couldn't hide his flustered expression.
"You said there wouldn't be a welcome ceremony!"
Unable to hold back, the Saintess shouted, and a bead of cold sweat trickled down Margan's forehead.
"Well... The school didn't specifically announce that you'd be arriving today..."
"Then what's with all those people? They're all staring at our plane!"
"T-Truthfully... I have no idea how the students and faculty found out and gathered like this..."
While Margan hemmed and hawed, Yeomyeong cut in.
"Probably because of the reporters from Manju."
"...Reporters?"
"Why else would they have gathered at the Manju airfield? They must've planned to write articles about our departure or tip off their fellow journalists."
What happened after that went without saying.
Given the plane's specs, estimating the arrival time from the destination and departure was child's play.
Of course, understanding the situation and accepting it were two entirely different things.
"Ugh...! If I'd known, I would've just gone to the entrance ceremony...!"
For some reason deeply embarrassed, the Saintess clutched her face and stomped her feet.
She kept it up until the plane finished taxiing into the airport.
And just as the oblivious pilot made an announcement over the intercom: "The stairs truck will be ready shortly."
The Saintess spoke in a limp voice.
"Yeomyeong, what are you thinking right now?"
"...Why do you care about my thoughts?"
"You're not nervous, not scared... I'm just curious what could be going through your head."
"Hmm... Honestly, I'm glad you're here."
"What?! Y-You... Wh-what's that all of a sudden..."
The moment the Saintess startled upright, Yeomyeong shrugged and added,
"All those people staring—you'll draw their attention instead of me. If this isn't lucky, what is?"
"...."
Whether his joke to ease her tension worked or not, the Saintess let out a hollow laugh.
Right after, she swung a fist at Yeomyeong with an expression half-laugh, half-fury.
***
...Anyway, while the two bickered, the plane came to a complete stop.
Only after the door opened did the Saintess stop her punches.
That was when the sounds of the airport finally reached them—sounds that hadn't been audible before.
The footsteps and shouts of the approaching crowd, the shutter clicks of cameras.
And amid it all, a buzz thick with anticipation.
"Ah, seriously...."
The Saintess glanced at her luggage. More precisely, at the transparent cloak inside.
Until the trip to Manju... she'd always worn that cloak everywhere.
Out of fear of prejudice as a half-Earthling, burdened by the expectations heaped on the title of Saintess.
But after all she'd been through in Manju, she'd decided to change. Or rather, she already had.
Just as she hadn't fled from the embedded reporters, she could endure the academy's attention without a fuss.
The Saintess steeled herself. Though sighs still poured from her lips, and Yeomyeong's calm face annoyed her...
"...Shall we go?"
The moment she stood, Yeomyeong did the same and grabbed his bag.
Margan, watching their cues, moved to lead the way, followed by the Saintess and Yeomyeong as they prepared to exit.
That's when someone entered through the plane's door.
A middle-aged man in a neat suit, his wrinkled face stern and prickly.
The instant they saw his angry expression, Margan shouted.
"Admissions Director Medga?"
No sooner had he spoken than Yeomyeong scanned the man.
Admissions Director? Why was the big shot who controlled academy admissions here?
"Admissions Director, what brings you...?"
Before Margan could finish his question, the Admissions Director strode through the cabin and bowed to Yeomyeong and the Saintess.
"My deepest apologies to the Saintess and the transfer student for the inconvenience. This is entirely our fault."
"Oh? No, no. It's fine. No need to apologize."
The Saintess shot Yeomyeong a look that said, See?, and he nodded.
But the "mistake" the Admissions Director mentioned was far from minor.
Oppose unfair transfer!
Fraud! Get out!
Crooked admission! Step down!
Sudden shouts erupted. The hostility wasn't aimed at the Saintess—it was all for Yeomyeong.
From complaints about the biased transfer exam to jeers like "Riding a dragon to take a plane?"
"No, what the hell are they...!"
The Saintess, finally grasping the situation, tried to rush out, but the Admissions Director extended a hand to stop her.
"Saintess, before you get angry, will you hear me out first?"
"Hear you out? What is there to say right now? Yeomyeong's getting abused where everyone can hear...!"
Before she could say more, Yeomyeong grabbed her shoulder.
"...Let's hear the Admissions Director out first."
If the one who ought to be angriest here said that, the Saintess had no choice but to swallow her rage.
She whipped her head away, and Yeomyeong calmly asked.
"Admissions Director, what exactly is going on? Why am I the one getting yelled at?"
"It's... about the transfer exam."
Transfer exam? What did that have to do with anything?
While Yeomyeong furrowed his brow, the Admissions Director began explaining.
***
Lord Howe Academy's admission rate was brutally competitive—murderous didn't even cover it.
Even with requirements like already being a Superhuman or at least able to sense mana.
Public fascination with Superhumans meant applicants only grew year after year, never shrank.
As a result, the admissions office was a hotbed of temptations.
Celebrities, politicians—even nobles from beyond the dimensional gates—openly solicited crooked admissions.
Offering stocks or cash was standard; promises of elixirs or power were everyday occurrences.
Of course, in the past 12 years, not a single such bribe had been accepted.
It was the founder's will that admissions must be fair, and the strict integrity of Medga, who'd held the post for those 12 years.
But was 12 years too long? Or were the temptations of bribes too strong?
In recent years, more and more people within the school had begun eyeing Medga's position.
Nikolai Chern, a member of the academy board, was a prime example.
For years, he'd blatantly tried to plant his own people in the role.
He'd failed only because current Admissions Director Medga showed no openings—but teachers generally agreed he could swallow the office anytime...
"...Um, Admissions Director?"
"Yes, Cheon Yeomyeong? Something you don't understand?"
"No, it's not that—it's just too long. Could you get to the point?"
"...."
The moment Yeomyeong finished, the Saintess burst out with a "Pfft."
Medga fell silent briefly, then nodded upon hearing the insults from outside.
"...You're the one taking the abuse, yet I lacked consideration. My apologies."
He cleared his throat with a "Ahem" and continued.
"To sum it up briefly: This is a plot to humiliate you over the transfer admission and use it as a pretext to drag me from my post."
"...Is the transfer admission really something to grab onto?"
"Originally, our academy had no such thing as transfers. You're the first... and likely the last."
"...."
Yeomyeong already knew transfers were unprecedented.
Even Margan, who'd come to recruit him, had shown up with just a single paper labeled "Transfer Exam Proctor."
But he'd never imagined it would spark something like this.
With all he'd accomplished, all the power he'd shown.
‘...Caught up in academy internal politics. Outside my calculations.'
Yeomyeong pressed his temple briefly. The voices outside continued condemning him.
"Cheon Yeomyeong, I'm sorry you have to endure this because of my greed to bring you in. I hope you aren't hurt by us foolish adults."
"No, it's..."
"I promise you won't be expelled, no matter what. Your transfer was done under the Admissions Director's legitimate authority, and the principal approved it."
Medga offered apology and comfort in his courteous tone. Hearing it, the Saintess looked up.
"Then, just explain why you admitted Yeomyeong, and it's over, right? They're not idiots—they know he slew a dragon..."
No sooner had she spoken than Medga sighed.
"Saintess. Some people, when faced with unbelievable feats... just assume they're lies."
"...."
"Others... turn from the truth out of jealousy."
Those yelling at Yeomyeong outside were surely such people.
The Saintess understood, so she just pursed her lips in silence.
As everyone in the plane fell quiet, Yeomyeong suddenly rummaged through his bag.
"Yeomyeong?"
"Yeah."
"What are you doing?"
"Can't stay like this forever."
With that, he pulled out a supply-issue iron sword from between his bags.
Blunted so it wouldn't have an edge, as sharp blades weren't allowed on academy grounds.
While Medga and Margan eyed the sword in confusion, only the Saintess realized what he intended and gaped.
"Hey! What do you plan to do even after coming all the way to the academy?!"
"The simplest solution?"
The simplest solution. Realizing why he'd drawn the sword, Medga interjected.
"...What are you thinking, Cheon Yeomyeong?"
"If they're doing this because of my transfer, I just prove my strength, and it's done."
"You're right. That's why we're planning a chance for you to demonstrate it—gathering faculty and press in a few days..."
"...Aren't the faculty and press already outside?"
Before Medga could dissuade him, Yeomyeong spun and headed for the rear door.
"W-Wait! Yeomyeong! Hold on!"
Margan tried to grab him, but this time the Saintess raised a hand to stop him.
"Let him go."
"B-But, Saintess. If Yeomyeong loses like this...!"
"Unless he hurts them, he won't lose, right?"
"...."
"Oh, and even if he does hurt them, I can heal—so blowing off an arm or leg is fine!"
With the Saintess shouting as if for all to hear, Yeomyeong exited through the rear door.
No stairs truck there, so he had to jump from a considerable height, landing with a thud.
Oppose crooked transfer!
Force the Admissions Director to resign!
Come out, you fraud! Come out and... Huh?
The moment he landed, every eye outside locked onto him.
Reporters and visiting outsiders, various faculty and students alike.
Before hundreds of staring eyes, Yeomyeong calmly raised his sword.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Cheon Yeomyeong, the new transfer student to the academy."
A small voice compared to the crowd's murmurs, but the gathered Superhumans focused their mana to hear him clearly.
"Anyone who doubts my skills, calls me a fraud... I'll give them a chance to prove their claims."
Mana gathered along the blade with his measured tone—a gesture surer than a thousand words.
"Anyone who wants to fight me..."
Silence fell across the airport as Yeomyeong's declaration rang in their ears.
"Step forward."
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